#learning from their mistakes and trying to do their best

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hello! I enjoy your writing. Could you write something about Donna and reader already being in a relationship and someone trying to break in at night or something and hurt reader, therefore hurt Donna? Donna tortures and kills the intruder in front of reader, kind of scaring her but reassures her she would never hurt her. Angst/fluff perhaps?

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your words!!!! Thanks for your request too, I hope it isn't too dark... Anyway, I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))

Safe and sound

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Dark themes, slightly dark Donna, Minors DNI, mentions of violence, angst but with a happy ending, Donna being Donna, fluff

Word count: 8,639

Summary: You were really scared...

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

A walk through the woods was always reassuring. Feeling the fresh air, the snow, the sunlight, brought a smile to your face. Your steps were slow and your hand was intertwined with hers. Everything was perfect.

You were never a lucky girl. Your past was complicated, it had shadows that few people knew about but, luckily, they didn't devour you. Fearful and shy, those were the words that defined you. Apart from that, you were a normal, ordinary villager. A normal life, a normal family, the blessing of the Black Gods... There was nothing that could explain why that woman was walking hand in hand with you, why you were walking next to Donna Beneviento.

Perhaps it was the glint of normality in your eyes, the passive and conformist attitude of any ordinary villager that caught the attention of the youngest Lord. Your smile was nothing special, but for her it was something precious, something she should treasure, something she wanted to be hers.

You, of course, were also curious, attracted to that woman in black, to that covered face, to the serene darkness that always accompanied her. Little by little you achieved the goal of getting to know her, of discovering that most of the legends that spoke of Lady Beneviento were wrong, most of them.

Yes, she was a disturbed, sick woman, but she was also charming, she never gave you any reason to relate her name or her appearance with the word monster. Kissing her, confessing your feelings to her marked the beginning of the best stage of your life. You left the village behind, the shadows of your past, to enjoy the present.

The love you felt was intense, inexhaustible despite the jealous and extremely possessive nature of the lady in black. In any case, you would never abandon her. You would strive to make her sick mind understand that you were hers, only hers.

Despite those flaws, surely due to years of horrible loneliness, Donna was everything to you, just as you were to her. She was beautiful, no matter how hard she tried to deny it. Her scar was of no importance. Visible or not, you all had some kind of scar, a memory from the past that would be hard to forget.

None of that mattered to you, you simply loved her, you couldn't live without her. There was nothing more important to you than love, which can do everything, which cures everything. Little by little those jealousies became less and less frequent, although to think that they would disappear completely would be foolish.

“I love these walks,” you murmured, getting closer to the lady, leaning on her as you walked.

She leaned down to kiss you through her black veil.

“Technically it is not a walk, tesoro,” the lady whispered, laughing shyly, with that hoarse voice. Too many years of loneliness. “You are just accompanying me.”

“Yes, well…” you sighed, shaking your head. “But we’re walking at the same time, the two of us together…”

“The three of us!” Angie shrieked, Donna's irreverent doll, who walked nervously next to you. “Learn to count!”

“Yes, the three of us,” you said, rolling your eyes but not losing your smile. “Donna”

“Mm?” the lady in black murmured, looking at you through the cloth, slowing down her steps.

“Do you know what the meeting is about?” you asked curiously, sighing as the village came closer and closer, putting an end to that quiet and romantic pace.

“No,” she answered dryly, looking ahead again. “Why do you ask? I thought you weren't interested in meetings.”

“Oh, and I'm not interested in them, at all,” you joked, with a mischievous smile. “I just want to hear your voice…”

Donna laughed softly, moving out of the way, grabbing your waist and lifting her black veil so she could give you a quick kiss on the lips.

“Tesoro…” she sighed, caressing your cheek as you tried to steal a few more kisses from her. “(Y/N), the, the meeting…”

“Sorry, I can't help it,” you apologized with blushing cheeks, walking back to the village. Her response was a romantic laugh, playing with your hand as she resumed her walk.

“I don’t understand why you insist on coming with me,” she said after a few moments of comfortable silence. “You could have stayed home.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t really like being alone in that big, dark house…” you said in a joking tone. Your heart started to beat faster.

“You don’t like being at home then,” Donna said, in the same tone as always, one unable to reveal for itself the feelings of the lady in black. Interpreting what she said, what she felt was the most complicated task in your relationship. You didn’t even know if one day you would be able to do it.

“Donna…” you said rolling your eyes and moving her hand in a reprimand. ��You know I don’t mean that. I just don’t like being alone.”

“You're never alone,” she said, firmly establishing a comfortable truth for her, the assurance that your love wasn’t a lie. “Even if I'm not here, I'm always thinking about you, always.”

“That's romantic… And disturbing,” you whispered with a mischievous smile.

The lady in black put a hand around your waist, pushing you to walk faster.

“Me thinking about you is disturbing?” she asked distrustfully, forcing you to roll your eyes again and lean over her shoulder. “Sei la mia ragazza…”

“You know what? Let's enjoy the walk instead of talking in languages ​​I don't understand, okay, darling?” you asked, shaking your head as you bit your lip.

Of course, Donna was a strange woman, but you loved her more and more.

“Oh Mihaela,” you said once in the village, letting Donna go and walking towards your best friend.

Well, at least you wouldn't be alone wandering through the snowy landscape. You didn't know why, but the subtle growl of the lady in black made you think that she didn't like it.

“(Y/N),” the young woman said, cautiously approaching you, lowering her head before the lady in black.

“Who is this?” Donna asked with a dangerous hiss.

“Oh, right, this is Mihaela, she's my best friend,” you said with a smile, extending your hand towards the girl, who smiled politely. “Mihaela, she's…”

“I'm sure she already knows me, (Y/N),” the lady interrupted, clasping her hands in front of her body. You didn't know if it was a polite posture or on the contrary, an intimidating one.

“Y-Yes,” your friend stammered, with her head bowed. “It's, it's a pleasure, Lady Beneviento.”

“Mm,” the woman in black murmured, pulling your arm slightly to move you away from the girl.

“What's wrong?” you asked, giving Mihaela an apologetic look. “Hey, let me go, you're hurting me.”

“I'm sorry,” Donna apologized. “I thought you came to accompany me, not to hang out with that... Girl.”

“The truth is that I found her by chance. We've been friends for many years, Donna, there's no place for your jealousy here,” you said, crossing your arms. “Come on, repeat after me: there's no place for jealousy, I like you spending time with your friends while I’m in that boring meeting,” you said jokingly.

The lady sighed deeply, shaking her head.

“Va bene…” Donna murmured, bending down to pick Angie up from the ground. “But I hope to find you here when I get back.”

“Aye, mom…” you mocked, causing the lady to turn around abruptly, growling in annoyance at your comment. “Honey…” you said in a lower tone, moving closer to kiss her over the black fabric.

“Should I stay and watch the fool?” Angie asked, while the lady ran the back of her hand over your cheek, as if she was thinking about something.

“No, it's not necessary,” she finally said, pinching your skin affectionately.

“Donna,” you said when the woman turned around, walking away from you. She turned slowly, looking at you from afar. “I love you.”

Her response was a slight nod, surely followed by an imperceptible whisper that said: me too.

Laughing in a loving way, you walked back to your friend, who kept her head down.

“Hey, can you raise your head, your neck is going to hurt,” you joked, pointing ahead so she could start walking next to you.

“I'm not used to it,” Mihaela said with an embarrassed smile. “I still can't believe you're living with a Lord.”

“Bah, it's not that big of a deal,” you said, making a gesture with your hand to make it less important.

“Don't be offended, but your girlfriend is really scary,” Mihaela commented, sitting on a nearby bench.

“I'm not offended, I'm quite used to hearing it,” you said amused. “Besides, Donna is a sweetheart, it's just that people don't know her.”

“That must be it...” your friend sighed, looking at her hands, which played with each other, nervously.

Mihaela was always your best friend, you both lived close by, you played together when you were little and you shared many joys, and also suffering, one that you barely remembered.

“Hey, are you okay?” you asked when you saw your friend's attitude, a bit stranger, as if she was extremely tired. “You don't look well.”

“Oh, yes, yes...” she said, avoiding your gaze. You knew her, she was lying. You raised your eyebrows to let her know that you didn't believe her words and finally, she sighed. “Well, the truth is that I don't sleep well lately.”

“Have you been having nightmares again?” you asked in a lower tone, rubbing her back in an understanding way.

Mihaela shook her head and looked around, as if she was scared.

“It's, it's nonsense,” the girl said, shy, with the same serious expression, one that was not very common in her. “It must be my imagination.”

“Ahem, you should take advantage of the fact that I'm here to tell me everything that worries you, like we always did, remember?” you said, starting to worry yourself, you didn't have a good feeling.

Your friend had a simple life, there was only one thing that could worry her that much.

“A few days ago I was taking a walk with Igor, you know, near our house and... And... The cabin on the hill, you know... The house of...” she explained, lowering the tone of her voice.

All the nerves in your body were on alert.

“Yes, I know what house you mean,” you interrupted, not wanting to bring back the ghosts of your past, some horrible ones. “What's wrong with that house?”

“Um, I... I don't want to scare you, (Y/N) but, but... I, I thought I saw someone inside,” Mihaela whispered, biting her lip.

“But, but that's impossible, it's-it's been years since anyone lived there,” you said with a trembling voice, just like your hands.

“I know, I know but...” your friend said, looking at the sky. “(Y/N), what if he's back?”

You shook your head effusively, unintentionally letting all the traumas of your past come back to the present. A knot in your stomach, cold sweats... Symptoms that you already knew began to punish you.

“N-No, I don't think so, he, he died,” you said nervously.

“You know as well as I do that it’s not true,” Mihaela said with a fearful whisper. “I'm scared, I think, I think he'll come for me.”

“No, no, no,” you denied, taking your friend's hand. “He, he hasn't come back and, besides, he, he didn't have anything against you, his target always was me.”

“Tell it to my sister,” the young woman murmured, with an air of sadness for that tragic memory. “I envy you, you know?”

“Me?” you asked, pointing at yourself.

Mihaela nodded with a fearful sigh.

“Yes, he probably won't dare to do anything to you because you live with Donna. You're very lucky to have someone like her who can protect you,” she explained, shaking her head.

“Yeah, well, sometimes I wish she wouldn't protect me that much…” you murmured, looking around in fear. The ominous silence of the village accentuated that old fear even more. “Hey, don't worry… I-I'm sure it's just nonsense.”

“I have a bad feeling, (Y/N)… I know it's stupid considering your situation but… Be careful,” your friend said, with a worried look.

“Eh, nothing's going to happen… He hasn't come back, I'm sure what you saw was a shadow, or an animal or… Whatever,” you said, trying to reassure yourself. “Besides, you know, you know he's coming for me, you have nothing to worry about.”

“I hope, I hope you're right and it was just my imagination,” Mihaela commented, causing silence to reign.

No, he died… Did he really?

You thought that this talk with your friend could be beneficial, but it was the opposite. Fear, an almost forgotten fear returned to your mind, to your body. As you walked back home with the lady in black, you looked at the forest as a threat and not as a romantic refuge.

“Stop squeezing me so much,” Donna protested, loosening the strong grip of your hand on her arm. You obeyed, as if you had just come out of a dream, or a nightmare. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing, I'm sorry,” you said, looking everywhere except at the lady, who growled annoyed by your strange attitude. “I'm just, I'm just glad you're with me.”

“So that's why you intend to tear my arm off?” she asked, holding you tighter, pulling you so you could keep walking. “You're very sweet, tesoro…”

“Yeah, well,” you said, laughing fakely, getting a little closer. “What was that?” you asked, digging your feet into the snow and looking at a nearby bush, one that moved suspiciously.

“Mm?” Donna muttered, looking at the same spot. “What are you talking about?”

“I, I heard something in that bush,” you stammered, cowardly taking refuge behind Donna. “Can you, can you take a look?”

“The bush? What nonsense!” Angie protested, laughing at your irrational fear.

“Go,” the lady ordered the doll, who obeyed with a grunt as the lady held your shaking hand.

Angie moved the bush, even crawled inside, coming out again and shrugging.

“Nothing,” Angie said. “What’s wrong, silly?”

“I just, I just thought… Ne, nevermind,” you muttered, running a hand over your forehead.

Donna turned around with a confused sigh, placing a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Amore mio, you're shaking, what's wrong?” she asked softly, taking your hands and squeezing them tightly.

“It's nothing, it's just that... I just didn't realize how sinister this forest is,” you said, faking a smile in a pathetic way.

“We'd better go back home then,” Donna said, with a tender laugh, caressing your cheek and leading you by the hand. You looked at that bush, at all the places where a person thirsty for revenge could hide.

That was just the beginning.

Your friend's words haunted you during the day and harassed you during the night. He couldn't have gone back, it was impossible, but you weren't able to accept it. In every dark corner, in every gap you saw the danger again.

An unpleasant return to the past, ghosts haunting you, whispering to you that you were in danger again, that the horrible man had returned.

Your character changed. You always enjoyed the outdoors, the forest, the surroundings of the mansion, but you didn't anymore. You preferred Donna's arms to the insecurity of the outside world.

She never knew, you never talked to her about it. She simply, as expected, welcomed this change in your personality as something good for her. You couldn't blame her, really, you couldn't. She didn't know and you never wanted her to.

A perfect afternoon for a walk turned into a boring afternoon of reading. Well, at least it would be boring if you weren't hugging Donna, if her soft caresses didn't pass through your hair, without her perfume soothing your fears.

Her kisses, the only moment when the lady interrupted her reading, were like a reminder to your frightened mind: she was with you and nothing would ever happen by her side.

“We finally meet again...” That terrible voice reached your ears and you panicked.

“No! It can't be! Help!” you screamed, running without moving forward, at the mercy of that monster. “No, no, no!”

“(Y/N), (Y/N)...” a soft voice interrupted you as you moved your arms, while hitting the body of the one you thought was your enemy. It wasn't.

When you opened your eyes the nightmare was over. Sweat ran down your body and your wrists were held by the lady in black, who looked at you with a frown.

“Donna...” you sighed, throwing yourself into her arms irrationally. “Donna...”

“Tesoro, calm down, it was just a nightmare,” the woman in black said, holding you tightly against her. “Shh, that's it, I'm here with you…”

“A…? A nightmare?” you repeated scared, filling the black dress with tears of terror.

“Yes, you've fallen asleep,” she said, kissing your head and grabbing you by the shoulders. “Look at me, look at me, tesoro…”

“Shit, I… I don't…” you stammered, shaking your head.

“You've been behaving strangely for a while. I'm worried about you,” she said in a serious voice, wiping the tears from your face.

“It-It's nothing, I…” you murmured, stopping shaking due to her caresses, her gestures of affection.

“You're soaked…” Donna whispered, checking the sweat that wet your clothes. “Come, I'm going to prepare a bath for you.”

“I, I… Thank you, Donna,” you said, nodding gratefully.

The hot water relaxed you, but the fear was still very present. The nightmares haunted you even when Donna held you, even when her body gave you the security you needed. Nothing worked and nothing would, maybe it was time to tell her the truth, maybe then you could forget about it.

“Bellisima…” Donna said as she lovingly combed your hair, something she loved to do, of course, covering you in kisses in the process. “You're calmer, aren't you?”

You nodded, looking at your face in the mirror. The black shadows that had settled under your eyes were the last sign to embolden you to confess what it was that scared you.

“Donna, I have, I have to talk to you,” you said with a broken voice, turning to look at her and getting up from the stool, sitting on the bed and pointing at the mattress for her to do the same.

“Mm,” she murmured with a confused look, leaving the comb on the dresser and obeying your signals. “I’m listening.”

Her voice wasn’t an understanding one, it was rather fearful. You didn't know if that was good or bad.

“There is one thing I haven't told you…” you said, playing with your hands, separated by one of hers, which she squeezed tightly.

“You're scaring me,” she said, staring at you, her breathing altered. “Have I done something wrong? Do you want to leave me?”

“What? No, of course I don’t,” you said frowning and taking your hand away from hers, annoyed by her fears. “It has nothing to do with you. It's, it's something about, about my past.”

“You fucked that slut, didn't you?” the lady asked in a haughty tone, with darkness conquering her gaze.

“No, Donna! What's wrong with you?” you said angrily.

“There's nothing you haven't told me, (Y/N), so I guess it's something I’m not going to like,” she excused herself awkwardly.

You rolled your eyes and pulled the sheets with your hand, making an effort to tell her the truth.

“Actually, there is something,” you said, looking away. “But, but let me explain it to you before you start with your paranoia, can you do that?”

She nodded indignantly, crossing her arms.

“Va bene, talk,” she indicated to you, with an unpleasant gesture of her head.

You ignored that possessiveness, that arrogance, and took a breath, expelling it slowly to relax.

“I was about 8 years old, I was, I was very little,” you began, remembering while clenching your teeth. “I always went out to play with Mihaela, with my friends, you know, kid stuff, running through the woods, playing tag…”

Donna nodded for you to continue.

“There was, there was a man… A villager who, who was always there. No matter what I was doing, he was always… Watching me. At first I thought he just lived there but… It wasn't true,” you continued, earning the full attention of the lady, who didn't take the darkness away from her gaze.

It was the first time in years that you were that nervous. You thought you would never have to tell it again, that you would never have to live it again.

“That man followed me everywhere… He watched me from afar. I didn't give it any importance until that distance began to decrease,” you said, shaking your head. “The, the years went by and… When, when I was 14, that man kept spying on me, watching me… He was getting closer and closer, I felt his eyes looking through my window at night.”

You had to take a breath again.

“I, I can't forget that sinister smile, those eyes that seemed to… Undress me…” you sighed, with tears in your eyes. “I thought he would never go that far but, one night he, he caught me while I was coming home and… He tried… He tried to…”

“(Y/N), calm down, speak clearly, please,” your girlfriend said, getting a little closer, listening to you attentively.

“He wanted to hurt me… He said that I was his since I was a child and that he could finally… take me,” you murmured, embarrassed.

“Did he get it?” Anger burned in the words of the lady in black, her breathing became agitated again.

“No, luckily my father went out to look for me and scared him off before he could get any further,” you explained, relieved to remember how your father pointed his shotgun at that monster. “But that wasn't enough for him, because that same night… He k-killed my best friend's sister. It didn't matter that there was no evidence, I knew it was him, we all knew.”

“What happened then?” the lady asked again, with a calmer tone, lifting your chin.

“My father and Mihaela's went after him. They chased him through the forest and… They say, they say he fell off a cliff and died.”

“Mm,” Donna murmured, frowning. “If he died, why are you worried?”

“Because I never thought he would really died but… Time passed and I never saw him again, so I stopped worrying until, until the other day, when Mihaela told me that she had seen someone in his old cabin,” you finally said, holding back a sob. “I'm, I'm scared, Donna, what if he's back?”

“Why didn't you tell me before?” she asked, ignoring your fears, with a somber but a not-too-dark look.

“I've already told you, because I never thought he would come back or… Or that he could. Donna, I'm, I'm so scared…” you sobbed, leaning towards her so she could hug you, so she could tenderly press your head against her chest.

She sighed but gave you that protective hug, those soothing kisses on your hair.

“You must forget about that, amore mio,” she whispered after a few minutes of crying, gently pushing you away and wiping your tears. “You have nothing to fear.”

“He swore he would come back for me… He swore it…” you stammered.

“(Y/N), stop it, stop crying,” the lady scolded you, in a harsh tone. “It's absurd.”

“Absurd? Didn't you hear me? He'll come for me,” you protested, shaking your head in disbelief.

“No one is going to come for you,” Donna said, cupping your face with her hands. “You're mine, tesoro, no one will lay a hand on you, do you hear me? I protect you, I will never let anything happen to you, besides, surely that friend of yours is stupid and she just imagined it.”

“Do you mind stopping insulting my friends?” you asked with irony, moving away from her and crossing your arms. “Mihaela would never say something like that to me if she wasn't sure. Donna, he killed her sister.”

“That man is dead, (Y/N),” she sighed, struggling with you so she could caress you again. “You have to forget about that. You can't live scared like that.”

“I can't believe you don't understand…” you said with an offended look, open-mouthed. “You don't know what it's like to feel these things, to feel someone stalking you.”

“I can't believe you trust me so little that you can’t stop being scared by silly things,” the woman in black responded, with a haughty gesture. “You're with me and nothing and no one will ever hurt you, do you hear me? So, forget about it and try to relax.”

“It's very easy to say,” you murmured, calmed by her caresses.

“You don't trust me” she said with a soft, tender tone, tilting her head slightly. “You don't think I can protect you?”

“Yes, yes, but…” you said with a sincere smile, caressing her cheek too, relaxing her incipient madness. “You know what? Y-you're right Donna, I have nothing to worry about.”

“Mm, come here,” she said, smiling in the same way and kissing you slowly, moistening her lips with yours, relaxing your spirit a bit.

Donna was right, with her by your side nothing would happen to you.

Of course that should have been reason enough for you to stop thinking about it, but it wasn't. Yes, your fear calmed down, but it was still present. You were still reluctant to leave the house if it wasn't with Donna by your side, every corner was a danger, every moment of solitude was a risk. The nightmares had diminished, but the worry was still impregnated in your mind, that was something you couldn't avoid.

The days passed quickly, the nights were slow, as if time itself was mocking and scaring you.

“Did you like dinner, tesoro?” Donna asked, completely calm, smiling like every time you tasted one of her dishes. “(Y/N),” she said in a more impatient voice, seeing that you were distracted, looking at the darkness through the window.

“Oh, sorry, yes, Donna, it was delicious,” you said, pretending you weren't watching your surroundings.

She smiled pleased, looking at you with a tenderness that always won you over, with that bright, loving eye you were addicted to.

“You're beautiful when you smile…” the lady murmured, with a seductive look, making your cheeks blush little by little.

“That's because I'm with you,” you said amused, looking at her in the same way, feeling how the warmth of your chest hid your fear.

“Mm, maybe you want to tell me those things while we watch a movie,” she whispered sensually, biting her lip. “Or while doing other things…”

“Tempting,” you joked, nodding slowly. “I like the plan.”

“I like you,” she said with her voice filled with desire, with the love she felt and never get tired of showing you. “I'm going to pick this up and... Well, we'll see what we do, okay, tesoro?”

“No, no, Donna,” you said kindly, getting up from the table and grabbing her wrist. “You've been cooking for a long time. Let me pick it up...”

“As you wish,” she said, taking advantage of the proximity to kiss you quickly on the lips, a kiss that said many things, that said how much Donna wanted to continue devouring your lips. “I'll wait for you in the basement.”

“Yes, go to prepare the bed, I mean, the movie,” you joked, shaking your head and pretending to be absent-minded.

Donna laughed amused, looking at you seductively before walking away from you.

You sighed in love, slowly picking up the plates and glasses. The creaking of the wood alerted you unexpectedly. You felt like someone was watching you. The plates moved in your hand, trembling dangerously and you looked at the source of the sound, a shadow hiding under the table.

“Boo!”

“Ahhh!” you screamed in fright, dropping the dishes with a horrible sound, breaking the plates and glasses into pieces.

The Angie doll came out from under the furniture, laughing out loud.

“Fool, what a scare!” she shrieked amused. “I scared you, I scared you,” she mocked while you, in shock, shook your head.

“A-Angie, damn it,” you said trembling, on the verge of a heart attack.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” Donna asked, running to your side while you bent down to pick up the plates, suffering the doll's mockery. “Che cos’è sucesso?”

“Nothing… Nothing… Angie scared me,” you said in a low voice, embarrassed by that exaggeration. Your heart was beating fast, the fear never went away.

“Angie!” Donna shouted furiously, making the doll run away from the place. “Let me help you.”

“Th-Thanks…” you murmured, looking down.

“You shouldn't be that scared, Angie always does the same,” the lady said, helping you with the plates. “(Y/N)”

“Mm?” you murmured, trying to pretend that you had regained your composure.

The lady in black slowly stood up with a cold look, crossing her arms.

“You're still scared of that man,” she said in a dark tone, looking at you almost with contempt.

“What? N-no, that doll scared me, that's all,” you lied clumsily, unintentionally agreeing with her.

“You know you can't, and shouldn't lie to me, (Y/N),” she hissed, without taking her accusing eye off yours.

“Fine... Yes, I'm still a bit scared,” you finally confessed, looking back at the window, where the trees mocked you by forming sinister shapes.

“I thought I told you to forget about that nonsense,” the lady scolded you, placing her finger on your chest. “Can't you hear what I'm saying?”

“You don't understand that I'm scared? Fuck, Donna, how can you be like that?” you protested, letting out the stress you had accumulated.

“If you're unable to be calm around me, it's because you don't trust me,” she said arrogantly.

“You always twist everything!” you screamed, clenching your fists on either side of your hips. “I haven’t any problem with you! I love you, Donna, I love you...” you sighed, trying to relax. “I'm just scared, fuck, I'm scared, isn't that logical? Are you so insane that you can't even understand me?”

The lady sighed, raising her gaze and turning around to leave.

“W-Wait, Donna, I didn't mean that,” you said hastily, grabbing her wrist, a grip she pulled away abruptly, too abruptly.

“If you don't feel safe with me... Just leave!” she shouted furiously, making you flinch.

“Donna, wait, wait,” you said nervously, trying to stop her. “It's not that, it's just that…”

“You're stupid!” Donna shrieked, approaching and making you back away. “You’re acting like a scared little girl when you should know that nothing will happen to you because you're with me, why is it so hard for you to understand?”

“You're the one who doesn't understand… Donna, calm down…”

“Stupida…” the lady hissed, with a look that hurt you, turning around and disappearing down the elevator hallway. “Porca puttana!”

“Damn it… Arghhhh!” you growled, kicking the wooden floor, unable to make Donna understand your fears, which were insignificant to her.

Getting some air was the best thing.

Trying to calm your breathing, you walked towards the exit, feeling the cool breeze relax your nerves. It was difficult to understand her anger, her rage, it always was. You knew she really wanted to help you in her own way, release you from those fears that were probably absurd.

Poor Donna had been alone for so long, she didn't know how to deal with such things. Your mind excused her for her attitude, as did your heart. You couldn't blame her for feeling desperate, for feeling that your trust in her didn't go far enough.

The fear was much greater. It surpassed the limits of your logic. Yes, that man would never approach the house of a Lord. It was a rational thought, one that Donna tried to make you understand in every possible way.

But you didn’t give in. You were not able to calm down. Maybe the fact of seeing herself unable to help you as she would like frustrated her. It wasn’t the first time that it happened, that Donna's problems came from her inability to cure yours.

Her anger wasn’t towards you and you knew it, it was towards herself, for not being able to help you when you needed it.

While you turned over everything that had happened, you contemplated the waterfall illuminated by the full moon, calming yourself. The landscape was calm, peaceful. Yes, she was right. You had to start to stop thinking about your past. You had to trust her.

To start with, you had to apologize, since surely, she wanted to do the same.

“Okay…” you whispered, moving away from the railing, freezing when you heard the creak of the door, the door you couldn't see due to your position. “Donna?”

There was no answer. A shiver ran down your spine as you approached the door. There was no one there.

“It, it must have been the wind,” you said, looking at the door, now half open.

Slowly, you closed it, sighing, walking slowly through the entrance, looking for the best way to fix things with the lady in black.

“Finally,” that dark voice scared you.

You felt someone grab you from behind, holding your neck with one arm. An evil laugh ran through your ears and your irrational fears disappeared. Someone had entered the house, someone you knew.

“Help!” you screamed, immediately silenced by a disgusting hand on your mouth. The grip was too strong to break free from.

He was back, that man was back, it wasn't paranoia, he had entered the mansion and he had caught you.

“Well, well...” he whispered. “How much time has passed?”

“Mmmm,” you protested, fighting against his grip, panic increasing your adrenaline.

“Don't bother talking... I never liked talkers, (Y/N)...” the man whispered sinisterly, warming your ear with his breath.

Using a bit of strength, you managed to remove his hand from your mouth, taking a breath.

“Donna! Donna!” you screamed, running away from the attacker, something he stopped by grabbing your ankle and dragging you towards him.

“Shhh don't scream, no one is going to come to help you, darling…” he said in a disgusting voice while you kept moving, desperate. “I think you stopped being that innocent little girl a long time ago.”

“Let me go!” you screamed desperately, kicking the intruder, looking for help with your eyes. “Donna!”

A strong blow to the head made you shut up. Your forehead was wet against the wooden floor, you were bleeding, dizzy, scared…

“Shut the fuck up,” he said, pulling your hair, satisfied by your inability to move. “Look at you… The little whore of Beneviento… You didn't know you had such high aspirations…” he mocked, laughing sinisterly. “I'm sorry, (Y/N), but I'm afraid that nutcase won't be able to protect you… Not when I've been… Looking for you for so long!”

“Donna…” you whispered in a small voice, trying to stop that animal from climbing on top of your body while licking his lips. “Please…”

“Calm down, you'll be back between that bitch's legs soon… But first… I think we have something pending…”

“No!” you screamed when those disgusting hands wandered over your clothes, moving them with a strength you didn't know you had, managing to punch him hard in the face and make him retreat.

“Damn bitch…” he hissed angrily as you crawled on the floor, looking for help. “I've got you!” he said triumphantly when he grabbed you by the hair, pulling it to bend you up. “This time you won't escape.”

You could only cry desperately, until you heard the hurried sound of heels.

“She was screaming, I swear Donna!” Angie's shrill voice was the next thing you heard, along with the sight of the doll pointing at you nervously. “Donna, Donna!”

“Don't move,” the man whispered in your ear, tightening his grip on your hair as you cried, while your blurry eyes watched the lady approach.

“D-Donna…” you said with a distorted voice.

The lady's eye widened, her chest rising and falling rapidly, but there was no shock or panic in her gaze, only serenity.

“Don't take another step,” the attacker threatened, taking out a knife and putting it to your throat. “Or I'll slit her throat from end to end.  (Y/N), you disappoint me…” he hissed in your ear, with a sinister smile, surely due to Donna's immobility. “Do you really prefer that disgusting nutcase over me?”

“Shut up!” Angie shrieked. “Donna, do something, quickly…”

“Donna…” you sobbed, looking at the lady, who remained serious, unmoved by the aggressor's painful words.

The lady took a slow step, then another. The grip on your hair tightened even more.

“I said don't come closer,” the man threatened, stabbing the knife into your skin harder. “Back off, you monster!”

Donna stopped, sighing and glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

“Help me, please…” you begged, stretching your arm out as far as you could trying to reach the doll maker.

“No one touches what's mine,” Donna whispered, darkening her gaze and raising her arm towards the man.

Suddenly the grip on your hair was released, causing you to fall to the floor with a thud and allowing you to crawl towards the lady, who helped you up, hugging you tightly against her.

“Donna…” you cried desperately against her dress, pulling at her clothes desperately, terribly scared. Your body trembled hopelessly.

You moved your head to look at your attacker, who had a lost look, looking up as if he were hypnotized.

“Angie,” the lady said in a dark tone, pushing you towards the doll, who approached you.

“(Y/N), silly, are you okay?” the puppet asked, helping you sit on the floor as you cried inconsolably.

Among tears, you looked at the lady and the attacker. The woman in black went a little closer, with that cold, expressionless look, moving her hand.

The man growled, grabbing his head as if it were about to explode. Slowly, trembling, he began to move involuntarily, picking up the knife he had dropped.

“No… No…” he whispered, moving his arm, pointing the blade towards his chest and slowly sinking it into his flesh. “Ahhhhh!”

You watched the scene in horror. Blood was pouring from his self-inflicted wound as he pulled out the knife, stabbing it somewhere else nearby, into his chest again.

“Ahhhh!” The man's screams of pain echoed in your ears. You looked at Donna, who seemed to smile at his suffering. A dangerous smile like you had never seen before. “No, no, have mercy!”

“Did you have mercy when you killed that girl?” Donna whispered, tilting her head mockingly. “Mm, I guess you didn’t.”

“Ahhhhh!” the man screamed again, stabbing the knife all over his body under the steady gaze of your girlfriend, who reveled in his suffering, bending down and grabbing his hair tightly.

“Mm, you don't deserve me wasting my time with you,” she murmured disinterestedly, letting him go in disgust and moving her hand again.

“No...No...” the man pleaded, with his knife resting on his throat.

You looked away when he began to cut it among screams of pain. Then, there was only silence.

You looked over your knees to contemplate that horrible scene, to see how Donna touched the lifeless body of that vermin with her foot. Her face was expressionless, cold.

She had killed him, but not only that, she had been cruel. She had enjoyed doing it. The fear you had for the attack was transformed, heading towards the lady in black.

“Angie,” Donna said, walking towards you. “Call Karl, he has to take care of taking out the trash,” she ordered, to which the doll nodded, quickly going to fulfill her request.

The lady sighed, looking for the last time at that lifeless body bleeding out on a carpet.

“Tesoro...” she said, changing apathy to concern, crouching next to you. “Amore mio... Has he hurt you?”

“N-No,” you murmured, uncomfortable by her caresses, by her hand in yours, the hand that guided the thoughts of that man, that guided him to his death.

“Oh, you are hurt,” she sighed with a sad look, touching the wound on your head, which you had forgotten. “Come, let's go to the basement.”

Helped by Donna, you went down the elevator. The shock was slowly wearing off, but in your head you only had one thing: her smile, Donna's smile as she made that man suffer.

You knew she was dangerous, that she was sick, but you had never had the misfortune of confirming those rumors.

In your head there was no relief or gratitude, only fear, a new fear, the fear of the lady in black.

You knew she loved you, you were sure of it. You were hers. She always made a point of reminding you of it but... What would happen if she got tired of you? What would happen to you if she stopped loving you? Would she make you suffer like that too?

All those questions clouded your thoughts as she sat you down on a chair, searching for the first aid kit in one of the closets.

“Look at me, tesoro…” she told you in a soft voice, as if she hadn't just killed a man.

You involuntarily moved away from her touch, one that you irrationally saw as threatening. The lady growled, grabbing your chin tighter so you would look at her.

“It's all over, (Y/N), that bastardo won't bother you again, relax,” she said to you, changing the strong grip for a caress on your cheek and a tender smile.

You nodded, hissing in pain when a cotton ball brushed your wound.

“You deserve an apology, (Y/N),” the lady commented, sitting in front of you to better heal your wound. “I never thought that man would be so stupid as to break into the house.”

You nodded again, it was the only thing you could do without trembling.

“Mm, okay… It's nothing serious…” she sighed, soaking more cotton in the alcohol. “Amore mio… This wound hurts me more than it hurts you… I should never have let this happen.”

“It's not your fault,” you whispered in a weak voice, looking away.

“Shh, look at me,” she corrected, moving your face again. “I hope you'll be able to forgive me for my carelessness.”

“I have nothing to forgive you for,” you murmured, wiping away a tear that was running down your cheek.

The lady sighed, putting down the bottle and the cotton and grabbing your hand, leaning in to kiss you, something you rejected.

“It's okay, I understand, you're angry with me,” she whispered in a strangely understanding way. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

You shook your head, moving away from her.

“Okay…” she murmured, getting up from the chair with a sad look. “(Y/N) if I lost you… It would be, it would be hell for me, do you understand?”

You nodded reluctantly.

“You don't want to talk to me,” she sighed, shaking her head and running a hand through her hair. “Okay, do you want to be alone, tesoro?”

“You enjoyed it,” you murmured in a low voice, gaining enough courage to tell her what was really going through your head.

“Cosa?” she asked, looking at you confused. “What are you talking about?”

“You killed that man, and you enjoyed it, I saw the way you smiled,” you hissed in a dark voice.

“What did you want me to do, (Y/N)? He was going to hurt you,” Donna said, looking at you with a frown.

You shook your head, looking at the floor.

“You could have scared him, you could have made him run away forever,” you said thoughtfully, with your hands starting to shake. “But, but you have tortured him… You have made him suffer.”

“Anyone who dares to touch what is mine suffers the consequences,” she said, with that cold look again, still proud of her actions.

At that moment you exploded.

“So what will happen to me if I stop being yours? Are you going to torture me too?” you asked angrily, getting up from the chair. “You scare me, Donna, I have never been so afraid of you.”

“(Y/N), how can you think that way? Tesoro, you're really upset, let me…” she said, coming closer, something you stopped by cowardly running away from her touch.

“Don't touch me! Get away from me!” you screamed nervously, pathetically protecting yourself with your hands.

“I would never hurt you, I'd rather die,” the lady said, with a sad, pleading tone, one that you ignored.

“I don't know if I can believe you, not with what I've seen,” you said, relaxing the tone of your voice.

“(Y/N)… What's wrong with you? Was I supposed to let that man abuse you? Let him get away with it and let him get on with his life?” Donna said, coming closer in a threatening way. “I was just protecting you!” she yelled nervously, grabbing the collar of your dress, making you close your eyes tightly, expecting the worst.

“Donna…” you gasped in fear.

She blinked, watching as her hand grabbed your clothes, seeing your scared eyes and getting scared, of herself.

“Gods, (Y/N), I'm sorry…” she said, letting you go softly. “Tesoro, please, understand me, I love you so much that… I would do anything to protect you.”

“Leave me alone,” you hissed, pushing the lady away roughly. “Please, I want to be alone.”

“No, wait, wait, please,” Donna said, grabbing your wrist. “Please amore mio… For-forgive me…”

“You can't apologize for something you aren’t really sorry about. You don't regret what you've done, you're a psychopath,” you growled, tears streaming down your face again.

“Don't say that, please…” she sobbed, shaking her head at the harshness of your words. “Please… Stop, stop insulting me…”

“I love you Donna, but you made me think, so it's best that I go to my parents' house for a while,” you said grimly, with all the coldness you were capable of.

“No…” she sighed, opening her eye wide. Her breathing was completely uncontrolled. “No! Don't leave me!” she screamed desperately, throwing herself to the floor to grab your legs, losing her dignity.

“Let me go, Donna… I have, I have to think about many things… I need some time,” you said, struggling with the tearful mess that clung to your body. “Let me go!” you shrieked, pushing the tearful lady away from you, causing her to fall to the floor.

“No, don't leave!” she screamed furiously, her face torn by tears. “Don't leave me!”

“I'm sorry,” you said crying too, turning around only to hear her outburst of fury, how she hit everything with her fists while she cried in agony. “I'll come back when I have a clear mind.”

“No!” she screamed, hitting the floor with her fists, writhing in her madness. “YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!”

Her fury was hard to ignore as you walked towards the door.

“You can't leave me because I saved your life!” she finally sobbed.

Those words did something in your mind.

Saved your life…

You were so blinded by fear, so scared that you had forgotten the most important thing. Without leaving the room, you moved your hand to the wound on your head, unable to take another step.

That wound was not only a reminder of Donna's rage, of her sadism and torture. No, that wound had another meaning that you were beginning to sense.

Yes, she tortured that man. She made him suffer but… What would have happened if she hadn’t intervened? The answer was in the marks on your body, in the sad look of your best friend, in your terrible memories.

If Donna hadn’t been there to protect you, your end would have been long and horrible. Surely that disgusting man would have had fun with you until you were completely useless, and what for? Why leave the witness of your atrocities alive? No, you would have been of no use to him anymore.

 You would have died, like Mihaela’s sister.

That terrible truth ravaged your thoughts with horrible images of your body used and abandoned anywhere. That man was not a man. He was a beast, one which would never rest until it got what it wanted.

What would have happened if Donna had been merciful, if she had spared that wretch’s life? You could read the answer before your eyes, he would return.

Maybe not the next day, or the next month, but he would come back. Those kinds of disturbed people always did. And… If that were the case, what would happen to you? Your terrible end.

You couldn't stop thinking about when you were a child, when that beast was stalking you, about Mihaela's tears when she lost her sister. It was all so unfair, so terrible… Did that man really not deserve that torture?

For all the girls who suffered, for all the harm he did, for everything he was, he deserved it. He deserved every stab, even some more.

Then you realized your mistake of misinterpreting Donna's actions as those of a psychopath. Imagining that sinister smile of the lady again, you could see your friend, her sister smiling next to Donna, enjoying revenge, thanking the lady for make that monster pay for his crimes.

Donna had protected you, she had saved your life, she had saved what was hers. She had saved more girls from suffering in the future. She wasn't a bad person. She had her flaws, her illness, but still, she saved you and how did you thank her? By abandoning her, making her believe that saving you was a mistake.

You turned around slowly, looking at the lady curled up unable to stop crying, pulling at her hair.

You bit your lip and approached slowly, crouching down next to her.

“Donna, darling,” you said softly, freeing her from her own grip. She looked at you with her eye red from crying, unable to do anything else but sob. “Donna, stop, stop please, I'm still here…”

“(Y/N)…” she sobbed, blinking rapidly. “(Y/N)…”

“Shhh, it's over, my love… I'm not going anywhere. My place is here, with you…” you whispered in a calm voice. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I behaved like that, I… Donna, I haven't even thanked you for saving my life… I'm, I'm stupid…”

“Don't leave…” she whispered, letting you wipe her tears, staring at you. “Please…”

The lady in black, broken, bowed her head to your chest, head that you hugged without thinking, kneeling on the floor and comforting her crying.

“I won't leave, darling, I won't leave…” you repeated, holding back your tears. “I just got, I got scared… I was, I was scared.”

“How can you be afraid of me?” she asked, with her head buried in your dress. “I would never hurt you, never… E-Even if you leave me I… I would be incapable of hurting you… You are my precious girl, my sunshine, my everything… I love you more than anything… You have to believe me… I would never hurt you… Never!”

“I know, I know, Donna,” you said nodding, moving her away from your body so you could look at her properly, to relax her with a soft caress that preceded a tender, salty kiss, a kiss that ended her fears, and yours. “I love you, I love you… And… I, I like that you protect me, I want you to always protect me… Donna, my love… You are the love of my life…”

[lenievi]

TOS-tober day 3 (triumvirate prompts)

Favourite Star Trek headcanon?

Since this seems to be asking for something more general...

People go to space because they feel like they would keep stagnating on Earth. They want adventure and exploration. Not everyone joins Starfleet, though, because Starfleet and its rules and mechanization isn't for everyone, especially those who are more creatively inclined and need their freedom.

While Earth itself is considered a paradise, Earth colonies aren't. They're extremely dependent on Starfleet, and Starfleet doesn't always manage to provide help in time. Many people who live on these colonies don't see Starfleet officers favourably.

Kirk joined Starfleet because he can't stay in one place for too long. Earth isn't a place where he'd ever be happy. He needs challenges and he feels like he needs to struggle in order to move forward. He's not meant for paradise.

McCoy runs away from his past and toward a need for a challenge. At 26, he already developed a surgical procedure for the brain; he needs to be faced with the unknown and impossible to feel challenged and move forward.

Spock, as someone who doesn't feel he belongs anywhere, just tries to fit in among others who don't actually belong anywhere either. He ran from his homeworld and culture, but in truth, he ran and kept running from himself.

[prompts]

[gunstellations]

double trouble

[arson-09]

How people are trying to change fandom (the rise of hatred against non-canon media)

This was inspired by the rise of backlash against the "Rhysta" ship.

Traditionally throughout the history of fandom spaces on social media, a very important factor has been creativity of course. Art and Fics by fans being the backbone of a fandom. Including non-canon ships, Aus, etc. And of course there was drama (when is there not drama?) BUT there wasn't as much hate because there was an understanding that it's not REAL. People in fandoms understood creativity and thinking outside the box (canon)

But something interesting happened in 2020 with the pandemic, people who weren't apart of fandom spaces started joining cause what else were you going to do? but there started the divide. These people wouldn't have joined fandoms originally because they didn't have that sort of creativity. Which isn't a bad or negative thing, everyone is different and that what makes the world go around, but these people were not used to fandom spaces and that divergency. To them, things have to be how it was written and non-canon things, ships or au's that can't hurt you or become canon, were blasphemous. Because why change the foundation if you liked the original media? this also ties into the "why do you read or interact with this media?" questions when people engage with media in their own way even if they dislike the majority of it. which is valid to do, I do it personally with acotar. I dislike the majority of acotar from the way it's written to lots of the characters, but I interact with a certain subset of the fandom that shares a love for the same characters as I.

But these people, these mostly neurotypical, TikTok people, intrude into these safe creative spaces and cause a ruckus over non-canon Aus and ships. for no reason! Ships like Rhysta are harmless, of course people who make and consume this media don't think it's going to be real, and that's the misconception! Making and consuming non-canon media doesn't mean you think it's going to happen or want it to happen, it's just existing. existing for the sake of existing and stretching creative muscles. You can't grow as an artist if you do not break from the mold, from the restraints of canon.

What you are doing by constantly harassing and posting shit about non-canon media is showing you lack a fundamental understanding of Fandom. Policing what people do is a fruitless endeavor. of course, calling out actually problematic creators is okay, when what they're doing is actually harmful and not them being creative or God forbid, a little weird.

There has been and still needs to be respect in the places. Filtering tags for things that upset you and blocking creators you disagree with is key to being someone people will actually listen to and respect. If you refuse to do that, no one you harass, or attack will take you seriously. and maybe that's not your objective but that means you're going to be blocked on main and made fun of. And this segment is somewhat targeted at someone who has been consistently harassing my mutuals, but I've seen so many people like this and it's a real issue. And its such an issue in Booktok popular books and shows, and media that becomes popular with the masses.

Fandom spaces aren't meant to follow canon to a T. People will have non-canon ships, opinions on how they think the series should have gone, opinions on characters, etc. Constantly harassing and targeting creators won't change that.

I know this won't stop this behavior, it will continue to happen but it's been bothering me and maybe this will change some people's minds on how they interact with the media they like, and they hate.

I love rhysta, I think that the dynamic is very interesting and that people are free to explore that and say whatever they want about how it could have gone in canon. None of that means i think its going to happen or that it should. Lord, people are just having fun. Like they should in fandom places.

[blaithnne]

my timephoon hot take is that the episode was literally fine, it's the episodes that came AFTER it that fucked things up

[uselessnbee]

okay i don't want to be THAT bitch but if El calls out Mike on his bullshit in s5 how the love confession was shit and untrue i do kinda want Mike to turn around and be like "okay well what do you love me for?" because let's be real girl would not have an answer for that 💀

and maybe it would be good to be the last thing that would make her go oh i've never loved him that way either

like yes she totally should throw everything in Mike's face cause she deserves so much better but let's not pretend like she's a good girlfriend to him and it's just Mike being the problem

this fucker has been depressed and struggling for months and like did she ever even ask how is he doing? not her fault but the fact that Mike has been struggling and never once thought about talking to El because he doesn't feel like he can be vulnerable with her? the fact that he pretends he's someone he's not because he feels like she wouldn't want him for who he is? seriously no hate to El i love her to bits and yes Mike is bigger asshole in this but we really need to stop acting like El is perfect and can do no wrong

and that one time in s4 when Mike actually tried to be vulnerable with her and let her know that he understands because he's been bullied his whole life and she just invalidates his feelings and completely dismisses him? i do understand her pov and what she meant but as someone who's also been bullied and have so many people invalidate my feelings and how it affected me and still affects me to this day all the time it really hurt to hear it. the way Mike's feelings are constantly being invalidated and dismissed by both the characters in the show and this fandom just because "others have it worse" really disgusts me

anyways i really just want to point out that this is a relationship. there are two people in this relationship and it all goes both ways. it's not just Mike being an asshole friend and a shitty boyfriend. El isn't really a great girlfriend either and when they were just hanging out together the whole summer it is on El too. they're both just kids trying to do their best and making mistakes we can acknowledge that both of them make some really questionable things so they both can grow and learn

[pageofheartdj]

"It's Not Hard To Be Kind" is such a bullshit! Actually it DOES take a lot of energy and personal self work and patience and being mindful and being considerate.

Do NOT diminish people who do their best not to cause more harm. People who try their hardest to have an open heart and mind in any situation.

This shit is hard and kind people deserve all the respect!!

[upgradebitch]

this project is going to kill me

[ordonianhero]

Toxic behavior

Tw/Cw: discussing toxic behaviors involving being bullied or hurt by others. Mention of abuse/ assault of any sort.

I read a post this morning that went:

“if I am tell you about my past, it’s because I want you to know where I am coming from and why I am who I am.”

Okay. I get the mind set of this. However, what I read into that is “I went through some bad stuff, so if I am mean to you. This why.” Like no! That is extremely toxic way to treat people around you. If you think you can’t change and people should just deal how you talk or treat another- that’s not okay. Living in a dark negative mindset and pushing people who had no part in how you were treated in the past is not okay.

I do feel sorry that people think this is a normal behavior. It’s fine if you are guarded upon meeting meeting new people. It’s fine if it takes time to trust people again, but if people go out of their way to show you kindness and your way to treat them is the bite them (not literally) and to get over it because of something in your past- than your hurting someone who doesn’t deserve that.

I can tell you the numerous times I have been hurt by people I am sure had a good heart, but their response is mean and expected me to just deal with it because of what happened to them in the past. The past is the past, you learn to take the pain and hurt you have experienced and learn to show kindness towards people despite that. Not become the very thing that those who hurt you. People who did what they did (bullying and being mean) is because they too have probably been where you were. 

I feel sorry that people feel the need to tear others apart because of what has happened in the past. However I won’t ever not show them kindness still. The world can be an unforgiving and unfriendly place. We have all be through painful situations in our life time and I am sure I have said and did things unknowingly hurting someone else. For that I am deeply sorry if I have. Cause my own intentions are to be kind and friendly to who ever I meet.

But if you way to respond to someone being kind to you is to just treat that kindness with hurting them. Then you need to look at your self and be like “wow, I shouldn’t have done that. This person was just being a friendly person to me and my response was to hurt them- even though they did nothing to me to deserve that. I should probably change how I treat others. My past doesn’t make me who I am, it just shows me how I shouldn’t be. Those people must be hurting too.”

With that said, you can choose to either forgive or not forgive the way you were treated in the past, but this now, this is the present and there are generally good and caring people out there. You don’t have to like the person, but nobody deserves to be treated poorly because of something they never had a hand in causing the hurt you experienced.

My final thing I want to mention is when by hurt, I am discussing things that are along the the lines of abuse or some more extreme event that happened. I just strictly discussing being bullied. The mind set of attack them before they attack me when not warranted. Stuff. Abuse is abuse. That is never okay, whatever form it happened. Sorry that you ever had gone though that or are going through that. I get it is hard to trust others after how someone treats you. Just have faith, that the person talking to now though has no ulterior motive, other then to be your friend. 

I Hope in time, you will safe knowing the person is just wanting to be your friend. Thank you for taking your time to read this. I understand how hard it is when you gone through some stuff. I hope this post doesn’t come off wrong? I am not always good with words or context sometimes. My intention for this is to say, “we need to end the mind set to be mean to other based on past experiences and be the change.

Love you all! ❤️

[monsterfactoryfanfic]

if I've learned anything from grad school it's to check your sources, and this has proven invaluable in the dozens of instances when I've had an MBA-type try to tell me something about finances or leadership. Case in point:

Firefox serves me clickbaity articles through Pocket, which is fine because I like Firefox. But sometimes an article makes me curious. I'm pretty anal about my finances, and I wondered if this article was, as I suspected, total horseshit, or could potentially benefit me and help me get my spending under control. So let's check the article in question.

It mostly seems like common sense. "...track expenses and income for at least a month before setting a budget...How much money do I have or earn? How much do I want to save?" Basic shit like that. But then I get to this section:

This sounds fucking made up to me. And thankfully, they've provided a source to their claim that "research has repeatedly shown" that writing things down changes behavior. First mistake. What research is this?

Forbes, naturally, my #1 source for absolute dogshit fart-sniffing financial schlock. Forbes is the type of website that guy from high school who constantly posts on linkedin trawls daily for little articles like this that make him feel better about refusing to pay for a decent package for his employees' healthcare (I'm from the United States, a barbaric, conflict-ridden country in the throes of civil unrest, so obsessed with violence that its warlords prioritize weapons over universal medical coverage. I digress). Forbes constantly posts shit like this, and I constantly spend my time at leadership seminars debunking poor consultants who get paid to read these claims credulously. Look at this highlighted text. Does it make sense to you that simply writing your financial goals down would result in a 10x increase in your income? Because if it does, let me make you an offer on this sick ass bridge.

Thankfully, Forbes also makes the mistake of citing their sources. Let's check to see where this hyperlink goes:

SidSavara. I've never heard of this site, but the About section tells me that Sid is "a technology leader who empowers teams to grow into their best selves. He is a life-long learner enjoys developing software, leading teams in delivering mission critical projects, playing guitar and watching football and basketball."

That doesn't mean anything. What are his LinkedIn credentials? With the caveat that anyone can lie on Linkedin, Mr. Savara appears to be a Software Engineer. Which is fine! I'm glad software engineers exist! But Sid's got nothing in his professional history which suggests he knows shit about finance. So I'm already pretty skeptical of his website, which is increasingly looking like a personal fart-huffing blog.

The article itself repeats the credulous claim made in the Forbes story earlier, but this time, provides no link for the 3% story. Mr. Savara is smarter than his colleages at Forbes, it's much wiser to just make shit up.

HOWEVER. I am not the first person to have followed this rabbit hole. Because at the very top of this article, there is a disclaimer.

Uh oh!

Sid's been called out before, and in the follow up to this article, he reveals the truth.

You can guess where this is going.

So to go back to the VERY beginning of this post, both Pocket/Good Housekeeping and Forbes failed to do even the most basic of research, taking the wild claim that writing down your budget may increase your income by 10x on good faith and the word of a(n admittedly honest about his shortcomings) software engineer.

Why did I spend 30 minutes to make a tumblr post about this? Mostly to show off how smart I am, but also to remind folks of just how flimsy any claim on the internet can be. Click those links, follow those sources, and when the sources stop linking, ask why.

[aberooski]

I love Taylor. I always have and to some degree I always will. She means too much to me and is such an important figure and source of joy and light in my life when I desperately needed, and a connection to my own father that I need desperately, to deny that I will always look on her fondly to some degree as silly as that may seem sometimes and to some people.

But that doesn't mean I don't/won't/can't be critical of her or be disappointed or disagree with choices she makes or has made, because I absolutely have been and I absolutely am.

My problem is that I always, with every fiber of my being, look for and try to see the best in people and believe in people until I absolutely can't anymore. Unless it's something truly reprehensible and irredeemable, my brain simply cannot comprehend the idea that one bad decision or mistake trust me I know she's made more than one lately can automatically invalidate or negate anything and everything good a person has ever done. I've genuinely tried to understand it and unfortunately, I can't wrap my head around the concept. I give grace to a fault. I get sad when I see things said about her in a negative light even when I completely understand and even agree, because I have so much love for her in my heart. It's that tride and true naive, blind optimism in me I guess.

But I do not in any way think she's a perfect person, I know she isn't, because nobody is. Some are just better at hiding that than others. She makes mistakes, she's wrong sometimes, she is a human being who messes up. Sometimes in big ways. And unfortunately she's messed up a few times over the last year or so and that makes me sad. It disappoints me because I love her so much, and I do want and expect better of her. And in the process of that, it makes me very sad that I feel like I have to hide the facet of myself that does still love her despite my disappointment in her or risk making people upset with me now because I'm so afraid of upsetting people. I'm terrified of doing or saying the wrong things I try so hard to do the best I can every day and it's disappointing to see her slip up. It's sad. It makes me very sad.

It's a complicated time to love her right now. I hope, in my heart of hearts, I sincerely hope that sooner rather than later it won't have to be that way anymore. Not just for me, but for all of us who feel that complexity or conflict of emotions.

[delicatetaysversion]

sometimes i miss talking to that one person who didn't NEVER turned it into a competition about who has it worse and never told me well atleast you have [x]

[werewolf-kat]

Been really digging Frank's Laboratory on Youtube for JavaScript + Canvas tutorials since coming across him this past week. He keeps everything clear and shows patience for beginners. It's really been keeping me motivated to learn game dev in JS too! My dream...

[insipid-drivel]

Horses: Since There Seems To Be A Knowledge Gap

I'm going to go ahead and preface this with: I comment pretty regularly on clips and photos featuring horses and horseback riding, often answering questions or providing explanations for how or why certain things are done. I was a stable hand and barrel racer growing up, and during my 11 year tenure on tumblr, Professional Horse Commentary is a very niche, yet very necessary, subject that needs filling. Here are some of the literary and creative gaps I've noticed in well meaning (and very good!) creators trying to portray horses and riding realistically that... well, most of you don't seem to even be aware of, because you wouldn't know unless you worked with horses directly!

Some Of The Most Common Horse + Riding Mistakes I See:

-Anybody can ride any horse if you hold on tight enough/have ridden once before.

Nope. No, no, no, no, aaaaaaaand, no. Horseback riding has, historically, been treated as a life skill taught from surprisingly young ages. It wasn't unusual in the pre-vehicular eras to start teaching children as young as 4 to begin to ride, because horses don't come with airbags, and every horse is different. For most adults, it can take months or years of regular lessons to learn to ride well in the saddle, and that's just riding; not working or practicing a sport.

Furthermore, horses often reject riders they don't know. Unless a horse has been trained like a teaching horse, which is taught to tolerate riders of all skill and experience levels, it will take extreme issue with having some random person try to climb on their back. Royalty, nobility, and the knighted classes are commonly associated with the "having a favorite special horse" trope, because it's true! Just like you can have a particularly special bond with a pet or service animal that verges on parental, the same can apply with horses. Happy horses love their owners/riders, and will straight-up do their best to murder anyone that tries to ride them without permission.

-Horses are stupid/have no personality.

There isn't a more dangerous assumption to make than assuming a horse is stupid. Every horse has a unique personality, with traits that can be consistent between breeds (again, like cat and dog breeds often have distinct behavior traits associated with them), but those traits manifest differently from animal to animal.

My mother had an Arabian horse, Zipper, that hated being kicked as a signal to gallop. One day, her mom and stepdad had a particularly unpleasant visitor; an older gentleman that insisted on riding Zipper, but refused to listen to my mother's warnings never to kick him. "Kicking" constitutes hitting the horse's side(s) with your heels, whether you have spurs on or not. Most horses only need a gentle squeeze to know what you want them to do.

Anyway, Zipper made eye-contact with my mom, asking for permission. He understood what she meant when she nodded at him. He proceeded to give this asshole of a rider road rash on the side of the paddock fence and sent him to the emergency room. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't have the permission from the rider he respected, and was intelligent enough to ask, "mind if I teach this guy a lesson?" with his eyes, and understand, "Go for it, buddy," from my mom in return.

-Riding bareback is possible to do if you hold onto the horse's mane really tight.

Riding a horse bareback (with no saddle, stirrups, or traditional harness around the horse's head) is unbelievably difficult to learn, particularly have testicles and value keeping them. Even professional riders and equestrians find ourselves relying on tack (the stuff you put on a horse to ride it) to stay stable on our horses, even if we've been riding that particular horse for years and have a very positive, trusting relationship.

Horses sweat like people do. The more they run, the more their hair saturates with sweat and makes staying seated on them slippery. Hell, an overworked horse can sweat so heavily that the saddle slips off its back. It's also essential to brush and bathe a horse before it's ridden in order to keep it healthier, so their hair is often quite slick from either being very clean or very damp. In order to ride like that, you have to develop the ability to synchronize your entire body's rhythm's with the rhythm of the horse's body beneath you, and quite literally move as one. Without stirrups, most people can't do it, and some people can never master bareback riding no matter how many years they spend trying to learn.

-You can be distracted and make casual conversation while a horse is standing untethered in the middle of a barn or field.

At every barn I've ever worked at, it's been standard practice with every single horse, regardless of age or temperament, to secure their heads while they're being tacked up or tacked down. The secures for doing this are simple ropes with clips that are designed to attach to the horse's halter (the headwear for a horse that isn't being ridden; they have no bit that goes in the horse's mouth, and no reins for a rider to hold) on metal O rings on either side of the horse's head. This is not distressing to the horse, because we give them plenty of slack to turn their heads and look around comfortably.

The problem with trying to tack up an unrestrained horse while chatting with fellow stable hands or riders is that horses know when you're distracted! And they often try to get away with stuff when they know you're not looking! In a barn, a horse often knows where the food is stored, and will often try to tiptoe off to sneak into the feed room.

Horses that get into the feed room are often at a high risk of dying. While extremely intelligent, they don't have the ability to throw up, and they don't have the ability to tell that their stomach is full and should stop eating. Allowing a horse into a feed/grain room WILL allow it to eat itself to death.

Other common woes stable hands and riders deal with when trying to handle a horse with an unrestrained head is getting bitten! Horses express affection between members of their own herd, and those they consider friends and family, through nibbling and surprisingly rough biting. It's not called "horseplay" for nothing, because during my years working with horses out in the pasture, it wasn't uncommon at all for me to find individuals with bloody bite marks on their withers (that high part on the middle of the back of their shoulders most people instinctively reach for when they try to get up), and on their backsides. I've been love-bitten by horses before, and while flattering, they hurt like hell on fleshy human skin.

So, for the safety of the horse, and everybody else, always make a show of somehow controlling the animal's head when hands-on and on the ground with them.

-Big Horse = War Horse

Startlingly, the opposite is usually the case! Draft and carriage horses, like Percherons and Friesians, were never meant to be used in warfare. Draft horses are usually bred to be extremely even-tempered, hard to spook, and trustworthy around small children and animals. Historically, they're the tractors of the farm if you could afford to upgrade from oxen, and were never built to be fast or agile in a battlefield situation.

More importantly, just because a horse is imposing and huge doesn't make it a good candidate for carrying heavy weights. A real thing that I had to be part of enforcing when I worked at a teaching ranch was a weight limit. Yeah, it felt shitty to tell people they couldn't ride because we didn't have any horses strong enough to carry them due to their weight, but it's a matter of the animal's safety. A big/tall/chonky horse is more likely to be built to pull heavy loads, but not carry them flat on their spines. Horses' muscular power is predominantly in their ability to run and pull things, and too heavy a rider can literally break a horse's spine and force us to euthanize it.

Some of the best war horses out there are from the "hot blood" family. Hot blooded horses are often from dry, hot, arid climates, are very small and slight (such as Arabian horses), and are notoriously fickle and flighty. They're also a lot more likely to paw/bite/kick when spooked, and have even sometimes been historically trained to fight alongside their rider if their rider is dismounted in combat; kicking and rearing to keep other soldiers at a distance.

-Any horse can be ridden if it likes you enough.

Just like it can take a lifetime to learn to ride easily, it can take a lifetime of training for a horse to comfortably take to being ridden or taking part in a job, like pulling a carriage. Much like service animals, horses are typically trained from extremely young ages to be reared into the job that's given to them, and an adult horse with no experience carrying a rider is going to be just as scared as a rider who's never actually ridden a horse.

Just as well, the process of tacking up a horse isn't always the most comfortable experience for the horse. To keep the saddle centered on the horse's back when moving at rough or fast paces, it's essential to tighten the belly strap (cinch) of the saddle as tightly as possible around the horse's belly. For the horse, it's like wearing a tight corset, chafes, and even leaves indents in their skin afterward that they love having rinsed with water and scratched. Some horses will learn to inflate their bellies while you're tightening the cinch so you can't get it as tight as it needs to be, and then exhale when they think you're done tightening it.

When you're working with a horse wearing a bridle, especially one with a bit, it can be a shocking sensory experience to a horse that's never used a bit before. While they lack a set of teeth naturally, so the bit doesn't actually hurt them, imagine having a metal rod shoved in your mouth horizontally! Unless you understand why it's important for the person you care about not dying, you'd be pretty pissed about having to keep it in there!

-Horseback riding isn't exercise.

If you're not using every muscle in your body to ride with, you're not doing it right.

Riding requires every ounce of muscle control you have in your entire body - although this doesn't mean it wasn't realistic for people with fat bodies to stay their weight while also being avid riders; it doesn't mean the muscles aren't there. To stay on the horse, you need to learn how it feels when it moves at different gaits (walk, trot, canter, gallop), how to instruct it to switch leads (dominant legs; essential for precise turning and ease of communication between you and the horse), and not falling off. While good riders look like they're barely moving at all, that's only because they're good riders. They know how to move so seamlessly with the horse, feeling their movements like their own, that they can compensate with their legs and waists to not bounce out of the saddle altogether or slide off to one side. I guarantee if you ride a horse longer than 30 minutes for the first time, your legs alone will barely work and feel like rubber.

-Horses aren't affectionate.

Horses are extraordinarily affectionate toward the right people. As prey animals, they're usually wary of people they don't know, or have only recently met. They also - again, like service animals - have a "work mode" and a "casual mode" depending upon what they're doing at the time. Horses will give kisses like puppies, wiggle their upper lips on your hair/arms to groom you, lean into neck-hugs, and even cuddle in their pasture or stall if it's time to nap and you join them by leaning against their sides. If they see you coming up from afar and are excited to see you, they'll whinny and squeal while galloping to meet you at the gate. They'll deliberately swat you with their tails to tease you, and will often follow you around the pasture if they're allowed to regardless of what you're up to.

-Riding crops are cruel.

Only cruel people use riding crops to hurt their horses. Spurs? I personally object to, because any horse that knows you well doesn't need something sharp jabbing them in the side for emphasis when you're trying to tell them where you want them to go. Crops? Are genuinely harmless tools used for signalling a horse.

I mean, think about it. Why would crops be inherently cruel instruments if you need to trust a horse not to be afraid of you and throw you off when you're riding it?

Crops are best used just to lightly tap on the left or right flank of the horse, and aren't universally used with all forms of riding. You'll mainly see crops used with English riding, and they're just tools for communicating with the horse without needing to speak.

-There's only one way to ride a horse.

Not. At. All. At most teaching ranches, you'll get two options: Western, or English, because they tend to be the most popular for shows and also the most common to find equipment for. English riding uses a thinner, smaller saddle, narrower stirrups, and much thinner bridles. I, personally, didn't like English style riding because I never felt very stable in such a thin saddle with such small stirrups, and didn't start learning until my mid teens. English style riding tends to focus more on your posture and deportment in the saddle, and your ability to show off your stability and apparent immovability on the horse. It was generally just a bit too stiff and formal for me.

Western style riding utilizes heavier bridles, bigger saddles (with the iconic horn on the front), and broader stirrups. Like its name may suggest, Western riding is more about figuring out how to be steady in the saddle while going fast and being mobile with your upper body. Western style riding is generally the style preferred for working-type shows, such as horseback archery, gunning, barrel racing, and even rodeo riding.

-Wealthy horse owners have no relationship with their horses.

This is loosely untrue, but I've seen cases where it is. Basically, horses need to feel like they're working for someone that matters to them in order to behave well with a rider and not get impatient or bored. While it's common for people to board horses at off-property ranches (boarding ranches) for cost and space purposes, it's been historically the truth that having help is usually necessary with horses at some point. What matters is who spends the most time with the animal treating it like a living being, rather than a mode of transport or a tool. There's no harm in stable hands handling the daily upkeep; hay bales and water buckets are heavy, and we're there to profit off the labor you don't want or have the time to do. You get up early to go to work; we get up early to look after your horses. Good owners/boarders visit often and spend as much of their spare time as they can with spending quality work and playtime with their horses. Otherwise, the horses look to the stable hands for emotional support and care.

So, maybe you're writing a knight that doesn't really care much for looking after his horse, but his squire is really dedicated to keeping up with it? There's a better chance of the horse having a more affectionate relationship with the squire thanks to the time the squire spends on looking after it, while the horse is more likely to tolerate the knight that owns it as being a source of discipline if it misbehaves. That doesn't mean the knight is its favorite person. When it comes to horses, their love must be earned, and you can only earn it by spending time with them hands-on.

-Horses can graze anywhere without concern.

This is a mistake that results in a lot of premature deaths! A big part of the cost of owning a horse - even before you buy one - is having the property that will be its pasture assessed for poisonous plants, and having those plants removed from being within the animal's reach. This is an essential part of farm upkeep every year, because horses really can't tell what's toxic and what isn't. One of the reasons it's essential to secure a horse when you aren't riding it is to ensure it only has a very limited range to graze on, and it's your responsibility as the owner/rider to know how to identify dangerous plants and keep your horses away from them.

There's probably more. AMA in my askbox if you have any questions, but that's all for now. Happy writing.

[burnedself]

Something something all of the Doctor's post Time War incarnations being colored by it vs one of 12's last statements being about 'leaving the battlefield' something something 13 being more emotionally well-adjusted in contrast something something

[foldingfittedsheets]

The dog I think of as My Dog was picked up from the shelter when I was about 16 and he was six months old. He was a cattle dog mix, which at the time was really uncommon in our area.

We were only getting a dog because my mom was worried about home invaders which was a bit insane as we were out in the country and we’d left our German Shepherd down in Arizona with my dad for complicated reasons.

I turned the corner and saw him. Instant connection. He was curled up dozing, all blue and white freckles with red ears and feeties. His clipboard said “SLY” in huge red letters. I called it softly and he opened his eyes, ears perking. He roused to sleepily amble toward me, lick my fingers, then go lay back down.

My mom joined me in dismay, seeing the love dripping off of me. She hadn’t wanted a puppy but it was clear which dog we were going home with.

Sly was a monstrous puppy. Fans of cattle dogs will be unsurprised to learn he was exceedingly clever, mischievous and Bored a Lot. It turned out his name hadn’t been Sly. It was Billy. But I think we all know why a huge red warning had been applied to his kennel. We named him Sly anyway.

My mom doesn’t remember threatening in earnest to bring him back but it happened. Sly loved to chew. He had no interest in fetch or most toys but he adored chewing. I lost headphones, backpack straps, and pillows to his voracious teething. We tried to dissuade him. He just learned to chew when we weren’t looking. Then one day, clever but not smart, he set his teeth to a plugged in cord and electrocuted himself. He was fine, just really startled!

Thus ended the chewing, forever.

He wouldn’t even pick up toys. He was fully convinced having things in his mouth was only a matter of time before they turned on him. He’d run after a ball at dog parks, grab it in the euphoria of the chase, then immediately spit it out.

He was still a lot of dog and my moms rumblings about his poor behavior led me to join 4H with him. My friend Lia was in with her spaniels so I had an in. We did twice weekly training in obedience and showmanship.

That was it. Sly transformed into the best dog. From a bored unmanageable puppy he became a partner, ready to work on whatever we needed to work on. He learned buckets of commands, eager to please. Sit, down, wait, stand, front, back up, shake, roll, heel. The only thing we could never convince him to do was speak. His bark was reserved for Danger.

We went to compete in the county fair together, entering obedience trials and dog show portions.

The instructions are clearly stated before obedience testing. A dog must stay sitting for two minutes when told to stay, and three minutes for laying down. If our dog broke we were not supposed to speak to reissue commands, simply wait quietly.

It was us in a line with five other dogs. He passed the sitting part just fine. The down one was longer and a wretched golden retriever broke. But then his trainer pulled out a ball and started trying to redirect him with it. The other dogs watched with interest but stayed down. Sly started up. He desperately wanted to herd the golden back into place.

With elbows off the ground he froze, realizing his mistake. His head whipped to me. In silence, I swept my arm down in the nonverbal command for down. He dropped obediently and watched me fixedly for the rest of the time. I think he could feel my disappointment.

We failed.

But the judge came up to us afterward as I was petting him and said, “I was so impressed your dog knows nonverbal commands, and that other dog was so distracting! Let’s retest with the next batch.”

I was thrilled and Sly was steadfast, staring unblinkly at me for the full three minutes with utter determination. He won blue ribbons in obedience and got later best in breed since there was no other cattle dogs.