Dutifullyoptimisticdeer - Senza Titolo - Tumblr Blog

Thank you so much! I am really touched!

Does anyone remember when I made that post about what if Bloom had lost the fight against Nebula and had to give her the wizards? Well, I asked if anyone would want to see that as a fanfic, and @dutifullyoptimisticdeer said that they would love to read it, so here you go! I’m so sorry it took so long, but I hope you like it!

I’d love to hear thoughts, as always!

I physically need someone to make me a whump, hurt comfort fanfiction in which Colin and the 1800s Avengers-wanna-be fail to stop the balloon and Lord Debling (we love you plant boy) gets wounded from shielding Penelope. So she starts to take care of him (or at least be there for him and they genuinely fall in love)

God I miss the days when you could show up to a stranger’s farm and he’d say “What’s your name, boy?” and you’d take off your hat and hold it to your chest to better let him see your face and reply “Why I ain’t got none, sir, on account of my mammy passed on before she could give me one” and he’d tell you he’s real damn sorry to hear that and ask what he can do you for and you’d tell him that you can’t read nor even write neither but you’re mighty good with horses and can mend them fallen fence posts what you saw on your way in and won’t ask for nothing much more than a hot meal and a warm barn to sleep in and he’d keep his wife and daughters inside but send his boy who ain’t got married yet even though his mama tells him he needs a woman out with a lantern and some stew at night and the two of you’d get to talkin and he’d throw you his flask to take a swig from and watch you drinkin from it while he leant against the door frame and when he finally got called back on up to the house again he’d take a sip from it too real slow-like like it weren’t the whiskey what he were tryna savour

My ancestors *watching me peal a mango and bite into it like an apple because I am too lazy to cut it* : Our daughter is eating the golden apple of the gods, from lands far away delivered to her hand by a fair lad, she prospers!

I just got into college

I feel like i am 2 years behind

Ahead of all my peers but I don't feel fine

I feel scared and I feel guilty

'cause my parents will foot the bill

and my physiology's degree in Italy

probably wont pay the rent

i got it figured out when I was like six

but now the time is coming and i just want to weep.

My friend is flirting with soldiers on IG

while I wish I was joking but i think there will be a War

and playing nurse is my thing

but not in real life .

I should be studying proteins

but i am writing this

because i am anxious and life is what it is

I want to hug them, and kiss their heads, and bring them somewhere warm . Somwhere safe where they can lay down,drink chamomile and eat lavender bread and maybe, just maybe, try to forget everything for a moment.

I like Hector of Troy but also Brutus.

I like the epitome of virtue and loyalty and the traitor.

What does that say about me?

Brutus laid awake the night after he killed his father and wept

King Arthur let Mordred's broken body in his arms, he cradled him against his chest and let his son die safe and comforted,forgiven and understood.

My dad is a Christian but when at 8,after hearing the story of Isacc and Abraham, i asked if he would do something like that to me he said "No, I love you too much".What is God's love in front of your child?

Hector died knowing his wife would be raped and his son would be killed, and that in a way it was his fault for not being strong enough.

HISTORICAL TIKTOK

Do not tell me it would not be like this:

1)*Alexander the great as a child* "Hi I am Ale-" *Alexander the great as an adult* "They know who you are"

Hall of Fame as the sound

2) Brutus....well "BACKSTABBER"

3) Napoleon *il sera formidableeeeeee"

4) The spartans at the thermopiles *You and I ...we were born to die"

5) Alcibiades "YOU WILL MISS ME WHEN I AM GONE"

Give me someone to love

Gods i have so much love to give. I am aching to give it to someone, to pour this all into someone who deserve it.

I am not pretty , I am not beautifull, I have a bit to much flesh on my bones to be but by the gods I am going to hold him when he cries.

I am going to make him soup when he is sick. I am going to buy him flowers because men deserve flowers.

I am going to help him with homework and he will help me

I will be good, I have so much love to give, I swear . I will be good, I just want someone to give me half a chance.

I will learn his birthday and knit him a blanket, I will embroider his name inside my pocket to hold him over my heart.

I will kiss his aches, and give him my heart. I will tell him he is beautiful and maybe he will think i am cute.

Fuck that I will be their emergency phone call, I will want to be his, I will be the sunlight to his midnight rain or any other shitty love song reference.

I will be good, I have so much to give. I just want to love someone .

I am going to the estetichian and i will come back as smooth as a babies butt

In another universe, my brother gets to be born and live, and I get to hug him.

in another universe, you realize that she isn’t good for you and we get to be friends again

Me and my Brother

I don't have a brother. I never had one, nor was I supposed to. If he had been born, I would not have come along....”One and done” says my mother. I don't blame her, one kid is enough is no shame, I like being an only child, I learned to play by myself, solitude grew with me in my bedroom walls.

And yet my brother is there, sometimes, not always, but sometimes is like I can feel him, the smell of his hair, how his shirt would feel against my cheek.

When i am alone, my parents working till night before Christmas, when I am struggling with homework, when I see a girl and her brother.

I long for him, maybe that's why I write about Brothers so much, the older ones are the ones that come out best. I give them every virtue, I made them bold and brave and smart, protective, confident. The flaws change, but the virtues are always the same.

I don't have a brother, never had one, nor I was supposed to, but if someone ask me about my brother I could tell them every detail.

He would be older, 4 years or so, he would be 23. 

Since I am yellow and orange he would be green and lilac, we would fit like missing pieces. 

I look like my father, like every first daughter. He would be my mother’s painting, like every good firstborn son. 

Since I am history and literature, he would have been Art. His hands covered in watercolor, mine in paper cuts from the Latin dictionary. 

I am a dumbo squid, so to make things fair, while I stay in the deps he would have been a bird flying high, unafraid, no needing pressure to stay alive.

I don't know if there is a reality we both exist in, I don't know how we would have made another bed fit in my room, but I know he would smell like pine tree like our father, have my same tendency to cry for books and curls behind his hears, just like our mom and me too.

I know he would steal my fancy perfume, because truly is a male perfume but it is just so nice, I know I would steal make him cake to convince him to illustrate my biology notes for me, I know he would do it even withouth cake.

My brother didn't make it, there was something wrong... Incompatible with life, something about his heart, I never press on it. It would make mom sad. And yet he is still here. My parents told me about him once and he never left my mind, not for to long at least, i can go months withouth thinking of him sure, but then the notion pops in, he appears, and is like a punch in the stomach, 

I dont have a brother, never had one, nor i was supposed to but I do. If you are never born, can you truly die? Maybe that's why he is still here.

I hope they are happy

I hope my ancestors are happy, I hope they look down on me and are so, so proud of themselves, and maybe a little bit of me. 

I get to get ready to go out with a friend (How many girls in my bloodline did the same? I don't think there is anything more universal), I get to put coconut oil in my hair and spray it profume on me (My great-grandparents probably didn't even know what a coconut was), I get to put Arnica gel on my poor legs after going to the gym (My ancestors were roman, maybe a soldier long, long ago did the same thing with the same kind of plant), I have gold and silver on my wrists, rings and bracelets (My mother’s name means “Leftovers” they had nothing, nothing, and now i wear gold and silver)

I get to do all of this because of them, because they existed, and they loved, and they hoped and prayed and did all they could to give their children a better life than the one they had (“Everything we do is for you,dont you dare feel guilty about that” my fathers say when i am sad because they have to spend money on me). And I am so so thankful, and I wish I could repay them, I wish I could do something to show them how much it meant at the end, how good they did, because gods they deserve to know that.

And i hope and i wish and i pray i am making them proud to because i am doing my very very best, to make a name for myself and make my family, all of them included so so proud of me and make sure my kinds, like me, like their kids, got to live a better life than the one i had, even if mine is really really good and i am thankfull.

I will never be 18 again , the day before school ends,sitting outside with my class as we read poems (there Is the irish man from the 9th century, and the neo-greeks all drinking tea with Garcia L'orca)

Life

The sun is shining, the rain is pourting at the same time. The garden is green and lush for summer and the thunders are strong. I whent outside and danced in the rain for a couple of seconds before going back inside. I got to study, tommorow is the last test, then school is over. The day after i will go the city with my friends and we will have fun...life is good once again.

Life is good

I am  18 and up in my room , the sun is hitting my window just right, I got chamomile for my tired eyes and a big bottle of sparkling water. I worked out, my legs still a tiny bit sore , I smell like coconut because my mom gifted me a whole new bathroom set since is my favorite. I am studying philosophy for my last exam of the year, words of Locke and Kant in front of me eager to be understood. Mom and Dad are gardening downstairs, the jasmine is blooming and the apples are almost ripe, Sunday i am going to the  big city with my friends,we will get summer dresses and snacks.  Life is good and i truly hope it can stay like this. I truly hope everyone gets to be this happy.

The seed of Good

Aeschylus wrote beautiful Tragedies, the heartbreaking ones, where no one is innocent and you can feel the weight of fate in each single line, you can hear the echoes of the people of Athens when they first got to see it, the smell of the candles, the smoke of the pyre, the taste of the blood and the soft red carpet that brought a king straight to slaughter.

That being said, he thought that Evil was a seed, long, long ago someone committed something so unspeakable that even the gods screamed in horror and cursed the bloodline. Now that seed of evil, that mark , that tainted blood needs to be awoken to act, is a inclination not a sentence, humans do have free will after all. Agamenon didnt have to kill his daughter, he chose to, his wife didnt have to kill him, she chose to.

I like to think that good works like that to. Long ,long ago, someone committed something so generous and good that even the gods smiled upon them, someone took a child in even if their own children were way to many mouths to feed, and that child grew up and made a gift for the ones who saved him, and now a great-something-daughter, of that family gets to write about it. I hope that that act of kindness left a seed of good in me, i hope i am making the right choices, i am hoping i will get to pass it on on my own children. I hope that one day there will be enough good people that the only acts of true Evil will be left will be the tragedies in a old book.

That one solider

There was this soldier, this legionary in Pompeii, when the sky turned to flames and the world became fear and fire. I would have run, *I* would have run, threw my body in the sea because what else is left to do when ground and sky are ablaze than to seek refuge in the water. I would have left my shield and sword (like Archilcus the poet sang about) ,I would have shoved and pushed and fought my way to safety ,we are humans we want to life after all, even strong men like soldiers are just humans at the end. But that one soldier, that one soldier decided that he had to be brave and be strong, and he lead people to safety, he died in the act. He was afraid, let’s admit it we all know he was scared, we all know that maybe he was crying as he saw his city die, still he did his duty and kept the other save....and now centuries later ,we know about him and that single moment of selfless, reckless, beautiful courage and humanity is burned in the fabric of history forever.

My parents’ friend

My parent's friend’s died before I was born, he was a bit crazy,one hell of a mind, he worked hard and was an electrician, he had his motorbike in his bedroom for some reason (no one actually figured out how he managed to move that there each winter alone withouth fail),his brother, another family friend is my uncle more than my actual uncles. Each year there is a concert in his honor, and there is a trumpet piece they always do that will make your whole body shiver if you got to hear it. The details have always been fuzzy for me, death was something my parents tried to shelter me from ,it didnt work, i have been more funerals that one should have been at my age in my opinion, yet they just now started to share things about him. He built the electrical system in the garage and the laudry room in my house, i never knew that, when we came back last night and i saw the lights there (working perfectly after 20 years) I thought that even when we are gone little pieces of us will always remain, even people who havent known us will remeber us...maybe truly all humans are connected somehow.

First-world girl

Sometimes being lucky and privileged punches you in the face, it does make me happy for sure, but there is that moment when you go “ God damn are we sure i deserve this much?”  For real, I am here sitting on my brand-new desk from IKEA, with my 20 or so pastel highlighters, 2 dictionaries of dead languages that i get to study for free just because I was born in the right place in the right time, the bracelets on my wrists are worth enough to feed a family for a year somewhere, and we aren't even that rich!  My parents have a job, butchers, working class... they spoil me, they love me . “Everything we do is for you” that what my dad always says “You are my princess, don't you dare feel guilty about that”. I started to knit, and I got yarn, I wanted to do pretty titles for my maps and my mom got me calligraphy pens... I try to not ask for much but still sometimes the light on my window hits my bed just right and everything is golden and perfect, the canaries sing in the living room and I know the wisterias (the one my mom planted when she moved in 30 or so years ago and my overgrown bonsai) are blooming and I think that my life is perfect, so perfect i dont deserve to be the one living it.

Ancestors

Ok that TikTok trend about speaking to ancestors is trowing my classical-student rotten brain into mush! 

I am getting emotional over everything now each time i do something i am hugged by the sense of belonging because people have always been people are we are so much alike it hurts as much as it makes everything so much more beautiful

 Like how many women spend time knitting in bed happy to have found the yarn of their favorite color just like i am? 

Some roman soldier read the same Aeneid  I am studying now, and was  pissed of at Odysseus for leaving one of his men with the cyclops?

I put fancy lotions on my skin like Greek women did? 

 A church in my town is older than my country itself, how many people have been there before me? I might have their blood running in my veins.

I have a Latin dictionary from 1927, a student had a note with the third declination written in it, I did the same on mine because i cannot memorize it for the life of me.

I wore light blue eyeshadow today, maybe an Egyptian woman  did the very same thing this very same day just thousands of years before me?

Ginkgos are older than humanity itself, most of us to seen at least one in our life i think.

We all have names and a favorite color, and a best friend, and we all felt love at least once, we all probably ate too much of our favorite food once or twice, we all felt the sun on our face and saw the star at night and maybe if we thought about it a bit more we  will all fell closer.