Tus labios, mis dientes

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[nalgua]

gildedscripture:

God if there was one drop of soup spilled on her nice rug, Giulia would have been lost to the fury, good thinking Antonia.

“I’m indulging myself.” Okay so maybe she’s not completely done being thorny, “I have no pets or extra pillows lying around, and you are heated.” No need to plug her in, “You also come when I say to.” Audience laugh track.

She loves flowers like her in their natural state. Only cowards will dethorn a rose. Thorny, splintered, prickly and tender, however she arrives is how she will receive her. She isn’t afraid of bleeding for her love. That being said, Antonia is afraid of rodents, so, I mean, well - okay - she has her limits, she’s human, is the point,

“And,” she smooths Giulia’s dark, coppery-brown hair back with both of her hands, “because I love you.” For her companionship, for her embrace, for her secret cocktail recipes that she won’t relinquish until she is certain that she is dying, “and you deserve it.”

[nalgua]

gildedscripture:

Oh? It’s not? Why couldn’t it be?

“Ay.” She hates this because she’s right, Giulia wishes to be coddled and to bury her face into Antonia’s breasts and maybe sleep for a thousand years. “I stopped listening to men centuries ago, it was the best decision I ever made.” Truly! No regrets, she just wishes she did it sooner. When her fathers were still alive so she could tell them to fuck off.

And–indignities of all indignities–Giulia reaches out with both her arms to Antonia (TRUE vulnerability), and makes gimme gestures. “Come.”

Thank god she put the soup down because lord knows she would have dropped it instantaneously to go fill the her-shaped void in Giulia’s arms. It is as natural as breathing, to accept this invitation, but perhaps even more necessary and twice as fulfilling.

She takes great care to not tangle either of their hair into her earrings (we are not repeating the same mistake twice...in a week), brushing it back behind her ear so that she can press her cheek to Giulia’s. Who needs kittens? She is softer, cuddlier, and her claws...are also retractable. Perfect for making biscuits especially with such supple dough available.

“You’re indulging me,” she could cry, planting a kiss wherever she can on her face, “you know it, right?”

[nalgua]

@gildedscripture / why do we perform for an audience that doesn’t care?

She pauses–because, fuck, that sentence…Every time she’s had to fix up her make up after a cry, every time she’s had to check in the mirror to make sure she’s presentable before going back outside. Male fantasies have ruined her sadness. Her rage.

“Fuck.” Giulia is very eloquent tonight, “I’ll drink to that.”

“Cincin,” she murmurs back in response, putting her head on Giulia’s shoulder and knocking her knuckles into hers. That’s enough of a cheers, but now she wants an actual drink. She doesn’t want to move, though, only moving to wrap her fingers around Giulia’s during a moment of silence.

“I think we need something sweet and warming, something to take the edge off of this life. We can hop into a vat of cider, light a cinnamon candle,” she jokes.

[nalgua]

i forgot this blog was dash only rn but i’ll get something like a bio up and running i promise

[nalgua]

@gildedscripture / ‘not sick just a little highly depressed’ the novel

“Me? Sick?” Ha! “You must have heard wrong, I’m not sick.” Not physically. Maybe. She’s just a little…highly depressed…You know how it is, “Of course, I’m hardly going to let you waste perfectly good soup, come come–”

If she were to have said ‘come’ one more time she would have to strip, unable to not obey direct orders three times from her señora, but alas, this is not that sort of literature. Her invitation she will gladly accept, trotting in with her warm smile and her warm skin and her warm soup (okay, maybe lukewarm by now).

“Well, you know what they say,” she chirps, more than happy to find a happy home on a counter for the lovingly jarred soup, “‘don’t listen to men, everything they say is wrong.’ I knew you would take it anyhow, but I...”

Antonia slips off her one (1) kitchen mitt... that she brought all the way from home... it’s magic, “I more or less envisioned that you needed me to coddle you, and now I’m the one who needs you to need it.”

[nalgua]

gildedscripture:

Antonia’s acts of love frequently make little sense to Giulia. But the sharing of food is familiar. It’s good. A ritual she’s familiar with. Intimate and sacred. “Oh? I’m honored.” She chuckles, rubbing her temples, “On the side is fine. Maybe some extra.” Giulia does not love her for it, but despite it. On what planet is ham the same as prosciutto? Lord in heaven, “Are you ordering drinks too?”

“I was just about to ask you that question. Why are you always on the tip of my tongue?” She grins at her cochinada, tongue held between her teeth as she chuckles, scrolling, and scrolling, and scrolling. The answer is obviously because she’s sweet as mead and equally as intoxicating. Also, bees love her...

“Ach, animales, they know how to strategically place a picture. They want me to want to add everything into the cart.”

[marmartea]

“ Hacia donde caminan los besos inciertos cuando resbala la madrugada. Peinamos Gran Vía buscando huesos y luces verdes que nunca se apagan. 

En la Roma o en Palermo, en Gracia o la Candelaria se acuesta la misma historia soñando con ser soñada.“  

[theninthxian]

This is Tofu, my parakeet 

[Tofu chirps] She’s so poetic

[starts crying]

[nalgua]

If she dies, you should fry her, and then she can be fried tofu. [COOCHIE COOCHIE COO BIRDIE]

[theninthxian]

[nalgua]

It was a suggestion.

[nalgua]

gildedscripture:

Giulia’s half sure her spine is spliced with that of a cat’s to be able to bend that way. Gatuchina.

“You want the works.” Giulia sighs, rubbing the side of her head, not once doubting that Antonia considers food a better lover than any other she’s had–At least on the men side of things, “Yeah yeah, I had breakfast.” It was two macchiatos and half a cigarette, “I’ll just take a salad, maybe some soup.” They both know she’s going to end up eating more than that, though, “My wallet’s in my purse, order at your leisure."

Food was there when she hadn’t received a letter back and it had been a whole week. :( Granted back then it took at least two weeks. But still...

“Save your money, you.” This is her act of love. Ordering food for them and making sure that it is a big soup, just in case she would like some as well. “That man has run off again to be sad in some corner of his world, so I have more than enough right now to buy you a salad.”

Antonia is smiling still but there is a gentle throbbing across her temple at the mention of her other half. She has been irritated but understanding for the last few months, but now she is maybe just a little bit over it. “With melon on the side or without? I like the ham they use,” she means prosciutto, but we love her for it.

[gildedscripture-deactivated2022]

nalgua‌:

“I’m not currently eating. But I will be,” she sing-songs, bringing Giulia’s hand near her mouth to fake nibble on her fingers before letting go. They have urgent matters to attend to, and she needs somewhere to rest her plush haunches. “We will be, so long as that one place around here can do delivery. Did you know there are apps for that?”

Maybe she is a fool, but she knows she is not unwanted here. With centuries of trust and loyalty and memories — and very good wine — highs and lows and all of the inbetweens shared between them, she isn’t going to stop annoying Giulia now. Especially not when food is a tap away.

For now, Antonia rests her phone atop her chest, leaning back into the comfort of Giulia’s very expensive sofa. It is becoming increasingly harder to not become part of it. Maybe then Giulia will sit on her.

“We could get mussels.”

Ay cochina.

Trust and loyalty is right. Antonia is probably the only other nation Giulia would invite to poker.

“All I use my phone for is business.” And playing Candy Crush. “But yes, they deliver.” And still have killer desserts. 

A glance at the little Antonia puddle forming on her luxury sofa, “Mussels? Just by themselves?” No spaghetti? Then again, she supposes she shouldn’t be surprised, “No hot sauce? Some vinegar?”

[nalgua]

Antonia has more or less lost all control of her spinal cord and is now resting on her side, phone held up to her face like a three year old watching an unboxing.

“I want the good hot sauce. Just a little dab, on the tongue.” Now she’s holding the phone far away from her face, arms held straight out! “Oh, and the bread. With the dipping oil. I love it when it’s nice and crusty,” she sighs as if remembering an old lover, now full on curled up on the sofa. Eventually they both knew that she would assume fetal position, curls splayed out, hands ensuring that her ass dignity is protected from full view by smoothing down her skirt.

“You had breakfast today, right?” She has to check on her friend and make sure it wasn’t just a cigarette and a macchiato. “We could do something heavier if need be.”

[gildedscripture-deactivated2022]

nalgua‌:

“You don’t need to be dressed at all.” Were her eyes emitting more warmth, they would melt into a pool of caramel and green tones, onto the floor…

As long as Giulia could still see herself in them it would be fine, she thinks to herself, practically bouncing with energy already. She rejuvenates her, even if all she’s doing is letting her hold onto her beautiful fingers. Yes, she…… thinks her fingers are beautiful…… don’t think about it too much,

“What do you take me for, hm? We could be vested with sacks of flour or adorned in laurel, it doesn’t matter.” The ‘so-long-as-we’re-together’ part is heavily alluded to in her grin. “So long as you will still break bread with me.”

Ay cochina.

Giulia doesn’t pull away, though.

Antonia’s energy is usually so tiresome; Giulia feels so old alongside it. But it does moisturize her skin to see her friend’s smile, if nothing else. “I take you for a fool.” And she’s right, as far as she’s concerned. She’ll lightly tap her painted nails against Antonia’s palm, “You are always eating.” She sighs, “I think that’s why we get along so well.” Enjoyers of gastronomy unite. 

[nalgua]

“I’m not currently eating. But I will be,” she sing-songs, bringing Giulia’s hand near her mouth to fake nibble on her fingers before letting go. They have urgent matters to attend to, and she needs somewhere to rest her plush haunches. “We will be, so long as that one place around here can do delivery. Did you know there are apps for that?”

Maybe she is a fool, but she knows she is not unwanted here. With centuries of trust and loyalty and memories — and very good wine — highs and lows and all of the inbetweens shared between them, she isn’t going to stop annoying Giulia now. Especially not when food is a tap away.

For now, Antonia rests her phone atop her chest, leaning back into the comfort of Giulia’s very expensive sofa. It is becoming increasingly harder to not become part of it. Maybe then Giulia will sit on her.

“We could get mussels.”

[gildedscripture-deactivated2022]

nalgua replied to your post “GIULIA!”

“Of course they do, I’m not the other one.” The other one being her beloved, maybe slightly… estranged brother, who… bah, who cares. Antonia reaches out to hold her hands. “It’s good to see *you*.”

In other words: she’s not the one who was addicted to coke. She needs to remember to send dear Toñin a gift basket soon, “Is that so?” Giulia snerks, but she’s already counting the ways that the other could be trying to trick her into something. Nothing evil, of course, Antonia is delightfully soft, “I didn’t even get a chance to get properly dressed.” She’s only wearing TWO pieces of designer wear.

[nalgua]

“You don’t need to be dressed at all.” Were her eyes emitting more warmth, they would melt into a pool of caramel and green tones, onto the floor...

As long as Giulia could still see herself in them it would be fine, she thinks to herself, practically bouncing with energy already. She rejuvenates her, even if all she’s doing is letting her hold onto her beautiful fingers. Yes, she...... thinks her fingers are beautiful...... don’t think about it too much,

“What do you take me for, hm? We could be vested with sacks of flour or adorned in laurel, it doesn’t matter.” The ‘so-long-as-we’re-together’ part is heavily alluded to in her grin. “So long as you will still break bread with me.”

[nalgua]

is my blog still marked nsfw

[dulcifluous-blog]

nalgua:

“You’re going to bruise me.” SO LET ME GET CLOSER. She wants to be held, Anna. Like a small dog, or a fish bowl. “If I was a dolphin, I would only eat crab, because it just makes more sense. They’re so yummy. Do you think they have fish restaurants? With eel waiters?”

“And you will forgive me, immediately.” Speaking like she’s a hypnotist, Anneliese gives the other a soft pat on the head. “You know, when you talk about things like that, I consider being sick. I’m going to ask you nicely to knock it off.” There’s some head knocking in play if her wishes aren’t followed.

[nalgua]

“I don’t think you’re very accepting of their fish culture, querida. I guess you’re feeling a little...”

Please god strike her down her joke is so bad.

“Sea-nophobic today?”

She will gladly accept the raps to her forehead because oh-my-god what a GOOD JOKE HAHA

[dulcifluous-blog]

nalgua:

“They’re tiny friends,” she cries, literally cries, a tiny tear falling down her face because she’s also drunk because she’s dramatic. Antonia will hug the fish bowl and wibble the rest of her tears away. “I love their fins. And their rainbow scales. And they can’t run away! Except crabs, and eels, but you don’t want eels as friends.“

Once again, Anneliese shivers, looking completely mortified by the concept. “Oh, disgusting! Those are absolutely the worst, Antonia, what’s wrong with you.” A whine follows, and the other gets smack on the shoulder for her terrible, horrible crimes. 

[nalgua]

“You’re going to bruise me.” SO LET ME GET CLOSER. She wants to be held, Anna. Like a small dog, or a fish bowl. “If I was a dolphin, I would only eat crab, because it just makes more sense. They’re so yummy. Do you think they have fish restaurants? With eel waiters?”

[nalgua]

It is just “woof, woof,” you know?

[dulcifluous-blog]

nalgua:

By the sound of her coughing and hacking it really does not sound like that was on purpose, but to be completely fair, it’s Antonia so like you can’t ever be too sure. Don’t ask how big the fish bowl is.

“You also don’t like fish. They’re so–” poor fucking fish, it’s shook, “aquatic. Otherworldly.”

There’s some kindness in her, Anneliese reaching over to pat Antonia’s back. A small hum follows, her nose wrinkled as the other recovers from her fish based escapades. Anneliese, ever patient, simply watches, fingers skimming over the other woman’s back.

“I hate fish. They’re strange and rather, unnatural.” A shiver. “It’s disturbing, honestly.” 

[nalgua]

“They’re tiny friends,” she cries, literally cries, a tiny tear falling down her face because she’s also drunk because she’s dramatic. Antonia will hug the fish bowl and wibble the rest of her tears away. “I love their fins. And their rainbow scales. And they can’t run away! Except crabs, and eels, but you don’t want eels as friends."