#and sometimes they add something to a look yknow

[taxinealkaloids]

my take on the agnes/gertrude/elias situationship is that gertrude seems like the most normal one to outsiders (she's less prone to arson/creepy mind reading at inopportune moments), but she is still the archivist and therefore kind of eldritch. everyone in the institute has just sort of accepted that yes, the archivist does sleep with her eyes open/is muttering incantations, and it's the least weird thing she's done this week

ok the funny thing is, technically, if by "most normal" we're going off of who is the most human, Gertrude is the normal one. but I don't believe for a second that that's how she's perceived among the rest of the archive staff lmao. like...all her assistants wind up dead, she actively works to make sure her filing system is the least effective one possible, she takes random mysterious vacations and comes back looking like she's just gone ten rounds with a tornado...I absolutely think that Gertrude has the reputation of being the eccentric on staff. I've prepared this diagram to illustrate my point:

[icys-junkyard]

Wait wha-

A Gummigoo frame redraw I started right after watching the premier, based on this screenshot I snagged.

I ignored the glow and flattened/lit the background because I wanted to see more inverted colors.

(Bonus unCained Gummigoo)

[seimei-chsq]

i regret to inform you all that i just did ~30 minutes of basic beginner yoga and it did, in fact, help shut up the hobgoblin that lurks in my brain.

[astranauticus]

im back on my 'never shutting up about animatics i cant make' bullshit but like, orv and changgwi by ahn ye eun anyone

[skitskatdacat63]

Why do I say things like this. Like what was the need. Why do I feel the need to jinx myself. What was the reason.

[anotheraccountonthisapp]

CW: vent in tags (I'm sorry idk Tumblr etiquette yet-)

unfortunately a lot of the corny self help advice turns out to be true but the thing is you have to come to those conclusions yourself otherwise it just sounds dismissive and dumb

[kittykatninja321]

The reason why I always emphasize that utrh era Jason is 18/19 and refuse to let people forget that Jason and Tim are canonically 2 years apart is because the concept of Jason as a fairly young adult with little to no support system is a fascinating concept to me and it goes under explored in both canon and fanon. I think it adds such an interesting wrinkle to the everything and is a great contrast to all the Red Hood shit. I’m thinking about New Earth Jason specifically here, he’s both younger than post-nu52 Jason and more isolated. Most people at 19, even if they can afford to be out on their own in this economy, still have contact with their family of origin for support. Jason is not only estranged from his family with little to no support system (depending on how much you interpret Talia being involved after Lost Days), he’s also doing mob boss shit while he’s still technically young enough to be somebody’s prom date. He didn’t go to his prom because he was probably in Russia learning how to make bombs or something (and because, yknow, the whole dying thing).

Jason is someone who both had to grow up too fast and by all means should be somewhat emotionally stunted. Not only does trauma stunt you he was catatonic for long enough that he’s missing literal years from his adolescence. He’s young enough that he’s still reeling from trauma from childhood and adolescence (late teens/ early twenties are peak ‘desperately trying to recover from childhood’ era).

I think underneath the rough Red Hood exterior that Jason should be naive in ways that people wouldn’t really expect. He doesn’t have much experience with relationships (both romantic and friendships), and it’s been years since he’s socialized much with people his age (he doesn’t socialize much at all he’s pretty isolated). I think even if he doesn’t look young that at times he would slip up and show that he is

Also I just love the contrast. I like the idea that sometimes you’ll hear Red Hood cackle without the helmet on and you’ll recognize traces of that 15 year old kid and then he’ll shoot someone immediately after. Like imagine if utrh was a Boy King of the underworld sorta deal

[imissivan]

so i think in every universe that’s not the present one, ivantill is requited openly and goofy and sometimes still repressed and bad at communicating, but however long it takes, they find each other. but i have to admit. what they’ve gone through — the lack of freedom, happiness, the total lack of human social networks, not even not being raised by humans but the total absence in their lives of humans who connect with humans AS HUMANS — rather than as human pets — it prevents ivan and till AND mizi and sua from forming relationships like we think of them. yknow? mizi and sua are much more open about their regard for each other, because of mizi’s unique character and situation, the level of innocence she’s able to retain. but the rest of them know what’s going on. the pain of that existence stunts what possibilities are available to them. in that environment, they do what they must to survive — which means ivan keeping his feelings under tight control and accepting his fate to yearn and never have; till deeply, deeply repressing whatever he feels for ivan bc mizi represents innocence and a hope for a joyful, free life that has been denied to all of them; sua not connecting with anyone besides mizi, marching to her death without consulting mizi bc it’s all she can think to offer. the circumstances of this universe are such that it’s nearly impossible for healthy or full human relationships to form. for children destined for alien stage — for whom growing old is already a distant dream, much less growing old with someone they love by their side — it’s even less likely. this is also what makes these relationships that DO form despite the circumstances so damn powerful and compelling — the time mizi and sua get to share (mizi crying with frustration when they drift apart when they’re so little) — the stability that ivan and till’s bond provides, even if it is volatile and characterized by miscommunications and misunderstandings. for me, with ivantill, it’s key that it’s NOT totally unrequited — the feelings till has for ivan are confused and unexamined, but like, i don’t blame till for that! he’s got plenty to worry about already, and the circumstances of the garden also exacerbate ivan’s struggles to communicate and understand his feelings properly, too. loving gently and warmly and out in the open like mizi does does not come naturally or at all to ivan in this world! and that adds barriers between ivan and till. but they still care for each other so much — till does look back, there are moments of tenderness, of ivan being different for till than other ppl, of till treating ivan differently, which along w the narrative structure and their relationship paralleling mizi and sua’s and so on, express a deep regard for ivan that goes mostly unexpressed / is made difficult by their situation.

but then!!! you look at the goddamn AUs and shit!!!! and one, look at ivan’s character — outside of the trauma of alien stage, he’s so much more open and soft and loving! to till, specifically — able to get his attention and form a relationship not just based on proximity or thru antagonizing him. that’s very important, in my eyes, to making ivantill work. it’s something ivan can’t do in alien stage, that kind of open expressive love, but if he could, i think it would present him as a viable option for love in till’s eyes (as much as such a thing can exist in that world). like at the bare minimum, till would KNOW — whether ivan confesses or not — that ivan loves him, be more aware or sure of that. ivan can express affection or admiration for till in the open, at times when till’s not asleep or distracted or whatever.

second, till is also different! mizi is not the only source of warmth and happiness in an otherwise bleak and deeply painful, abusive life. without those incredibly challenging circumstances forcing till into survival mode, he has more options for how he can imagine his life, relationships, and express himself. he doesn’t have to put his whole being into loving the one person who expresses warm love as a survival mechanism to keep inspiring himslf to live. instead, he can observe and better understand ivan. and ivan is also less difficult to understand, himself better at expressing himself. with fewer thorny barriers between the two complicating their attitudes towards one another, the two can be friends, best friends, without complication — and thus also more. and i feel like i can’t ever stop thinking about the biggest barrier to their relationship in the alien stage world, the lack of examples of loving human relationships. how do you know what it means to love someone, if you have never seen it? never felt it? i think about this on a queer level, too — took me forever to figure out that i DO feel certain kinds of attraction differently towards different kinds of people, that i do feel it at all, bc at first, i only had 1 narrow example of what romantic or sexual attraction could be. without examples of other possibilities, it never occurred to me that what i was feeling counted. and that’s still with and understanding of any concept of love or romantic relationship!! poor ivan and till are out there fuckin tryna invent human social networks from scratch, RIP

this has been such a long stream of consciousness thinking about these guys so i just want to mention one final thing.

THE GODDAMN ACTOR AU.

they can be platonic OF COURSE. but the depth of emotion and their bond and everything in the other universes — to me, actor AU is the healthiest and easiest and sweetest universe in which the two of them get together. they’re not in each others lives from childhood, and it works in their favor acrually — they’re both fully realized humans, who have lots of chemistry, who deeply admire each others abilities, have similar interests — if we can bring the knowledge of their dynamic and the depth of their bond from the alien stage world to consider what they’d be like together in the actor AU, like 🥹🥹🥺🥺🥺🥺. an open and confident and loving ivan. a mature and expressive and affectionate till. they’re at their best in actor AU, and it’s that AU that really settled my brain into “shipping these two forever and ever” mode. because it can’t happen in their original universe — not without huge changes and a lot of time, like even if they both escaped with their lives, they would need time to heal and grow into their own people before they could really have a health relationship. but in actor AU 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 what they have and can have in actor AU 🥺🥺🥺🥺 gives us a glimpse at what they could be, if they got that time, if they got that chance. what they can be in every other universe, whenever they get that chance. AHHHHH i just love them so freaking much

[whimsical-roasting]

Jamie Tartt and the Five Love Language

THERES SO MUCH I COULD SAYYY and special thanks to @caapsiizzereads for helping me brainstorm some of these!! ugh just wanna love on the babyboy so much yknow??

TELL ME IF THERE'S MORE YOU CAN THINK OFFFFF

Words of Affirmations:

HE HAS A PRAISE KINK. ITS LITERALLYYYYYYY CANNON 

Babyboy is so precious…… he knows how it feels not to get kind words, and so he just can’t help but give them out to you

“Woah, babe…your mind..” in a stunned manner when you go off about something you’re passionate about

“You’re everything to me,” he whispers at night as you fall asleep

Has a shared spotify playlist that you both can collab on, and it’s just songs (lyrics) that remind you of each other!! Jamie plays it when he’s heading to away games in the coach, and it makes him feel a bit calmer 

Giving you ALL the praise and dirty talk during sexy time “you’re so fucking beautiful”, “you make me feel so so good” “holy fuck angel” 

Sometimes just stares at you randomly with a goofy look and you’re like ??? what ??? what is it ?? did he realise i’m ugly or my nose is weird or wHAT !!!???!! and he’s just like, “you look like sunshine”, all smitten and shit

Kisses each feature on your body and says “my favourite” to every. single. one.

“I believe in ya!”

Desperately wants to make sure you guys have a couple’s song - something meaningful that describes how he feels about you that he can play for you both… like Sweet Nothings by Taylor Swift/Hearts Don’t Break Around You by Ed Sheeran/Simple Things by Miguel 

Plays that song after fights when the silences are still tender; when you’re drunk and slow dancing in the kitchen at 3am; when you’re getting dressed for a gala, and he’s fixing his hair, and you’re putting on your earrings

“I adore you, sweetheart”, “you look like a pretty flower”, “me heart fuckin sings seeing ya”

Physical Touch:

Absent-mindedly plays with your hair

Nuzzles face into your neck and then peppers kisses on your shoulder

Massages/scratches your scalp cause he knows how good it feels when you do it for him

Traces patterns on your knee and thighs if you sit next to him

Gotta be holding hands at all times

Pinky promises are sacred… probs locks pinkies and then kisses his thumb to “stamp it” 

Slapping his ass as he walks past you, and so he’s always covering his butt, complaining “babeeee you can’t do thattttt”, but then he’ll be all pouty if one day you don’t slap his ass when he walks past… “do you not love me anymore?”

He will randomly come up to you, wrap your arms around you, getting as close as possible and tuck his face between your shoulder and neck, saying that he’s recharging

Always gotta be touching some part of you.. it’s the only way to live tbh

Gift Giving:

Remember when Jamie was like, “can’t I just buy them all PS5s as a sorry??” “what better thing to spend money on than love?“ LMFAOOOO babyboy :”) he means well

The amount of effort he put into Roy’s gift for Uncle’s Day <3 

Jamie would fucking love getting you fancy, expensive gifts around big occasions (birthdays, holidays etc.) 

BUT I think he’d also love getting you smaller gifts like… Sunday morning flowers, or stocking up on different kinds of herbal tea in his kitchen cause he knows sometimes you’re in the mood for a random cuppa on quiet evenings

Personally, someone like me loves cute tea cups/mugs, so I think buying two mugs to keep in his house cause “they’re so cute, and I wanted them for us” would make him so happy!! He doesn’t even use them all that much, but just seeing them in the cupboard makes him smiley

The kind to want matching outfits or colour-coordinated outfits - most def would buy you both matching sneakers (so would Isaac/most of the team with his S/O)

Gets you a ‘J’ gold chain and wears a gold one with your initial 

If he sees some targeted ad on your insta or something for what you’ve searched up he’s like hmmm,,,,,,i might just,,,*add to cart*

Quality Time:

Wants to spend all his time with you!! Ofc he does!!! 

Is happy to just sit in silence, stroking your calves he watches tiktok with your legs on his lap!! Esp if you’re like reading/doing work on your laptop

He just wants to be there yknow? And he tries not to be annoying but the little puppy can’t help but wanna talk and touch and, ultimately, annoy you

Tries to invite you to all his events? “Can me girlfriend come?” 

Even the ones that aren’t for guests, “babeeee, what do ya mean you won’t come to Colin’s guys' night? I swear they’ll be fine with it…probably!!” “can I come to girl’s night with ya? I’ll let you paint me nails…come on.. Pleaseeee?”

Texts you periodically during the night regardless ahahaha

I like the idea of, “hey I gotta drive somewhere, and it’s gonna take me 30 minutes..can you talk?” whilst one of you is in the car and the other’s at home or, I dunno, has some time during their day 

Date nightssssss every two weeks… OR if the season gets busy and he’s also exhausted from Roy’s trainings then SPECIFIC carved out time to be affectionate and date-y

“I’m so sorry, love, I know we had that reservation tonight, but I came home knackered and just crashed…” “Jaim, it’s okay-” “No, no, it’s not! I’m so fucking dead from training I don’t even get to take ya out anymore! What if- what if you wanted a picnic, huh!” “Baby, it’s okay, really.. How about we set up a picnic on the living room floor and order takeout? Something that Roy’ll let you eat, yea?” “I’m so fucking grateful for ya, angel, I swear” 

He always wants you to watch him score a goal on FIFA cause he’s a child ahahaha… probably teaches you how to play and then pouts when you score as Obisanya 

Wants to try out random hobbies with you - sip and paint cause “I’ll have an excuse to draw outta the lines”; knitting cause “Bumbercatch said it’s soothin, babe”; quick dry clay but he makes a big circular lump at first and grins at you “look babe!! I made a football!” 

Acts of Service:

HIM TEACHING ROY HOW TO RIDE A BIKE 

Makes you coffee once he’s back from his 4am training 

Always offers you his jacket/coat

“I know this was stressing ya, babe, so I took care of it”

“Don’t worry, love, I’ve been practising this dish just for you.. I won’t burn it this time, promise”

Late night cravings???? McDonald’s fries and an Oreo Mcflurry?? He’s already slipping on his jacket and finding his keys (imagine how attentive he’d be with your weird ass pregnancy cravings omg)

ALWAYS opens doors for you... Probably yells “WAIT” when in the car with you just so he can jog out and open your door with a grin 

Always down to carry your purse, puts it on his shoulder like it’s HIS despite having his lil bum bag across his chest

Nightime or morning routine, he probs has to get ready before you so he lays out your skincare for you. Probs adds toothpaste on your brush if he hears you getting ready to enter the bathroom

Probably the main one driving everywhere, but if you drive and need to fill up your tank, he’ll be the one to get out and fill it then pay,,, he’s almost offended that you say you’re capable of doing so yourself, “babe, what am I here for?!”

Tries to eat in accordance with your dietary requirements (e.g. I’m vegetarian) if you guys have date night - or he’ll always have like mouthwash and gum so he can kiss ya later without making you feel uncomfortable!!

“Ooh babe, they have the ravioli ya like and the vodka gnocchi!! Okay, you order the ravioli, and I’ll get the gnocchi and we’ll split, yea?” “Hey Jaim, can we order fries too?” “Fuck yea!”

[spiral-lemur]

OK THE ANNUAL’S OUT AND I JUST NEED TO BABBLE ABOUT STUFF SOOO SPOILERS AHEAD READ AT UR OWN RISK ETC ETC ETC

OK STORY NUMBER 1.

Ok wow. No it’s fine really. Go ahead. Go ahead and BREAK MY FUCKING HEART right off the bat. They don’t even know later in they’re subconsciously Still following the path Starline mapped out for them by still aiming to replace Sonic and Tails. Like yeah this time Eggman is on the chopping block for real which would make Starline lose his gay little mind but GODDDDDDD

Also it’s really funny that the general perception is that Kit is the more mellow of the two. Appearance wise? Yeah. Mannerisms? For the most part yeah. But deep down this little guy is FUCKED UP.

Like every so often the comic just reminds you “see this cute little guy? he can and will drown you for nothing more than surge’s happiness if he sees fit.” Lil dude does NOT care. Genuinely curious as to how this plotline will develop later on since Kit is clearly misguided. Yes he wants to help Surge and she’ll be happy for a while with this arrangement…as long as she doesn’t find out. What happens when she finds out though? I doubt she’ll be very happy to know all her “accomplishments” were part of a carefully constructed narrative set up by the very person who was meant to support her. I’m just RRRRRRRRGGHRGGHHHRTHHHHHH about them yknow? Also I think it’s interesting that this is set sometime after issue 75; very curious about what “he had to drag them out of there” means for the safety of Restoration HQ and I’m even more curious about where Surge and Kit are right now. Are they still there? Bunking somewhere else? What happened with them and their ties to Clutch and Mimic? Lots of questions to wait and find out. Very excited to see how this goes.

Now for the Knuckles story; admittedly this one isn’t spinning around my brain as much because of the other two stories, but it’s still a lovely read. It serves as some insight for Knuckles’ thoughts about his current life and relationships with his friends and it brings a good ol’ smile to my face.

The art FUCKS as usual when ABT is involved. Like this page? This page right here. Gorgeous. Would be a very fun redraw I think. And I feel it says a lot about how Knuckles feels about these characters without having to say anything which is nice. Rouge, for all the trouble she gives him, also gives him an outlet to blow off some steam and a reason to keep up with his training(aside from Eggman of course), and she obviously wouldn’t be there if he didn’t respect her to some degree. Sonic is someone Knuckles views as a worthy rival, but he’s also a treasured friend alongside Amy and Tails. They may clash, but he knows that at the end of the day they’ve got his back, and he’s got their’s. The Chaotix are a little trickier to pinpoint, but they’re here for a reason. I believe they add a dash of excitement and companionship to his life. They might be a bunch of clowns, but they’re HIS clowns and he cares about them just as much as everyone else here. He knows he can depend on them when it comes down to it, which is what I believe the Master Emerald was trying to get at here.

Also Sonknux enjoyers got a little snack here. A little treat even. But it’s nice to see that just like these guys are still on Knuckles’ mind, he never left THEIR minds either. It’s nice to see that they aren’t just trying to get his help for something and just giving him a friendly visit because 1.) We get to see Knuckles and 2.) The dude could use a day where they don’t bring trouble to his doorstep LOL

Also what the FUCK happened to the Tornado guys I JUST said you weren’t bringing trouble to his doorstep you better keep it that way—

And then it ends with the gang catching Knux up to speed on their latest shenanigans. Like I mentioned earlier I think this story serves as a look into how Knuckles views his current situation, and it’s very heartwarming in my opinion. I think this sequence really sums up the big takeaway from this story:

sorry the quality is ass it’s hard to do these things on a phone

There was a moment where I thought that bright light echidna was Tikal, and I’m a little disappointed it wasn’t. It’s still nice but if it’d been her, you’d best believe I’d have a lot more screamy words about it. It’s not a bad story at all though, and if you’re a Knuckles fan who loves digging into his deeper thoughts I think this story is a good read for you. Also YIPPIEE KNUCKLES CONFIRMED FOR ISSUE 80!!!

Now for the story that I(and I’m sure many others are) am currently foaming at the mouth the most over. It’s no surprise at all that a look into Mimic’s backstory would be something I eat the fuck up as a massive fan of Tangle, Whisper, and everything relating to them. But holy WOW this story had everything I could’ve wanted and I will be using this as fuel for my Diamond Cutter Autism™️

Okay, starting off with him being an actor before joining the Diamond Cutters. This may not seem as relevant to people compared to literally everything else in this story BUT you guys. You guys. When I tell you I lost my shit. Why? BECAUSE I FUCKING CALLED THAT SHIT.

This excerpt is from a (now scrapped) fic where I tried tackling a possible redemption arc for Mimic. We hadn’t had any backstory for Mimic so I’d tried making one up that tied into his shapeshifting. I ended up scrapping the whole thing because Mimic kept getting worse/more irredeemable as a character and I didn’t feel like trying to keep it going; and I feel the need to bring up that Tangle and Whisper would’ve never fully trusted or forgiven him(like. at all), he just would’ve gotten over trying to kill them by the end. I swear I wasn’t aiming for a “you did this horrible shit but it’s ok you feel bad about it so we’re buddies now :3” type deal. Anyway, that useless bit of info aside, I wrote this thing back in 2022. It’s not EXACTLY the same way obviously, but seeing this after having written him as a former actor made me actually stop and gape for a second before scrambling to find that old draft. I guess I could just SMELL the washed up actor on him. And yeah maybe it was the most plausible thing, but I’ve been given an inch and just this once I’m going to run this mile in circles.

After the whole acting thing, the war started, Mimic wanted to show off, left some other teams for dead, etc etc and then he met THEM.

This…houghhhhhhhhh

Do you think Whisper ever thinks back to this day? Do you think it’s ever crossed her mind that if she’d never invited him, her friends might still be alive? Do you think this thought eats her alive on bad nights? Whisper honey I am so fucking sorry. It’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known how fucking shitty this guy really was. You didn’t deserve that.

FUCK!!!

Ahem. It’s really bittersweet looking into how these guys acted not just as a team, but as friends. We got a better look as to how these guys were personality-wise and it just stings knowing that this little found family is no longer here because one of them just couldn’t handle vulnerability. Smithy was like an older brother—wise, but just as goofy and playful as the rest of them, and just as ready to tease his little twerps. Claire was like an older sister; similar to Smithy, always looking out for the others, but just as ready to make fun of them. She was probably the straightman in a lot of their antics, but with that loving “oh, you” sense to it. Slinger was the goofy, cocky younger brother. Ready to go for the biggest thing he could find, and usually needing to be saved from his own ambition. He’d make up for that trouble by bringing in a lifetime supply of laughs for all of them. And Whisper…honestly I’d go as far as saying Whisper back then was just like Tangle is now. Optimistic, eager, bubbly. I wonder if that might be why she gravitated towards Tangle rather than the other characters she was friendly with; even before their miniseries. I’d show more images for this part but apparently I can only use 10 images on a phone and my computer still isn’t up so that’s just SWELL. For the last image I’ve got, I’ll just use this:

It just stings so HARD when you really think about what was taken from her. We might have gotten the Whisper we know and love because of it, sure. She may not have met any of the people she holds dear now if it hadn’t gone the way it did. But the fact that she had this little family, the fact she loved them so dearly, the fact she’d put so much trust into them—only to have it ripped away in one selfish decision? That’ll hurt forever. That’ll haunt her for the rest of life; it’ll haunt me too. God the Diamond Cutters sting so good.

Now let’s get Mimic’s little monologue in here. Ahem.

“I got what I wanted. Did I just crave validation? Was it ever about the spotlight? I can’t be myself around them. They don’t know what I’ve done…friendship is supposed to feel good. Solid. Like a foundation…so why does it hurt so much? They don’t see I’m a walking contradiction. One look p-past my facade and I’ll be thrown away! I can’t afford to be so fragile. I look back at my acting days with a soul-wrenching truth staring back at me. The more things change, the more they stay the same. It’s a rehearsed charade! They are all mirrors, saying what I want to hear until they get what they want. They can’t be trusted. I refuse to play this game anymore.

The moment an opportunity to be rid of these nuisances came, I readily took it. The Diamond Cutters would be gone from this world and mine. I could clear my mind and never feel such visceral pain from their fake smiles. Attachment was erased, like weeds pulled from a garden, as they perished. The pain inside nearly vanished, a good sign for my healing journey. Yet…there was a single, terribly annoying headache left to deal with. I can’t fix what that team did to me until I shatter every last one. Only with this knife, will I finally be cleansed.

I can’t think straight tonight. What is the point of reflecting on all these memories? Am I afraid? Or am I just…tired? Soon, that pain deep within myself will be washed away. And this can all be a bad, bad dream. I’m selfish, arrogant, and colder than a frozen lake. I enjoy the chase, watching others struggle, and I love that about me! I know what I am, so…who are you?”

Man…a LOT to unpack here.

Mimic is a coward. There’s certainly vitriol to my words, but it’s also just a fact based on the evidence we’ve seen. He’d been burned so many times chasing the spotlight in the past, he’d grown to view it as conditional. No one ever truly valued his contributions in his eyes. He was just another part of an act, and when that act was over, no one would need each other anymore—so whenever he felt done with putting on the “show” of contributing to a new team during the war, he quickly cut ties. Some ways more permanent than others—we’ll never know for certain if he got those people killed like the Diamond Cutters, but he certainly didn’t care if he did. The show was over. It didn’t matter.

Then the Diamond Cutters came along. The show was going well, it was a broadway smash! Then the actor’s nemesis began to creep in; imposter syndrome. Mimic knew deep down, he didn’t deserve this success. How many people did he really cut down as he chased the spotlight? How many people had seen his previous work? How long until that all came back to bite him? He didn’t know. It terrified him deep down, judging from the moments of hesitation he’d shown in his monologue. Surely it began to gnaw at him more and more towards the end. He can’t trust them, his smiles were fake so they all had to be faking too, right? There was no way there was such a thing as genuine friendship, teamwork, or any of the like. If it didn’t exist in his world, it couldn’t have existed at all. It began to be kill or be killed; and Mimic intended to be the one doing the killing. So he cut them down too.

But Whisper survived. Whisper was a present reminder of the horrible, selfish things he’d done. As long as she’s around, he can never fully ignore what he’s left behind. He can never truly run away from all of it. So he has his sights set on her; killing her will surely solve all the pain within himself. It has to. It has to.

And he still hesitates. Maybe it’s the way suppressed guilt is manifesting itself, maybe it’s being overly cautious, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. Perhaps once there was a time he could’ve gone back on everything and reinvented himself, but it’s gone now. And he’ll run away from that possibility for the rest of his life. He just has to get rid of that last poster before he can move on to his next big show.

Or I could easily be reading way too much into it but who cares I’m having fun this way! Really enjoyed this story—easily my favorite of the three if you couldn’t tell from all that word vomit. This annual might just be my favorite of them all so far, and I’m excited to see how these characters continue to develop as the comic runs on. That’s just about everything I can think of to say, so that ends my babbling. Thanks to everyone who read this far! I don’t normally get so wordy but this annual really just activated something in me.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hallo!!

may i ask for a little spronkle of fluff? Donna goes out to town to buy fabrics, the neewww (oh, wow!) cleric selling it to her, Reader, has almost the exact same scar on their face (except for it not being unnaturally deformed, -- reader got it from like, an encounter with a rabid animal, or something),

Donna gets curious and asks about it, leading to a casual conversation, which led to Donna wanting to come back and chat with the new hire, seeing as how, unbeknownst to Reader (because, obviously, Donna wears the veil, Reader wouldnt know she had the same mutation) they had something in common, their scarring

Make it so that Reader (very slowly) catches on ?? And they develop feelings overtime ?? But, doesnt know if 'big-lady-Donna' feels the same way, so they just.. shaddap? (i had to use that 'big-lady' reference, or it wouldve haunted me, forgive, forget)

Reader asks to see Donnas face (although, very nervously, because of, yknow, Angie staring down Readers soul, aswell as Donnas rank/title), Donna complies, although hesitantly, and Reader is just so entranced by how similar the size/placement/colour of their scarring is, that theyre just so hyped, and cant help to call Donna beautiful, to call her newly-revealed, singular eye 'enchanting' and whatnot (make Reader a nervous sap, i beg and i plead, i need this prompt to rot my teeth),

Donna gets fed up from how clueless Reader is to how much Donna appreciates them -- leading to, very reluctant, and/or peeved (take that as you will, im unsure how to topic Donnas nerves, tremors, mood-swings and whatnot) confession, coming from Donnas side. (Meaning: Donna confesses first, very awkwardly, and shyly, and Reader obviously accepts, because, .. They're girlfriends, your honor!)

Angie, meanwhile, is hurling in the background because of how cheesy, and forced, Donnas confession was, (although, secretely, Angie is over the moon that her Donsie made a new (girl)friend). Maybe add a little bit of like, restless, over-thinking rambling in Italian to that mix. (Ex: Donna just going over about how cool it is that they have matching scars, maybe Reader could come over to her estate and see her portrait without it. *Mumble mumble, something nervy in italian*, do you wanna come over? Do you wanna see my workshop? Do you wanna see my dolls? I can have one resemble you. Do you sew? We can make dolls -- *Mumble, trips over words, Italian*)

Make it from Donnas prospective, Please and thanks!!

No smut, just wholesome wholesomeness, and ofcourse, happy, diabetes-inducing ending, where Reader does agree to come and hang out with her -- make them Girlfriends with your writers-magic from that point on, because i have no idea what else to add to explain how overtime THEY FALL INLOVESIES!!! (AGHH! SUCH ROMANCE! THEYRE SO INLOVE!!!)

No mention of G!P or just, like, any arousal in general (since ive seen it mentioned on other posts, by other people, when asked for no smut, i just wanted to clarify)

hope i explained this okay?? Sometimes im pretty vague/too specific while typing and add too many '()'s and '/'s (overthinking autism brain -- HEY! LOOK! I JUST DID IT AGAIN!)

wish ya the best of luck, aswell as the best of day, may Angie bite your fingers (not really.. aha.. joking! Or am i?), Ciao, Blusy!

Yesss!!! Wow, it was a curious request! Thank you!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

Two broken faces

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings:¡ fluff, Donna being Donna, Donna's POV

Word count: 9,376

Summary: She's so simliar, but so different...

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

I thought I had everything I needed.

I had my dolls, my books, the peace that solitude offers a woman like me… Always afraid of people, always hiding, I found in my isolated world a peaceful place to live, for all eternity.

I didn't ask for this, I never asked the Black Gods to have mercy on my soul, I didn't ask Mother Miranda to adopt me, I never asked anyone for that second chance, I just wanted to die.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if my family hadn't been noble, if my ancestors hadn't been part of the founding of this village. Maybe I would have had the chance to live in a different way or maybe my wish to disappear would have simply been fulfilled.

Donna Beneviento, a young woman who stopped fighting. Yes, surely they would put something similar on my grave. I would have become a legend, that woman who lost everything, who was cursed with an illness, who was condemned to watch how little by little, the world around me faded away behind that horrible waterfall.

But… After all, after that mercy that I didn't ask for, the result wasn't very different. To think that I was no longer alone would be to deceive myself. Angie was already speaking before I insisted on giving her life with my new gifts. Angie was me, I was Angie.

Maybe she's still me, even if I don't realize it, maybe I’m not even a Lord, maybe I wasn't even alive anymore. It was hard to know. That position of power that the Gods granted me only served to make my horrible thoughts to take shape, to find in cruelty a way to relieve the pain of my soul, the rage I felt at having been unjustly deprived of a normal life.

Josef was the first, but not the last.

What was the fault of the man who took care of me after the death of my family? None. Why did I do it? Because I could.

I try to look in the mirror and not see that reflection, the reflection of my horrible appearance, of that punishment for the sins I didn’t commit, but I only see a monster, a monster on the outside, a monster on the inside.

Surely that was what Miranda expected of me: another terrifying being to keep the flock under control. I cannot deny that she succeeded. I myself became the fear, the terror.

That legend that I thought I would become by ending my life became a dark tale, a nightmare story, the story of the terrible doll maker, Donna Beneviento.

I could not say when she stopped mattering to me, I cannot even say that one day she stopped. Loneliness was my fear, until it became my refuge. You did not love me before, when I was just a girl with a scar, now that I am a monster your punishment would be to fear me.

None of that matters, not even my brothers, nor this cursed village. I only care about Angie, my dolls, those that do not judge, that do not laugh at me, that do not fear me, that do not feel anything. The flesh deceives, lies, harms, porcelain does not. Porcelain is malleable, it looks the way I want, it is beautiful, soft and does not hate me.

I wish I could have been a doll, I wish I could free myself from the hatred that was inside me…

“Grigio,” I said in a whisper, while I was devoting my soul to making my dolls, to creating those emotionless beings that I envied.

Angie nodded, walking around the work table, looking for the fabric I asked for.

“Grey again, Donna?” the doll asked, in a mocking tone. I nodded without looking at her, finishing correcting the imperfections of that new companion.

“What's your problem with grey?” I asked, cleaning the smooth porcelain, with my gaze fixed on it, trying not to let Angie distract me, as she usually did.

“It's boring,” the doll said, handing me a too small piece of fabric, making me frown.

“It's not enough, I need much more,” I said focused, shaking my head. The doll shrugged, walking over to her new friend.

“There is no more grey fabric,” Angie mocked, hands on her hips.

I sighed, snapping out of my concentration, searching through the drawers. I would never trust Angie, I would never trust myself.

“There isn’t?” I asked confused, searching the workshop for the desired fabric. The doll growled angrily at my distrust, crossing her arms.

“I already told you, silly Donna,” she mocked, getting down from the table. I sighed, rubbing my eye. I had been in the workshop for hours, I couldn’t say how many.

“Angie…” I sighed tiredly, shaking my head and finally abandoning my dolls, walking through the dark basement hallway, through that comforting darkness. “I'm not in the mood for your nonsense.”

“Are you ever in the mood?” the puppet asked, with a mocking tone.

I didn't answer. I simply walked towards the phone, looking in a address book for the number of the village merchant, the Duke.

“Oh, oh, oh, ask the fat guy if he has yellow wool balls,” Angie said, tugging at my dress.

 I looked at her, unable to help but smile. Who it was didn't matter, my position as a Lord didn't matter, I was sure that, without Angie, I would have given up a long time ago.

“What do you want yellow wool balls for?” I asked amused, picking up the phone and dialing the number slowly, indicating to Angie that she should let herself be picked up. I still needed her to speak for me.

“I don't know, they're funny,” she commented, taking the phone while I lovingly put her old clothes on. “Hello, hello? Fatty?”

Nothing, no one seemed to answer.

“He doesn't pick up,” Angie whispered so I frowned, snatching the phone from her and checking she was telling the truth.

“Maybe he's not in the village,” I sighed, hanging up and shaking my head. “How convenient, I need that damn fabric.”

“He might be in his warehouse,” Angie commented, going back down to the floor. “Although I doubt he will fit through the door,” she mocked amused, making me smile again.

“What do we do now?” I asked, looking at the crumbling ceiling.

“Why don't we go to the village?” Angie suggested. “We can look for the Duke there.”

“No,” I said dryly, hardening my expression.

“Silly Donna... I want my wool balls!” the doll protested, in a childish way, irritating me again. “Let's go to the village, to the village!”

“Madonna… I said no, Angie,” I snorted, in a brusque tone.

No, I didn't want to go to the village, I didn't want to see anyone, I didn't want to see fear in people's eyes, I didn't want to see it again.

“Silly, you stupid pasta thing,” the doll hissed. “Stupid Donna”

“Are you done yet?” I asked with irony, with a dangerous look. As expected, the doll shook her head.

“Donna, you coward, I want my wool balls!” she shrieked irritatingly again, making me lose my patience.

“Chuidi quella cazzo di bocca!” I shouted furiously, completely out of my mind, causing the puppet to flee in terror, hiding behind a table.

Once again, I had lost control for no reason. I would never be able to escape my sentence.

I tried to relax, to make the trembling in my body disappear. I breathed deeply, lowering my head.

“Perdonami, Angie…” I sighed in a calmer tone, walking slowly to the doll's hiding place. She, timidly, peeked out. “I shouldn't have yelled at you.”

“You're very tense,” the doll whispered. “You have to relax...”

“I know, forgive me, please,” I said with my voice broken by the rage of my behavior, extending my arms towards her, who timidly approached, letting me pick her up from the floor.

 “Of course I forgive you, silly,” the doll said, hugging me in a childish way, bringing the smile back to my face.

“Fine… W-we'll go to the village to get the fabrics, what do you think?” I finally said, trying to compensate my only friend for having to put up with me day after day, for having to live… With a monster.

“Yay!” the puppet celebrated as I carried her in my arms, leaving the comfort of that dark basement.

I never liked going out, feeling the cold on my body, feeling insecure, outside the safety of the cracked walls. Maybe no one had the misfortune of seeing my face, but my mere presence was already uncomfortable enough for anyone.

Just think about it, a woman in black clothes, with her face hidden by a black veil, a lifeless figure which comes walking slowly towards you. It was terrifying.

Luckily, there didn't seem to be many people in the village, it was a cold morning. I also didn't want to notice if there were eyes watching me, if there was a child trembling in its mother's arms when it saw me walking.

The Duke's warehouse wasn't far away, and I headed there as quickly as possible. My breathing was uncontrolled, my anxieties were already starting to make me too nervous. I wanted to go home.

“Duuuuke!” Angie called when we entered the cabin. “Duuuuke! Where are you?”

There didn't seem to be anyone there and we both looked at each other, shrugging our shoulders. Not wanting to wait for that vermin to appear, I approached the place where he kept the fabrics, looking for that desired grey tone my doll needed.

“What do you think, Angie?” I asked the puppet, who was curiously rummaging through the merchant's things, nodding disinterestedly. “Where are the grey ones...?”

“Hello,” an unknown voice startled me, a female voice that was not familiar to me.

From among the boxes, a girl appeared, a young girl with a splendid smile. I didn’t recognize her, I would remember that face. Near her left eye there was a horrible scar. I couldn’t help but bring my hand to my face when I found a similarity between that deformity and mine.

The girl shook her hands, with an elegant gesture, without that smile disappearing.

“Lady Beneviento,” she said softly, lowering her head. “Surely the Duke would spend the whole morning flattering your presence but I believe in naturalness, do you need something?”

“Where is the fatty? Who are you?” Angie asked, letting me pick her up again while pointing at that unknown girl.

“Oh, the Duke is on a business trip, or so he told me,” she said, amused, shaking her head. “But I'm sure I can help you, or try, at least.”

I looked at her curiously, unable to take my eyes off her scar, one that didn’t hide her beauty at all. I couldn't say why, but my cheeks began to blush.

I didn't say anything. I just looked at her confused, just like the doll did with me, waiting for me to react.

“Oh, sorry, I haven't introduced myself,” the girl said with an apologetic look, extending her hand towards me, a hand that seemed very soft… “I'm (Y/N), the Duke hired me to be his assistant when he wasn't around. I manage the warehouse too.”

I hesitated for a moment. My instincts pushed me to reject that greeting, to ignore that smiling young woman, but, for some reason, I didn't. I slowly extended my hand towards hers, shaking it briefly, feeling for myself that I wasn't wrong, her skin was very soft, warm.

“It’s, it's a pleasure to meet you too,” she joked, confused by my shy greeting, with a natural, beautiful smile... “I never thought I'd have the honor of having one of you here.”

“Shut up, you stupid village girl! We've come for...” Angie said, interrupted by a sudden movement of my arms, letting her fall to the floor. “Hey!”

“I ne-ne-need fabrics,” I whispered with a hoarse, timid, barely audible voice. The girl frowned, coming a little closer to me.

“Excuse me, but I didn't hear you,” she said amused but with a kind look.

“Fabrics, stupid! Fabrics!” Angie shrieked, startling the young woman, who, surprisingly, kept her composure masterfully.

“Oh, fabrics, of course,” (Y/N) said, nodding and passing by me, letting me get a closer look at that scar so similar to mine, one that had me quite interested. “If you would be so kind as to come with me…”

I nodded slowly, following the young assistant through the warehouse.

“Are you looking for something in particular?” she asked naturally, rummaging through a pile of fabrics.

“G-Grey fabric…” I murmured, clearing my throat, with Angie looking at me strangely. I couldn't blame her for it, I was very nervous.

“Grey…” (Y/N) commented, searching with her eyes. “Oh, yes, here,” she said amused, pointing at several fabrics of that same color.

“Wool balls, we want wool balls,” Angie said with a haughty tone while I touched those fabrics with curiosity, unable to avoid looking at that girl out of the corner of my eye.

“Wool balls?” she asked confused, scratching her head. “Mm, yes, this way,” she said, gesturing for the puppet to follow her.

I paused for a moment to look at her again, my heart beating fast and my eye unable to stop studying each of her movements. She was a really beautiful young woman, who surely hid some terrible story, maybe one as horrible as mine, maybe… Oh, I didn’t know why I was thinking about it.

“Do you see anything you like?” she asked me when finished attending to Angie, getting closer to me, maybe too close, allowing me to look at her more closely again.

“Um, yes… I…” I stammered nervously, clearing my throat again and pointing at a random roll of fabric. Luckily, it was a grey one.

“This one? Good…” the young woman commented, taking the roll and heading to a small counter. “How much do you want?”

“No, I… I’ll take the entire roll,” I said, nodding, putting my hands together in front of my body, playing with them discreetly to try to stop shaking.

“The entire roll?” (Y/N) asked, frowning. The Duke never questioned me, why did she?

“Is there a problem, silly?” Angie asked mockingly, comically wrapped in a wool ball.

“No, there’s no problem but… I don’t know if you can handle it, it’s quite heavy,” the girl said amused, leaning on the counter and looking at that large roll of fabric. “I mean, I’m not saying you can’t… I mean, I…”

I laughed at that shy side, that nervous side my presence provoked in her. Normally I would have groaned or sighed at the sight of her body trembling, but on that occasion, I didn't. Even when she was nervous, she couldn't lose that bright smile.

“Calm down, I know what you mean,” I said in a different tone, louder and noticeable, as if my own voice was eager to talk to her.

“Uff, okay...” she sighed, running a hand over her forehead in a playful way. “Sorry, my lady, I'm not used to dealing with... Lords, you know.”

I laughed again, shaking my head. I could feel Angie's eyes looking at me inquisitively, but I didn't pay attention to them. Not wanting to look stupid, I took out a bag of coins, leaving them on the counter. (Y/N) picked them up, writing something down in a notebook.

“Fine...” the girl murmured, leaving the pen on top of the notebook. “Do you need anything else, my lady?” she asked kindly.

I shook my head, turning to leave, picking up my doll again, who was still staring at me.

“No, thank you,” I muttered before walking out the door. Something, something made me stop and turn around. “Uh, actually, I do.”

“Mm?” (Y/N) hummed, with that same kind smile, following me with her gaze as I approached the counter again.

“I don't remember seeing you before,” I said with a dry voice, with an indifferent tone. I didn't want to show her how nervous I was, besides, I didn't even know why I was that nervous.

“I'm elusive,” she answered amused, leaning on the counter in a casual manner. “But the truth is that I've been here all my life.”

“Working for the fat guy?” Angie asked, with a curious tone, shifting in my arms.

“No, no,” (Y/N) said, shaking her head, laughing amused. “I mean, I've been in the village all my life.”

“Really? It's funny, you don't sound familiar to me,” I commented, with a slightly dark tone, analyzing her expressions. The girl shrugged, as if it wasn't the most comfortable question for her.

“Well... I'm not very fond of masses...” she murmured in a cautious tone. “Don't get me wrong, I adore Mother Miranda, and you, and of course I pray to the Black Gods every day and...”

“Mmm…” Angie got out of my arms, walking along the counter until she was very close to her. “She's lying.”

“What? Oh, no, no, I’m not,” the assistant said, now a little more scared. “No, my lady, no, I'm not lying.”

“I don't care if you are, (Y/N),” I commented, moving the doll away from her, laughing shyly again. “I'm not judging you.”

“Oh, okay…” the girl sighed, with an exaggerated gesture of relief. “Well, to be honest, I've never had a particular interest in… All that stuff about the Gods.”

I nodded nervously, wanting to ask a thousand questions, without knowing why, without knowing what exactly was keeping me in that warehouse.

“But, but I go to masses,” she said with a more relaxed tone, pretending sincerity. “Um… Um…Do you want… Do you want something else?”

“No,” I answered abruptly, turning around again and walking towards the door.

When I arrived, I realized that my legs weren't moving, that my head wanted to turn towards that girl again. My behavior was strange, but I couldn't help it.

“Yes,” I said, entering again, causing her to laugh amusedly and look at me in amazement, probably because of my pathetic attitude. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Lycans,” she answered, relaxing her expression. I frowned and shook my head, confused.

“Cosa?”

“My scar, I know you were going to ask me about it,” she said with a relaxed tone, pretending to read the notes in that account book.

“No, I…” I stammered, embarrassed to know that it was really what I wanted to know, what had caught my attention.

“Don’t worry, my lady, nothing is wrong. I’m not ashamed of it,” she said with a sincere look, one that made me see that her left eye had a slightly whiter tone, as if it had no life.

That was how I was like when I was a child, when everyone laughed at me.

“What…? What happened to you?” I asked in a cautious, strangely curious tone.

“When I was 10 I made the stupid mistake of going into the forest at dusk, you know, I wanted to be the bravest girl and blah blah blah…” (Y/N) commented casually, gesturing with her hands. I nodded for her to continue. “How was I supposed to know that there were lycans in the woods? It seems unlikely in a place like this, right? Um, sorry, it was, it was a joke.”

“Uh-huh,” I whispered, frowning. “A joke?”

“Yeah, well… I've learned that, in order to be happy, you must learn to laugh at yourself,” (Y/N) explained, with a smile adorning her beauty again.

“Do you find that some lycans hurt you funny? You could have died,” I said annoyed by that attitude. No, that wasn't funny, it couldn't be.

“I know, but… Here I’m,” she said sighing, spreading her arms in a playful way. “I lost the vision of my left eye, but… I'm still alive, and that's the important thing.”

“You seem like a very optimistic girl,” I commented, with an amused laugh, inadvertently getting a little closer to her.

“Mm, well, it can't be any other way,” the girl said in a relaxed tone, tilting her head.

“It must have… It must have been… difficult for you, you know…” I said stuttering, raising my hand to discreetly point out the deformity of her face. “Children can be very cruel.”

“Oh, not at all,” she said with a wider smile, shaking her head. “There hasn't been anyone brave enough to mess with me.”

I laughed again, incredulous at that attitude, one so different from mine. So similar and so different at the same time… Like the two sides of the same coin.

“Why you say so?” I asked curiously, with Angie starting to get impatient, tugging at my dress probably wanting to go back home.

“Because if they did… Well, they were very likely to go home with a black eye,” she whispered in a lower voice, as if she wanted to tell me a secret. “You know what they say: an eye for an eye, right?”

She was a mysterious girl, one who, with every thing she said, brought a soft laugh to my lips. It had been a long time since I laughed so many times, that the smile refused to leave my face.

“Um, I…” I murmured after a moment of awkward silence, holding Angie's hands, which pulled at my dress harder and harder. “I'll leave you alone, I've already stolen too much of your time.”

“You can steal all the time you want, my lady, as you see, there's no one around here,” the merchant said amused, looking around.

“Um, yes, well, I… I'm, I'm leaving, th-thanks,” I stammered, closing my eye because of my pathetic stammering, ready this time to really leave, to control my desire to stay and chat with that girl.

“Wait,” she said, leaving me pinned to the ground, walking out the counter. “Wait, I…”

“Mm?”

“Um, hey, you're not as scary as they say,” (Y/N) said nervously, biting her lip to contain her words, words that, apparently, came out of her mouth on their own. “I mean, I, I liked meeting you, Lady Beneviento.”

“Oh, I…” I stammered, struggling between joy and anger. I couldn't blame her for fearing me, everyone did and everyone would, forever. “Me… Me too, (Y/N)…”

It could have been just another day, but it wasn't. Meeting (Y/N) made me start to smile. It didn't matter what I was doing: cooking, reading, working with my dolls... The beauty of her face was always present in my thoughts.

Chance is a capricious God, one that made me suddenly find myself with my distorted reflection. Yes, a scar identical to the one I had as a child, a face deformed by misfortune, just like me.

But, even though we had that in common, we were very different. (Y/N) was cheerful, outgoing and didn't let anyone make fun of her. I was the opposite, like an evil double, like the negative of a photograph. It might seem silly, but, as the days went by, that urge to want to go back to the warehouse became more and more intense.

Sewing in my workshop, as always, I searched in my head for a logical explanation for my sudden interest in that young woman, like every time I did, without finding an answer.

“Angie,” I said, frowning, looking at the old sewing machine. The doll, having fun with her new wool balls, walked towards me comically getting tangled in the yellow thread.

“I hope it's not something to do with the girl from the warehouse,” the puppet hissed. Poor thing, she was sick of hearing me talk about her.

“No, no,” I said with a look that gave away my lie. “Look,” I helped the doll to get on my lap while pointing at the old machine.

“What's wrong?” she asked, looking at the machine and then at me, confused.

“Don't you see it?” I asked with a frown, picking up a piece of freshly sewn fabric. “Look at these seams, they're not right.”

“They’re just like always,” the doll commented, playing with the piece of fabric in her hands.

“No, no, not at all,” I said, shaking my head again, blinking, giving away my lie. “There's something wrong with the machine.”

“Do you know what's wrong? Your brain,” the doll mocked, causing me to grunt. “There's nothing wrong with the machine, Donna.”

“I'm telling you, it's broken,” I insisted, pretending to look for the fault that old machine didn't have. “I think there's something stuck… I should take it to (Y/N). Maybe she can take a look at it.”

“Oh, of course, of course…” the doll sighed, moving her arms in an exaggerated way. “You just want to see her again.”

“No, I… Non è vero…” I muttered, stumbling over my words. “It's, it's the machine…”

“There's nothing wrong with the machine, silly Donna, stop making stupid excuses. If you want to see (Y/N), why don't you just go?” Angie said, putting a wooden finger on my nose, which I wrinkled in displeasure, determined to deny the evidence.

“It’s not about that, Angie,” I protested, pounding my fists on the table but relaxing instantly. “I want her to take a look at it.”

“A look?” the doll scolded me. “Oh, yes, what a great idea… What are you going to tell her when she realizes that the machine is perfectly fine?”

I tried to fight back, but I couldn’t. I huffed angrily, gritting my teeth. Angie was right. My legs trembled nervously as my gaze wandered to the old machine. I didn’t even think about it.

With a quick gesture, I pushed the sewing machine to the floor, crashing against it with a dull sound, indicating that something had broken. It was a pathetic, almost desperate plan. I still didn’t know what I was doing, why I was doing it, or rather, I didn’t want to know.

“Silly Donna! Nonna’s machine!” Angie shrieked, getting down to the floor to check the condition of the machine. I remained serious, but I adopted a haughty pose.

“What do you say now? Diamo un’occhiata?” I asked mockingly, bending down to pick up the broken machine from the floor, ignoring the insults and protests of the doll.

It was too easy for me to put the veil back on and leave my house. I had a fixed destination. I had her beauty waiting for me. I think I was starting to get too nervous. Breaking my grandmother’s machine so I could see that girl… It sounded crazy, but I didn’t want to think about it.

“Oh, my lady, what a surprise,” (Y/N) said, coming down a ladder, with a, as always, beautiful smile. “The Duke has already returned from his trip, he should have brought you the fabrics.”

“Yes, I…” I murmured nervously, holding the box under Angie’s fierce gaze. “I wanted, I wanted to see you.”

“Me?” the girl asked, approaching curiously, brushing the dust off her dress.

I could only nod, leaving the box on the counter.

“I thought you could help me with this,” I muttered, with a broken voice, much more nervous than in our first meeting.

“Wow…” the young woman commented, taking the broken machine out of the box, observing every detail. “A Singer 66k, from 1917… What happened to it? It's in pieces…”

“Angie threw it,” I lied cowardly, earning a furious gasp from the doll.

“What are you talking about?!” the doll shrieked unpleasantly. “Liar, Donna liar, Donna…!”

I silenced the puppet with a subtle movement of my hands, making it stop screaming and move away, unable to stop it from glaring at me as it did so.

“Oh, that was a nasty fall…” (Y/N) joked, studying the machine. “It's a shame, it's a beauty.”

“C-Can you fix it?” I asked timidly, starting to regret what I had done. Her smile showed me that I shouldn't do it.

“Mm, I think so,” she said nodding, moving the machine to a small table with tools. I followed closely, watching her curiously. “Let's see…”

“I can, I can leave you alone if you are more comfortable,” I murmured when she started working, checking the pieces with a frown. She stopped and looked at me, shaking her head, with that wonderful smile…

“Oh, no, well… It's good to have some company, besides, that way I can prove that I'm not scamming you,” the assistant said amused, carefully unscrewing the machine.

“I trust you,” I said without thinking, playing with my hands again, trying not to look at her face, not to notice that scar that told me we had something in common, even if she couldn't know it.

“You must be the only one,” she commented sighing, searching for something in a box of spare parts. I tilted my head curiously. “Normally the people of this village are quite distrustful… I can't blame them, my boss is not exactly a… reliable man…” she said smiling, making the gesture of quotation marks with her fingers.

“You are not like him,” I said, stating a truth of which I was completely sure.

“Mm no, I hope so,” the girl joked amused, struggling with the machine. “Okay…”

Silence reigned again in the warehouse. She worked on the machine with surprising skill while I watched her, memorizing each of her movements. If she had noticed how I looked at her… Well, she would surely be terribly uncomfortable.

“So… Do you use this machine to you make clothes for your dolls?” (Y/N) asked, taking me out of my thoughts. “Y-you made dolls, right?”

“Cosa?” I said distractedly, thinking about her past, about how she had to live through that attack, about her courage when facing mockery and offensive comments, how did she do it? “Oh, I… Yes, yes of course…”

She smiled, nodding, without stopping working.

“You know? You can tell the quality of a handmade product…” she commented distractedly. “I mean, there are modern machines now but… If you ask me, I prefer the old ones, like this beauty”

“Y-Yes, I… I think the same,” I said with a smile that she couldn't see, luckily.

“I think… I think it's done,” she said, moving the crank to check that it worked correctly. “Just like new.”

I didn't expect it to end so quickly. I got nervous, like every time something didn't turn out the way I had thought.

“You are… You are skilled,” I flattered her, taking the machine and checking that, indeed, it was already fixed.

She shrugged, with an amused smile.

“There had to be something good about me, right?” she joked, getting up from the table and passing by me, allowing me to look even more at her beauty.

“Uh… Tell me how much I owe you,” I said, putting the machine back in the box, searching in my head for an absurd excuse to stay a little longer, just a little longer…

“Oh, nothing,” she said, looking at me amused, shaking her head. “It’s not necessary.”

“W-Wait, I have, I have to pay you,” I said, with my hands starting to sweat again. You relaxed your expression, sighing and shaking your head again.

“No, that it’s not necessary,” the girl said with a confused smile, surely due to the trembling of my body. “I’m happy to help you, my lady.”

“No, don't be condescending to me for who I am, I beg you to let me pay you,” I insisted with a darker, almost angry voice. Her smile was worth more than all the gold in the world...

“I'm not condescending, I'm just doing you a favor, I like you,” she murmured, frowning, as if she was trying to meet my gaze.

I pointed at myself in surprise. The words refused to come out of my mouth.

“Do you... do you like me?” I asked stammering, puzzled by that phrase, one that couldn't be true.

“Yes, you're kind,” she said, looking away. “It's not something that's especially common in this place.”

“Oh, well, I... I...” I said nervously, having the imperative need to run out of there to hide my embarrassment, the invisible blush on my cheeks. “Grazie, (Y/N)…”

“Prego,” (Y/N) said, with a wider smile, as if she knew the reaction that hearing her speak that way would provoke in my body, paralyzing it completely.

“D-Do you know Italian?” I asked curiously, with my voice shaking at the same time as my body. She laughed amused, with a clueless expression.

“Nope,” she whispered in an ironic tone. “I know the basics.”

“Oh, of course…” I said, even more nervous, looking for Angie with my gaze. “I… I'm, I'm leaving now and… Well, we'll see each other, and…”

“Whenever you want,” (Y/N) said, sitting on the counter casually, swinging her legs and picking up what looked like a cup of coffee. “Um, my lady,” she said suddenly, when I had already turned around. My blood froze again. “I hope your doll doesn't break any more things.”

“Hey!” Angie protested, rummaging through the counter. “Shut up, you idiot!”

“Angie…” I sighed, gesturing with my head so the puppet would stop stirring everything up.

“She seems to be funny,” (Y/N) commented, looking curiously at Angie.

“Yes… W-Well… She's… I don't know how to describe her…” I said, more and more nervous. “I guess she's one of a kind.”

“I see, she's like you then,” the girl said in a low tone, one that betrayed nervousness. The doll was making her nervous.

“Angie, basta,” I growled at the puppet, who was staring indiscreetly at the cup of coffee.

“Do you like coffee?” the saleswoman asked in a kind tone, looking at Angie, letting me see her beautiful, damaged face. It was so similar to mine…

“I don't know,” Angie said, in a petulant tone. “What I know is that calling this thing coffee is blasphemy, how disgusting.”

“Angie…” I protested, losing my nerves, kicking the floor pathetically.

“Hey, it's not that bad, is it?” (Y/N) asked, bringing the cup to her lips and making a face of disgust. “Well, maybe it is.”

“Don't mind her, (Y/N)…” I sighed, noticing how the sweat ran down my forehead, how my nerves kept increasing. “Angie, dai!”

“Don't be mad at her, my lady, she's right,” (Y/N) said, pouring another coffee into a different cup. “Maybe you can give me your opinion… You, you Italians are good with coffee, aren't you?”

“Me?” I asked, leaving the box on the counter, timidly reaching out my hand for the cup she offered me. “W-Well, I wouldn't know how to answer that… Actually my, my family was Italian, I… I was born here.”

“Well, but I'm sure you have better taste than me,” the girl commented, leaning on the table, frowning suddenly. “Oh, it's not mandatory, I'm sure you have a lot of things to do instead of wasting time with me.”

“Not really,” I whispered, breathing heavily at her apparent nervousness. Not wanting to think, not wanting to feel the things I felt when looking at her, I brought that steaming coffee to my lips, moving my veil aside.

(Y/N) looked away, not wanting to be indiscreet, respecting my decision, but fighting with herself to do so. I could see her confused face, her desire to look at me.

The bitter taste filled my throat. It was really horrible, I hate having to agree with Angie.

“How is it?” the young woman asked, with a fearful look. I shook my head, pushing the disgusting coffee away from my sight and smell.

“È orribile…” I murmured, trying to sound amused. I never knew how to do it.

“I thought so…” the girl sighed, making a face of disgust at that cup. “No matter how hard I try, I can't handle that thing,” she said amused, pointing to an old coffee maker.

“Do you want me to show you how to do it?” I asked without thinking, I asked without wanting to, without being able to help it. She looked at me curiously, then at the coffee maker, and finally at me again, nodding with a shy smile.

“Well, it's not necessary,” she murmured, scratching the back of her neck, downplaying it.

“Please, consider it… A favor,” I said, mysteriously sure of myself. “Because, because of the machine.”

“Mm, well, okay,” she said quickly, gesturing for me to follow her.

As calmly as I could, I taught the young woman how to make a real coffee and how to handle that coffee maker properly. She listened to me attentively, looking at me from time to time and writing down my advice in a notebook.

She was so close to me, her bright eyes were so close to mine… I don't know at what moment I was stuck in her gaze, in her almost perfect face, no, no, in her perfect face.

“It smells so good…” she commented, inhaling the intense aroma of coffee, closing her eyes, granting me the blessing of contemplating her relaxed face, her tender gaze. “I was definitely doing everything wrong.”

I laughed shyly, pouring some coffee into a cup, offering it to her kindly, praying that she wouldn't notice my shaking hands.

“Try not to fill it with too much water,” I said with a serious tone, pretending disinterest while she tasted my creation, with a look of satisfaction. “Always pay attention to the valve.”

“Yes, this is wonderful…” (Y/N) sighed. “Oh, sure, um… Let me pour you one cup.”

“I… Okay…” I stammered, accepting the offer to sit next to her in a couple of chairs.

Without having thought about it, we were together, enjoying a quiet coffee.

I couldn't remember when I felt so calm, so relaxed and at the same time, so nervous, with my heart beating too fast. I guess it was the coffee…

“And then I told him: I don't need to see with both eyes to notice that you're a complete idiot,” (Y/N) said, chatting with me in a friendly way, as if she had known me all my life. I wish it were like that.

“Did you tell him that?” I asked amused, unable to stop smiling. She nodded with a serious look.

“He wanted to go on a date with me to give me a chance, can you believe it? A chance, as if I couldn't choose...” she asked ironically, shaking her head.

I didn't answer, I just listened attentively. Her anecdotes were funny, but hearing them through her lips... That was out of this world.

“Bah, I don't need a stupid boy to tell me nice things... I know he would only do it out of pity,” she said with a slightly sadder tone.

“Mm,” I murmured, playing with my hands in my lap.

“Every morning I look at myself in the mirror and think: what would my life be like if I didn't have this thing on my face?” she commented distractedly again, stirring her coffee with her spoon erratically. “I always come to the same conclusion: Here I am, this is me, and if you don't like it, fuck you... Oh, I mean, sorry... Go to hell?”

I laughed again, a bit sadly. I saw so many things about myself in her, things she didn't consider a problem. She was brave, I was a coward.

“I wish I could think the same way,” I murmured with a broken voice, attracting her attention, drawing a confused look towards me.

“Why do you say so?” she asked in a different tone, with a more discreet smile, with the glint of caution in her eyes.

I suppressed a sob. (Y/N)'s attitude was admirable, enviable. I was never able to accept reality, to look at myself in the mirror in the same way. I was a monster, and she wasn't.

“Forget it, it's nonsense,” I sighed, getting up, wanting to go home, wanting to cry for being unable to recognize the meaning of my heartbeat, wanting to scream, to curse the Black Gods for being unfair to me.

“Oh, have I, have I said something wrong, my lady?” (Y/N) asked, suddenly standing up, putting a hand on my wrist, making my whole body shudder.

“No,” I said in a cold tone, moving away from her grip, perhaps too abruptly. “Dai, Angie,” I whispered to my doll, who was playing with the junk in that warehouse.

“W-Wait, I'm, I'm sorry,” the girl said, stopping me from continuing, standing in front of me with a pleading look.

“Why are you sorry?” I asked, with an involuntary resentment in my voice.

“Well, I, I didn't want to offend you… If I’ve said something I shouldn't have… Oh, of course, it's because of the: fuck you… I don't usually swear, really… Not always…” the young woman stammered nervously, with her gaze traveling everywhere, unable to focus on mine.

“You haven't offended me,” I said, trying to sound softer so my demons wouldn't overwhelm me again, not at that moment, not with her. “I have to go.”

“Sure, I…” she stammered, helping me to pick up the box again, with a fake smile. “Um, if you're not mad at me… Maybe you'd like to come tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I asked, surprised by that offer.

“Yes, you know, I, I'd like you to check if I've learned anything about coffee,” she said nervously, with a strange blush on her cheeks.

“Do you want me to come here tomorrow?” I asked again, unable to believe her words.

“Yes, well… Yes, if you want,” she whispered, biting her lip and looking away.

“Mm, maybe I will,” I murmured, smiling, taking advantage of the fact she couldn't see me, my smile was hidden from her, as my monstrous face was.

That was the beginning, just the beginning of my constant visits to that old warehouse.

Funny conversations, exploits and experiences of (Y/N)… Any reason was good to hear her voice, to look at her beauty under the aroma of coffee. I could no longer deny myself my feelings. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, every minute, every second.

“Donna and (Y/N) under a tree …” Angie sang, jumping around while I, like every day, walked towards the village. I growled angrily at the doll, wishing she would shut up.

“Angie, per favore…” I sighed, shaking my head. “Don’t, don't talk that loud…”

“Oh, come on, there's no one here,” the puppet protested. “Besides, you're offended because you would like to be with (Y/N) under a tree.”

“Yes, it's true,” I said with a murmur, taking the doll in my arms so she wouldn't entertain me any longer. “(Y/N) is wonderful, don't you think?”

“(Y/N) is wonderful, beautiful, good, kind, fantastic, the best… Yes, yes, you've been repeating it constantly for weeks,” the doll mocked.

I smiled embarrassed.

“I've never felt this way about anyone,” I sighed, walking slower. “Angie, I'm… I'm in love with (Y/N)…”

“I know!” she complained, crossing her arms. “You're so annoying, Donna…”

“I'm not annoying, I'm talking about my feelings,” I said with a frown. “Hey, do you think, do you think she…?”

“Oh, no, no… Don't try to make me believe that I'm a fortune teller or something, I've already told you that I don't know if she feels the same. I can't read minds,” Angie said, shaking her head.

“But you're always with us,” I said, stopping before crossing the door. “Maybe, maybe you saw something that…”

“Oh, yeah… She doesn't take her eye off you,” the doll mocked with an evil laugh. “You get it? her eye.”

“Cazzo… I'm serious,” I said with a stern tone, starting to breathe hard.

“Me too,” Angie said, defensively.

I sighed, frustrated for not knowing, for not being able to read her thoughts, to decipher her smiles, to know if in any of them, she expressed something else than friendship…

“Oh, but that's not what I'm looking for,” the voice of an unknown woman made me stop in front of the warehouse door. (Y/N) was not alone.

“Who is that witch?” Angie asked, peeking through the door. I covered her mouth, hiding behind a wall.

“Mrs. Gravic…” (Y/N) sighed with a tired voice. “If you would be so kind as to tell me what you are looking for…”

“How rude, girl,” the woman protested, with a tone that made me burn with rage. “I don't know why the Duke hired you…”

“Donna… What do you think?” Angie whispered, rubbing her hands in a playful manner. I nodded, concentrating and gently reaching out my hand towards that unpleasant woman.

“Let's see… What do you say about this?” (Y/N) said, leaving something on the counter, something I couldn't see.

“Mm… Well, it could be that… Oh, Black Gods… Grandpa Igor…” the woman sighed and I smiled in satisfaction.

“Excuse me?” the girl asked, confused.

“Oh, I didn't mean to steal Grandma's jewels, don't chase me, leave me alone… No!” the woman screamed, running out of the warehouse in horror.

I nodded to the doll, high-fiving her. Mission accomplished.

“Hey, Mrs. Gravic?” (Y/N) said, looking at her confused, smiling when she saw me walk through the door. “Oh, Donna.”

“Ciao, (Y/N),” I said with the tone I always used for her, a calm one, increasingly sweeter, increasingly obvious.

“You came early today,” she commented, closing the door, like every time we were together, as if she wanted to save that moment just for the two of us. I shouldn't mistake that kindness, but at the same time, I couldn't help but do so.

“Well…” I said disinterestedly, leaving Angie on the floor, sitting on my usual chair. “I hadn’t anything better to do… I mean… Ugh…”

She laughed amused, shyly looking away, pouring the usual coffee.

It seemed like any other conversation. My words lost their fear. They became bold, even funny. All conversations developed the same way, all except that one.

“Um, forgive me for asking you but…” (Y/N) murmured, with a serious, different tone, with a look far from usual. “You probably think I'm stupid or… Well, that I'm butting in where I shouldn't but… I'm, I'm curious.”

“What are you curious about?” I asked, confused by her different attitude, by the fear I began to see in her hands.

“That,” she said with a sigh pointing at my covered face, one to which I brought my hand, with my breath frozen, lacking air.

 No, not that, my love…

“Um… What?” I asked nervously, diverting the conversation, saying with my gestures that this was the wrong path, that it would only bring her problems.

 “Well, you know, your veil… Why…? Why are you wearing it?” she asked again, her voice increasingly blurred by nervousness.

“Hey! Don't dare to say that to my Donna!” Angie shouted, staring at her, as if she was trying to do me a favor by deciphering her expressions.

“I…” I muttered. My hand was shaking so much that I dropped the coffee cup, breaking it into a thousand pieces on the floor. “Oh, porca miseria!”

“No, it's okay!” she exclaimed, putting her hands in front of her body. “It, it was my fault, I shouldn't have asked that… I, I… I'm, I'm sorry, shit, oh, no, no, I mean, dammit! I'll go to get a broom.”

I stood up, looking at the mess beneath me, nervous, seeking Angie's comfort, one that always brought me back to my senses. I couldn't find her, but I made a decision, the last decision, one last act of stupid bravery.

“Wait,” I said in a whisper, grabbing (Y/N) by the wrist as she swept the floor. “Wait, (Y/N)...”

She looked at me scared, guided by the movement of my hand, which forced her to keep her eyes on mine. Slowly, letting her go, I brought my hand to the black fabric, removing it from my face, revealing my deformed face to her.

Neither of us said anything. (Y/N) blinked in confusion, staring at me, getting a little closer, squinting, mouth agape. I looked away, suppressing my desire to put the veil back on, to run away and never come back.

“Wow...” she sighed, reaching out her hand to my face. I breathed nervously, holding her wrist tightly so it wouldn't reach its destination. I was about to lose my mind, in front of the love of my life… “Donna, wait, let me do it, please.”

I closed my already wet eye, holding back my tears, letting the softness of her hand caress my horrible scar, touch my hair with a rapt look.

“It's, it's incredible...” she murmured again, without stopping caressing me while I, nervous, unable to move, let that tear run down my cheek.

(Y/N) took her hand away, bringing it to her own scar, shaking her head. I couldn't speak, I couldn't even move.

“Donna, you are, you are... You are such a beautiful woman...” she said, smiling in a nervous but sincere way, illuminating me with the light of her beauty, returning her hand to my deformity, as if she herself were as nervous as I was.

“What are you talking about?” I said with great effort, almost furious, clenching my teeth. “N-N-non mi mentire…”

“I'm not lying…” she sighed, touching her own scar again, with a look of astonishment. “Wow, it's… Incredible… We have almost the same scar… Wow… Forgive me, it's just… What a coincidence, isn't it?”

“No, you're beautiful and I'm horrible,” I said sobbing, not believing her words, not even for a second.

“Oh, you must be joking,” (Y/N) said in a calmer tone, almost amused. “You have… You have a beautiful face… And well, what about that eye? It's, it's the most beautiful eye I've ever seen in my entire life.”

“What? Have you gone crazy?” I asked nervously, letting the veil fall to the floor. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Do you really think I'm laughing at you? Really?” she joked, pointing out her defect with a smug pose. I shook my head, trying to control my thoughts. “No, Donna, I'm telling you, I'm telling you the truth… Wait, what did you say?”

“Mm?” I muttered confused, running my hand through my hair, feeling unable to handle the situation any longer.

“That, that thing you said before…” she said, gesturing with her hand, accidentally stepping on the remains of that cup. “You know, that I'm…”

“You're beautiful,” I said with my head down, clenching my fists tightly.

“Mm, and how do I know you're not lying to me? You're my friend, there's no need to be accommodating,” she joked with an amused face, completely ignoring my subtle statement.

“Friend? Are you stupid?” Angie asked. “Donna, please… Tell her now.”

“Tell me what?” (Y/N) asked, curious. I cursed my doll. I was becoming more and more nervous.

“I don't know what she's talking about,” I stammered, having to stop my legs from running away right then and there.

“Hey, you can tell me anything, Donna…” the girl said, whispering in a tender voice, lowering her hands to mine, caressing them in a way that I thought was friendly, that I didn't think was romantic. “Really…”

“No, I…” I said, blinking nervously.

“Is there something worrying you?” she asked again, getting closer to me. “Come on, you can trust me.”

“(Y/N), I…” I stammered again, becoming almost hysterical as I looked at her peaceful gaze.

I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe it was so difficult for her to understand my feelings. I had taken a definitive step, I couldn't go back. I couldn't turn back now that I had come that far.

“Cazzo! I, I like you, (Y/N)!” I squealed disproportionately, making her widen her eyes and frown.

“Oh, is that it?” she said, still smiling, not getting the not-so-indirect hint. “Oh, Donna, I like you too.”

“Angie’s right,” I hissed angrily, shaking my head. “Are you stupid? I’m telling that I like you, damn it!”

Her face immediately changed to a confused look. I growled again, kicking the chair roughly.

“What do you mean?” she asked again. I froze, turning to her slowly and dangerously. A thunderous laugh filled the warehouse. Angie seemed to be enjoying that.

“Porca puttana!” I squealed again, kicking the floor in rage. “I love you, (Y/N)! I’m fucking in love with you! I can't stop thinking about you day and night, counting the hours until I can see you again! I love you, ti amo! You're the woman of my life!” I squealed abruptly, making her blink comically.

“Oh…” she sighed, with an amused look.

“Is it clear now? Or do you need me to write it down for you?” I said, losing control of my emotions.

(Y/N) shook her head, but didn't say anything, so I growled furiously again, grabbing the notebook from the counter.

“I…Love…You. That's it, you still don't understand?” I said furiously, tearing off the paper and angrily putting it on her chest. “Taci, Angie or I'll deactivate you!”

“Hey… Come on… calm down…”(Y/N) said, putting a hand on my trembling shoulder, turning me around slowly. “Calm down…”

Her soft voice relaxed me, but the tears were already traveling freely down my horrible face.

“Shh…” you whispered in a tender voice, taking my hands again while I, desperate, shook my head.

“I-I'm in love with you, (Y/N)… Ti amo…” I whispered more timidly, coming back to my senses little by little, dying of embarrassment for my nervous outburst.

“Yes, I've already realized,” she said amused, bringing one of her hands to my intact cheek, wiping away one of my tears. “Donna… Listen to me… I… I feel the same way about you…”

“What?” I asked nervously, startling myself.

“The truth is that I didn't expect to fall in love with a Lord but… Well, I guess life has brought us together for a reason, don't you think? And I'm not just saying that just because... Well, you know," she said in a pleasant voice, pointing at her scar.

“You... You have feelings for me...” I said, not knowing if it was a question or a statement.

(Y/N), still caressing me, nodded.

“Please! I'm going to get diabetes!” Angie shrieked, breaking the magic of the moment. “Yuck...”

“Angie...” I lamented, just when I was starting to enjoy that moment.

“It doesn't matter, Donna...” she said, amused, still looking at me, still piercing my heart with her gaze. “You can tell she’s happy...”

“Well...” I said, laughing nervously.

“Hey... I thought about closing the store for today,” (Y/N) said, moving away. “Maybe you'd like to do something together...”

“Vu-Vuoli... Vuoli...fare qualcosa... in-insieme?” I stammered awkwardly, not keeping control of my own language.

“If you told me what I think… Yes,” she joked playfully. “Let’s do something together…”

“Oh, okay, I… Io… We can, go… You can… You can… You can come to my house if you want… I, you… you liked sewing, right?” I said nervously.

She nodded with a funny look.

“I can, I can show you my workshop, and… I can, I can… We can sew together… se… se hai voglia… E… And, I can, I can show you my bam… My dolls, and… I can, I can make one like you if you want, and we can, we can…”

“Donna,” she said, interrupting my pathetic attempt at conversation, relaxing my nerves with a soft caress, one to which I also joined my hand. “I would love to go to your house…”

“Really?” I asked, nodding, with a sincere smile, far from my usual nervous look. “Would you like to?”

“Yes…” she sighed, getting dangerously close to me. “But first, I'd like to do something…”

“Oh, okay, wh…?” I said nervously, interrupted by her lips, which kissed mine, caressed them in a tender way, in a way I never expected to feel. I don't know what her first kiss had been, but mine… I would never forget mine.

“Much better, don't you think?” she sighed still on my lips, letting the rhythm increase on its own, so I could kiss her without fear.

“Ugh, they’re kissing!” Angie protested.

We both smiled, resting our foreheads on each other.

“Come on, honey… I'm looking forward to see your dolls…”

[navstuffs]

Yknow sometimes I wonder when Leon will get that dinner of his. A blurb or just add on to how a nice comfy dinner with Leon would be nice. I think as long as the meal is pretty filling he’d enjoy it.

Plus get a nice desert with his dear reader😋

taking Leon to get what he always deserves is one of my fav things to write for him. thank you so much for requesting me to write this, and i hope you enjoy it!

requests for leon/carlos are open! you can request them individually or in a poly with reader! | my leon's masterlist

You had heard about Leon's fame for inviting people to dinner before you got to work with him. Have you heard the best defense is the attack? So, of course, you took the initiative and invited him first before Agent Kennedy could even pop out the famous question. His surprised face made it all worth it, and you had to bite your lips to not laugh at his face.

"You want to take me on a dinner?" Leon wonders, his voice half shocked or half scared. You had never seen Leon Kennedy that stunned, not even while facing the terrors of bioterrorism, and something inside of you seemed to light up.

"Yeah. I wouldn't call it a date just yet." You decide to tease him a little further just to see his reaction.

Leon brought his hand to rub his neck, his blue eyes looking anywhere but your face. Is it your impression, or is THE Leon Kennedy blushing? Oh no, he is, the faint rouge color spreading over his cheeks, for more he is trying to hide with his darker golden locks covering his face. You want to ask if the cat cut his tongue, and Leon finally answers an embarrassed "yes," and you think you saw a small smile on the corner of his mouth.

So fast forward to Saturday night, you two are sitting at the table of the famous Mario's Cuisine, one of your favorite spots for Italian food. You tell yourself that it is not a date as Leon passes his eyes over the menu. He doesn't look too overly dressed, although the smell of his cologne has never been this strong before.

After your orders are taken, there is just silence at the table. You observe all the other couples on their romantic dates night, talking, laughing, and staring at each other romantically. You decide any conversation would be good at this point.

"So what do you think? Nice place, huh?"

"Yeah, Italian food. One of my favorite foods. Never been here, though."

"Oh, you will love it!" You exclaim, overly exaggerating with your hands. Not that you are getting nervous now, but you probably are, observing the candles flickering before you. "So, mhm, I just want to clarify something, by the way."

"Yeah? What is it?"

Before you can explain this isn't exactly a date, or you never would want to make him uncomfortable, the waitress returns with the wine, smiling ear to ear. You sigh, thanking, and the conversation dies down again.

You can feel Leon scanning you, wanting to say something, but he just can't bring himself to articulate. He is nervous, rubbing his hands over the table, hoping you haven't noticed yet. Before you can think this was all a mistake Leon gathers his courage to ask, his voice unsure.

"So, do you like Italian food?"

You stare at him for a second before chuckling. He smirks back, relieved. Until the food arrives, you two are in a very heated debate over Italian food: red or white wine? Lasagna or spaghetti? Meatball pasta or fettuccine alfredo? It is interesting to learn how much Leon and you love food and how much he actually knows about cooking.

"Wow, you know a lot, Leon!" You exclaim, astonished, and he stares at you back, pretending to be offended.

"What, you think I am an idiot who can't cook? I could cook for you anything you want!"

Leon seems to realize too late what he said, grabbing his almost empty cup of wine and turning at once. Before you can answer, the food is finally there, and you see Leon's eyes glow toward his plate. You decide to ignore his proposal, not considering it seriously as well. He just said it because he was excited, you tell yourself.

You two eat, debating the flavors and how good it is. Leon praises you for your choice of plate, redeeming you now to be a food lover like him.

"Well, that is for sure an honor, thank you," You chuckle, bowing your head down in a sign of respect.

Leon doesn't answer, just staring at you. There is something different in his eyes, a particular emotional expression you had never seen before, and you think there is some sauce in your shirt.

"Something wrong?" You wonder, cleaning your face.

"Thank you. For bringing me here." He simply says, low enough for you to hear. You feel a chill down your spine because Leon has never been so emotional as right now. You gulp before you answer.

"Sure? Of course! I have other restaurants to take you if you want."

"I'd love—"

A beautiful tiramisu is placed in front of both of you, interrupting Leon. The waitress leaves, wishing you a good meal. You grab your spoon, wondering if Leon will continue his sentence, but he seems too focused on his own desert.

When dinner ends, and Leon pays over your protests ("I invited you, let me pay, Leon!"), you exclaim you will be paying for the next one, and he doesn't really answer, looking down. When you two are already out of the restaurant, Leon turns to you, a peculiar expression on his face.

"Thank you for this. For inviting me... it was perfect."

"You welcome, anytime."

You two stare at each other without saying anything for a moment before exchanging awkward goodbye. Leon watches you go to your car before he turns away, hands in his pocket. He walks a few steps to his motorcycle before hearing hushed footsteps. Leon turns to find you, breathless.

"I am sorry, Leon, but would you like to go on other dinners with me? More like a date? Could it be a lunch date also?" Leon blinks his mouth, half open. His whole face goes red as he opens a big smile that illuminates his whole face.

"I'd love to."

[solarpunkani]

Ok things I think it would be cool to reuse covered parking garages for

And we are talking about those multi-floor kinda things the ones that look like this

These types. Idk if they’re super common outside of the states but I don’t think I’ve ever been in a city that DOESNT have one of these. They tend to be at least 2 to 4 floors tall, with stairwells and sometimes even elevators in each corner section. They’ve got ramps inside so cars can get from floor to floor, and parking spaces all along the insides too. And lights as well.

In a solarpunk future-world there would be A Lot Less Need for cars. I don’t imagine they’d cease to exist entirely (they’re still important for accessibility) but definitely not as much as would necessitate building or having these behemoth concrete parking garages (or several, as there are TONS in my city esp downtown.) ‘Stop building more of them’ is one thinf, but what could we do with the ones that would remain?

- Tear them down and use the space for something else is teeechnically an option, but could be complicated.

- The top part could be used as an urban solar farm! Honestly I think the tops of parking covers should have solar panels anyways, but yknow.

- Vertical farms! Genuinely didn’t come up with this one, saw it in another post, but I do like it! Put some grow lights in and they could be a nice concentrated place to grow vegetables in little raised beds! You could even dedicate multiple floors to this!

- Market places! Could set up some stalls in there on weekends and have people shop around, while still having some protection from the elements! I’ve seen market places in parks, under bridges, and parking lots—an old parking garage could suit fine for that!

- Skate park? The asphalt might be a bit rough for falls, but it could maybe be fun to add a few extra ramps and rails and make it a skater’s paradise! (Please do note I cannot skate so if any skaters think this would be an Awful Idea by all means let me know)

Let me know if you think of other cool ideas!

[pumpkinsy0]

the gang finding out about papercut hcs? like the after affect of them finding out maybe

okok i actually think doing hcs of them AFTER they found out is super interesting

•when pony says hes “gonna go out” without fail either darry or sodas gonna say “with who”, and they would say it SOMETIMES, but now they say it more frequently in a bit of a suspecting tone

•steve sweaarrssss pony became more if a smartass when they found out he was dating curly and hes not 100% wrong

•when it comes to johnny, i imagine that he WANTS to know how the fuck they even got together, but more than anything he just wants to make sure ponys safe, so hes a bit apprehensive and protective of pony while curlys around, its not obvious, but thats bc johnnys more so an observer, he watches how curly acts w pony and only reports something if pony aint feelin so good

•just to get it out the way, before soda just didnt like it, the first question he asked himself was how didnt he notice and now considering hes w curly, he takes a lot longer while looking at pony, and questions him a little more when theyre in bed

•the notice that pony rlly doesnt smoke AS much, and theyre surprised to see that cause out if the gang hes like ine of the biggest smokers, and hes holding that back????bc of CURLY????? whats going on between em

•part of the reason y they were so hesitant w them together id bc of who curly was yes, but also they just,,,dont know how curly is in a relationship, so they dont know how to go, they know curlys an aggressive guy n can get into some bad situations so theyre just scared for pony

•pony HATES that the gang found out, for obvious reasons, but also bc he hates being babied and watched over, and he hates it EVEN MORE when the gang pretends like they arent doing it, and thats exactly what they do, its like everything has to b perfect to them in their eyes and he despises it

•yknow i think it would b funny if even sylvia knew about it bc 1) word gets around and 2) dally, and she just slithers up to pony like “so u and the middle shepard, huh??” and ponys shitting bricks, mostly bc he has no clue how to talk to her, in the end dally shoo’d her away from em

•if we wanna go down the “they all found them out at different times” ik they all had that ‘i suspected them that one time where they” convo over a card game, shit went on for like 2 hours

•pony tries not being the last person to get home or else he’s LITERALLY going to get interrogated by everyone, like darry will question him and when pony answers someone else would just butt in and add their own evidence to try and get pony to tell the truth

[libbytwq]

hey can i be sappy for a moment, i feel like getting a thing off my chest (positive vent)

I love you all in the SMG4 Tumblr community so much. Y'all are absolutely epic and amazing and so creative and just. chill.

I've always been so nervous about joining set fandoms/fandom communities, cuz usually the community is huge and overwhelming, toxic, scary, crazy, and the idea of being in those communities and interacting with people in those communities and being in there not just to post a dingle fanart from it and dip, but to help be a big part of the community and whatnot sounded... overwhelming.

Then I slowly began getting super hyperfixated on SMG4, much more than I usually am, leading me to post more about it. Fanart, things I notice, goofy theories... more than just me saying a couple things i like about it, posting a fanart, then moving onto something else.

I started kinda just exploring the SMG4 tags and gradually, I began recognizing most of the people in this community more and more -- recognizing art styles, etc. I noticed how small a community it was.

And it was a mostly chill community. I wasn't really seeing much drama or questionable things, maybe some criticisms about the show or theories or whatever, but nobody was at each others throats. Plus, the fan OCs were super neat.

I had begun posting more and more SMG4 content, drawing fanart, their OCs, and the fact people were so just... chill and welcoming about it was so nice. It wasn't nearly as scary -- we are all just vibing here. Most of the artists you look up to will probably see your work, and give it attention too.

It feels super strange to be considered an SMG4 Tumblr artist, having people literally enjoying the things I make and making things for me when they make things for SMG4 fanartists... its honestly super surreal. But so so exciting and euphoric.

Cuz yall are so awesome!! Yall make my day so bright. Yall are the best.

I'll be honest, when I first was slowly being a part of the SMG4 community -- sometime right after summer vacation began -- I had been dealing with some petty but difficult irl person issues.

I don't want to get into it too much, but I had basically messed up in a pretty bad way (enough to make me feel bad the moment I did it, but not enough that we couldn't move on and mature from it), and the people involved were hurt worse than I thought they were, and instead of trying to talk it out they resorted lying about being my friends for months before school ended, and over summer break, tried to cancel one of my Scratch account and drag my followers there into drama that they had no business being in, for the simple reason being "you don't deserve all that fame".

Despite their attempt at trying to cancel me not really working out very well, it very much affected me negatively and made me very very scared about using Scratch again. I still post projects there sometimes, but i felt weird when i do it. I felt like those people were watching my every move, waiting to try and drag me down again. It felt so strange and scary to feel like the people I once cared so deeply about are breathing down my neck, waiting for me to make another wrong move and add it to their proof of why I'm an awful person.

It sucks ass.

The SMG4 community here on Tumblr, despite none of you knowing I was going through anything at all, you all helped a lot. Just existing.

Being a welcoming community that I feel safe to be silly and normal in.

I've never been the best at expressing appreciation, but let me just say:

I think of you all so highly and I never want you to change.

Keep making silly art. Or fanfics. Or AUs. Or OCs. Or whatever you like doing in this tiny close-knit fandom.

Keep doing everything you're doing to make this community mean so much to me.

❤️❤️❤️

...this sounds like im leaving the community,, IM NOT I just wanted to get it off my chest cuz ive been experiencing the emotions™ yknow, sorry that its not like my regular posts lol, im not gonna post like this much LMAOOO

TL;DR: yall are fuckin awesome please keep being awesome forever and ever ily bye

[allhailmeandmy]

Since my mc has long hair, and in my head cannon minhyeok does his hair, I've been thinking of who'd do mcs hair in each nation

The go-to's:

Eligos: he'd brush and style your hair so good! His style will end up with a bow worked into your hair one way or another

Sitri: the events show how serious and reliable he is, so he will do your hair as you want it, his personal best hairstyles being professional, but if you were o tell him "like that" he'll do so

Paimon: he will do your hair well too, he'd specialise in trendy and fun hairstyles, matching too if it's something you'd like

Barbatos: out of all hades nobles, I think barbatos would do it the best, maybe it's because he has long hair and my minds biased in "hmm long hair must be good at doing hair", I think he'd do it well , probably would recommend good hair treatment for hair textures since his, to me, looks thick and on a wavy curly side

Orias: yknow, since he's a hell influencer, a beauty one at that, I think he'd do good hair health and styles, and if not at least follow along to hairstyles tutorials well ( be it idk the dude well)

Bael: name a thing he CANT do, quickly, but yea he'd brush and style your hair like a professional would, a zen moment for both

Dantalian: Maybe , at some point, he grew his hair out and styled it into cute styles to match with his outfits, and thus, learning to brush hair into cute styles with accessories, bows pins clips beads, you name it

Ronove: hear me out, he just gives me a vibe of someone who'd do hair well, specifically something to keep hair up and keeping your neck bare, idk why he just seems like the type to me

Bimet: he'd do it well, really well, add golden accessories into hair, you'd be amazed by the end, simply.... his fees are really high, it's a luxury treatment you need to pay a high bid for, AND he expects a tip after too don't be cheap

Mammon: he'd be amazing at hair prep and treatment, not so much styling. If you want him to do it well, he'll learn, but his hair care will leave you dazed. He will wash it carefully and in a way that feels like a massage. If you have hair care already, he'll follow it. If not, you will get one with top-notch products, after wash and hair products to your scalp, he'll brush and untangle your wet hair carefully, after drying, he'll brush your hair making it feel like a massage, by the end your faces is glowing and hair shimmering like gold, anything to make his master happy

The "alright with instructions and guides"

Astaroth, leviathan, foras, belial, vassago, Naberius, buer, Morax ( probably the to go in paradise lost), gusion, bathin, beleth, lucifer

The "he's trying his best, but also tugging on your scalp"

Tugging on purpose to annoy you: Satan, glasyalabolas

Tugging not on purpose: gamigin, leraye, andrelphus, zagan, stolas, amon

Got distracted half way and left you with a brush in your hair

Beelzebub, phenix, gamigin sometimes

I might've forgotten someone but idk yet, this is cringe I'm not a writer, I just felt like sharing cuz maybe someone will enjoy it, so for that one person who likes this, I do it for you!