#just angie thingies

[azuremallone]

@ms-boogie-man (left) and @azuremallone (right) enjoying this news.

[azuremallone]

@ms-boogie-man will get a kick out of this.

Shout out to the best joke I’ve ever told, WWDITS style.

(His name is Timothy)

[termagax]

i think generally no.matter where theyre living they all have seperate Rooms but sleep in a pile in one room anyways. because theyre freaks.

[simbasomba]

Am I redoing something I just finished today? …yes. Yes I am.

Is it because I hated the artstyle and the design in the last one? …yes. Yes it is.

Am I watching Klaus on Netflix while doing this? …yes. Yes I am.

[goldpilot22]

Percival is an expert at completely ruining the moment

[azuremallone]

All she wanted was a Pepsi.

[diangelodork]

DBDA ANALYSIS #13 (except this will probably also be late bc i have so much to say and also i got into a car accident so that’s my excuse for everything now)

today’s topic: tragic mick’s products are just as tragic as he is.

with most of mick (and tbh the whole show)’s magical items are rather tragic themselves.

the only item that does not align with this that i can think of is the enchanted jar in E2 (though, is it not rather tragic to have to house two thumbtack-sized gods who are total pricks?).

in the same episode, however, esther purchases the mushroom that inevitably kicks off her creation of “teethface” and is a clear-cut antagonist to our show. this is its purpose, however, so i’d like to redefine tragic as “not perfectly filling out its exact intended purpose and/or harming someone in the process.” this DOES cause the fungus to fall into that definition. teethface ends up turning against her, directly betraying the purpose that she, the consumer, had in mind at the time of purchase.

next, we see the maritime music box/sphere thingy. this DOES fulfill its purpose, but at a tragic cost - human life. they work around this, yes, by sacrificing an immortal being to their cause, but had they not had the night nurse, i don’t think that wrapping it in meat would’ve worked to successfully lure angie. without tnn, they would’ve needed another way, or to morally sacrifice a mortal somehow ??

next, we have the light of heart which he sells to crystal. she followed its command, stating her wish twice aloud and yet, it didn’t work until she said something with a downside to it. it could be that this was more raw of a wish or more real of a wish, but his claim was that “it protects you from the repercussions of toxic entanglements,” which means that “i want to keep david out of my head” SHOULD have worked, especially since she had said it twice as niko had informed was necessary and she hadn’t done this with “i just want to be normal.” it shouldn’t have worked with that second phrase as she didn’t follow the specifically set rules for the item. i’d say this is definitely considered tragic.

finally, the lucky charm he gifts to niko. of course, it is lucky and saves her life, but not in the way anyone expected, making it twisted and tricky in a way i would deem tragic. it forces her friends to mourn her death when she is not, in truth, gone. her friends and her mother have to deal with that grief and tragedy and i’d say that’s rather tragic in itself.

i’ve found that i somehow have some time to keep going, so here are a few bonus trinkets i’d call tragic that are not from mick.

the magic 8 ball, of course. an omen and bringer of death, not telling you when someone will die, but leading death to you once you’ve used it. thought to be morbid, but found to be cursed and imbued with death (the concept, not the person) itself.

the stones, gone searching for a ghost who was never there (gladys).

i feel like i’m missing something, so i’ll edit this if i realize anything. that being said, im about to pass out so GOODNIGHT!

[canmom]

dog day

went down to a local queer film thingy today and saw Dog Day Afternoon, in which Al Pacino plays attempted bank robber John Wojtowicz (nicknamed 'Sonny' in the film) who in 1972 ended up running a hostage situation and siege he really didn't intend to be in - someone who's a bit of a cause célèbre in these parts because honestly what's more iconic than robbing a bank to pay for your trans wife's bottom surgery?

(this is the real Wojtowicz during the event)

as a movie it's absolutely really solid. Pacino definitely does a fantastic job giving us a sympathetic portrayal of the increasingly harried Sonny trying to juggle all the competing elements of the robbery - reassuring his partner Sal, negotiating with the cops outside, managing the hostages. on a pure narrative level, it's a great screenplay, both full of escalating tension and capturing the humour of the unlikely camaraderie that forms between the robbers and their hostages. they get a lot out of the contrast between mundane concerns (not swearing) and the extreme situation, and it generally works really well.

the film portrays Sonny accidentally stumbling into being a folk hero - his televised calls in which he mentions the Attica massacre, and interactions with the crowd outside, becoming central the narrative that forms around the attempted robbery. it's compelling stuff even today - indeed the whole sensibility of it, the sympathetic bi and trans characters, the sympathy for all the characters, felt very modern.

speaking of, not really quite knowing the timespan of Al Pacino's career (I've still seen very few of his movies), I kinda assumed this movie would have been made, say, a couple decades after the robbery. so I was very impressed with how well it nailed the 70s period aesthetic... which turns out to be for a very simple reason, this movie was made in 1975, just three years after the events it portrays. which is wild to me, don't filmmakers normally wait a bit for it to be less 'the news' before they fictionalise the events? anyway it was a big deal in its day, scooping up a bunch of oscars.

this makes it quite interesting to look back because it really is a slice of how people felt about shit back in the 70s - as edited by the filmmakers of course, but every sentiment in this film is a genuine 70s sentiment by definition, right? the justified distrust of the police, the highly political gay angle, that's all shit we're hashing out today still. all these characters feel very much like real people out of their depth, and it's interesting to read about the process of filming it involving a fair amount of improvised elaboration.

anyway that all has the fascinating consequence that Wojtowicz was alive and watched the movie made about him. apparently there was a whole campaign to get the film screened for Wojtowicz in prison, which meant he could make a critique of it. as a result, he could write to the newspaper criticising their portrayal (via wikipedia). evidently the filmmakers took quite some liberties for drama - Wojtowicz calls it 'about 30% accurate'.

for example they portray him as still having been with his cis wife 'Angie' (irl, Carmen) at the time of the robbery, and add a fictionalised meeting with his mother where she is dismissive of Angie for weight etc., suggesting that it's somehow her fault that Sonny should go and do something as unseemly as have a relationship with a trans woman. as I took it, it's a portrayal of his mother's prejudice which the film broadly rejects - but in any case, all of that was just straight-up made up for the film, presumably because of the drama that the trans wife vs cis wife angle brings. in reality it seems that Wojtowicz separated from Carmen two years before the robbery, and he disputes her characterisation in the film (he's actually quite rude about the actress who portrays her, who to me looked like a regular-ass woman).

A third scene shows me speaking to my female wife, Carmen, on the telephone. (The actress who portrays her in the movie is an ugly and greasy looking women with a big mouth, when in real life my wife is beautiful and very loving wife.) I did try to call her, but the F.B.I. cut the phone lines and air conditioning before I could get to speak to her on the line. I did not like the horrible way they tried to make her the blame or the scapegoat for everything that happened, especially because of the Gay aspects involved. (...) First, the actress playing my wife, Carmen, made her look horrible and inferred that I left her and winded up in the arms of a Gay man because of her. This is completely untrue, and I feel sorry for the actress for having to play such a horrible role.

this is perhaps something of an aspect where values drift between when the film was made and the present. to us the idea that 'cis woman is ugly/unloving so guy is gay' is just laughable homophobic nonsense, something that the mother or the unfortunate estranged wife might believe but clearly not true - but Wojtowicz apparently felt that was a plausible editorial angle being suggested by the film, which he needed to correct.

but honestly it's Sonny's partner Sal who truly gets the short end of the portrayal stick here. he is pretty much set up with death flags from the early on - he's got greasy hair, he's taciturn, glowering, religious, kinda ignorant, and the one who's actually willing to go through with killing the hostages - in contrast to the charismatic, beleagured Sonny who definitely is framed as being in over his head and not likely to actually do it.

so when Sal's killed abruptly at the end of the film it's essentially framed as tragic but kinda inevitable, the only way they were going to get him to stand down. according to Wojtowicz, he was actually already immobilised when the FBI killed him, and Wojtowicz disputes that it was necessary to kill him.

the only photo I have of the real Salvator Naturile is a grainy police mugshot which is inevitably far from flattering! in this portrait he has somewhat similar hair to his film portrayal but the actor in the film is 39-year-old John Cazale.

the film has the main FBI goon (truly the most FBI looking FBI goon you've ever seen) warn Sonny that they're going to kill Sal; Sonny hides this from Sal as the group make their way to the airport in the bus he demanded, allowing Sal to be tricked into lowering his weapon so the FBI can suddenly kill him and arrest Sonny. the way the film suggests it played out, Sonny implicitly figures out that flying to maybe Algeria was not really on the cards, but makes an effort to keep the ball rolling all the same, to stop Sal from killing anyone and perhaps from some delusional doublethink hope they'll all manage to fly away in the end.

the real Wojtowicz was pretty appalled at this implication. he writes:

Now to one of the most despicable parts of the film. In it they hint very dramatically that I made some kind of a deal to betray my partner, Sal. It hurt me that the same F.B.I. who cold-bloodedly killed an 18-year-old boy can be depicted as having me help then. This is not true and there is no human being low enough in this world who would let the F.B.I. kill his partner in order for him to survive. It can be labeled as just Hollywood trying to sell a movie or just to increase the drama, but I call it sick.

Wojtowicz's trans wife Elizabeth Eden is portrayed in the film with a male name 'Leon', by Chris Sarandon. As I read it at the screening, the film portrays a time the line between 'gay' and 'trans' was far less clear-cut; Sonny is declared a 'homosexual' for his relationship with 'Leon', and refers to her with male pronouns despite calling her his wife. This appears broadly to be accurate: in Wojtowicz's letter, he refers to Eden as Ernie, and calls her his 'male lover'. He praises Chris Sarandon's performance, writing:

I feel he did it perfectly. If in real life Ernie had said those things and done those actions, he would have done them exactly as Chris did them. In the telephone scene between Pacino and himself his performance was unfathomable and a tribute to his mastery of an unbelievably difficult role. I was moved to tears by it because the realism was there and so professionally done.

the film paints 'Leon' as not supporting the robbery and actually wishing to escape from the increasingly erratic and violent Sonny - there's a compelling scene where they speak on the phone while the cops tune in. but is any of that actually true? Wojtowicz doesn't defend himself from any of that portrayal in the letter beyond briefly saying that 'some of what they both said ... were true statements of facts', even though they weren't discussed during the actual robbery.

all these inaccuracies notwithstanding, some good did come of the film for the main couple. consistent with Wojtowicz's stated intent, the film portrays Sonny as motivated in large part by paying for Leon's bottom surgery (in the film they call it a 'sex change operation', and the suggestion seems to be that Leon will only be a woman after that), and a scene near the end sees Sonny dictating. in reality, the filmmakers paid Wojtowicz $7500 for the use of his story (though he says they had agreed to give him more and did not honour that deal), and he used some of that money to pay for the real Elizabeth Eden's bottom surgery so... in a sense robbing a bank does pay, if you do it in a stylish enough way to get a movie made of you!

looking back on this whole thing nearly 50 years after the event... both the main characters portrayed in it are dead. Elizabeth Eden died during the AIDS crisis in the mid 80s - by that point Wojtowicz was out of prison and was able to give her a eulogy. Wojtowicz himself made it to 60, dying of cancer in 2006. both seem to have lead pretty regular lives. and now what remains is this movie, which found in their lives a suitably dramatic 125 minutes of screen time, where they could both come to represent something bigger.

most films I tend to watch depict entirely fictional events, so it's interesting watching a film which purports to portray something real. I end up thinking about all the ways in which turning it into film makes it artificial, simplifies people into characters. the way camera angles and lighting are arranged to inform us of a character's emotional state. the way the chaotic events are organised into a series of arcs of rising and falling tension, the rhythms of tense confrontations on the street and quiet moments inside the bank, the sense of space it creates between the outside (full of crowds and cops with guns where every movement is risky) and inside (where people can, ironically, play around with guns or have mundane medical problems). everything gradually escalating as new problems arise and their consequences play out - and all the boring hours of the robbery are elided, but still suggested by the changing costumes and lighting.

sifting through the chaos of life and making narrative out of it is what films do of course, and this film does it better than most, but it's weird to think about that. to try and imagine what it would be like to have a film made out of me, what dramatic choices they would make. biopics of 'great people' are well established, but this is a film about pretty ordinary people who did something kinda crazy once, and about the systems that they acted within.

very interesting movie, definitely holds up very well, much to think about. big shoutout to Small Trans Library for screening it, really looking forward to whatever they have for us next in a couple weeks.

[svt-kiki]

　( 𝐋𝐒𝐇. )　𝗐𝖾’𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀

2024.　pairing.　kiki ( fem!oc ) × joshua , kiki × lsh

an.　just kiki and lsh thingy,, i swear this wasn’t my plan at all 🤦🏻 ( idgaf ) / read this for the context

(    📁    )   :   NAVI   :  MASTER LIST     

(    tag list    )   :   @smh-anon @jennwonwoo @angie-x3 @scarlet789

[azuremallone]

@ms-boogie-man practicing her VTOL, 650 years in a row (above).

@azuremallone practicing her stand up comedy routine, 65 million years in a row (below).

Naya Kotko on Instagram

[pasta-artz]

Pov: your ex best friend and his lil gang get rid of ur parent's memories while ur big sister and the other trusted adults you know are gone so you use what he taught you against him and make it out to piss him off every chance you get bc you're salty lol

WAOHHH IM ALIVE? is this fandom alive? I hope so....ANYWAYS TANGLED OC WHATT⁉️

ANYWAYS this is my oc, what's her name⁉️ hell if I know LMAO, Drop the name suggestions below 😎

Anyways yapping undercut

SEASON 1

Anyways she's Rapunzel's younger sister, was sorta isolated cause her parents were a bit paranoid after having their first child kidnapped yadayada ermm Cassandra used to train her in like fighting and stuff cause yk self defense....she's sorta like shy cause well she didn't go out that often

Gets along well with Rapunzel, kinda sus abt Eugene but he saved her sister so she's like ehh whatever, befriends Varian and is super excited cause she gets her first friend her age!! Ermm he talks a lot of Alchemy cause duh, and she listens and let's him info dump, gives him access to the royal library super fun or whatevrrrr

Then when the whole thing with his dad happens, she's like "omg BRB lemme see if I can find any books or smth to help!! Don't leave!" He leaves...or sorta gets kicked out ykyk

She sorta gets upset with Rapunzel cause well...yeah..anyways when Varian returns she's like "omg bestie I'm sorry" and he's all yk, she notices he's acting a bit sus but along with Rapunzel helps him out... BOOM BETRAYAL, they fist fight /hj

Anyways Rapunzel's birthday‼️Oc is sorta just sulking cause she lost her bestie for life, but she's also not given up on trying to figure out a way to help her ex best friend...sigh ANYWAYS she gangs up with Rapunzel against their dad...BOOM THEY GET GROUNDEDDDD

Gang helps break her out too, she's all angy towards her ex bestie but also wants to talk to him cause she doesn't wanna fight him again 😞 but yknow fog thingy happens and she uses what he taught her to help fight but then she's like "OMG YALL this is a distraction‼️‼️" for what? She doesn't know what but she knows Varian well enough to know this is to keep everyone busy. And yk boom mother dearest gets kidnapped.

Anyways everyone gets ready to go and fist fight broski, and while Rapunzel and her dad go up to confront Varian they're like "okay you stay here cause your too young and too close to Varian" and she's all angy abt that too but does as told. Anyways varian comes out with his giant robot and she's able to fight him off a bit while Rapunzel figures out the rocks and delivers the final blow and yk that happens...THEN BOOM VARIAN GOES TO JAILLL yolo

ANDDD SEASON 2

She doesn't go with the gang cause she's still hung up abt Varian and in the beginning she goes to visit Varian in jail, but he kinda shuts her out which she doesn't blame him for. This I added myself but Varian spends his birthday in JAIL and she goes and is like "I brought you cake" and they kinda start talking but then it blows up into a fight and that's when she stops visiting him...sad

Anyways he and the other guys I forgot their names break out of prison, make her parents lose their memories abt her an Rapunzel and she sneaks out before they can find out, she sorta starts up a rebellion but a hidden one and occasionally appears to save ppl or break em outta prison and to also piss off Varian lol

And yes she uses what she learned from him against him bc she's petty...

SEASON 3

She helps the gang during their fight and explains what's beeb happening while they were gone, Varian redemption arc happens but she's sorta has trust issues now cause remember Varian was her first friend ever and he wants to befriend her again but she's kinda barely even talking to him

During the red rocks episode Rapunzel tries to push her to trust Varian again and after an emotional moment and when Varian is having doubt and yk fear, she talks to him, yk besties make up and they're friends again

This season would mostly be abt them rekindling their friendship and stuff BUT YEAHHH‼️‼️

they're sillies and I love em sm :>>

If anyone has any questions feel free to ask ❤️

(Yes she's in VAT7K but that's for another time)

[ms-boogie-man]

Ahem…

My roomie and I were just looking over this iteration of my online presence and experience

Yo … my blog-thingy has become a mashup of political memes and other commentary, and the notions, dreams, and frustrations of a sexually charged (horny) 19 y/o little vampire chicka

Gone are the designer handbags and pocket books, the graffiti and sk8 boarding, sports cars, hot rods and motorbikes, shoes like Van Dorens, Chucks and Creepers, owls, giraffes and sea turtles … and above all, the vampire posts from Underworld, Vampire Diaries and Twilight. Oh, and before the censorship of '019, I used to get away with blogging boy's roots and girl's cute little bottom holes a lot too These were the thingys I used to post when I had like 20K followers

Now I am a patriotic little vampire chicky with, like, umm, 800+ followers *giggles

Oh well, such is life yo!!! At least I post the truth and am still out in front of the story in most cases

Btw, I would rather I had 25 friends on here with their hearts and souls in our republic than 1M followers waiting on the next pair of sexy bubbsies I post

🦇🙃s (bat smiles)

Angie/Maddie🦇❥✝︎🇺🇸

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

♡ Hiya Blusy! hope ur not too overwhelmed with requests, sendin' love, support and appreciation over from the great land of Chuck-E-Cheese. ♡

anyways, onto the request.

Prompt where Hyper-femme, Fem!Reader, (obviously) who is already in an established relationship with Donna, who always likes to dress cute, as to look vaguely like a porcelaine doll for Donna (and Angie, because, that doll just loves sneaking into Readers poofy petticoats and scaring the living shit out of Reader when they grab the petticoat out of the closet, for wearing), one day, decides to up her (Readers) game by going into town, or in this case, village, buying some cute, ruffly, pastel (pink, white, yellow, ya name it!) fabrics, with a variety of textures, and colours, and means of usage (such as, fabric for a bonnet, fabric for a dress, thin, stretchy material cloth for stockings), sewing (Reader knows how to sew) themselves a VERRRYYY doll looking outfit (poofy tea dress, bonnet, bright colours that clash yet dont clash, curled hair, to resemble those antique dolls with bottle-curled locks, -- Imagine Lolita-wear, basically),

Reader also gets prim-and-proper, by fluffing on those white powder, makeup thingies (the one lottie uses in princess and the frog?? Sorry, non-english speaker, dunno what that is) and whatnot, to REALLY drive into that doll-y aesthetic

Reader suprises Donna, who, at the time, was just innocently reading,

Donna looks at Reader and just starts like, violently sobbing, because of how, 'Reader did so much to look like the stuff she likes!! She doesnt deserve them!!' (If that makes you uncomftorable to write, replace it with something more mellow)

Reader comforts Donna, through giggles, because of how ridiculous she sounded, -- reassuring Donna that she wasnt laughing at her, but at how stupid her reasoning for crying was, because, ofcourse she would dress cute if Donna liked it?? Reader would wear a trash bag if Donna had asked them to, no questions asked! (Okay.. maybe a little bit dramatic, Reader is an eloquent, feminine, 'pink! Pink! Pink!' lady that wouldnt dare to approach black clothing to wear herself, but, you get the point)

Reader promises to Donna that it was no hassel to make herself so pretty, -- 'sewing is a breeze! I love makeup! I just really like those doll vibes..'

Reader also promises Donna that, she'd love to doll (aha, get it?) herself up for Donna every once in awhile, because Reader just loves Donna, and how cute they feel in their respective style, so much, that they just HAVE to.

After Donna had calmed down from that whole 'you sewed yourself stuff for me??!!??! You put on makeup for me??!?@ you did your hair for me?!??!?@??@?!' crisis (again, if that makes you uncomftorable, mellow it down!! No worries!! 💞), and, plopped Reader onto her lap whilst she finished working on her dolls, taking pauses to kiss, and appreciate, and maybe shed some more self-concious, overly-thankful, singular tears, every once in a while --

The end result? A doll that, for some reason, really resembled how reader looked .. down to every scar, and fold, and pocket on Readers body, or bonnet, or dress.

Huh.. weird!

I ask of you to make this just mildly-sfw (meaning, kisses, carresses, etc are okay), -- not smutty or anything, if thats okay! Just cotton-candishly fluffy.

Hope my writing isnt too confusing? Dyslexic, non-english speaking, neurodivergant mess. Aha, please laugh! Anyways, write-ya later, alligator!

-- Chuck-E-Cheese employee, Anon 🐭

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your funny words :D and also for your request!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

Doll face

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: fluff,

Word count: 7,440

Summary: She loved you, she loved her dolls... Maybe it was time to put those two things together...

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

Another day began and you walked slowly towards the living room. The sound of your heels bounced off the wood like an elegant music that accompanied each morning. Before getting close enough, you looked at yourself in the mirror to make sure everything was in its place. You couldn't help it, you were always like that.

Every morning was a confirmation for you that your life went on, that you could continue to light up that dark mansion with your joy. The bright colors of your dress always contrasted with the sadness of those dilapidated walls, with the darkness that you, every day, tried to eliminate.

Being born with the gift of joy and color could seem strange in a place like that. The village always played with the same color palette, everything was white, black, gray... There was nothing that could stand out, that could change the sinister atmosphere of the place where you were born.

You always went against those principles, against the gray, the black, the darkness. Your friends envied you and you knew it. It wasn't your beauty, your intelligence or your skills, no, they envied your colorful way of facing life.

Proud of your femininity, you always looked for a way to put on makeup, to dress in an elegant and striking way. It was your style, yes, but also a hobby. Playing with darkness, facing it became almost an addiction.

You spent your days sewing, putting on makeup, telling the world that if it wanted to be black it would have to walk all over you. Joy, elegance and the desire to feel different, that was your motivation when you got up every morning.

The masses, the Black Gods didn't seem bothered, quite the opposite. Everything in your life went well, or so you thought, since you always saw the good side of things. Being happy was quite an achievement in a place like that and appearance was the first step to prove it, to stand out in a world of shadows.

But that different attitude had consequences. You were not shunned by the village. They didn't look at you with dangerous eyes, quite the opposite. Wherever you went, you attracted attention, you caught the eyes of everyone who was present, villager or even...Lord.

Yes, you noticed how the gazes of the four of them were fixed on you. One of them seemed more interested, unable to take her gaze off you.

Like a ghost, like the complete opposite of you, that black figure always followed you with its gaze. You couldn't know how, you couldn't see her eyes. A woman in mourning, covered by a black veil, a sinister doll... The dollmaker, Donna Beneviento.

At first you thought it was just another look, that the always bright tones of your clothes blinded her vision, bothered her. It didn't take long for you to find out that it was precisely the opposite.

Your joy, your determination to look good, to stand out from the boring crowd was what really caught her attention, what made her approach you with curiosity. That was the first step towards a perfect future.

It might seem that you two were like water and oil, like light and darkness, but perhaps that was precisely what made you slowly become addicted to her. You had much more in common than it might seem at first.

 You both loved sewing, beauty... Well, really, when that black veil disappeared, when Lady Beneviento showed her deformed face to you, you began to know what beauty really was.

She was a beautiful woman, really beautiful, she just didn't know it. You did, and you wouldn't let a second go by without reminding her, always. That contrast of black and pink, of paleness and color was perfect, a perfect mix that ended up leading to a kiss, a kiss that said much more than any clumsy word.

And so, time went by and your relationship settled comfortably. You even left your old home for that sad and dull mansion, with the certain objective that your presence would bring the light that it needed, that joy that was missing in that place, in that woman.

Donna was a dark just like her clothes. Her problems and misfortunes turned her into a wandering spirit, into a lonely entity waiting for the days to end. Your arrival didn’t change that erratic attitude, nor her inevitable madness.

You weren’t going to lose her. You were not going to let the darkness invade you too. You would be like a lifeguard, like the light that illuminates a dark path, showing the way out of a labyrinth of sadness and bitterness.

Despite those problems, despite the constant mockery of the Angie doll, you were happy, you couldn’t help being happier than ever. You would do anything for Donna and she would do it for you. An unexpected love, but one you would never let go of, ever.

“Good morning,” you hummed as you approached the table, always sporting the same bright smile. A fake smile to look elegant or to pretend? No, not at all, it was a genuine smile, one that always achieved the desired effect, that the lady in black would return one of hers.

“Ciao, tesoro…” Donna replied, leaving her coffee cup to extend her hand towards you, one that you took and caressed, letting yourself be carried away by the subtle pull that took you to her lips, placing them on yours cautiously. “Good morning…”

“Did you sleep well?” you asked, reluctantly abandoning those lips, going around the table and sitting in your chair.

Her gaze rose to yours, nodding as she poured you a cup of coffee.

“As always when I'm with you,” the lady said, with a slight blush on her cheeks, a reaction of her body that, despite all the time, she couldn't avoid.

“Mm, okay,” you said amused, causing a shy laugh from the woman in black. “Today is a splendid day.”

“Yes, it really is,” she murmured, nodding slowly.

“We could go for a walk,” you suggested, spreading jam on one of the toasts, a strawberry jam that, unintentionally, matched perfectly with your clothes, as always.

Maybe the color and you had a much more special relationship than you thought.

Donna shook her head, making that smile she always put on when she saw you, disappear.

“I have a lot of work, (Y/N), I don't think I can,” she commented with a serious tone.

You tilted your head, frowning.

“What a shame, because I have to go to the village and it would have been great if you came with me… So I could show off a little bit about you,” you said, pretending to pout as the lady laughed again.

“In any case, tesoro, I would be the one to show off about you,” Donna murmured, looking at you with a mischievous smile behind her cup.

You bit your lip and sighed, blinking in a petulant and romantic way.

“You never get tired of being adorable, do you?” you said amused. “Anyway, I really have to go to the village.”

“Do you have to go? What do you need?” she asked curiously, continuing with her breakfast, repressing all those words and flattery that always interrupted any conversation.

“Look at this dress,” you said frowning and pointing at your clothes. “It's already pretty old.”

“Old?” the lady asked, looking at you confused. “I thought you got it last year.”

“Mm yeah, but… I don’t know, today I woke up really, really wanting to sew,” you sighed, looking up at the ceiling, remembering all the designs you had thought of while you were taking a shower.

“Oh,” she murmured, arching her eyebrow. “If you’re so willing to sew, you could help me with my dolls.”

“Really?” you asked surprised. It was the first time she asked you something like that. Her dolls were something almost sacred to her. She would never let a stranger intervene in their creations.

“You sew very well, I think you could be of help to me,” she commented passively, taking a toast, looking away in a subtle way. “If it’s okay with you, of course.”

“I think it’s a great idea, Donna,” you said enthusiastically.

Actually, going down to that dark workshop was something you tried to avoid, but at first you had no choice. Your love for sewing forced you to hide your pride and spend hours with Donna in that sinister place.

Over time, the lady in black agreed to let you use the guest room for your sewing work, one blessed with sunlight, much better.

But that day you had no choice but to go down to that horrible basement.

“Are you comfortable, tesoro?” Donna asked, putting a chair next to hers and indicating you to sit down.

You nodded, earning a soft kiss on the lips, one that you deepened, making the lady in black give a shy laugh to your ears.

“Take these fabrics,” she indicated, sitting in front of the old sewing machine and giving you an assortment of dark fabric that you looked at with disdain.

It didn't matter how much you loved Donna. You liked how that black dress framed her figure but that color was still your worst enemy.

“Let's see…” you whispered, looking at each of the colors with reluctance. “Hey, Donna, are you going to use these colors?”

“Mm, I always use those colors,” she explained, looking for something in the notes of an old notebook and showing it to you. “Look, I'm sure that dress over there won't be a problem for you, do you understand what it says?”

You looked at the notes and with a small effort, you nodded pleased.

“Luckily Angie has taught me,” you commented amused, translating those elegant words written in Italian. Donna smiled pleased, getting a little closer to you.

“Always try to embroider it…Mm… This way,” she indicated, turning a few pages and showing you the designs.

“Okay…” you sighed in an exaggerated way, looking sideways at the black fabrics.

“Is something wrong, tesoro?” the lady asked, alerted by your sudden reluctance. “You, you don't have to help me… If, if you want to go to the village…”

“Oh no, it's not that, I'd love to help you Donna, but it's just…” you whispered, biting your lip and picking up one of the cloths. “Does it really have to be black?”

“Yes,” she said, with a concentrated expression, moving away a little and observing a porcelain head. “If you don't like it you can make it grey, I don't really care.”

“Grey…” you sighed with a tired look, glancing at a few dolls on a shelf, all of them sad, dark, depressing… “Have you never thought about giving them a bit of color?”

“Color?” she asked in a low voice, skillfully mixing paint and cleaning the imperfections of that lifeless head. “I don't understand you.”

“Always grey, black… Donna…” you sighed, drawing her attention. “What harm can it do to a doll to not look like it has in a funeral?”

“Explain yourself,” the lady murmured, painting the lips of that head, barely listening to you.

“You should use pink, or white for your dolls' dresses, they would surely look much better,” you said, nodding, touching the soft black fabric and hoping that the darkness wouldn't spread to your dress.

“Oh, I didn't know you made dolls,” Donna said with irony and a mocking smile.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head.

“Donna, color gives a lot of joy to everything,” you said, leaning on the table and guiding her head to look at you. She sighed annoyed, putting down the head and crossing her arms.

“If I want to see colors, I just need to look at you,” she joked, frowning, with an intriguing smile.

“Thanks,” you said amused, blinking flirtatiously.

Donna laughed too, but looked away.

“I like my dolls just the way they are,” she said quietly, going back to painting the head. “It’s my style.”

“Oh, okay…” you said with a mocking look, starting to draw patterns on the black fabric. “Well, your style is very bland, honey.”

“Bland… have you come to help or criticize me?” she asked, her tone a bit colder, but with her smile telling you she wasn’t upset.

“It’s constructive criticism,” you commented, getting up from your chair and walking over to one of the shelves, picking up a random doll. “Look at this one. Isn’t she supposed to be having tea?”

Donna turned to look at you and tilted her head with a sigh.

“It seems so,” she murmured.

“Well, she should have a white and red frilly dress with a matching pretty hat, not a boring dark grey dress,” you said, looking at the doll's fabric.

“Then she would look like you,” she said as you sat back down, shrugging.

“Oh, you don't like the way I dress?” you asked with a feigned look of shock and offense, cutting the black fabric to shape that boring dress.

“You're not a doll,” Donna whispered, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

A wide smile spread across your face and you leaned towards her ear.

“Oh, would you like it?” you whispered, kissing her ear softly before returning to your task.

The lady in black looked at you briefly, about to say something. She apparently changed her mind at the last moment and laughed softly, shaking her head.

“If you were my doll…” Donna murmured, after a moment of calm and silent work. It seemed that this innocent question was floating around in her head, something that caught your attention. “You would wear black clothes.”

“Mm, that's what you say now,” you said defiantly, sewing the sleeves of the black dress, afraid that this horrible color would cause an allergic reaction on your skin. “I'm convinced that once you try to leave the safety of these horrible colors you will no longer want to go back to black.”

“You are very sure of yourself,” she murmured amused, coming closer to kiss you slowly, something she always did when she couldn't prove you were wrong. “But I'm afraid you're not a doll.”

“Well, that can be possible,” you said to yourself. The lady blinked in confusion, but returned to her work.

The morning passed quietly. You sighed in relief when you finished that hideous black dress, one that Donna looked at closely.

“Do you like it?” you asked expectantly.

She nodded pleased.

“Good job, (Y/N)…” she sighed, placing the dress to give it some final touches.

“Brr…” you said, pretending to shiver. “I think I need a walk, that horrible color has stressed me out.”

“You're so exaggerated, tesoro,” Donna joked as you stood up, pretending disgust at that black fabric. “Are you going to the village?”

“Yes…” you sighed, stretching in an exaggerated way. “Do you want something?”

“No,” she said with a dry tone, looking away.

“Are you sure you don't want some colored fabrics?” you asked, leaning over one of her shoulders, opening your eyes like a puppy.

She smiled, pinching your cheek and kissing you before shaking her head.

“Whatever, don’t complain if people stop buying your dolls,” you said in an ironic tone, slowly moving away, stopped by a hand in yours, which kept you in place.

“All my dolls are sold, (Y/N),” she told you, in a somber tone, indicating that you had managed to offend her. Luckily, you were used to playing with the doll maker.

“Right, maybe it's because you're the only doll maker in the village and also a Lord. You could put a ball of wool on a stick, call it a doll, and the village children would buy it,” you joked, blinking cockily.

Donna growled, letting your hand go abruptly.

“Why don't you just leave now?” she asked in a dark tone, turning away so as not to make eye contact with you.

“Oh, are you kicking me out?” you said defiantly.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Don't tell me how to do my job.”

“I'm just advising you... If you make all your dolls the same, where's the originality?” you asked, insisting without fear. Donna would never blow up over something like that, and you knew it.

“(Y/N)…” the lady hissed.

“Okay, okay, I'm leaving,” you said amused, approaching again, surrounding her by the shoulders in an annoying hug and repeatedly kissing her cheek, causing her to laugh as she tried to escape from your kissing attack.

“Hey, lasciami…” she protested while laughing.

You obeyed, but when you moved away you felt a strong tug on your wrist that brought you back to the lady, kissing you in a deeper way.

“Actually, I would like you to be a doll…”

“Oh, would you?” you asked amused, playing with her hands. She nodded with a dark look, pulling you closer to her ear.

“Mm, if you were a doll you surely wouldn't say nonsense,” she joked with a sensual tone.

You responded by giving her shoulder a protest hit while she laughed amused.

“Oh, okay, okay,” you sighed, crossing your arms and walking towards the doors. “But you know what? I would be the prettiest doll, and the most colorful…”

Donna shook her head, sighing, giving you a tender smile, a completely in love look.

“Ti amo, (Y/N),” she said without looking at you.

“Oh, Donna…” you murmured, with all your cheesy side forcing you to get closer again, giving one last kiss to the brunette. “I love you, I love you, I love you…”

“Go away,” she said amused, struggling again with your excessive affection.

You nodded and obeyed, walking happily towards the bedroom. Of course, you couldn't leave the mansion without putting on makeup and spending excessive time to find something that matched your clothes.

You sighed as you carelessly opened the closet. You'll be wondering ‘Why careless?’ simple, because there was someone else in that house, someone who liked to scare you.

“Are you looking for something?” a sinister voice came out of the closet, hidden among your clothes. “Because if you were looking for me, you've found me, you fool!”

“Ah, Angie!” you said with a hand on your chest, startled by the sudden appearance of Donna's doll, peeking out from your clothes like every morning.

You didn't know if Angie scared you because she hated you, or because it was her way of having fun. You really doubted that doll had anything against you, after all, you came into Donna's life to make her happy and that is something that, discreetly, Angie would always thank you for.

“Scare, scare...” the doll mocked, humming triumphantly.

You smiled, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms.

“You're going to wrinkle my clothes,” you said amused, gesturing to the doll to get out of there.

“What are you looking for, silly? An accessory?” Angie asked, shuffling through your colorful dresses.

“A coat that matches this,” you said with disinterest while the doll continued to shuffle through the clothes. “Oh, wait, that one,” you interrupted, taking the garment that the doll held expectantly.

“Another day in which Great Angie helps you with your clothes,” the doll said laughing and getting off the furniture with a comical jump. “You're welcome, loser.”

“Thanks…” you said with a falsely elegant tone, putting that pink coat on the bed.

Then you walked to the old dresser, thus beginning another of your makeup sessions.

“Can I help you, silly?” Angie asked, sitting at the small table and taking your utensils.

“Okay,” you said smiling, gathering your hair. “Bring me that powder over there.”

The doll obeyed and silence reigned again in the mansion.

“Hey, Angie,” you said, glancing at the doll, at her white dress. “I think you're the only doll that doesn't wear black. It doesn't seem that Donna made you.”

“Donna didn't make me, you fool!” the puppet protested, startling you, making you growl. That was the moment when you were putting on eye makeup, it was dangerous.

“No? I thought so,” you commented, getting a little closer to the mirror.

“No, silly, silly, her father made me,” Angie commented, watching you from very close, watching you put on makeup.

“Oh, I didn't know that,” you commented, preparing the blush. “But I shouldn't be surprised. She would never make a doll in a color different than black or gray.”

“Do you have a problem with the way my Donna works? Because if so, get ready for a fight,” she said, moving her fists comically.

“No, no,” you said amused, moving your hands away from the doll as you put the blush on your cheeks. “I just can't explain her aversion to color.”

“Donna doesn't have an aversion to color,” Angie said, leaving you some room.

“Mm, well, it seems like it... Has she never made a doll in a different color...? A more cheerful one?” you asked curiously, distracting you too much from your makeup session.

“No,” the doll said shrugging. “But why would she want to do that? She already has you.”

“I'm not a doll,” you said amused, shaking your head, looking at yourself in the mirror, puzzled.

“Are you sure? Because you look like one…” Angie said amused, pointing at the mirror.

“What's wrong?” you asked, frowning. “Oh, too much lipstick…”

“Too much blush…” the doll added, making you sigh and take a piece of cotton to fix that mess.

“Yes…”

“Now you are a doll,” she said amused, making you look at her confused. “I'm sure Donna will go crazy if she sees you like this.”

“Oh, you think so?” you asked, looking at yourself carefully and correcting some imperfections in your makeup. “She already has hundreds of dolls. She doesn't need another one… right?”

“What nonsense, if Donna is obsessed with those dolls it's because she loves them,” Angie commented. “I don't understand why, I'm infinitely better than them, in every way.”

You laughed amused, with an absurd idea going through your head. If Donna liked dolls that much… How would she react if you really looked like one of them? Curiosity was much stronger than rational thought and it was never a bad chance to make the lady in black smile.

“So…” you murmured, putting away your makeup. “Do you think Donna will love seeing me like this?”

“Oh, sure,” the doll nodded, crossing your arms. “But, but, wait, I didn't say anything. Don't tell her…” she said hastily. “Donna hates when I read her mind.”

“Mm…” you murmured thoughtfully, excited by the idea of ​​testing that statement. If you were successful… Well, your mind was already taking care of the rest.

After putting on your bright and elegant coat, you went up the elevator, finding Donna by surprise. She seemed to be reading something at her desk.

“Honey,” you said with a wide smile, walking slowly towards her and leaning over the furniture. “Weren't you with your dolls?”

“No, obviously I’m not anymore,” she said, with a cold tone, reluctantly letting you kiss her cheek softly, accidentally marking it with your lipstick.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” you said amused, running a hand over her painted cheek. “What are you reading?”

“Niente,” the lady said, nervously covering a strange catalogue, something that made you suspicious.

“That seems like a lie to me, dolcezza…” you joked. “Let me see, please, please…” you said insistently with a high-pitched, pleading tone.

Your extremely cheesy and affectionate gestures had an effect on the brunette, forcing her to give in with an annoyed grunt.

“Wow…” you whispered, looking at that old catalogue of dolls, some very different from Donna's. “I see that my words have had an effect.”

“Sometimes I think you're a witch,” the lady commented while you looked at one of those dolls, one with a white dress, with ruffles, terribly adorable. Your mind was already working on ideas, but you still didn't know exactly which ones.

“A witch?” you asked amused, bringing the catalogue closer to your eyes, memorizing every detail of that pompous doll. “I'm just saying what I think.”

“Mm, yes, and you make me think,” Donna whispered, looking up and opening her eye wide when it made contact with yours. “(Y/N), tesoro…” she sighed, mouth agape.

“What's wrong, darling?” you asked passively, leaving the magazine on the desk again, meeting the doll maker's dazed gaze.

“You look… beautiful…” she said in a surprised voice, looking at each and every detail of your exaggerated makeup. “You look beautiful, today, tesoro…”

“Do you really think so?” you asked, surprised by that unexpected reaction. Donna nodded softly, with a tender look.

“Yes, you are, I don't know, different,” ​​the lady commented, taking your hands and swinging them with hers. “I, I like the way you've put on your makeup.”

“Oh…” you sighed, blushing at the compliment and at the reaction that your doll look had the desired effect, even better. “Well, I thought it was too much blush…”

“No, you look, you look gorgeous…” Donna said, pulling your body so she could kiss you softly.

“Donna, the lipstick…” you joked, moving away from that tender kiss.

“I'm sorry, I got carried away,” the lady in black apologized. “Your beauty never ceases to amaze me.”

“Mm, could it be that I remind you of a doll?” you asked amused, tilting your head with your hands on your waist.

“Maybe,” she murmured, distracted again by that catalogue, confirming your suspicions. “La mia bellisima bambola”

Well, now you could put into practice those ideas that were traveling alone through your mind.

 “Okay, Don, I could spend the rest of the day letting you tell me such nice things but… I'm afraid I have to go to the village.”

“Don't call me Don, I hate it,” she protested, receiving in response a wink and an elegant turn that made your dress dance in a hypnotic way.

“Okay, you grumpy spaghetti…” you sighed amused, looking at Angie. “Are you coming with me, Angie?”

“Bah, I don't think so, the Duke has the wool balls counted …” the doll said, sitting on the lap of her owner, who looked attentively at that catalogue, with a sweet smile.

Humming, you walked through the forest. The bright colors of your clothes illuminated you among the dull and pale white of the snow. You almost thought you were shining.

Your head worked remembering the colors, the shapes of that porcelain doll you saw in that old photograph. But what you really couldn't forget was Donna's face when she saw you made up like that, noticing your obvious resemblance to a doll.

Seeing that poor tormented woman happy was much more to your liking than sewing, much more than putting on makeup or matching clothes. Donna was your favorite hobby since you met her and besides, each of her smiles was a reward for you. The joy and tenderness of her gaze hid the pain, the suffering, everything she went through before becoming a Lord.

You were definitely completely determined to make her forget, to make every day with you special. It already was but... Maybe that makeup mistake could be useful in the near future.

“Oh, elegance itself approaching my humble carriage...” the Duke murmured when you walked towards him.

You nodded at him kindly, with your hands on your hips.

“Don't flatter me, Duke, I'm not going to pay you more for that,” you said amused. “Fabrics, I need fabrics.”

“Well…” he sighed, laughing satisfied. “Are they for you or for Lady Beneviento?” he asked, taking out a few rolls of fabrics of many colors.

“For me,” you said, coming closer to look for something similar to the doll in that catalog. “Do you have something with ruffles?” you asked curiously, running your hand over a fabric of a color very similar to the one you were looking for.

“Ruffles? Sure…” the merchant said, laughing pleased and showing you what you were looking for. “It doesn't seem like the typical fabric order you usually make me, Miss (Y/N).”

“No, it's for a personal project,” you commented, searching among those fabrics for something that could help you make a matching hat.

“Sounds interesting,” the man commented, with a gloomy look.

“No matter how much discount you give me, I'm not going to tell you anything,” you said amused, knowing the thirst for information that the greedy merchant always had. “Mm... Do you have this fabric in pastel pink?”

“Of course...” the man murmured, taking out the required roll. “By the way, let me tell you that you look beautiful this morning.”

“Wow, thank you,” you said, smiling pleased by the compliment, checking the quality of an elastic fabric that you would use for stockings.

“There's no doubt why Lady Beneviento is completely crazy about you. I always thought that you looked like... Well, don't be offended, one of her dolls,” the Duke commented, laughing amused.

You smiled and raised your eyebrows.

“Mm, do you think that Donna loves me just because I look like one of her dolls?” you joked, crossing your arms.

“I didn't say that, Miss,” he said, making a gesture with his hand. “But it's clear that you know how to please her.”

“Of course,” you said satisfied, picking up a much thicker cloth, perfect for a matching bonnet. “But… I'm not going to tell you anything. I doubt you are interested in my way of pleasing Lady Beneviento.”

“I'm interested in everything, dear,” he joked, to which you gave him a dark but amused look. “Oh, I'm sure these bows are perfect for what you're looking for.”

“Mm, let me see…” you sighed, picking up those showy bows.

Of course that man couldn't even guess what you had in mind, but you shouldn't underestimate him. He wasn't exactly a naive fool.

Satisfied with your purchases, you returned to the mansion, ready to start your little game, one that sounded better and better in your head and that you were eager to put into practice.

Naturally, poor Donna didn't suspect anything. She always tried with all her might not to get involved in your affairs. She rarely succeeded, but that time, luckily, was one of them.

Little by little, taking advantage of a carelessness of the lady in black, you managed to get that old doll catalogue, carefully observing each of the details of that doll chosen for your plans.

An elegant hat surrounded by a yellow bow, white stockings matching patent leather shoes... Definitely a classic doll, but with touches of your own style, replacing that boring white of the original design with a deep pastel pink color.

“Mm…” you hummed as you sewed, with the atypical blessing of sunlight streaming through your makeshift workshop. That guest never-used room that was something like your secret lair. “Let's see…” you murmured, checking the size of the hat, checking that it fit your features perfectly. “Yes, perfect.”

Satisfied, you put that pompous bonnet away in a place where Donna couldn't look and continued with the dress, the part that would take you much longer.

“(Y/N), tesoro,” a voice interrupted your sewing along with some soft knocks on the door. “Amore mio, are you there?”

“Oh, Donna, yes, w-wait a minute,” you said, hastily putting away all your work and opening the door, trying to put your hair up first.

What you were doing didn't matter, you always had to be perfect for her, and you loved being that way.

“Ciao…” she said with a sweet voice when you opened the door, looking at you with that bright eye.

Of course, your makeup didn't change since that day. You always tried to perfect the doll look that provoked those tender sighs, those caresses...

“Hola,” you said amused, enjoying how her gaze ran satisfied over your features. “Do you want something, my love?”

“Oh, well, I wanted to see you but...” she whispered, grabbing you by the waist, lightly pressing your body against hers. “I actually wanted to ask if you were hungry.”

“Hungry? Oh, well, now that you mention it...” you said with a tender smile, biting your lip at the gentle rocking of your bodies. “I’m a bit hungry.”

“You're distracted lately,” the lady commented, placing a lock of hair behind your ear. “What are you up to?”

“Me? Nothing,” you whispered innocently.

Donna smiled mockingly, arching her eyebrow and leaning in to kiss you slowly again.

“You’re a terrible liar,” she whispered playfully, releasing you from her romantic hold. “You spend a lot of time locked up in here, tesoro…”

“Well, spring is coming and I have to hurry if I want to be up to date,” you said in a calm voice, closing the door when the lady in black peeked in to see what was inside.

“Don’t give it so much importance. You look beautiful in anything you wear, cara mia…” Donna whispered romantically, stealing another kiss from you again.

“Hey, I can make something for you if you want… How old is that dress?” you asked playfully, subtly changing the subject and playing with the black fabric. “Don’t you want me to make you a…? I don’t know, a red, or an orange one, or…”

“No, tesoro,” she said, laughing playfully, like every time you hinted at her taking off her horrible mourning dress. “I like this dress.”

“Okay, okay…” you sighed, hanging onto his neck. “But some embroidered flowers…” you murmured, running a hand over her chest.

“I'm not going to put flowers on my dress,” she said, with a more serious look, crossing her arms.

“As you wish, grumpy…” you whispered jokingly, getting her to grab you by the waist again while you resisted, laughing shyly.

“Maybe you don't want me to cook for you,” she mocked, pretending to pout.

“Oh, no, no, um… let's go to the kitchen and I'll help you, okay?” you said, apologizing in a soft tone, earning a kiss on your made-up cheek.

“It'll be a pleasure, doll face…” she whispered, immediately paralyzing and putting on a nervous look. Surely she didn't want to say that, but she said it, to your ears’ delight.

“Mm, what did you call me?” you said, biting your lip and approaching her seductively.

“I'm, I'm sorry,” she apologized nervously. “I didn't mean…”

“You didn't mean to? Well, I liked it, Donna,” you said, turning around, making your dress dance like you knew she liked and walking towards the stairs.

That was one of the many proofs that your doll makeup was working perfectly. Donna looked like she had just met you, she was more in love than ever, watching you whenever she could, telling you those things that made you melt and replacing little by little her usual ‘tesoro’ or ‘dolcezza’ with ‘doll face’, something that wasn’t unpleasant for you at all.

The days went by and your project was almost finished. A last embroidery on your dress was the last piece for your plan.

“Okay… what do you think?” you asked the doll that sat on the small bed, watching your work.

Angie never said anything to her owner under the threat of revealing that, indeed, reading the lady's thoughts was one of her favorite hobbies, as well as scaring you.

“A cheesy, cheesy, cheesy thing,” she said amused. “Aren't there too many ruffles?”

“No… Look, it's almost identical to the model,” you commented, running your hands over the newly finished fabric, playing with those ruffles, caressing them while you turned the magazine so Angie could take a look.

“Hey, but that dress is white!” the puppet protested. “Why did you turn it pink?”

“Look here, it has white fabric underneath, do you see?” you explained, showing the parts inside of the dress, which matched perfectly with the stockings. “Besides, I wanted to give it my own style.”

“Yes, your silly, cheesy, cheesy style,” Angie mocked, moving your new dress curiously.

“Donna likes me being cheesy,” you said, moving the doll away from your new creation and hanging it on under the bonnet, observing the outfit from afar.

“Donna likes anything that has to do with you or her dolls,” Angie corrected, observing the outfit, imitating your posture in a comical way.

“So if we put the two things together…” you said with an expectant voice, satisfied with the final result.

“She's going to have a heart attack, for sure… Uh… That's not your intention, is it?” Angie commented, pointing at you accusingly, to which you simply rolled your eyes, taking the hanger and walking towards the exit.

“Do me a favor and distract Donna, she's reading downstairs, right?” you asked, opening the door cautiously.

“Yes, she is, silly,” the doll said, crossing her arms. “Relax, I'll take care of the silly Donna…”

As expected, Angie kept her word, forcing the lady to chase her after stealing her book. You took advantage of that distraction to go down to the basement and get dressed and well… put the finishing touches on your plan.

“Okay…” you said, looking at yourself in the mirror while putting on your makeup. At first your resemblance to a doll was more or less subtle, but that occasion required a little more powder on your face and blush, more striking lips and of course, a beautiful curly hairstyle.

You already had the golden hair color naturally, but it used to fall down, so curling it was perhaps the most complicated part, but nothing that was out of your reach.

“Perfect, it's wrong for me to say it but... I'm a genius,” you said, adjusting your hat, looking at yourself dressed completely as a doll. “Now let's see what you say, dolcezza...”

The sound of your handmade shoes was pleasant. The clothes were really comfortable, even forgetting about the whole doll thing, it was a beautiful dress that would undoubtedly accompany you from time to time, well, if Donna liked it, of course.

“Honey...” you hummed as you went up the elevator, walking slowly to where the lady in black was, reading innocently.

“Ciao,” she sighed, turning a page, without looking at you. “I thought you were upstairs.”

You laughed shyly, holding the sides of your dress so they moved elegantly as you approached the couch, slowly lowering the brunette's book.

Donna glanced at you briefly and then went back to her book, but that only lasted a second, the second it took her brain to process your change.

“Mamma mia… (Y/N)…” she sighed with her eye wide open, her jaw dropping slightly. Just for that face, it was worth all the work.

“Do you like my new outfit?” you asked amused, turning around to move your dress, to further hypnotize the paralyzed lady in black. “I've given it a little more personal touch…”

“But, but, but…” Donna stammered, slowly getting up. “(Y/N)… Sei come una bambola…”

“Yeah, well, it's just that I used a doll for the design, I don't know why, I thought you would like it, what do you think, honey?” you said passively, not giving importance to Donna's apparent nervousness.

“It's, it's incredible…” she stammered, grabbing your hand and giving you an elegant spin, touching, brushing the fabric, caressing your curls. “D-Did you make it?”

“Of course,” you said smiling, enjoying her exploratory caresses. “I know how much you like your dolls, so I thought that maybe seeing me almost turned into one of them would make you happy,” you explained, putting a hand on her cheek so she would look into your eyes. “Do you like it, my love?”

“W-Wait,” she said, blinking confusedly, moving away. “Do you mean that you…? That you… You did it this for me?” she asked, increasingly nervous, a reaction that you didn’t expect.

“Of course, darling… I like to make you happy. I'm not going to say that it has not taken me a lot of work but, well, you already know how easy it is for me to sew and… Donna?”

You stopped talking when you heard a sob, when you saw the sadness in the brunette's eye, an inexplicable one. You got a little closer to her. Poor Donna seemed unable to stop crying.

“My love, what's wrong?” you asked with a sweet voice, worried about her reaction. “Don't cry, Donna…”

“Y-You have, have, have you done that…? For me?” the lady in black repeated, with a voice broken by that irrational crying. “Just for me? But, but… You, you've been sewing for weeks and… You've put on makeup like that and… And… Just for me?”

When you realized what the reason for her crying was, you sighed in relief, lifting her chin and laughing amused.

“Donna… Of course I did it for you…” you said between soft laughs, wiping away her tears.

“But, but, tesoro… You didn't have to… You didn't have to try that hard… For, for me…” she stammered again, shaking her head.

You laughed a bit louder, causing the lady in black to protest by kicking the floor.

“Don't laugh at me,” she hissed, wiping her tears herself, looking at you in annoyance.

“I'm not laughing at you, darling,” you said, cupping her face in your hands. “I laugh at how absurd those tears are,” you whispered in a soft voice, coming closer to lightly place your lips on hers, in an almost imperceptible kiss.

“How do you want me not to cry? You, you know how much I like dolls and, and, you, you sewed that for me, you put on that outfit for me… Just to make me happy… I, I don't deserve you, (Y/N), I don't deserve you!”

“Shhh, don't yell, my precious Donna…” you said, calming that incipient crisis with more kisses, with more caresses. “When will you learn that I would do anything for you? Anything…  I don't know, if you asked me to wear a trash bag instead of clothes, I would do it without thinking, or even worse, I would be able to wear something black for you, my love…”

Donna smiled, calming her crying and shaking her head, taking a moment to contemplate you before hugging you lovingly, with all the love she dared to express.

“You are perfect, (Y/N)… Perfect…” she whispered lovingly in your ear, playing with your curls, calming the sobs that still came out of her lips.

“Just because I'm with you,” you said, smiling adorably, perfectly matching your doll look.

“Ti amo, ti amo, ti amo…” the lady repeated, showering you with kisses, caresses… Smiling after that little moment of crisis.

“Hey, the makeup, Donna,” you joked, gently pushing her away. “I love you too, so much…”

The lady looked you up and down again and suddenly frowned.

“I have, I have an idea…” she murmured, taking your hand and starting to walk. “Come with me.”

The two of you went down to the basement and entered the workshop. Donna didn’t say anything, but she seemed nervous, rummaging through her stuff for something you didn’t know about. When she apparently found it, she sat down on her chair, pulling your hand.

“Will you sit with me, doll face?” she asked you kindly, guiding you to sit on her lap, which you did happily.

Without saying anything to you, she began to work on a porcelain body. She seemed focused, but she was easily distracted by your kisses, the ones she gave you from time to time, with a tear running down her cheek.

“Mm,” you murmured, dying of love for those displays of affection, for those tender kisses that soothed your skin.

“(Y/N), do you have any fabric left in that color?” Donna asked pointing to your dress, after shaping the curly mane of an upcoming doll.

You brought her everything she asked for and as the hours passed, which seemed too short for you, you began to sense what she was doing. Your same hairstyle, your same dress, the stockings, the hat… Everything was reflected in miniature in that doll.

“Is it me?” you asked in a sweet voice, placing yourself well on her lap. She looked at you and nodded pleased, handing you the doll. “Donna, it's incredible… She has the same spot as me,” you said amazed by her mastery, by having replicated you in such a perfect way.

“You were right, (Y/N), the color suits the dolls well,” she said, kissing you sweetly on the lips. “It's a gift for you, amore mio…”

“Wow… It's amazing, Donna, I don't know what to say…”

“Just say that you will continue being the way you are… That you will be my favorite doll forever…”

[azuremallone]

@ms-boogie-man

exist

[misty--nights]

I had to pause the rewatch to work on my fics for the appreciation week, but now that that's done with, I'm back. And so, onto episode 4, my beloved. This is my absolute favorite episode of the season so I'm ridiculously excited to watch it again.

Niko's rent envelope has cat and flower stickers, and little dollar signs and hearts drawn on it. I love this girl so much

Jenny's nails are painted like metallic purple. I don't know why, but this brings me a lot of joy. I like the idea of her and Niko eventually doing their nails together, since they both keep pretty nails. It would be a bonding activity

I always thought Dagfinn was wearing suspenders, but it looks like he's wearing coveralls over his sweater

Even if there are no bodies to be found, does no one realize the people who jumped into the sea are missing?

Dagfinn says the magic eight ball tells you exactly when you're going to die, but that is not true. Like, yest, it says outlook not so good before Niko dies, but by her reaction after the explosion we know that the ball isn't exact. It predicts that she might not make it out alive from that whole thing, but it isn't exact. Basically what I'm saying is that I don't think that magic eight ball is as special as he makes it sound

Also, Dagfinn specifically says that the ghosts are jumping towards the sound, so does that mean he can hear Angie too? Of the kids, only Crystal hears it, and the others only notice something in the water because they see Angie's light

Honestly, with the way the police acted towards the girls reporting the leaper and the doctor that "treated" Niko after her collapse in episode 2, I'm starting to think there is something more going on with the people of Port Townsend. Dagfinn says the police won't do anything because there are no bodies, but are you seriously telling me that no one noticed the leapers going missing? Is it part of Angie's powers or something? I feel like a conspiracy theorist here, but you can't tell me there's nothing weird with the way the people in this town act about odd occurrences (and I know I'm skipping ahead, but with Brad and Hunter, are you seriously telling me there was no autopsy or anything after they died? The police just found these kids dead after a party, looked at them and said "yep, must have drank too much, no need to investigate further"? I don't know, there's just something weird about the way the town acts sometimes)

After the Cat King put the spell on him, Edwin physically tries to keep the words from coming out You can see him swallow them before he is forced to say them. I'm a sucker for this kind of trope tbh, so I'm living for it

I wish we got to find out more about Asha. Like, she can't just be a regular human right? Her portrait of Lilith is perfect, and she had the way to contact the Washer Woman written in one of her drawings. I know she said she was on drugs when she did those, but there has to be more to her, right?

Crystal's boots have flowers painted on them???? That's so cute! I love her. Do they come like that or do you think she painted them herself? Cause that would be amazing

Love the fact that the characters can ask the Washer Woman all they want, but the moment they ask for a non-riddle answer they are sent back. Like, Crystal gets to say "I don't know what that means" and "I don't understand" after hearing her riddle, but the second she starts asking for a direct answer she is thrown out of that realm thingy. Hilarious. I love the Washer Woman so much and the idea of her pettily sending people away because they won't accept the riddle is so funny to me

Edwin is still holding the red sea glass after they return from the Washer Woman, so theoretically they could have given Tragic Mick that very same sea glass. It might no have worked, but still, point is that they still had it

Jenny has a tattoo of a meat cleaver on her hand. That is the most Jenny thing that I have ever seen. I can't really see what the rest of that tattoo is, though, but regardless. Love her dedication to her brand

Have to love Edwin leaving Crystal to rummage through the garbage with Charles when ghosts wouldn't get dirty like she does. Monty is one hell of a distraction. On that same note, why is Niko the one putting the meat on the music box when either boy could have done it without getting their hands dirty?

Niko just puts on gloves after handling the meat huh? She dusts her hands a little and then puts on gloves, like her hands weren't fully red from the blood a second before

Niko's pants have a white flower embroidered (?) on the side. A little detail, but I always thought her whole outfit was plain color with no added things besides the mushrooms on her hat

The Night Nurse has like a reading light clipped to her book that she uses to dramatically light her face when she's telling Charles that the world sucks and he should move onto his afterlife

Love that after Charles' flashback is done the Night Nurse asks Edwin what trauma he'd like to relieve. What do you think his worse trauma is? His time in hell maybe? Why the fuck would he want to leave the world? I get why she would ask Charles and why she would show him his trauma from his time alive, but Edwin? It would have made no sense for her to try to convince him to go with her by showing him his trauma

I mentioned on the episode 3 details that Edwin doesn't flinch much in the Devlin house, but he's the first to flinch when Charles hits the Night Nurse, and actually gasps and calls Charles' name after the second hit. It must be a terrible shock for him, seeing good, smiley Charles like this, so angry and vicious against someone. Even if Charles calls himself the brawn, this is different, worse. He's probably never seen his friend like that, which only lends more credibility to what Crystal has been telling him. Maybe he doesn't know Charles as well as he's always thought

After Charles falls down crying, the other three share a look in the background, like they're trying to decide who should go comfort him

[she-is-27-i-checked]

9, 13 and 19 for your Rizzoli and Isles thingy ma bob 😘

Angie baby wtf - whenever Maura is talking and Jane's face just goes through 🥹🥲😍🤩🥺. I have seen it in MANY gif sets.

Character for a day - I would be Hope. I would have a Talk with Maura and say... Baby girl....what the fuck is going on with that hot piece of cop ass that follows you around like you hung the moon? And Maura would go "oh we're just BEST FRIENDS doing BEST FRIEND THINGS" and I (Hope) would say "the fuck you are" and show her the Lesbian Master doc. I would then team up with Angela Rizzoli to form a team of unstoppable matchmakers. (And I would hang around and show Angela Rizzoli what she's been missing with men).

Worst parenting - I would say Frank Snr but I don't think what he did actually qualifies as parenting so I'd say he's just "worst absolute dick-cheese". Worst ACT of parenting I would award to Angela for berating her daughter for doing her job and vocation (in a way she never treats her sons!) and then... AND THEN... berating her for quitting that job to do something safer elsewhere. Just absolute selfish nonsense. And then she is appeased by an alternate child moving nearby? Nonsense.