#missedditart

[rudnitskaia]

This note was supposed to appear in a Christmas fanfic, but after @acesandocs sent me an ask about RoMaunce "Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)" with an art request, I made a decision to post both the fic and the note much earlier. The fic is under the cut, enjoy the Christmas spirit in the middle of summer. :D

Bonus: the fic also tells the story of The Most Ridiculous Scarf's creation. x))

The Winter Wonder

Working until the last client was an awful practice.

Mau couldn't remember when she had gotten a good night's sleep. Hiding behind the storefront window, she rested her head on her hands folded on the counter and tried her best to keep from falling into slumber. She might have fallen asleep for real if it hadn't been for the cheerful music that was playing from the radio.

“Let's not disturb Miss Maura,” a cheerful whisper sounded barely audible next to Mau. A few coins tinkled quietly as they fell onto the counter, and two visitors headed for the exit.

She didn't instantly realize what was happening, and raised her head too late. Before the front door slammed shut, all she could see was Rocky wrapping a threadbare blue scarf around his neck with one hand, and gently pushing his cousin toward the street with the other.

The two young men who frequented the eatery, and who were different from most of the visitors, were constantly drawing a lot of suspicious stares. When Rocky had first brought his redheaded cousin to the place a few months ago, it had been noon on a workday, and the workmen who lunched at the eatery had become strangely quiet when the two young men had taken the only available table near the exit. Until that day, Rocky had always sat at that table for some reason, but every time he had been lucky enough to come to the eatery when there were few or no other guests. On his first visit with Calvin, though, it was as if he had deliberately chosen the busiest time of day. Like he wanted them to be noticed. But Rocky had guessed, apparently, that they had attracted too much attention, and since then, alone or with his cousin, he had shown up at the eatery either when honest people were busy working or at closing time, when honest people were getting ready for bed.

Such was the case to-day.

“And the following composition will immerse you…”

With a click of the switch on the radio panel the main room fell into silence. Despite the approaching Christmas, Mau was in a horrible mood, and even with all her love of music, she had no desire to listen to another sickeningly festive song. It was a cloudy, unusually snowy day in St. Louis, and Mau was apparently infected by its grayness, so even her usual chores were draining. Mau's father and the owner of the eatery, Mister Augusto Venza, had been away for a couple of weeks in Chicago on extremely urgent business, so Maura had to serve the clients alone and, moreover, had to meet 1928 all by herself. Though she was rather glad of the latter.

There will be no fuss.

Slowly, one by one, Mau counted the coins that Calvin and Rocky had left as payment for the coffee, and was surprised to find a piece of paper folded several times next to them. Unfolding it, Mau saw some amusing, almost childish, drawings in red crayon. On the first one, she herself was sleeping with a terribly sullen expression in a daisy field under a big, angry raincloud. In the second, Rocky held a sheep, which resembled a cloud of cotton candy and was eagerly munching on that raincloud, above his head, while the cartoonish Mau was already smiling. Next to these sketches was a wry caption:

“Don't be sour! Let sweet dreams eat all the bitter thoughts. R.”

Chuckling, Mau shook her head. She scrutinized the drawing for another minute or so, then sat down on the floor behind the counter and pulled one of the wooden baseboards towards herself.

“Come on, stop being stubborn…”

Finally, the baseboard gave way, revealing a narrow gap at the bottom of the counter that Mau used as a stash for part of her tips. She folded the sheet tighter and put it with the notes Rocky had sometimes left on his previous visits.

The front door suddenly swung open, letting cold air into the room. Mau's heart leapt, and she hastily pushed the wooden flap against the gap, then hastily stood up from the floor and shook off her knees.

“What is it, my dear? Are the spoons running away from you again?” the old Missis Bruno creaked in Italian.

“A keen eye you have,” Mau answered her also in Italian and added: “The usual for you?”

The woman nodded and headed for the far table. As she looked at her, Mau noticed the bright green knitted scarf under her coat and walked to the kitchen to serve Missis Bruno her favorite cheese ravioli.

“You have such a lovely scarf,” she said as she passed by. “Where did you get it?”

“Knitted it myself,” the woman's eyes flashed with pride. “There's some wonderful yarn at Scaffidi's now.”

“You're such a talented needlewoman,” Mau said, putting the pot on the stove. “I can't knit at all.”

The eatery became awkwardly quiet for a moment. Maura's revelation made Missis Bruno squirm uncomfortably in her chair. The mere thought that a woman of Mau’s age could not knit not only disturbed her, but appalled her. From the kitchen, Mau couldn't hear the old woman muttering worryingly to herself:

“Poor girl, there was no one to teach her…”

But even that wasn't enough of an excuse for her. She had friends, neighbors, and yet Maura Venza, at the age of twenty-two, could not knit! It's not a long way to ruin one's fate, thought Missis Bruno, nervously rubbing her napkin in her fingers. No, she could not let it go! A little while later, she said loudly:

“This is just unacceptable. What's your father thinking about? Certainly not that his daughter is so mature and can't knit. That's embarrassing,” her tone changed from condemning to admonishing. “Tell you what, Mau, honey, I'll teach you how to knit. It's easy, you'll see. Mama left you needles and yarn, didn't she?”

“I don't think so. Even if she did, it remained in Kansas City,” Mau lied habitually, barely containing a grin. She was amused at Missis Bruno's attitude toward such things. No wonder, though; things had been different when she had been young. Mau couldn't prove to her that knitting wasn't a required skill now.

“Not good. Not good at all,” the old woman continued to wail. “Back in my days…”

Mau sincerely hoped Missis Bruno hadn't heard the low chuckle that escaped her lips. She pulled a small bag out of the freezer. Knitting. Well now! There was a book she couldn’t finish for more than a month, and today there were mountains of plates, cups, and baking pans to wash. What knitting to think of.

Listening to Missis Bruno half-heartedly, Mau soon put a steaming plate of cheese ravioli with pesto in front of the old lady and returned to the counter. With the toe of her shoe, she again tried to discreetly slide a piece of baseboard back into the gap.

“…and then on Christmas Day…” Missis Bruno persisted. The wooden part wasn't falling into place. Mau frowned and mentally cursed. Why had she even opened the stash in the middle of the day?

Oh, yes, Rocky. Rocky and his funny drawing.

…and his old worn-out scarf.

Mau looked outside the window, watching the snowflakes fall slowly. She rarely got a chance to go outside, but Rocky, given his very specific occupation, had to be out in the cold a lot. And sleeping in the car in this weather must have been uncomfortable, too… it wouldn't take long to get sick. The mere thought of that made Maura uneasy. She pictured him huddled under his coat and a thin, shabby blanket, huddled in the back seat of the car, and she clenched the side of the counter tighter. He had been taking time out of his day for so many months now to come to her and just cheer her up with something: a humorous story, a funny trinket, or a little candy. As if whenever by any means he could find a little bit of warmth somewhere, he had always rushed to share it with her. And now, more than ever, she felt the desire to return that warmth to him a hundredfold. Slipping the teaspoon to the floor, Mau ducked under the counter and pulled back the flap of the stash.

“You know, Missis Bruno… I think you're right. I really should learn to knit. Could I ask you to lend me needles until my father returns and show me how to do it?”

“Of course,” the woman said enthusiastically, obviously pleased that her story had piqued Maura's interest. “Maybe you want to make something specific?”

“A scarf,” Mau answered without hesitation.

“Oh, a scarf is quite simple,” the woman squinted her eyes, smiling broadly. “With my advices, you’ll do it in two evenings. It's the dresses that require all sorts of tricks, but this…”

After a moment, Mau sat down in the chair opposite Missis Bruno and handed her a few crumpled bills. All her tips from the last couple months.

“Good. Can you buy a couple skeins of good yarn for me, please?”

Two evenings was easy to say! A week had passed before Mau could manage to do anything right at all. And Christmas was the day after tomorrow! So little, so little time… Mau yawned. She could hardly keep her eyes open, and therefore even had stopped watching whether the rows of stitches were knitted straight or not. She finished her work only in the morning, and fell asleep, holding her knitting in hands, with the needles dangerously close to her eyes.

And overslept.

In the morning, after freshening herself up, she hastily stuffed the scarf into a bundle of paper and rushed to the eatery. She spent the whole day in anticipation, hoping Rocky would come, and every time the bell over the door jingled, her heart jumped in her chest. Until finally the young man appeared on the doorstep, shaking off the snow from himself.

“Today is on the house, in celebration of Christmas,” she told him, setting coffee and a plate of chocolate pancakes with raspberry jam, garnished with three raspberries and sprinkled with powdered sugar, in front of him. And while Rocky, as if being hypnotized, stared at this gorgeousness and tried to guess if the berries were purposefully arranged in a heart-shaped pattern or not, she shoved the bundle into the pocket of his coat, which hung on the clothes rack behind him.

When Rocky walked out of the Venza family's eatery that evening, he couldn't stop smiling dreamily. He passed by the lamppost, dancing around it, and laughed softly, putting hands into his pockets. To think that Mau had baked pancakes just for him, and damn, what pancakes they were! But… what in the world was that?

He stared in puzzlement at the slanted bundle, and immediately opened it.

Seeing… a scarf.

Or rather, it looked like a scarf, except… the blue stitches wiggled from side to side, the crookedly sewn buttons reminded two eyes, and what should have been white trim on both ends looked more like jagged teeth. If it was a scarf, it was the most ridiculous scarf he had ever seen.

“How did you knit to me, buddy?” Rocky murmured, twirling the knitted mess in his hands. But there was no clue neither on the scarf nor in the paper shreds of the wrapper. Frowning, Rocky looked over his shoulder at the eatery and bit his lip.

Could it be that it was made by Mau?

There was certainly a chance that someone had put the bundle in his coat by accident, but somehow Rocky felt like there was no mistake. It was definitely a present. A self-made Christmas present. From Mau. For him! Rocky straightened the scarf and lifted it as high above his head as his arms could reach, looking at it like at an absolute miracle. The scarf, swaying in the wind, stared up at him with its button eyes and its crooked, white-toothed grin. And Rocky, as he continued his way toward the Little Daisy, smiled broadly back at it.

“Zib, please have mercy,” he kept whimpering, clutching at the man's pant leg. Zib made another attempt to make a step, but after dragging Rocky across the stage floor a little more, he gave up again.

“Kid,” Zib sighed, “if you don't let me go, I'm just going to sit on you.”

“Oh, please! I'll even be your personal horse, taking you out to the audience every night, right under the spotlight…”

Zib gave him a confused look and snorted nervously.

“No, I think I'll pass, thank you.”

“It's a matter of life and death, Zib! What can I do to get you to say yes? I'd do anything. Give anything. Literally. Even my eye teeth.”

“Why on earth are you so damn eager?” The man flailed his arms up. Rocky pulled himself closer to Zibowski's legs, squeezing them like a vise.

“It's just Christmas. I can't resist the urge to do good deeds. What a stale dry man wouldn't be heartbroken at a picture like this? Just imagine: a poor, unfortunate soul burning with a passion for music, but locked in a prison of pots and pans… as the servants of Euterpe, it is our duty to rectify such injustices! Even if only once a year.”

Zib groaned doomedly. He looked down at Rocky tiredly, then up at the ceiling, then back at Rocky, whose blue eyes stared back at him, not even with a plead, but with an almost childlike hope.

“I'm going to regret this…” he muttered, sighing heavily.

The next bright, frosty morning, Mau went down to the eatery and began her routine. She wiped off the dust, pulled open the curtains, opened the window vent, turned on the stove and set a batch of muffins to bake, began to prepare the batter for tomorrow as usual, and then…

…heard the music.

From the street, very close by, came a jaunty jazz tune, accompanied by the singing of several male voices. Mystified, Mau rubbed her hand over the fogged glass of the window and looked outside… no, it couldn't be. She ran out onto the porch and, still not believing her eyes, stared at the whole orchestra on the sidewalk in front of the eatery. When Rocky noticed her, he stepped forward and twirled around himself, playing his violin with an unusually wide smile. Looking at him, Mau laughed warmly and outlined the musicians with her hands, as if silently asking: How? How is this possible? Rocky only fleetingly lowered his gaze, paying her attention to his new scarf, and then winked at her, continuing his improvised dance with the violin.

It was a real wonder.

Soon the music and singing subsided, and Maura, still grinning happily, loudly applauded.

“Bravi! Bravi! Oh, but please hurry inside, I don’t want you all to catch cold! Come on!”

Zib's band could barely fit into the cramped space of the eatery, but that only made the atmosphere more welcoming. When Rocky cheerfully introduced Mau to all the musicians, whose names immediately mixed in her head, she brought out cinnamon coffee for each of them and a vase of ginger cookies to bite until the cupcakes were ready.

“Mind if I smoke?” Zib asked, making himself comfortable in the old chair. Mau shook her head, locking the door. No, there will be no working until the last client today. Today will be only the celebration.

“How could I say no after such an amazing concert? How did you all even sign up for this?”

Zib chuckled, giving Rocky a sly look.

“Well, let's just say he's got a long way to work it off.”

“Oh, it was worth it,” the young man shrugged nonchalantly.

Following the cozy Christmas aromas, the tiny room was filled with stories from Zib's band's past, music and laughter. Mau couldn't remember when she had felt so alive, so it was like a dream. Such a sweet, sweet dream. In her mind, she went back to those distant noisy evenings in New York, when every holiday she and her father celebrated in the large company of the Riva family. When there was no fear or anxiety, when there was warmth and hope in everything. Mau's gaze lingered on Rocky. She didn't understand how he, with all his troubles and hardships, every time managed to do the impossible: even if only for a short period of time, but to bring her back that long-lost hope. But it was then, on that sunny Christmas Eve, when she finally heard in herself undeniably loudly: I love you.

After more than one hour and more than one cup of coffee, after a series of stories and a particularly noisy argument, Sy climbed up on the counter and began to dance and juggle apples to the lively rhythmic clapping…

When suddenly, dumbfounded, with a key in his hand, Augusto Venza appeared on the doorstep.

[rudnitskaia]

I DIED LAUGHING 🤣🤣🤣 Edd you're gorgeous, thanks for showing it to me x))

It's even funnier knowing Mau and Gusto literally lived in Kansas City and then moved to St. Louis xDD

Oh, what Missouri!.. 🤣

[libras-interactives]

of yours and your friends lackadaisy OCs which are your favorites other then Eve and Lottie?

LOL i mean Eve and Lottie are the top, I cant help it... i guess its no surprise that I adore Jack and Marius too. Thays why theyre major characters.

But non-UTDM wise, @juniperss also has an adorable baker Maeve who i rlly wanna draw. @cherryballistic's Lupita is an Adelita/soladera and i love her RARGH she inspired a lot of the Gunman stuff in UtDM. Ive learned a lot about @chucky-brontosaurus' Nazlı and @missedditart's Ace too :3 Oh and my partner made his cursed orange cat Catholic priest and another bestie has an Abyssinian actress im super fond of. Neither of em are on tumblr or in the fandom tho.

Ive mentioned my con artist Dolly Lee and nun Sister Marguerite, and my partner's priest is in there. They dont work well w/ UtDM so I dont rlly talk about them, tho I'll draw em sometimes. Id like to write them somehow, someday ^^

[king-chrono]

Character I made for @missedditart as part of an art trade! The only instruction I was given was “dragon” so I had a lot of leash

[rudnitskaia]

Such a beautiful day to be

Happy birthday to dear Åse! ✨💖✨

The evening before his birthday Åse receives a small package from Rocky, that is signed by Mau. She doesn't know where Åse lives, but knowing he and Rocky work together, she decided to pass a present through him. It was risky, considering Rocky's penchant for somersaults, and definitely would've caused a talk between the two later, but fortunately, the package reached the receiver intact with a clear instruction: not open it until tomorrow.

Whether Åse followed this instruction or not, inside she finds a mug with an awful goat pun on it, something reminding a hot chocolate substance with a surprisingly hazelnut aroma in a jar inside a handmade cardboard package, and a birthday card, stating:

"Dear Åse, Happy birthday! May all your days be as bleat-iful as this wonderful Sunday. I also asked papa to make gianduja for you, just like he made for me in my childhood (hope you'd like it more than my sugary pizza, ha-ha). You'll also find some recipes from him below, but I'd say you can simply brew it with coffee or milk, based on your preference. Love you much. Yours truly, Mau."

Thank you for gifting such a wonderful character to the world, my dear friend @acesandocs 💖 Hope your Sunday is just as nice as Åse's. ✨

[rudnitskaia]

Edd what have you done

It's incredibly beautiful, but my heart is shattered to pieces

So how about the Rocky dies theory?

The voices took over again and i cranked this out in 2 days. its a bit more polished that some of my other animatics but still very simple. I was very inspired by this this.

[rudnitskaia]

Is Maura superstitious?

Hi, Eddit! Thanks for your ask, honeybun! 💖🥹💖

Maura isn't superstitious in the common way, but when she was younger, she became used to developing sort of rituals for herself from time to time (not everyday). For example, "if I jump over those tiles, today will be a lucky day", "if I won't drop any spoons today, something good will happen to me" and so on. It's hard to say where she took that habit from, but it mostly works, aside from simple entertainment, as an affirmation or coping mechanism with the anxious, messy and unpredictable life she has. She subconsciously encourages herself to think positively through performing rather simple tasks.

[rudnitskaia]

What does Mau’s wardrobe look like?

Hi, Edd! ✨💖✨ Thank you for the ask, hug you tightly! *w*

If we're speaking about furniture, Maura's wardrobe is very simple. She and Augusto literally live in a very cheap, small and cramped apartment. The furniture there is just the same. Something like this, but even simpler:

(pictures are simply taken from google)

If we're speaking about what she wears, Maura's clothes mostly aren't hers — these are clothes given to her by her aunts and neighbors, so thank God some of them even match in colors/shapes not to look too awkward. I put everything under the cut.

Mau has:

Four skirts (brown, beige, bottle green (teal) and warm navy one for winter).

Four blouses (coral with white lace, turquoise with white embroidery, yellow/amber with 3/4 sleeves, yellow/amber with half-sleeves).

Pink sweater-blouse for autumn/winter with 3/4 sleeves.

Cream-white knitted cardigan for autumn/winter.

Two yellow/amber everyday dresses (one with flower embroidery, the other is more like a gown).

A bottle green / teal evening dress.

A black winter coat, a black hat and a green scarf that you, my dear friend @acesandocs, and Ace gifted her.

Five pairs of shoes: (brown shoes, cream-white shoes (I've drawn them with coral and turquoise parts, but that's not true :D), yellow/amber heels, grayish-brown heels, autumn/winter half boots).

A cream-white nightgown.

Mau also was drawn with Rocky in some other outfits (coral flowery evening dress, wedding dress drawn by amazing @aghostnamedclamity and a dress-i-ll-show-you-soon), but I don't consider them canon for her, I guess? Maura can't afford neither a wedding dress, nor an evening dress of such quality as a coral one or that one which I'll show you soon. But who knows? Everything is possible. :3

[rudnitskaia]

im really curious about: ''Don't be sour note'' and ''Maudern Times''?

Oh gosh xDD Thanks for asking, broski!! ✨💖✨ Usually my WIP art files are a disaster, 'cause I just throw smth into it to fix the idea for further development xDD

But here they are, sneak peaks from my Maudern Times & Don't be sour note WIPs files 😂

[rudnitskaia]

this is so cool aaaaaa <333

50 Followers! Part 2: Traditional Edition

Sketch

Y'all have really cool OCs fr🐐🐐🐐

Ernest Stanley - @kablamoo7

Lucille Carlton - @randomgirldraws

Marianne Villanueva - @ahhhh-118

Luc Rossi - @tohot4u

Åse "Ace" Olaug Årud - @acesandocs

Calliope "Calli" Cairns - @spiky-berry21

Cassie - @funfairsundaes

Aisling "Ash" Mayfield - @annlytical

[rudnitskaia]

And as I promised, right in a row, the 2nd part (the 1st) of the answer on number 19 from that list for @coffeintheface @acesandocs. 💖

Note: that ficlet highly depends on a joke headcanon that Mau and Rocky really married by accident. I wrote about it in the very old answer to an ask, but I'll also place it here for convenience.

"I can even imagine how these two might spontaneously get married because of an accidentally blurted out series of utterly stupid puns. Because it’s simply something fun to do. Like, they sneak out on the roof in the night, chatting incessantly, and then

Mau: You won’t do such a felony to me.

Rocky: A fell-on-knee? Well, I can dare.

Mau: And if I agree you’ll dare to do it right now?

Rocky: Oh, Miss Venza, it would be such a delight, but no one will marry us in the dead of night.

Mau: The dead of night, huh? I remember you told me about some business you run with a funeral home. There's supposed to be a minister. A funeral home marriage in the dead of night. Sounds like a perfect match.

And soon Rocky, arm in arm with Mau, will be banging on the door of the Arbogast Funeral Home, and if the face of sleepy Abelard Arbogast could have stretched more from their request, it would have stretched. :D"

So, here's the ficlet. :3

The Dawnright Truth

Note: Italian speech

“Hush!” Mau shushed Rocky, barely holding back a giggle herself. He habitually helped her to get over the window and then sat on the window sill, gesturing that he wouldn't utter another sound. Mau smiled. She only had a couple hours of sleep left, but for nights like this, she was willing to sacrifice even them. It was impossible to count how many conversations, how many laughs and fiddle tunes the roof of this house had heard… and Maura hoped that tonight would not be the last and that roof would hear a lot more.

As she took a step back inside her room, Rocky gently squeezed her palm and pulled Mau lightly toward him. Please don't go. She shook her head with a chuckle. No. It's almost dawn. Not letting go of her hand, Rocky pressed his fist to his chest. Waved one way, then the other in some strange pantomime, looking at Mau with the most sorrowful expression that he was capable of. Jokingly sorrowful, of course, but there was truth behind the joke. If it were up to him, he would make sure that this moment would never end; the moment when the whole city was asleep and no one but the stars in the sky could hear them. So that there would be no need to carve out time for secret meetings. And so that he wouldn't have to hide what he put into every melody he played to her at nights, behind the stares and smiles in the daytime.

Alas, now he didn't even have the violin in his hands to tell her, as usual, everything without words. He was about to hop back to the fire escape and continue to amuse her at least with his ridiculous silent performance, when Mau, laughing inaudibly, stepped forward and kissed him. So easily and openly that Rocky held his breath in surprise. But soon he loudly exhaled through his nose, closing his eyes and relaxing his shoulders. All thoughts, all words and images froze for a moment, and then swirled in his head in a fantastical dance again, as if drawing new music from that gentle touch. Rocky moved forward, toward her, giving himself over to the sensation of flight that had taken over him…

…when suddenly there was a loud thud.

The landing from heaven to earth was disgustingly hard. Rocky rubbed his chin, which had hit the floor just a moment ago, and propped himself up on an elbow.

“Mau? Is everything alright?” came a voice from outside the room.

Maura looked worriedly at the door and pointed Rocky under the bed.

“Quick!” she whispered to him, rushing over to the chair and placing it headboard down on the floor. Much louder, she replied: “Yes, I’m fine!”

A knock sounded.

“Are you up already? Can I come in?”

Mau clasped her hands together. Anxiously, she leaned closer to the bottom of the bed and muttered:

“I beg you, not a sound,” and then answered her father: “Of course!”

Not more than a second later the door opened and Augusto peeked into the room. Mau smiled awkwardly at him and pretended to pull up a chair.

“Was reaching for a book and dropped it. Sorry, didn't mean to wake you.”

Augusto nodded, seemingly paying no attention neither to the strange excuse nor to the wide-opened window.

“I was already awake. But why did you get up so early?”

“Couldn't get any sleep… tossed and turned for a while, and then decided, why lie around for nothing? Better go and bake some muffins before opening…”

Rocky didn't understand a word she was saying, but the tone in which Mau was speaking… no, not speaking, chirping with her father, caused him to laugh inaudibly. He wondered if it was from anxiety or if she always acted that way with him. The dust made his nose terribly itch. But Rocky didn't risk moving and only wrinkled his nose, hoping the sensation would go away soon. After examining all the cracks in the bedframe, he turned his head to the side and suddenly saw the jewelry box next to him. And he wouldn’t pay that much attention on it if he didn’t notice the tip of some kind of note sticking out of the box. A letter? From whom, he wondered?

Meanwhile, Augusto walked into the room.

“How lucky. I was just about to leave the keys for you in the hallway, but I heard you were up. I have to go out for a while.”

“Oh, sure,” Mau accepted the keychain from his hands. “For how long?”

When Rocky carefully pulled the sheet from under the lid, he was surprised to find out that it was his note. One of many he had left for Mau at the eatery. In some he had doodled all sorts of silly things, in others he had hastily made up short humorous poems that vanished from his memory as soon as they had hit the paper. And she… kept them? No way she did. Neglecting all precautions, Rocky lifted the lid of the box… and immediately slammed it shut.

But it was too late.

Several seconds of his confusion were enough for a tinkling melody to fill the room.

Mau's heart sank. Augusto stared in puzzlement at the direction of the bed and, not listening to his daughter's objection, looked underneath it. Rocky waved at him awkwardly.

“Good morning, Mister Venza.”

“You!” the man exclaimed angrily, pulling the guy out from under the bed by his coat. “Parasite!”

“Papa, stop swearing,” said Mau with pressure. Augusto stood up, not letting Rocky out of his grasp, and shook him as if he was holding not a young man but a weightless rag.

“What is this, Mau?”

“Please leave him alone.”

“I knew that scoundrel wasn't just hanging around in our eatery for nothing. Do you realize he's a criminal, Maura?”

“No more than we are!” objected Mau.

“That's already too much, sweetheart!” groaned Augusto and shook Rocky by the scruff of the neck again. “I've seen enough of his kind, you can see 'em a mile off! A swindler, a bandit, a rascal! What if he tells anyone about us? Or even worse, what if he hurts you?”

“He won't hurt me ever!”

“Of course, he won't. And he won't show up on our doorstep again either. I respect your choice, darling, but that! I simply can't allow that to happen! For me to willingly entrust you into the hands of some thug, some… some…”

“He's already my husband, papa!” Mau moaned in despair and immediately regretted what she had said. Augusto froze with his eyes wide open, now filled with true dread, but still didn't loosen his grip.

“Maura,” he began cautiously. “Don't tell me you're expecting a child from him.”

“What?! No!” exclaimed Mau indignantly. “It just happened… accidentally!” she tried to justify herself, but seemed to make it worse.

“How can you accidentally marry a man?”

“We thought it was in jest. I never would have thought a priest at some backwater funeral home could actually wed people! We were going to get a divorce somehow…” sighed Mau, and then, after a moment of hesitation, added in a low voice: “…but I don't think that's necessary anymore.”

Augusto unclenched his fingers, releasing Rocky, and slowly lowered himself onto the bed. With a trembling hand he fumbled in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes, took one out and lit it. For several long seconds there was absolute silence in the room.

“What's your name even, hubby?” Augusto finally asked, so quietly that Rocky could barely make out the words.

“Roc… Roark Rickaby, Mister Venza,” Rocky held out his hand to the man, but he didn't even look at it.

“Does he know? About us,” he questioned, clearly referring to the disastrous troubles with mob that had been the reason the Venza family had fled New York. Mau nodded.

“Yes. I told him everything.”

The room filled with heavy silence again. Augusto took a long, nervous puff and stared at the floorboards for a long moment, unblinking. Finally, he covered his face with the palm of his hand and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.

“Oh, dear Lord…”

[rudnitskaia]

Sorry i got so excited to ask questions i forgot to specify but maybe a drabble for 3, 6 and 19. And a drawing for 18. But if you feel specifically inspirred to do something different im not complaining. Love these goobers so any kind of romaunce content is a win for me😁

Hey-hey, Edd! 💖 Tysm for the ask, I'll cover all the numbers, I promise! ✨😭✨ These are very interesting topics for me, so count it as part 1/?. :3 I'll tag your main and your new @acesandocs acc so you won't miss it. <3

I hope you meant numbers from that list, but if you meant the other - DM me, please.

I'll start with the number 19, "Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?"

And I came up with two ideas, so I post the two-parts answer in a row. Because I headcanon that it's Freckle who was the first one to suspect his cousin develops feelings for a certain Italian waitress, but technically the one who got the confirmed information about Rocky's and Mau's relationship would've been Augusto. So I did both.

First story will be from the Freckle's side. I once started to do a comic from it, but gave it up. So now behold this ancient scenario in a ficlet. :D

The Right Moment

“And what a pizza they have!”

“Pizza?”

“Yeah, sugary pizza!”

“Is this... thing really worth it?” Calvin sighed, deciding not to clarify what that ridiculous phrase meant.

“Oh, true ambrosia. You'll be flabbergasted!” Rocky exclaimed, keeping up his pace. Calvin felt that he had been trying to catch up with his cousin through the streets of St. Louis for about an hour, and he feared that he was going to spend just as long on the heat as he already had, but fortunately Rocky finally turned around the corner and confidently swung open the blue door of the little eatery. Calvin followed him inside and found Rocky waiting at the counter, but finding no one at it, he sat down at the table that was nearest to the entrance, placed his fedora against the wall, and drummed his fingers impatiently on the countertop. Calvin sat down across the table and studied the details of the unassuming establishment. Since when had Rocky developed such a fondness for Italian cuisine…?

“Why, if it isn't Mister Rickaby himself!” A lively woman's voice with a quavering “r” sounded over Calvin's ear.

“Miss Maura,” Rocky grinned. “How else could it be? Your cozy place is an oasis that shelters travelers from the scorching sun. I've even rescued one suffering man along the way. Working for the good of your enterprise, so to speak. Meet my cousin, Freckle.”

“Freckle?”

“Calvin. McMurray,” he habitually corrected Rocky, and finally turned around, meeting his gaze with the tall, young Italian woman. Calvin stared at her face and lean figure, but by the time he realized he was doing it for too long, thankfully, she was already looking at Rocky.

“We'll have two glasses of lemonade, please, your incomparable sugary pizza…”

“And a sandwich, please. Any kind. Not sweet,” Calvin added hastily.

“Not sweet? Are you sure he's your cousin, Rocky?”

“Oh, yeah, he is. He just doesn't realize what he's missing,” he waved it away. “You know for yourself that pizza's an undoughbtfully subtle thing.”

Mau laughed out loud.

“Oh, come on. I'm the one who knows batter that it’s just your oven self that works on a different fuel.”

“Hey!” Rocky chuckled with feigned indignation, but Maura was already heading past the tables toward the kitchen. Calvin stayed silent as he watched Rocky's eyes on the girl. He didn't say a word when Rocky again engaged the waitress in banter when she returned with the order. He preferred not to evaluate the flavor of the monstrous slice that was aptly called ‘sugary pizza’, but the sandwich and lemonade were very good indeed. Calvin kept his mouth shut even when Rocky, leaning against the counter, took a few good minutes to say goodbye to Mau. Only on their way back to the Little Daisy Café he surrendered to his curiosity.

“So… about that ‘sugary pizza’.”

“What, do you regret not trying it after all? I knew it! I knew you'd bite your head off. Well, I'll ask Miss Maura make more next time.”

“Next time, yeah. How long have you been visiting this place?”

Rocky pondered.

“A month? Or about two… something like that.”

“Only for sugary pizza?”

“No, why, they have good coffee, lemonade, and…” Rocky began to list without a backward thought, but then suddenly frowned. “Wait, what are you implying?”

“Nothing,” Calvin looked away and smiled involuntarily. Rocky squinted.

“Don’t tap dance with me, sneaky gingerbread. I can see right through you.”

“Well… uh. Neither of us are blind. Miss Maura probably… it seems she likes you.”

Shaking his head, Rocky ran a hand through his hair in relief.

“Oh, Freckle. You don't understand anything. Miss Maura… she's always like that. With everyone. Gives away words like hot cakes. Mine may be puncakes, but they aren’t served with any ‘additional syrup’.”

Calvin stared at the passing cars for a while, thinking if he should try to change his cousin's mind. But suddenly Rocky cautiously asked:

“…you really think?”

Calvin shrugged. Was he sure of what he was talking about? It was hard to tell. But what he'd seen in the eatery certainly… brought up some thoughts.

“Why don't you ask her out, since you two have been in touch for so long?”

“It's not that simple, Freckle,” Rocky sighed and gestured vigorously. “You have to be thorough, have to pick the right moment. Besides, have you seen her grumpy old man? A glancekiller. It's like rescuing a princess from a dragon's lair. And you're suggesting I just walk up and say…” he stopped in the middle of the street in a deep bow with his hands widely outstretched to the sides, “…do me a favor, my fair maid, go with me on a promenade!”

Suddenly Rocky felt how something was lowered on his left hand. He turned his head in puzzlement and found his own fedora hanging there. But it wasn't that that surprised him, it was… Maura. She was looking at him and Freckle with amusement, and Rocky had no idea where to get away from that look. And he wanted to get away. Wanted it desperately. Preferably somewhere under the ground. But before he could say anything, Mau nonchalantly stated:

“Well, if you promise to be a faithful knight, toss a pebble into my window at night.”

Calvin, who was watching all this, began to quietly laugh. Maura waved to him with a mockingly innocent smile.

“Goodbye, Mister McMurray, it was nice to meet you,” and, without waiting for Rocky's reply, she headed back toward the eatery.

Calvin's laughter grew louder the longer he stared at Rocky's confused face. It was simply impossible to hold back. Calvin felt like he was choking, but he didn't stop chuckling even when Rocky elbowed him in the side and exclaimed:

“Stop cackling, you!”

Rocky took a deep breath, covered his face with the fedora and let out a muffled yell. As Calvin continued to laugh, he patted his cousin on the back a few times, either sympathetically or encouragingly; it was also hard to tell.

Though one thing was definitely undoubtful: now Calvin had not a single regret about that visit to Italian eatery. At all.

[acesandocs]

Hei Hei

My name is Edd (she/him) and this is my Lackadaisy centric blog where i post and reblog (you guessed it) a variety of Lackadaisy content including: fanart, memes and my own art. I love anything to do with oc's especially, both mine and others. My main oc being Åse, nicknamed Ace. I also have two other blogs @coffeintheface and @missedditart.

If you have any triggers or subjects you blacklist feel free to send me a message and I’ll tag them for you. This blog is overall safe for work, but there are some art pieces that are risqué at the most. Those kinds of posts will be tagged with: cw suggestive.

Oc interactons, fanart or questions are all welcome! I don't really do request or art trades, but im willing to make exeptions for mutuals. I'm not comfortable with fanart that is serious nsfw or gore, as well as anything to do with ai.

Btw if you're looking to make your own Lackadaisy oc bio card i made a quick tutorial and resource compilement here!

fanart appreciation corner

More info and tags below

Info about Ace:

Bio card

How Ace fits into the Lackadaisy comic

family tree and timeline

voice claim

design reference sheet

Tag glossary:

General tags:

#lackadaisy cats = For canon Lackadaisy characters

#lackadaisy oc = For oc's both mine and others

#oc posting = When something reminds me of my oc. Doesn't allways relate directly to lackadaisy.

#my little mutuals 🦄 = tags for mutal specific posts

Åse related:

#Åse ''Ace'' Olaug Årud = Anything to do with my primary Lackdaisy oc.

#åse info = General info and present story. for those who want to know who Ace is and how he fits into canon.

#åse lore = Ace's backstory and family. Just extra fun for those who want a peak into Ace's life before and after the Lackadaisy comic takes place. Will likely include several superfluous oc's.

#åse core = similarly to oc posting, this is for stuff that reminds me of Åse. More specifically objects and photographs. (also a low key excuse to show my followers cool stuff form my culture)

#Årud family or #Hall family = When a post is about one or more of Ace's family family members, corresponding to each of them. Also used so i dont have to individually tag like 7 characters.

#Åse by others = Fanart tag for Ace

[rudnitskaia]

@aghostnamedcalamity Mau is Marshall, Rocky is Lily, change my mind 🤣🤣🤣

Super unorganized sketch dump ✨

I wanted to clean out some files and thought I’d throw this in here just for funsies :) There’s some WIPs, abandoned pieces, and some fun doodles. A few other’s OCs floating around here and there as well! Hope they’re recognizable without color

[rudnitskaia]

Me when I saw a notification:

"Oh, cool, more mutuals interactions, yay! ✨💖✨"

Me at the moment I opened the notification:

"WUT"

I've never even dreamt of seeing RoMaunce in your amazing style, broski. 💖😭💖 I stopped working and just sat and smiled into the screen for half an hour, and I still am in that state of pure happiness, smiling widely and dancing in my chair. I don't have enough words to thank you for this gift, but believe me, when we meet, I'll squish you in my embrace so tightly that you'll lose the ground beneath your feet. ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

You caught them so well, and as I've always said, your style is something incredible. I definitely can see those two bet on such thing (with some kind of a silly prize like another plate of spaghetti). xDD Maybe Mau will even encourage Rocky to eat the last bit in Lady and the Tramp manner, hahah. 😁 After that he'll be not just spaghetti-arms, but spaghetti-entire-being. 🤣

For now, though, please excuse me, I need to go and scream some more. ✨💖🥹💖✨

That's Amore~

Maura belongs to @rudnitskaia

Some ship fanart of Mau and Rocky

I was inspired by Heldig's post on Mau and Rockys dynamic, specifically the second picture. I honestly really love these two goofballs.

They were probably having a cute date but it somehow ended up with Mau Betting Rocky he cant eat an entire polate of pasta in five minutes. I cant imagine it ended well tho.

[rudnitskaia]

How am I seeing this only now???

The lore and Åse's development is incredible. I'm in love with this. *o*

Some of the different phases in Åse's life.

3-6 Like most are at that age he's a curious but shy kid. He has at that point started to pick up on how a lot of people seem to dislike him but he doesn't know why. His mom and grandparents try to shield him from most of it but he still gets teased and bullied by a lot of the other kids though since he was so little at that point he couldn't do much about it. (theme)

6-9 This is the point he gets big enough to actually defend herself. This period is marked by a lot of visits from angry neighbors about whatever new fight he had gotten into with their kids. His mom usually didn't punish him for this though as even she knew nine times out of ten he was just defending himself. And while he didn't actively start exploring her gender identity until after she moved to America, she did start asking a lot of question about why certain things were only for boys or girls, like having short hair. He ended up cutting it himself after getting into an argument with his mom about it and it was mostly a decision made out of spite and just to see what would happen. (theme)

9-14 When he came into his preteens he had proven to be more trouble that he was worth so most left him alone at this point and just judged him from a distance. She also started making her own clothes and expressing herself though her fashion, taking a lot of inspiration from the fairy tale illustration in her favorite books. She also made her closest childhood friend when she was nine. And maybe she also wanted to look lovingly into her eyes and kiss her but all girls want to do that with their friends right? They stayed friends up until Åse had to move which was also her first heartbreak. (theme)

14-18 Maybe the worst part of her life if you asked her, not that she really want to talk about it anyway. Moving took a big toll on her and after a falling out with her mom she ran away from home. She fell in with a bad person who was very controlling and made her dress more to his liking than what she actually felt comfortable in. She wore a lot of dark colors and she felt and looked the least like herself. (theme)

18-19 After some questionable decisions and a short incarceration she officially became a fugitive from the law and thus started traveling west to escape the heat. He presented fully male at this point as well as starting to bind his chest. Traveling was ok enough and in some ways he got to fulfill a childhood dream of traveling the country. But the stress of not having a stable and safe place to sleep at night and not knowing if one bad run in with a cop could land her back in jail took a toll on her. So did all the back alley fighting matches he took part in to make money, its a miracle he still has all his teeth. (theme)

19-21 after getting scouted at a match in st Louis a subordinate of Atlas got him in touch with her and he offered her a job, to which she agreed. She was a bit of an outsider at first but eventually found her footing. He kept presenting male but did open up about his assigned gender to a few people. (theme)

21-22 while she wasn't all that close to Atlas his death still affected her through the shock waves it sent though the Lackadaisy. She might be the person with the most reason to pack up and leave other than maybe Horatio. Still she stays, because even if he doesn't want admit it she cares about these people. It took me a few tries to land on his default design but I feel he started to come together when I gave him the neckerchief. Its kind of a signature item and I try to include it in most of his designs now. He inherited it from his mom and thus didn't have it as a child. It kind of represent him stepping into being an independent adult. While the general style and length of his hair has stayed the same how I draw it is something I have and still struggle with. This is probably the closest Ive come to being happy with it. I struggled similarly with her pants as well for some reason. They have ended up looking more like bell bottoms than suit pants which isn't all that historically accurate but its ultimately what I think looks best. (theme)