duffree

[duffree]

duffy wandered into the minimart at some late-night-early-morning hour with a giant, dazed smile. she’d spent most of today her crow self instead of her person self, and that always made her a little giddy. and sometimes when she was feeling especially birdlike, she liked to go to the minimart and buy a buncha stuff all separate just so she could watch earl count out her change again and again.

earl didn’t like her very much.

but she didn’t care. she grabbed a bag of corn nuts to start with and waited happily behind the next person. “whatcha gettin’?” she asked pleasantly.

[duffree]

homervnned‌:

brooks doesn’t know how duffy does it. genuinely likes this world. even with all its dust and gruel and ache, she’s sat here smilin’, like life’s a good time. maybe, in another world, he’d feel that way, too.

“ huh. ”  brooks peers at the bracelet and nods in agreement. this girl’s a natural –– even someone who barely knows the first thing ‘bout accessorizin’ can see that.

 “ stealin’ guitars now, are ya ? ”  brooks teases after a sip of coffee. “ whose band you put  outta commission ? ”   maybe his lips inch up into a ghost of a smile. maybe. brooks’ll never admit it.

duff let her eyes flutter back and forth from her bracelet to brooks. he was looking at her like she had six heads. but he likes her bracelet. or her skills, at least.

she knew it. she can always spot a kindred soul when it comes to some shiny metal. she beamed with pride. “i found a pack of old strings in the pig trash in the trailer park. they were sparkling ‘cause the sun was setting.”

she laid it on the table and pulled out some of her other scrap to work with. “i don’t understand how people can throw away such beautiful things,” she shook her head, mesmerized. 

[duffree]

theothercasper‌:

“you’re the best.”  casper was grateful for duffy.  whenever they crossed paths, it was always a good experience, and if casper was being honest, she was his favorite waitress.

he pretended to mull it over, eyes sparkling with delight.  there was something so nostalgic about chicken tenders that made it damn near impossible for casper to say no.  he’d live on them, too, if they had the same power that salads apparently were supposed to.

“why the hell not? on one condition.” he paused, giving the place a good look around before looking back at duffy.  “whenever you’re due for a break or off for the night, come hang with me.  feels like I haven’t seen ya in a while.”

“i know i am,” she replied with a teasing lilt in her voice. it was always a good shift when casper came in. something about him just brightened her day. or night. whenever he decided to pass through.

she liked that he came and went too. calmly. nothing to hide or run from. that was the kind of life duffy wanted to live. she scribbled out his order on her pad and passed it off to georgia, heading into the kitchen behind her. she’d rather lean over the counter and talk to cas.

and she couldn’t help but smile at his offer. “that’s a deal, then. and lucky for you, i get off in about 20 minutes.” she patted the counter and straightened. “lemme finish up with my tables and we can catch up, okay?”

[duffree]

theothercasper‌:

casper was under his own strict orders not to go near the bookstore for the day.  his co-owner had things under control, and he wasn’t about to give any hints that would indicate he believed otherwise.  actually putting his own needs first was a weird and wild concept.

“hey, thanks.”  he smiled at duffy as he fiddled with the corner of his paper placemat, folding it to look like a dog ear. he liked her, and not just because she indulged him in his unhealthy eating habits.  “i told myself if I made it through the week, I’d give myself a metaphorical pat on the back. “   cas paused, genuinely considering her question. “scale of 1-10, duff, how worth it would it be to add on some chicken tenders?”

duffy liked it when casper was around. he was a calming presence—grounded her. “sure thing, cas,” she said with a soft smile, soft cheeks, soft gaze. she could melt into a meadow any day.

she leaned on her elbows, resting against the counter. “i’ll give you a real pat on the back, if you want,” she teased. conversation came easily with him. it didn’t always. some people found her weird.

“very worth it. we make some darn good tenders. should i put you in an order?”

[duffree]

quixoticquincy‌:

quincy turned over the book in his hand with a guilty smile, not liking the way his hands felt like TV static. like they were barely there and the book weighed the weight of the world. before he risked dropping it again. that wouldn’t exactly be the best way to start off with a customer, would it?

“as long as you’re fine, that’s the main thing. sorry, i’m gettin’ more and more clumsy.” he smiled back, nodding. “uh-huh, i sure do. my name’s quin, nice to meet’cha. anything i can help you with?”

she nodded along as he talked with that constant dreamland smile on her face. she jumped on his last sentence, even in the slow drawl that always dragged on her soft voice. “yeah, i was wondering if you’re selling those windchimes hanging in the window? they’re beautiful. i know it’s not a book, but... i really want ‘em.”

[duffree]

gotyourtongue‌:

–– @duffree​ !

look, they aren’t proud. but in a moment of weakness, during one of their diner hangouts… nyx might have… snatched a little pendant ‘n chain. they aren’t proud. but there’s still a residual thrill to it, the idea of having some piece of her in the back pocket of their levi’s. but they’re returning it. like. right now. an hour’s passed and they’re two milkshakes in, but damn it, they will ‘fess up. just… right after they finish watching duffy do that thing with the wires and the shiny stones one more time. nyx shifts their weight to retrieve the stolen goods, ballin’ them into a loose fist as duffy keeps on working, then takes an extra long slurp of their drink.

“ sorry, ”  they mumble, mouth still half full of vanilla. they plop the pendant onto the table and slide it closer to duffy’s workspace. apologies aren’t their forté. and maybe… maybe they’re not really that sorry. aurora ‘n nova just said they oughtta be.

“ it was real shiny, ”  they add in monotone. like that changes things.

duffy was lost in her work, stringing wire and coin together. her other scraps were laid out across the table, stretching all the way to nyx’s milkshake. duff was good with her hands, but never very tidy. she worked fast and soon enough had two bracelets done, and was thinking she’d make a couple rings next, when nyx broke the quiet with a little sorry.

duff looked up in surprise and a little smile poked at the corners of her mouth. “that’s one of my favorites. you can keep it if you want?”

[duffree]

@theothercasper​

duffy puffed out a breath, letting it take the stray hairs in her face with it as she made a shake with one hand and filled a plate of fries with the other. she made sure to put two cherries on top of a heaping pile of whipped cream instead of one, just because casper was one of her favorite customers.

he was shiny. like brooks. like her jewelry. except more human. “here you go,” she said cheerfully, laying his favorite “meal” down before him. “sure you don’t want anything else with that?”

[duffree]

quixoticquincy‌:

the book had been in his hand, he was sure of it. it was a thick book of poems, beautifully bound in a green hardcover with gold writing printed into the front. it had definitely been in his hand. except then it wasn’t. and he wasn’t alone in the bookstore. he watched as the book seemed to just tumble from his hand, right onto the foot of the other person in the aisle.

a gasp caught in his throat as he ducked down to grab it, struggling a moment before he focused and lifted it from the floor. “i’m so sorry! oh my gosh, i’m a total clutz lately. if it’s not books, it’s a glass or keys or pencils and paintbrushes.” he grimaced a little and looked up at the other. “is your foot okay?”

duffy wasn’t often in the bookstore—with one good eye left and very little education under her belt, she found reading difficult. not to mention boring. but she had seen a little trinket in the window that had caught her eye—wind chimes.

she loved wind chimes. they would have to sell them to her, even if they mainly sold books. that’s what she was busy thinking about when a book bumped her ratty old converse.

she smiled wide. “i’m fine. do you work here?”

[duffree]

homervnned‌:

brooks blinks at duffy like she’s got seven eyes instead of one. if she were anyone else, he might actually get up and leave this damned place. but duffy ?  duffy makes him stay. duffy makes him speak –– somehow.

“ fine. dandy. doin’ great, ”  he seethes through gritted teeth. brooks taps his fingertips against the table, spares a fleeting glance out the window. no orange. she’s gone. the damned bitch.

“ lovely mornin’. ”  hell, why’s he even pretending ?  she’s never fallen for his perturbed glossing before. “ how ‘bout you, duff ?  tell me ‘bout your day. make anythin’ jazzy lately ? ”  

he hopes she’ll go into somethin’ long. somethin’ to distract from the rage and fear and anguish twistin’ up in his chest.

there were always a few seconds where duffy thought he might not talk to her—or he’d tell her to leave him alone, or something. and even though he was always grumpy and gruff, he let her stay and she liked it. it was their diner on days like this.

“you’re just as crabby as usual, don’t lie to me,” she said cheerfully, unfazed. her current projects were sitting in her bag on the booth right next to her and she dug around for a new bracelet made of guitar strings to show him.

“pretty, right?” she said, dazzled by it even still.

[duffree]

homervnned‌:

–– @duffree​ !

he sees her. out the window. clear as day. same deep brown braid. same orange. knuckles white, brooks grips his coffee mug so tight the thing just might break. grits his teeth and grinds. he’s steeped so deep in his rage the slight shuffle of someone slidin’ into the booth across from him nearly vaults him off his seat.

“ fuck –– ”  he lets out a ragged sigh. coffee spills onto his hand and he makes no move to snag a napkin to sop up the scaldin’ mess. just shakes his wrist and lets it burn. his fingers keep shakin’ so he opens and closes them into a fist a few times, like that might neutralize the pain. another glance out the window confirms that orange bitch is gone. brooks turns to meet duffy’s gaze with lingering fire.

“ what. ”

duffy had the opening shift this morning, which she never minded. she liked getting up with the sun. it started the day right. but she was off now and she had the rest of the day free.

anything she wanted... and she wanted to sit down across from brooks. he was very interesting. there something shiny about him. and not in the way that usually caught her eye. this was something personal.

he was just different. she liked it. “good morning,” she greets him softly. “how are you?”

[duffree]

“Who was your first celebrity crush?”

[duffree]

I look at every experience as a learning experience. So, every day is like going back to school and negotiating the things you thought you knew with the new things that you’re learning and expanding your heart and mind. Your acting muscle is the muscle of empathy. I just feel like I’m working really hard, and I love it.

[duffree]

( victoria pedretti, werecrow, she/her & female ) is that ( shining star ) by ( earth, wind, & fire ) playing? ( dustin faith freely ) must be nearby!  heard folks say the ( twenty-one ) year old ( waitress / jewelry maker ) was at the thanksgiving fair, ( enjoying the shiny lights ) when chaos ensued. during the glitch, ( she flew to the top of the ferris wheel and watched the disaster unfold ).

dustin faith freely was early on named duff or duffy, a name her grandmother could stomach for a girl, when she went to live with her as an infant. dustin was the choice of addict parents from letum falls, oklahoma, but duffy was the pride and joy of an old lady living in san francisco.

that childhood was a happy one. never lonely, never lost, always loved and always looked after. until she was eight, and gramma had a heart attack.

she went from townhouse to trailer park, city to country, constant fog and random earthquakes to changing seasons and rowdy tornadoes.

mom and dad were often high and consistently neglectful, and no other adult seemed to care. they never made her go to school, so duffy wandered a lot—when she was hungry or tired or scared.

one day she tried to make friends with a wounded crow ( wanted connection ) she found hopping around on the sidewalk. turns out that crow didn’t like it very much, and she lost an eye that day… and became a werecrow.

she learned to lean into it. she wore an eyepatch as a kid, but when she turned 15 she got emancipated. started working at falls diner and saved up to get herself a fake eye.

every once in a while she popped it out, just to fuck with people who really deserved it. like the bullies who picked on her through high school for being trailer trash ( wanted connection )

she’s been waitressing at the diner for six years now and been saving up money to buy herself a little storefront for the jewelry she makes in her spare time. crows like shiny things, after all.

if you ask her about it, she’ll give you a piece for free.

[duffree]

sweetest psycho bean.

❥   like or reblog if you save.

© marvelphoria on twitter.

[duffree]

She refused to be bored, chiefly because she wasn’t boring.

Zelda Fitzgerald, Save Me The Waltz (via wordsnquotes)

[duffree]

[duffree]

Victoria Pedretti for V Magazine, 2019