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moral-turpitudes · 4 years ago

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Swan Lake:

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts

A/N: This idea came to me at like 3 am and idk why, it’s totally not canon or whatever but it was fun to write. I also don’t know anything about ballet so don’t come for my neck lol.

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Angst, Slight Mentions of/Implied Physical and Emotional Abuse, Descriptions of Death/Fighting etc.

Word Count: 3,977

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

+ Jack Timmons (OC, albeit a shitty one)

Requested: No

Summary: After constant threats of losing her position in a prominent ballet company, Y/N feels trapped in her circumstances. That is until an infamous blue-eyed gangster stumbles upon her one night, helping her leave her past behind, because sometimes that’s the best thing you can do.

“One, two, three. One, two, three.” Y/N counted to herself as she rehearsed in the quiet concert hall. Her nerves still a mess as the ear-splitting voice of her department head played on a loop in her mind. His harsh words stinging as she continued on.

With every leap and pirouette, her toes and tired muscles screamed to be free from their routine binds that held them together. Her corset digging into her skin, the paper thin pantyhose ripping on her knees from a nasty fall, and her feet cracking and bleeding with each new pair of ballet slippers she broke-in. On nights like this, she often questioned what she was doing this for. Was it for glory? For money? For distraction? It seemed only time could tell.

Unbeknownst to her, a man looked on from the dark entrance. A cigarette in hand as he observed her movements. His eyes alert as he’d heard a man yelling moments before.

Smoke escaped his lips as he watched in silence. The only music coming from inside the woman’s head, her body moving in strict motions to the beat she’d memorized from the orchestra that would usually play during shows. Her instructors voices in her head, threatening to fire her if she didn’t do better.

She never thought that something that brought her so much joy could bring her so much pain, but that seemed to be how things went in life, at least for her.

As she ended her dance, she sat on the cold stage, untying the stiff slippers and wincing as the fabric clung to her bloodied feet. No matter the cloth she put around them, she always found cuts and blisters ambushing her skin. This was the price she paid for perfection. Dancing was her “thing.” Her one gift to the world. The one thing that she’d always have, that no one could ever take away from her.

But with tear filled eyes she looked up at the spotlight beaming down on her, the makeup that was once well kept, slowly being washed away by the tears rushing down her cheeks.

As she ripped her gaze from the blinding light, she thought she felt eyes on her. Feverishly blinking the colorful spots on her vision away as she looked out into the empty seats, where a set of blue eyes stared back, their owner stoic and unmoving.

“Hello?” She asked, her heart racing slightly as she painstakingly walked off the stage and down the middle isle towards the man. Trying her best to wipe her tears away.

“Sorry to startle you miss. Just observing.” He said gruffly, cigarette smoke escaping his lips.

“Why are you here...? What’s your name...? Who do you work for...?” She asked in a barrage of questions, her nerves frazzled as she stood before him.

His blue eyes pierced hers as he took in the state of her. Elegantly hiding the pain behind a powder pink façade.

“I stopped in while on business and I heard yelling.” He said, adjusting his peaked cap, the razor blades glinting off the dull light from outside the theater.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she realized what gang he was a part of. Remembering talk around the city that they were moving in on London. Making threats and crashing party halls more often than not.

“Everything’s fine, sir.” She said, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

“You don’t look fine.” He said.

“You haven’t answered my questions, sir.” She said, deflecting his comments and looking at him skeptically. With a sigh, and a long drag from his cigarette, he spoke.

“My name is Thomas, Thomas Shelby. But you can call me Tommy if you like...” He said walking towards her. Her heart racing slightly as she stood in place.

“...and I’m a man who does bad things. But don’t worry love, I have no bad business with you.” He said, gradually walking towards door.

“Wait....” She said, looking around the empty theater nervously as he stopped in his tracks.

“Why exactly were you watching me?” She asked, walking to him.

He sighed as the cigarette burnt down to the last little bit, ending with him throwing it on the tiled floor and stomping it out.

“I wanted to make sure you were alright....and then I saw you dancing to no music. It intrigued me.” He said flatly.

“How so?” She said, crossing her arms at the infamous gang leader.

“Because I can hear it too.” He said.

“You memorized the song? How? You haven’t seen the show.” She said, walking down the stairs with the mysterious man.

“My mother used to play it at home and she’d dance, quite like you. I recognized the routine.” He said, standing near the exit. The streets bustling with people under the moonlit sky.

“You don’t look like someone who listens to music. Do you dance?” She asked, beguiled by the rather handsome blinder.

“I liked a lot of things before the war. Dancing was one of them. But now?.....No.” he said shaking his head slightly as he continued.

“Sometimes life has a way of taking things from us.” He said softly, lighting another cigarette as he stood before her.

“That it does.” She said, glancing at her tired hands as he observed her once more, how she stood and how her hair fell limply around her face, framing it ever so gently.

“I’m probably overstepping my bounds...Tommy. But uh, if you’re ever in need of dancing lessons...I can help. Free of charge.” She said, the thought escaping her lips on a whim. Her mind racing with wanting to dance anywhere but there in that dreadful theater.

“Free of charge aye? Do you make a lot at these shows?” He asked, his eyes boring into hers.

“No. I’m actually on my way out. Was almost fired for the last show. I wasn’t good enough.” She said looking down.

“That’s a shame. I thought you did great.” He said.

“Tell that to the department head. I’m tired of ruining my body for something that doesn’t pay. I’d rather do it for fun. At least then life might be worth living.” She said, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her pent up feelings slowly trickling out as the minutes passed.

“What do you do for fun, Tommy?” She asked, changing the subject.

He stood in thought, never really taking into account anything besides the noise in his head or the ache in his heart. Never giving himself the time for anything reminiscent of fun.

“I uh, work with horses I guess.” He said.

She nodded and sat in a chair near the exit, wincing and fiddling with the tulle of her tutu.

“So what do you say? Dancing or no?” She asked, a small smirk playing at her lips.

“I’ll accept your offer, on two conditions.” He said.

“Alright, what are your conditions oh infamous Mr. Shelby?” She asked, seeing a small smirk on his face. One that seemed to be uncomfortable, like it had been hidden for years.

“That you give me the name of your department head, and let me employ you.” He said bluntly.

“I’m not a killer, I’m just a dancer.” She said, looking down at her wrists. Bruises forming from many routines throughout the week and from her vile department head.

“You won’t deal with that kind of business. But I’d like to pay you. I can see that you work hard for what you want.” He said sitting next to her.

“You want me to dance for you? What like at some whore house?” She scoffed.

“No. You can dance for fun or teach or whatever it is you want to do. But a job with me, in my shop, can bring you the money you’re looking for. You won’t have to beat yourself up anymore.” He said, noticing the bruising hand prints around her wrists.

“I’ll think about it.” She said quietly, getting up and stretching out her arms, her muscles aching at the movement. Thomas headed towards the door abruptly, not wanting to keep her any longer considering he’d given orders to his brothers a while ago.

“Hey...” She said, stopping him.

“Mhmm?” He mumbled, lighting another cigarette.

“His name is Mr. Timmons. Jack Timmons. I hope you find him.” She said giving him a small, hurting smile before heading back towards the theater.

“Oh and miss?” He called back, making her turn around.

“Yes?”

“I never got your name.” He said.

“It’s Y/N...Y/N Y/L/N.” she said. Thomas nodded and reluctantly turned around, walking slowly into the night the next man on his hit list already buzzing through his mind.

As he stepped onto the cold London streets, he saw his brothers drinking and waiting by the car. Their faces covered in smoke-residue from their mission.

“Oi! What the fuck took you so long aye? We torched the bar down the road so we need to go.” Arthur said, taking a swig from a bottle of whiskey he’d stolen.

“I was doing a bit of legitimate business. Did you lot get the money?” He asked, revving the engine and peeling out onto the cold, damp roads towards Small Heath.

“Yeah. Got the whole thing. They won’t mess with us again. What kind of business were you doing in a fucking theater?” Arthur asked.

“Probably fucking one of the dancers.” John said, the toothpick dangling precariously on the edge of his mouth.

“I saw people leaving the show and decided to go there to clean off from our last raid. And I heard a man yelling at some woman there. He’s uh, been a bit of a problem but I can’t tell by how much just yet. He’s been working the woman to death for little pay...so I offered her a spot here.” He said.

“Why are you so caught up on the woman? What, is she gonna dance around the shop all day?” John asked, earning a chuckle from a drunken Arthur.

“I’m thinking she’d make a good assistant. I watched her after he left. She was the only one there, working on the same routine for an hour straight. Was bleeding by the time she was done.” He said.

“Well besides the woman, what are you wanting to do with the man aye? We’ve caused enough trouble here so far.” John said.

“I have a feeling this man is abusing the whole company or at least the woman I spoke to. She’s miserable, you can see it in her eyes. I only saw eyes like that in the trenches.” He said quietly, looking out at the sky through the thin windshield.

Over the next few days, it seemed her plight only grew as the dancers rehearsed, their instructors criticizing more than helping them as they moved to the beat. Y/N’s eyes fearful as their department head entered the room. The music stopping as they all sat on the stage as instructed.

Behind the stage, Thomas watched silently as the instructor eyed the women. The mans eyes only seeing money and fame instead of them as people. But his gaze seemed reserved for Y/N especially.

She was bruised from the repeated practice, the falls, and from the mans calloused hands that beat her beyond the theater walls. Threatening to fire her if she didn’t improve. Claiming he was “trying to save the company’s image.” Telling her she’d be working the streets in no time if she failed again.

Even though she tried her best, often putting in more work than her peers, it still wasn’t enough for Mr. Timmons and his dreadful company. The only thing getting her by was knowing that after the big show, things would settle down, knowing he’d go back to just yelling at her and occasionally at the others, instead of talking with his fists. But the pay remained the same, barely keeping a roof over her head throughout the years.

“Y/N, I’ve seen your performances these past few weeks and they’re all the same. The turns are too loose, your footing is off, and you’re out of step with the others. I don’t see why you can’t do better.” He said loudly as she stared him down. White-hot tears brimmed in her eyes as her face heated up in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. None the wiser to the blinder who’d watched it all unfold.

“Meet me backstage after this will ya? We have to discuss some matters over your position here.” He said, walking to the next girl and nodding his head. He moved on from each person giving small snide remarks, but they were nothing compared to what she’d gotten, and it filled her with rage. With a sigh, she wiped her tears and stood up. Decided then and there that she’d walk out. To make a scene like she’d dreamt to during the 5 years she’d worked there.

“Mr. Timmons...the only thing you’ll be doing backstage is shoving these up your ass.” She said, chucking the bloodied ballet slippers at him before exiting the stage and going to her dressing room, locking the door.

Thomas watched silently until Mr. Timmons excused the rest of them, leaving only him and the poor excuse for a man in the dimly lit area back stage.

As the man walked with a master key towards Y/N’s dressing room, Thomas quickly came up behind him. Hitting him in the back of the head with his gun and wrestling him to the floor. The man screaming through a bloodied mouth as he landed punch after punch to his face. Thomas soon removing his cap and slicing the mans eyes, blinding him instantly before shooting him.

Y/N watched from the doorway, dressed from head to toe in her normal clothes she’d came in with. Her eyes red and swollen from crying and her body aching from the mornings work.

She stood there silently, the sight of the man who tormented her making her smile slightly as she realized she was free of him.

“Y/N....” Thomas said, wiping the blood from his face as best he could as he stood up from the mans limp body.

“Thank you.” She said, sniffling a bit as she kept her tears at bay this time. Walking quickly out the door to the outside of the building, the cars whizzing by as the cold wind crept through her clothes.

Thomas quickly draped a nearby blanket over Timmons’ body, dragging it to the dressing room. But before leaving he retrieved the master key from his limp hand, locking the dead man inside as he cleaned up the mess from his handy-work.

As he looked in the bathroom mirror minutes later, he could see the blood on his skin, the metallic smell barely phasing him as he washed it down the drain. After cleaning up, he headed out the door, finding Y/N sitting on the pavement smoking a cigarette.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked, sitting by her and lighting his own, his hands bleeding slightly from the blows to Timmons’ face.

“Why not.” She said, fiddling with a pink ribbon in her hands that once kept her hair tightly in place.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He said, sighing as he looked out at the mid afternoon sky. The city bustling around them.

“It’s alright. I’ve wanted that to happen for 5 years. Don’t worry though, after knowing him, nothing really scares me.” She said with a small smile, relief finally hitting her as she realized she’d probably never have to face the man again.

“He’s dead though right? Like you made sure he’s never coming back?” She asked, her eyes still nervously scanning the roads out of habit as the doubt crept in.

“He’s never coming back. I’m burying him tonight.” He said.

“Make sure it’s deep.” She said, the bruises on her wrists more prominent in the daylight.

“Always do.” He said looking at her wrists with a clenched jaw. Knowing full well Timmons was behind it.

“I’ve uh, thought about your offer by the way.” She said looking down at the ribbon.

“You have aye?” He asked, flicking the ash from his cigarette. Her voice bringing him out of his thoughts a bit.

“Yeah. I’d like to try it out, if you’d still want me there. I don’t know what a ballerina could offer the company but, it beats where I was.” She said, cringing internally at all the painful memories which unfortunately often overshadowed the good ones.

“I’ve seen you work hard so far, so I figured making you my assistant would be a good position. You’ll come in at 8, and leave by 6 on most days.” He said.

“Most days? What happens on the other days?” She asked.

“On those days you keep busy so you don’t think about how or if we’ll return. You’ll help keep the shop in line along with my aunt Polly until one of us walks through the door. For your safety.” He said.

“Do all the assistants and secretaries work that late?” She asked.

“Only on those nights they do.” He said.

“Alright. May I ask one question?” She said.

“Mhmm.” He mumbled, blowing smoke from his lips. He stared at her while she thought over her words, her eyes not as miserable as before.

It made him feel better knowing that even though he couldn’t save the men in the trenches, he could at least save her. Someone who shared their same eyes, their same exhaustion, their same fear of not knowing what was next.

“Why me? You could hire anyone else. Any other woman for that matter. But you chose me...” She said, putting her cigarette out on the damp dirt road.

Thomas sighed for a moment, not wanting to tell her he couldn’t help but fall for a beautiful woman even though they’d just met. No matter her profession, he didn’t expect a ballet dancer to steal his heart so quickly and effortlessly.

“I could see you were different.” He said.

“How so?” She asked, his answer not enough as she looked into his eyes. They were like looking into the ocean, threatening to pull her under.

“When I came in after doing some business and saw you there practicing, you intrigued me. You were dancing with no music, but still trying no matter what happened.” He said.

“You saw me fall aye?” She said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, but I also saw what you did after....It’s always about what someone does after the fall, that makes a person who they are. I guess I chose you because you didn’t give up.” He said.

“And I thought it was because I was wearing a pretty pink ballet costume.” She said, smirking.

“That might also be a reason.” He said with a smirk. After a long pause, he spoke again, this time more quietly.

“For the record Y/N, I truly don’t see why the others treated you like they did....But I won’t hurt you. I promise.” He said.

“A man like you making promises? That’s a bold move.” She said, her heart racing as she held his hand gently, nervous to touch someone in a way that wasn’t done in self defense.

“I’m a bold man.” He said, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

“Oh really?” She said with a smirk.

“I can show you.” He said, leaning towards her as she did the same. She couldn’t help but feel differently towards him. He didn’t make her feel scared or on-edge like so many people before her. Instead oddly enough, the dashing blinder made her feel safe.

It was in that moment that he too realized he hadn’t felt this way in a while, since before the war. The only comfort he’d ever found previously was at the bottom of a bottle or beneath the sheets in a brothel. The feelings felt out of place, the noise from the war competing with the song in his head, the same one from her shows. The same one from years ago at home.

With a calloused hand, he caressed her cheek, looking into her as eyes as the sun shined into them. Their color illuminated by its rays as he brought her lips to his, a wave of relief washing over him as he felt her relax into the kiss instead of pulling away.

“So...when do I start?” She asked after he broke the kiss, her eyes trailing to his lips.

“Tomorrow. I can pick you up.” He said.

“Won’t you be tired from burying Mr. Timmons? I can drive myself.” She said.

“It’s not my first time burying someone love. I’ll swing by in the morning.” He said, getting up.

“Alright...see you then.” She said, a genuine grin forming on her face for what felt like the first time in years as she watched him head off towards his car.

Over the next few weeks, she became acquainted with everyone in the shop. Polly taking a special liking to her as she loved dancing as well.

“You’ll never catch me dancing ballet. Maybe a waltz but never ballet.” She said one morning.

“I can teach you, it’ll do you some good. Keep you strong.” Y/N said, thinking about how she’d get by with teaching in her cramped apartment.

“Tommy taking classes from you yet?” She asked with a smirk.

“God no. I think he only said that to get me working for him.” She said, thinking back to his first deal with her.

“What are you two talking about aye? We have work to do.” Tommy said, walking into his office where they sat in his chairs nonchalantly.

“Pol was just asking me if I’d taught you to dance yet. You did say you used to...but there would be no ballet of course.” She said, smirking at him as she blew smoke from her lips.

“Well, I have business at the races soon so I guess you’ll have to teach me. Especially since I’ll need someone to accompany me.” He said.

“I never thought you’d ask. What shall I wear?” She asked.

“Something red.” He said, giving her a peck on the cheek before heading out the door.

Their banter carried on like this months after her employment. The only thing different though was where she stayed. Everyone knew he’d had the hots for the woman as soon as he laid eyes on her in the theater. John joking that going to London was the best decision Tommy had ever made. Seeing as she helped him find himself again even if it was just in simple ways. From the nights spent keeping the sounds of the shovels at bay, to the weekends spent helping him learn a few dances. They both healed each other with each step. He never thought he would enjoy dancing or even something as simple as sleeping ever again, but she helped him and he helped her, and he felt the only way to pay her back was to help her still live out her dreams. Eventually converting one of their many rooms into a dance studio, where she’d help teach children on the side, without mean words and harsh fists beating her down.

By this time, she finally knew what she was dancing for, or more so who. And it pleased Thomas to see the life finally return to her eyes as she did so. Knowing that one of the best decisions she made was to dance for herself. Even if it didn’t garner any grand applause, she knew she had people who cared, and who saw the value in what she did, considering it was her gift to the world after all. Even if it was the gangly Shelby family as her audience, she knew it was better than any theater.

Thomas Shelby Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy,@dreamwastakenx,

@lovemissyhoneybee @thomashelbyswhore, @xxbeckybeexx-blog

If you’d like to be added or removed, just send an ask/message! :)

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagines #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x female!reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby

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joonie-beanie · 5 years ago

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The OM! Characters as Retail Workers/Positions from my old job

Full disclosure: I’ve only had 1 retail job, and it was at a Homegoods. I worked there for 3+ years during college. Because I’ve only had this one experience, my below hc’s for the boys may be a little...specific to my previous job, and not universal traits that come with all retail jobs.

Also I’m not including Luke because thattttt is child labor.

This is probably a very self-indulgent headcannon. Oh well.

Lucifer:

(One of) the store managers. Specifically the assistant manager.

Nice to customers to their face, but will fantasize about stabbing them once they leave.

Asmo once walked past the manager’s office and witnessed Lucifer professionally apologizing to a bitching customer over the phone, only to slam the receiver down moments later, sighing and mumbling “what an idiot.”

Very watchful of his staff. Do not slack off while he’s working....unless he likes you. In which case, he will take a moment to chat with you and give himself a much needed break.

If he doesn’t like you, well...make yourself busy, or else you’ll get a stern talking to, and likely written up. Lucifer already has too much work to get done--he doesn’t want to babysit his staff.

Quietly schedules the people he likes to work during his shifts whenever he can, since he knows he can trust them to do their work. Not to mention, he enjoys their company a lot.

His favorite crew to have is Beel, Asmo, and Satan (and MC). Their schedules, of course, don’t always line up, but when they do he seriously thinks that he has the dream team.

Mammon:

Cannot be trusted to actually organize the store, so he gets stuck at the registers.

However, the managers quickly realize that he's shit at anything front-end related aside from counting money (the man likes his money), and that he's prone to pulling out his phone when no one is around, so Lucifer forces him to work the floor.

They start trying to give him more backroom shifts (because if he's not doing his work, they'll be able to tell easier).

HOWEVER--because Mammon is such a money lover, he’s very aware of every piece of expensive merchandise in the store. So if a customer attempts to switch tags, or peels the price tag off hoping to pull a quick one on the cashier, his coworkers always call him up so he can take a look.

Seriously, the amount of people that try to buy the $100+ gem rocks for $9.99 is crazy.

He feels very proud of himself whenever he manages to stop a customer from getting away with it.

He’s not the best worker in general, but the mangers would be lying if the said they didn’t appreciate his knack for remembering the expensive items.

Levi:

Cash office.

Prefers to sit in the locked office by himself, listening to music on his phone as he runs checks the register balances from the previous day.

If he's not doing cash office, he's probably out gathering carts, or compacting boxes in the back.

Whatever keeps him away from the bulk of customers.

Whenever the managers need him to go help out on the floor, he gets permission to not wear his apron.

He seriously does not want anyone to talk to him. He just wants to work in peace.

Of course, if he’s seen organizing, or stocking shelves, customers tend to assume he’s an employee anyway--even without the apron.

Levi legitimately jumps anytime someone calls out to him and asks if he works there, and if he can help them.

Oh, and he always brings his Switch to work and plays games on his lunch break. Do not talk to him if he’s playing his game--he will get mad at you.

Satan:

Flow & mark-downs.

He's basically an all-rounder, but is superior to the others in putting out new merchandise (flow). He knows where things go, and how they should be organized.

Secretly gets annoyed when customers ask him for help when he's in the zone, but is very good at faking a smile.

Will do what’s asked of him without any lip in return.

However, rude customers should beware of him, because his anger tends to flip on like a switch. If a customer is badmouthing him, or one of his coworkers--he has no issue telling them they’re a fool, and that they should just leave instead of causing issues.

He gets in trouble with management for doing this, but honestly has no regrets.

Definitely has regular customers that he is enemies with.

Gets left in charge of the store if the managers ever need to step away for their lunch break, or otherwise.

Asmo:

Lead cashier.

Super charming, great customer service voice.

Always gives a good impression on the phone, and manages to make peppy announcements.

If there’s ever a fundraiser going on, and the cashiers are supposed to ask for donations, Asmo is guaranteed to rake in the most.

He is very good at calming a customer if they're upset--apologizing and and being so sweet and polite that it’s nearly impossible to stay mad.

However, if they're rude to him, or his apologies go on deaf ears, he has no problem politely telling them to fuck off.

If he’s not at the registers, he’s probably off in the bath section--smelling soap--or the candle section--sniffing literally every candle in existence.

He’ll also be sure to get a whiff of whatever candle/soap a customer has brought to the register to purchase.

Runs off to visit other stores in the mall/strip when he’s on his break. (Aka. he spends way too much of his paycheck shopping).

Beel:

Back room - heavy lifter.

Dude spends most of the day in the stock room emptying the truck and building furniture.

Seriously can move big things with very little effort. He once carried an entire couch out onto the sales floor buy himself.

While other coworkers may need to use carts or flatbeds to move larger items, Beel can legit just throw them over his shoulder and continue on his way like he’s not carrying anything at all.

He looks intimidating but is actually super friendly.

Will always work extra hours if you ask him to. Will also come in for extra shifts if you ask him to.

He always feels so guilty if he can’t accept, or needs to call off.

The type of coworker that goes out to buy snacks on his break, and ends up buy snacks for the rest of the staff. He just leaves them on the break room table with a note that says “Eat up :)”

Belphie:

Closer - Sales Floor.

The managers tried to work him on morning or midday shifts, but he was continuously too groggy, and ended up knocking things over on accident.

Hes more energetic at night, so they put him on the sales floor (since he’s honestly...not the best at the register. Don’t get me wrong, he can work the register as well as anyone else, but...he just...doesn’t sound friendly. (Lucifer: “Belphie...at least try to sound like you’re not working here against your will when talking to the customers. You applied for this job.”))

He honestly doesn't mind organizing merchandise, but gets annoyed if he ends up doing the bulk of the work. (Whether it’s because they’re short staffed, or because his coworkers are slacking).

Has no problem telling customers to gtfo when it’s closing time.

If people are still in the store 5 minutes after closing, he’ll follow them around until they finally take the hint and leave.

Always stops for fast food on his way home after work because making himself a meal sounds like too much effort.

Diavolo:

Store Manager.

Is very kind to all of his employees, but will also have hard conversations with them if there’s an issue regarding their performance that needs to be addressed.

However, he always does his best to maintain good relationships with everyone he works with.

Will buy lunch for the staff on busy weekends, even if he has to pay for the food himself. He wants to let his employees know that they’re appreciated, and while he’s the type to give verbal affirmation of a job well done, a luncheon doesn’t hurt either.

Even if customers are bitchy, he never raises his voice, or yells. He handles complaints like a champ.

If the customer physically or verbally abuses one of his workers, however...he will threaten to call the police. Do not fuck with his work children.

If his employees ever find him sighing, or looking like he’s stressed, then they know he’s definitely having a rough day. Please work hard, and help him out, and he’ll very much appreciate it.

Barbatos:

The 4th key. (Basically a manager)

Some workers are scared of him because he always seems to be in a good mood--even if the store is packed, and things get overwhelming.

A very by-the-book type. While Lucifer and Diavolo may allow for some things to get overlooked, or for there to be a lapse in proper procedure, Barbatos is not like that. Rules are rules, and they shall be followed.

Honestly is a very nice guy, but working a closing shift with him can be the worst. Especially if Diavolo is the opening manager the next day.

He will keep his staff there after closing as long as he needs to for the store to be in an acceptable condition. (The worst part is that Diavolo honestly is so easy going that if Barbatos had just opted to say “we were very busy and didn’t have the time to get everything done”, Diavolo wouldn’t blame him. Shit gets crazy).

Alas, Barbatos wants to please Diavolo and takes his role very seriously.

At least he brings in homemade baked goods for the staff sometimes. (His good cooking usually makes up for all the times he has kept them late).

Solomon:

Another all rounder. Usually get scheduled on midday shifts to bridge the gap between the openers, and closers.

Is very good at keeping up his “customer service” facade.

However, once there are no customers around his smile will fall, and he’ll mumble complaints under his breath.

“Why does one couple need 15 candles?” “Lady, I don’t care about your chihuahua’s sleeping habits--just buy the pet bed already.”

Will always tease his coworkers if he gets along with them. Bickering with Solomon can become a very entertaining past time if he likes you.

Whenever new crystals, or rocks come in, usually he’ll spend a while inspecting them. Apparently he can tell which ones are real, or fake. (And he always ends up buying the real ones).

He’s the type of coworker that will sneak up behind you and scare you when you’re not paying attention. Just because he can. (Fight him, he loves it).

Simeon:

One of the sweetest staff members, but he’s prone to getting flustered and making mistakes.

If he’s on registers, he’s so busy trying to start a conversation with the customer that he’ll short them on their change.

Luckily, the customer is either patient in waiting for the manager to come up and open the register, or doesn’t care about the 22 cents Simeon forgot to give them.

He loves reorganizing the towel section of the store the most. Getting to stand there and refold towels almost feels like meditation to him.

Always goes out of his way to ask the customer if he can help them with anything, or if they’re finding everything alright.

Is prone to accidentally cutting himself when something sharp breaks. (It has literally gotten to the point where if a ceramic plate or something glass breaks, the managers have instructed Simeon to call someone else to clean it up, rather than doing it himself.)

Honestly, in the end, he’s a fabulous worker tho.

#i have so many stupid stories from my retail job lmao #om!#obey me #obey me headcanons #lucifer #mammon #levi #leviathan #satan #asmo #asmodeus #beel #beelzebub #belphie #belphegor #diavolo #barbatos #simeon #solomon

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queerasaurus-rexx · 4 years ago

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Pro-Tips For Surviving The Holidays

Take it from someone whose extended family is chaotic, loud and occasionally extremely bigoted. The Key Is To Keep Busy.

I know what you’re thinking. ‘But What is there for me to do?’

You would be surprised at the little things which can take you entirely out of a situation. Little tasks and chores that keep you away from your relatives without being called ‘Antisocial’ Include:

Walking The Dogs - These guys have to be looked after too! Taking them out for walks, or just outside for a bit to de-stress them is good for them and you! You’re doing your part to keep the house calm.

Looking After Babies / Young Children - Young Kids and babies need extra attention, so if you’re preoccupied keeping them busy / putting them down for naps / changing diapers / feeding them, you can easily tune out your uncle’s tirades about gays and immigrants!

Parking / Moving Cars - If you have your license, parking and moving cars is an easy distraction. Your relatives can go inside while you park their car. Plus, this prevents accidents, because you probably know your driveway really well and can avoid problem spots. Plus, if you live downtown and have parking meters or time limits on parking, you can just leave mid-conversation to move your bitchy aunt’s Oldsmobile! Filling parking meters is also a good distraction and avoids tickets.

Cook / Help With Cooking - When you’re the cook, you get to shoo everyone from the kitchen! That includes your white supremacist cousins! The sound of food cooking and preparation will tune out almost all conversation and you can legitimately yell at people for bothering you (”Do you want dinner or not?”)

Go Out For Snacks / Liquor / Last Minute Errands - You can leave the house this way! Right out of the house and no one can yell at you for it! Even if it’s just across the street for a few minutes, a few minutes of reprieve is great! Obviously only buy liquor if you’re of age, but you can interact with other humans who aren’t related to you! Most stores are open for at least a few hours on Christmas, so you can even get away with it then.

Open A Last Minute Gift Wrapping Station - I’ll bet you have at least one relative who forgets to wrap last minute presents at Christmas. Just let your relatives know ahead of time, and have them drop off any unwrapped gifts (of course, not ones that are for you) in a room a bit removed from everyone. You can listen to music and wrap gifts in peace.

Offer To Move Bags - If You’ve got relatives staying with you for the holidays, offer to put their bags in the guest room or whichever room they’ll be in. Like I said, it may only be a few minutes reprieve, but it’s worth it.

And if you absolutely cannot get away - REMEMBER THAT THE HOLIDAYS WILL END. I know it feels like an eternity when you’re in it, but you will get through this!

#holiday advice #holiday tips #surviving holidays #family troubles

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sineala · 4 years ago

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Hey! I know you've received asks about long distance relationships before but I hope you don't mind if I ask, too :) The thing is a bit complicated and I need some advice, and your story is just so beautiful I'm like, "please adopt me!!" There's this person on tumblr whom I have a crush on, sort of: we've never actually interacted because I don't have a tumblr account but she posts a lot of things I love and info on herself too, so I feel like I know her. 1/2

2/2 I'm ace and never dated, which is a problem because I don't really know what to do, and I'm also very shy, but... the question is... what can I do? i can't just send her a message and say, "I have a crush on you, but you don't know anything of me. Can we try to date?" But on the other hand I really don't know how to start talking to her... :( sorry, I'm just an awkward human being... and thank you for listening to my problems! But of course feel free to ignore me. Take care ❤️

Okay. Wow. This is a lot, anon. I had to think for a while about how to say this as nicely as I possibly can, but: I don't think you should do what you're asking me how to do. At all. I don't think your feelings are bad or wrong or invalid, and I get why you feel the way you do, but there's really not a good, kind, or fair way to get the outcome that you want. You can try to make friends with her if you legitimately want to be friends with her, but you can't be friends with her for the purpose of dating her.

I have more to say under the Read More.

You might find it helpful to read something about the concept of parasocial relationships. The tl;dr version is that parasocial relationships are relationships that an audience experiences with people like celebrities or performers. You, the audience member, don't actually interact personally with the person you have this parasocial relationship with -- everything you know about them is because you actually know the persona they are adopting for public consumption, rather than the person themselves -- but you feel like you know them anyway.

I'm not saying that parasocial relationships are bad. They can be good! They can be positive! I'm pretty sure we all have them. Heck, media fandom is basically us having massive numbers of parasocial relationships with fictional characters! Parasocial relationships can be great and inspiring! Having a favorite character or a favorite celebrity can make you really happy! Do I have parasocial relationships too? Yeah, sure, you bet. The Goodreads review I have that has garnered the most likes is the one that is approximately 50% me explaining that I have a giant crush on Rachel Maddow. I have never met Rachel Maddow. I obviously do not know the real Rachel Maddow, and I would not want to actually for-real date her even if both of us were single. I can just be happy reading her books and watching her TV show. There's a video game I like to play, Slay The Spire, and I have a favorite Slay The Spire streamer on Twitch, and at this point I have probably watched hundreds of hours of this dude playing video games, and because of that, I know a lot of random facts about this guy's life. Does he seem like he'd be cool to hang out with? Yeah, sure. Have I ever interacted with him in any way other than subscribing to his YouTube channel? Nope! I don't even have a Twitch account! Do I know him as a person? Absolutely not.

I'm saying all this because social media is a place you can have parasocial relationships, and the relationship you have with this Tumblr user is parasocial. (Incidentally, the relationship you have with me is also parasocial; I mention this because I feel like you should know that asking me to adopt you is coming on a little too strong, as an opening interaction. I don't mean to make you feel bad about this, and I'm sorry if I have, but since you're asking about how to interact with people you've never spoken to before, you should probably know that.)

It basically comes down to this: you don't actually know this person, but you feel like you do because you've read her Tumblr. I'm not saying that's a bad thing. That's not a criticism. That's not a value judgment. I mean, technically, you don't know me either. That's just not the kind of relationship that I have with you, or that you have with her. It's parasocial, not reciprocal. And you really need to keep that in mind.

Can you form reciprocal relationships with people you have parasocial relationships with? I mean, yeah, maybe, depending on the person. And the answer to how you do that is basically the answer to the question "how do you make friends with people?" -- and it seems like you might like advice about that, since you said you were shy, You talk to someone about mutual interests that you both enjoy. You hang out. Maybe in RL in Better Times you meet up and go get lunch together. These days on the internet I make most of my internet friends by (1) squeeing back and forth at them about whatever fic they wrote and clogging up their AO3 comments until we take it to email, (2) yelling about fandom on Discord until we mutually discover we are like-minded enough to start yelling at each other in DMs directly, and (3) murdering them in games of Among Us and then lying about it. (Games are a bonding experience.)

You listen well, you share some things about yourself because that's what friends do and if the other person wants to be your friend they will share things back -- or maybe they will share things first, if they decide they want to be friends first. This is how we humans like to bond with each other. I feel like I am not very good at this friend-making thing, so I am not sure I am the best person to ask for tips. But that is basically how it works.

Can you be friends with this person? Maybe. I don't know. You can try. But what I do know is that you absolutely should not try to be friends with her with the intention of dating her. People don't like when they think someone is friends with them because they want something from them, and, generally, people really really don't like when someone is friends with them when the thing they want from them is a romantic relationship. You know how you hear people (usually straight guys) talk about being "friendzoned?" They're upset because they're friends with a woman they want to date and the woman sees them as only a friend. That is the realm your proposed interaction is adjacent to, and that is not a good place to be. Don't be like one of those guys.

I think you should ask yourself if you would be happy being friends with this person if there were zero possibility of romance with her. If you would be happy being just friends. And be honest with yourself. If, after some soul-searching, you decide that, yeah, you would feel 100% satisfied just being her friend if nothing else ever happened (and you have to honestly believe this), then and only then should you try talking to her.

What should you talk about? I don't know; you must have something in common. I have made friends with people because we both enjoyed Avengers volume 3 and classic Star Trek. I made friends with a bunch of people in college because we all liked to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Smallville. I have made friends with people because I told them I liked the book they were reading or the pins on their backpack. I have made friends with people because we both were in the same science-fiction online roleplaying group as teenagers and it turned out twenty years later we were sharing a fandom, we now lived in the same state, and we also liked the same folk music! I made friends with my wife because I wanted to complain to her about a Due South fanfic I was reading and she didn't like it either and then I was translating a text for class that was in Ancient Egyptian and the footnotes were in German and I didn't know German (and still don't) but I knew she did. At that point I had absolutely no clue there would be any romance involved there; I just thought she was really cool and she seemed to think I was cool and then we just kept talking.

So, y'know, maybe, if you just want to be her friend, you can try to do that. You can find out if you actually like her as an actual, real person. But you have to want to just be friends.

But if you think you'd be unhappy if you were just friends with her, you absolutely should not try to be friends with her, because that would be misrepresenting what you want and it would also be very unfair to her.

(Edited to add: I guess the other option is that you could, in fact, just be like, “Hey, I have a crush on you,” which would be both honest and forthright -- but I feel like that has a very, very low chance of working. Hence all the other advice.)

I hope that helps.

#Anonymous #replies

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microsuedemouse · 4 years ago

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9, 16 and 18 !

you always ask questions. you're my favourite mutual. ily

9. favourite brand of clothing?

(did I adjust the spelling in this question to non-American English? yes I did)

MOKUYOBI, without a single doubt!! This brand makes me feel more like myself than almost anything else. It's a splurge (mostly bc of shipping to Canada... curse you, customs charges) but I usually aim to grab stuff on sale, and it's worth it once or maybe twice a year. It's got the colour palettes I love so much combined with casual shapes and styles!! I don't love dressing in girly clothes but it's often hard to find my favourite bright colours in more androgynous styles.

I'm wearing a Mokuyobi t-shirt right now!!

16. if you had to get a tattoo right now, what would you get and where?

yells I've wanted to get another tattoo basically since I walked out with my first one, if I'm honest. I was so nervous going in, bc I'd wanted this tattoo for years at that point but I'm a big baby? but by the time it was done I was like. Oh. I Get why people get addicted to this, actually.

tattoo in question, though I actually think it looks even better now, having healed further:

...which is. a line from one of my favourite songs by my favourite band, flor. this particular line resonates with me a lot and means a lot to me. (the line is actually 'all this joy out of the ashes,' but we don't talk about that.)

anyway, all of that being a needlessly long lead-up to: if I were to get another tattoo right now. there are lots of things I want tattooed, but only a couple things I have specific design plans for, and one of those is also flor-related. the second time I ever went to see them, I was on my own and had been through a Rough Few Months, and wound up sitting in a back corner of the venue in tears after the show, just from being so overwhelmed. their frontman, Zach, who is The Sweetest Human Man Who Ever Lived, quit helping the others tear down (lol) to come sit with me until I was okay. this was only the second time he'd ever met me!! but he came and hugged me and just, made sure I was all right. at one point I told him, "you guys got me through so much this last year."

corny as it is, Zach's response was something I will never ever forget, because it meant so much, especially coming from him - someone who was such a comfort to me as a musician, but who scarcely knew me as a person and was still looking out for me in that moment regardless. he told me simply: "you got yourself through so much. we just helped."

I still think about that all the time. I cannot overstate how much it meant to me. so I've long considered having it tattooed, as well. Zach has continued to be unbelievably sweet and friendly every time I've seen him, and the last time I did so - back in fall of '19, which is TOO LONG AGO - I asked him to write those words down in a notebook for me: "you got yourself through so much." he actually wrote it twice after worrying that the first was too messy lol.

so. one of these days, I'm going to have those words tattooed onto me, in his handwriting. I've thought about putting them on the other forearm, but I have another idea for that one too - a line from a different song, one of my favourites from my other all-time favourite band, Motion City Soundtrack. I think it would be cool to have lines from two different songs that are really special to me, in the same font, in symmetrical spots? (also the line is "it's a pleasure to meet you" and would be on my right forearm and it chuffs me a little to imagine handshakes with that there, hah.) anyway, as a result I'm still not 100% certain where I would put "you got yourself through so much" - possibly underneath the ashes tattoo, where I can always see it. back of the shoulder is also a possibility but I like the idea of it being somewhere easy for me to look at.

GOD JESUS that was a long answer. I am so sorry. this is the problem when anything gets me talking about flor.

18. rant about your favourite musician

L M F A O I DID NOT READ AHEAD ON THESE QUESTIONS

anyway uh. yeah. it's flor.

I kind of went on a tangent about Zach up there, because he truly is one of the most wonderful people I've ever met, and I'm insanely grateful that he always greets me like an old friend. all four of the boys are like that, really; they're amazing at remembering individual fans and making you feel loved and welcomed when you chat with them after a show. but Zach is the best at it. one time he saw me on the sidewalk before a show that he didn't expect me to be at, and he got so excited he started singing, like- like just one long, high note. and even though I was crouched on the ground digging around in my bag and couldn't get up fast enough, he blew right past the other two girls I was standing with - both of whom he's known for years longer than he's known me lmao - to kneel down and wrap me in a hug. anyway he's one of my favourite people alive.

but to also rave for a moment about the band as a whole, rather than about the boys as people: flor has legitimately changed my life so much. I discovered them by accident and literally don't know who or where I would be now, four-and-change years later, if I hadn't. their music has been a comforting and uplifting constant for me since the first night I heard it. their shows have been some of the best experiences of my life - every flor show feels like being home, and being completely myself, and being so fucking full of joy, no matter what my life is like outside of that moment. their fanbase, the florfam, is full of such amazing people, and I've made so many great friendships amongst them. because of flor I learned to go to shows alone, and go into Toronto alone, both of which are feats I could never have imagined tackling before I fell in love with this band.

but even more, because of flor I learned to travel alone. I am an incredibly anxious homebody, and I still get nervous spending the night away from home most of the time, but for flor I got my passport renewed and travelled solo to the States - first on a bus, then the next year on a plane. I met up with friends I'd previously known exclusively through twitter, and it was like we'd known each other for ages. we hugged like old friends when we met and cried when it was time to part again. the Courtney before flor could never have done something like that.

I have grown so much because of falling in love with this band. I've done things I definitely never would have otherwise. I've written whole stories that would never have occurred to me without flor's music. a flor show feels like home, like love, like raw, abundant, riotous joy. I've never been anywhere happier. I've never gotten out of one without crying!! the music those boys make is my favourite in the whole world, and I keep it close to my heart always, but their impact on my life is so much bigger than that.

#long post #like LONG long holy shit I'm sorry?#but also oh my god Izu THANK YOU #you had no way of knowing how these questions would open me up like an exuberant can of worms but here we are #and I had SO MUCH FUN.#personal #survey #flor

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ankewehner · 5 years ago

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Livetweet of accidentally getting into fairyland...

Best twitter thread ever?

https://twitter.com/NeolithicSheep/status/1330548523721515013 Shepherd: Oh hey Ursula, do you have the number for those people who take out invasive plants still?

Ursula: Probably somewhere, yeah. They said they didn’t usually work on such small properties, though, and I don’t know if I’ve got an infestation worth their time.

Shepherd: Ok but what if I say "kudzu" to you, can we throw enough money at them to make it worth their time.

Ursula: If you say “kudzu” to me, I will panic, scream, and come running to Dogskull with a flamethrower.

Shepherd: Ok well I suggest driving but maybe pack up the flamethrower. Ursula: OH MY GOD YOU FOUND KUDZU OH GOD WHERE IS IT ARE YOU SURE IT ISN’T JUST WILD GRAPE

Shepherd: YES I KNOW WHAT WILD GRAPE LOOKS LIKE THANK YOU anyway I was walking Beamer this morning after the deer ate breakfast and the white deer was walking down toward the back of the property, you know that low tucked away part? And I thought, well, we'll just trail after her at a polite distance and if I'm lucky I'll find some of her fur caught on a bush! Wouldn't that be great! So we kept going past the big ass fucking oak trees that make, like, that weird arch? And there's kudzu.

Ursula: What big oak trees?! There’s no big oak trees back there! It’s all pine!

Shepherd: Yeah you know, the two really big motherfuckers that look like English oak. They're like, way the fuck back there.

Ursula: There are no English oak on Dogskull. Are you sure you weren’t trespassing on the Freemason’s property?

Shepherd: No they're closer to the front I think? Who's next door to them? Also I thought Dog Skull was 7 acres? Because I should be off it and hitting the road by now.

Ursula: Next door to them is the people with the trailer on its side. Do you see any trailers lying on their sides?

Shepherd: A lot of oak trees, a little bit of kudzu, zero trailers in any orientation. Some birds and squirrels. Oh hey Beamer found a nice pond.

Ursula: Okay, this is important. Do the oak trees still have leaves on them?

Shepherd: Yeah but so does the one up front. Oh wait. These are, uh, still green. Like summer green.

Ursula: Right. Okay. This could be a problem. Give me a couple minutes, we have to take trash to the dump and then I’ll look some stuff up. Meanwhile, DON’T EAT ANYTHING.

Shepherd: You mean in case it's poisonous, right? Like THEORETICALLY if I didn't see this tweet until just now and HYPOTHETICALLY I found an apple tree and ate an apple, that would be fine?

Ursula: ...that would not be fine.

Shepherd: Beamer didn't want any, which was weird I thought.

Ursula: INDUCE VOMITING! INDUCE VOMITING!

Shepherd: He didn't eat anything! I'm not going to gag my dog for not eating an apple!

Ursula: Not the dog! Induce vomiting in yourself! Every chunk of that apple needs to come out before you digest it!

Shepherd: FINE. I have puked it up. It was a really good apple, too.

Ursula: Oh thank god. Whew. Okay. The alternative was that you were gonna need a cold iron enema and I wasn’t sure how to do that on short notice.

Shepherd: Oh hey fun fact, "cold iron" is just, like, iron. It's not a special kind or anything!

Ursula: Do you have any on you right now? Beamer’s collar or tags or anything?

Shepherd: Collar hardware is all aluminum these days, otherwise it rusts. Let me pat down my pockets. Syringe of dewormer? Is that helpful?

Shepherd: Anyway I don't want to alarm you but uh. I can't find the trail I followed? So you and Kevin will need to go over tonight and give the boys [i.e. oxen] a hay bale and the goats and sheep two.

Ursula: No! I am scared of cows! We have to get you out of there! Look, I have a bunch of Llewelyn books from my teenage pagan days. I’m sure Scott Cunningham or Silver Ravenwolf covered this somewhere.

Shepherd: Scott Cunningham seems like a really drastic measure just because you're afraid of some cows. But sooner or later I'm going to run out of cigarettes so sure, why not. Oh!! The boys' bow pins are in my pocket, I was going to sand them today and oil them! They're very definitely iron!

Ursula: That’s good! That’s very good! If anyone tries to talk to you, keep hold of those! Now let’s see...do you consider yourself a “solitary practitioner?”

Shepherd: Ursula I'm an ornamental hermit, you don't get much more solitary. Also so far the only person who tried to talk to me was a frog.

Ursula: ...what did the frog say?

Shepherd: "SMOKING KILLS." I tossed it back in the pond.

Ursula: *rubs forehead*

Shepherd: Fucking frogs are all alike, I'm telling you.

Ursula: I really wish these authors had spent less time on “why Wicca isn’t Satanism” and more time on “what to do when you’ve strayed into the fae realms.” I mean, I understand it was the political climate of the time...

Shepherd: I feel like nobody really covers that last one anymore. You have 4 hours until the cows want dinner.

Ursula: Silver Ravenwolf suggests making your magical working space more inviting with stencils? These books spend a surprising amount of time on interior decorating as a vital part of ritual magick. I never noticed that when I was fifteen.

Shepherd: Yeah me neither honestly. It's remarkably unhelpful when you're stuck in faerie and your collie is getting bored. Shepherd: So you want me to... Build a magical working space and stencil it?

Ursula: I can’t actually see how that would help matters. Maybe I should check the Foxfire books instead.

Shepherd: I... Don't remember them having anything relevant, but I might be wrong?

Ursula: They have everything. Ooh, this one is about how to scald the bristles off a hog!

Shepherd: A) I already know how to do that and B) I do not have a hog, sufficient firewood, or a hog scrubbing brush here. FOCUS, URSULA. FOCUS.

Ursula: Sorry, the ADHD meds haven’t kicked in yet today...uh...let’s see...avoid whippoorwills, if you see any?

Shepherd: I do that already, otherwise they steal your toenails.

Ursula: If you harvest apples, leave one on the tree or it attracts the Devil.

Shepherd: You told me not to eat the apples! Am I allowed to eat the apples now??

Ursula: No! These are hypothetical apples! NO EATING! I tried to look up deer in the Foxfire books and there’s a story about somebody’s grandpa wrestling a buck in a mill dam and drowning it, but I don’t see the relevance here. I mean, Grandpa does sound like a badass, though.

Shepherd: I feel like I shouldn't wrestle deer here. What if I try telling Beamer to find his sheep?

Ursula: Well, research has hit a small snag. I tried googling for the foxfire books and kudzu, in case there was something about fae kudzu portals, right? But it turns out your Twitter is the third hit. Shep, we may BE the experts.

Shepherd: Uh oh. OK. In that case, you and Kevin go over to Dog Skull. Hitch up Cole and Cannon and take them back to the oak trees. Put a logging chain around one and yell real loud "LET SHEPHERD OUT OR WE START PULLING"

Ursula: Oh hell no! I read tree law Reddit! I know how this ends! Do you want us to get sued by Freemasons?!

Shepherd: I DON'T THINK THE FREEMASONS ARE THE PROBLEM HERE, URSULA

Ursula: I DON’T TRUST THEM WITH THEIR LITTLE LEVELS AND SHEEPSKINS AND WEIRDLY OCULAR PYRAMIDS Also if you see a pyramid with an eye on it, don’t eat it’s either.

Ursula: Okay. Never mind the Freemasons. I wrote a book about this once, I think. White animals, scary fae, random magic deer. It was set in Finland, so you may need to fashion some umlauts, though.

Shepherd: I've got my chore knife, I can carve so many umlauts. Do I just put them in trees until I get back?

Ursula: First of all, are you wearing pants?

Shepherd: YES I'M WEARING PANTS YOU WEIRDO

Ursula: t’s a legitimate question! I mean, I’m not wearing pants.

Now Shep, this is very important. You have to take off your pants.

Also your shoes, your hoodie, and probably Beamer’s collar.

Shepherd: Ursula. Why are we getting naked.

Ursula: To break the misdirection spell! Put your clothes on backwards!

And possibly inside out? Shit, there’s a bunch of different sources. I don’t know if they have to be inside out, but definitely backwards.

Uh...let’s see...hmm, backwards definitely. Inside out might be for leshy. Leshies? Leshys? What’s the plural form, do you think?

If you happen to see any giggling green hairy dudes, ask them what the plural form of their name is. That’s gonna bug me.

Shepherd: Beamer's collar doesn't have a backwards! I'll turn it inside out. And my clothes backwards and inside out, got it.

Shepherd: There's just, like, frogs. And squirrels. I can hear music though! There might be a dance party, I could go ask about green hairy dudes?

Ursula: STAY AWAY FROM THE MUSIC unless it’s the Freemasons I guess

Shepherd: No it's more folk music. The Freemasons play, like, Michael Jackson.

ANYWAY clothes are backwards and inside out. Beamer's collar is backwards and just to be thorough I tied the rope end of his leash to his collar instead of using the clip, so his leash is backwards too. He's pulling me away from the pond!

Ursula: Tell him to go find his sheep!

Shepherd: I have so instructed him! Hopefully there's not, like, the faerie equivalent of really good sheep here. Hey do you want me to grab you an apple

Ursula: No, they don’t come true from seed, but if you can cut me a decent slightly whippy twig with a few leaves, I might be able to root that sucker.

Shepherd: ...you want me to pause a collie on a mission while I test the whippiness of twigs??

I HEAR MOOING. I SEE PINE TREES.

Ursula: GO TOWARD THE MOOING

Shepherd: THERE'S THE OLD RUSTED OUT METAL THING! I'm back! On uh the opposite side of the property from the one I left from.

Also there's a goddamned chorus frog calling.

Ursula: Yeah, they do that.

Ursula: THANK GOD THE KUDZU IS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE PORTAL

...oh, and you’re back, that’s good too. Very pleased.

Shepherd: Anyway you don't have to feed the boys. Unless you want to?

Ursula: There is no situation where I will WANT to feed your giant-ass death bovines.

Also, what have we learned about following the white doe into the woods?

Shepherd: She knows where the really good apples are?

Also my boys are tiny!!

Ursula: ...I’m gonna go take a nap.

#Ursula Vernon #NeolithicSheep #Faerie

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lovelyirony · 5 years ago

Text

Footnotes

it’s been a bit since i added to the bookshop au: time got away from me!

We’re taking over the world/a little victimless crime -Do It All the Time, IDKHBTFM

Tony notices that Bucky doesn’t come into the store for a month. This is fine. Should be fine. Not like he wonders what Bucky will think of the newest latte, which is geared more to the warmer weather that has been breezing in cheerfully. The iced latte, flavored with caramel and coconut, had been a hit with MJ and Ned, who both loved it.

But Bucky hadn’t come in and tried it.

His anxiety tells him that he is found out and are currently waiting until Tony leaves the building to set up a trap and probably blow up every single book and also him.

But that would be stupid. There’s no way that the Avengers know who Iron Man or War Machine is. Tony Jarvis is a nice guy who runs a bookstore, has a suspicious amount of money from inheritance, and got a degree in English from a local college.

He even photo-shopped pictures there with Rhodey and everything. (Thank god for anti-aging technology and Rhodey’s genius.)

But he still kind of wants Bucky to come in and look at books. He even has a few records pulled just for the occasion.

“You are quite honestly the worst kind of person,” Rhodey says. “Who gets a crush on who is supposed to be their arch-nemesis and wants to make a custom coffee menu for them?”

“Not me,” Tony says quickly, pushing away the lemon-blueberry scone idea. “And besides if anyone would be my arch-nemesis, it would clearly be Black Widow. We match each other intellectually.”

“Not a chance,” Rhodey says with a snort. “Or did you forget the time you got so nervous you—”

“Hello?” comes a voice from the front. Rhodey immediately cuts off, going back to filing new shipments. Tony looks over.

“Hey, you’re back!” Tony cheers.

Rhodey makes a motion of gagging. Tony flips him off with one hand behind his back as he comes forward.

“Sorry I haven’t been in. Work has been…enlightening.”

“Usually code for ‘I-don’t-get-paid-enough’” Tony teases. “You wanna try an iced coffee drink?”

“I’m game.”

“Sit down at the table, I’ll get it out for you.”

Bucky has to admit that a good apron can do wonders for an ass. Or maybe Tony just has a really nice one. Either way, the view is spectacular.

“What has work been having you do?” Tony asks, pouring in syrup.

“Oh just…the usual,” Bucky says. He’s horrible at lying. He really, really is. “They keep twisting up what they want, it’s getting confusing.”

“Bookshops, luckily, are much simpler than that,” Tony says, smiling. He slides the drink over to Bucky. “Try it. Tell me what you think.”

Bucky takes a long slurp. Puts his head back.

“Tony, you ever experienced a masterpiece?”

“Once or twice,” Tony says, smiling.

“This is the damn Mona Lisa of drinks.”

Tony grins. Bucky sips a bit more, sighing in contentment.

“Hey, I know that last time I learned that you sold records. What are, um, your favorites?”

“I’m glad you asked…”

Bucky learns about new music. He learns that he needs to google new bands. AC/DC is a clear favorite of Tony’s, who sings along. It’s a funny juxtaposition with his cardigan and old jeans, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

Bucky finds some of the old ones, which Tony doesn’t look surprised at.

“You have an old soul,” Tony says.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Bucky mutters.

“Don’t I?” Tony teases. “You act as if you’ve never had iced coffee before.”

Bucky has to turn back to the player to stop from laughing in front of him. What Tony doesn’t know…well. He’s damned sure he doesn’t know that technically all of Bucky’s favorite records were either unable to be found, most likely questionable, or long disintegrated with time.

Oh, Tony knows. He knows for a damned fact that Bucky has never had iced coffee, most likely does not know who the hell Jimmy Carter was and knows how to disassemble and reassemble most weapons in under sixty seconds.

But it’s cute to mess with him. His brow furrows. Tony has a thing for furrows.

“Hey Tony?” Rhodey asks, head popping up from the upstairs. Bucky automatically looks up, finding the face to be vaguely familiar.

“What is it Rhodey-dear?” Tony calls back out.

“I have a computer glitch, you gotta come see it! Now!”

“This better not be a repeat of the pinball incident,” Tony mutters, turning back to Bucky. “I’ll be back in five minutes, I promise.”

“Take your time, love,” Bucky responds.

Bucky then immediately wonders if he bangs his head against the column near him if Tony and Rhodey will hear it. Tony also called his…person “Rhodey-dear.” Dear! Does he even have a chance?

But this brings him to think about Rhodey. He looked familiar. Bucky’s life doesn’t consist of knowing that you know someone from a certain social event and trying to place them. No, Bucky knows people because of two reasons:

1.) He tried to kill them.

2.) SHIELD has something on them.

He’s pretty sure that if he was faced with someone like Rhodey, he wouldn’t be able to kill him. Even from the head poking out, he could see a pretty defined shoulder and a look set to his gaze that read as very competent, entirely capable of taking down an authoritarian government, and also probably likes gourmet cheeses. The last one is a guess. But Bucky likes to guess pretty damn accurately.

Rhodey…

Rhodes. Colonel James Rhodes. Close with Tony Stark, who went missing. They thought he had something to do with something. He moved to New York pretty quickly after that, refusing to go into military service to a “previously unreported mental incapacity.”

Bucky smells bullshit.

Tony Stark. Another mystery in this puzzle. Bucky remembers trying to kill Howard and Maria Stark. It was the wrong person. Winter Soldier never missed his targets. Of course, Tony Stark wasn’t the target.

Rhodey is freaking out. Someone at SHIELD figured out there was a tiny bug in the system.

“When did they hire someone competent?!” Tony whisper-yells. “I thought they were two years behind schedule!”

“We made that schedule when we were drunk out of our minds from Moscato,” Rhodey hisses.

“Still! It was Moscato. It wasn’t like we drank vodka until we were shit-faced. That would’ve ended up disastrously and possibly given Dum-E and U a new sibling before Butterfingers.”

“Butterfingers wants a baby, just so you know,” Rhodey says.

“Why are you telling me this now?” Tony asks.

“Because you know what you’re doing and I figured you should know what your daughter is up to. It’s very important in developmental psychology.”

“Do not,” Tony hisses. “Let me fix this…”

With a couple more frantic curses, one eye shut, and a yelp, the problem is (mostly) taken care of.

“You think they can trace it?”

“It’ll trace back to a random e-café,” Tony says. “And there will be Justin Hammer who is currently trying to work out why his dating profile isn’t working. I’ll give you a hint: it’s the bio and the fact that he looks like he’s going to bail on paying for your dinner.”

Rhodey smiles, shaking his head and looking out the door.

“Get back down to Barnes. Don’t let him know what this is.”

“When would I?”

“You tend to be a terrible liar around people you like.”

“Why you—!”

“Thank you for helping with the pinball machine again!” Rhodey says, throwing his voice. He shoves Tony out of the office. Tony’s cheeks are bright red, he’s flushed, and he can barely walk down the stairs.

He’s not sure what exactly happened. He knows someone found out about them, tried to trace the bug back. That simply wouldn’t do because Tony runs a legitimate business. Pays taxes on April fifteenth and everything.

“Sorry about that, emergency with a pinball machine game,” Tony says.

“Understandable,” Bucky says. “What was wrong it? A bug get in?”

“Uh, not exactly,” Tony responds, body going tense for a moment. “You want to pick out a new record?”

“Yeah, sure…”

They find out that Bucky absolutely hates the pop, almost-fake music from the fifties.

“It’s…unsettling,” Bucky says, shuddering. “Gross.”

“Let me get some Benny Goodman then,” Tony says.

“How’d you know?”

“Everyone likes his music,” Tony says. “But then again, you did say you were an old soul.”

Bucky can hear the familiar music fill the air as he hums to himself.

“Hey handsome, wanna help me with something?” Tony asks. “I have some books that need to be shelved. I was wondering if you could help?”

“No problem,” Bucky says, grinning. “Can’t reach the top shelf?”

“Why you—”

“I’m shelving!” Bucky calls, grabbing one of the boxes.

Tony thinks that no one should be attractive when they’re lifting boxes. Especially when they’re holding what is essentially about forty pounds with one arm. His left one, but still.

There is also the matter of making sure that Barnes never finds out who he is. Tony has been quite careful about that, although the “bug” comment got to him. Does he know about them? Is he playing some sort of long game?

Answer: no. Bucky got distracted by a book title that he remembers from years ago.

“I forgot I read this,” he says, smiling. “It was forever ago.”

“Old books get to you like nothing else,” Tony responds. “I grew up with Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. You read that one yet?”

“Add it to the recommended box,” Bucky answers.

He has his own box now. Technically a crate, but Tony’s been putting books there for Bucky when he thinks he’s found one that he’ll like. Which of course, Bucky will like whatever book is in there if Tony chose it. He likes anything Tony chooses. He would wear the worst outfit in existence if Tony chose it.

Shelving goes by with little conversation, although they both hum along to the music being played softly over the intercoms. Tony comes and goes, helping customers with different items, brewing some more coffee, and getting some more boxes.

Bucky likes the routine.

He’s sad to go, taking his books with him and waving a soft goodbye. Tony’s leaning against the doorframe, a fond look on his face as the bookshop light floats out onto dark pavement. He wishes he could be there all the time.

And then, of course, people are in his apartment.

“Bookstore again, huh?” Steve asks. Natasha’s looking through the pile of receipts on the kitchen counter.

“You go there a lot,” she murmurs.

“I like being literate, gives me a headstart on Clint,” Bucky answers glibly.

“Even if someone liked reading this much, they wouldn’t be buying obscene amounts of books and coffee.”

“I don’t buy every book. To—the owner lets me take some home if I return them the next day.”

“You’re on a first name basis?” Natasha asks, eyebrow arched. “Just what bookstore are you going to?”

“One that’s none of your business,” Bucky says.

“It says it on top of the receipt,” Steve says.

Bucky curses.

Steve laughs at him.

#bookshop au #lovelyirony writes #sorry it took so long #i've been dealing with personal stuff and schoolwork #but now schoolwork is done #writer's block on the other hand.....#winteriron #rhodey #pepper potts #tony stark #bucky barnes #steve rogers

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velvetdestroya · 5 years ago

Photo

A Vigil, On Birds and Glass. I woke up this morning still dreaming, or not fully aware of myself just yet. The sun poked through the windows, touching my face, and then a deep sadness overcame me, immediately, bringing me to life and realization- My Chemical Romance had ended. I walked downstairs to do the only thing I could think of to regain composure- I made coffee. As the drip began, in that kind of silence that only happens in the morning, and being the only one awake, I stepped outside my home, leaving the door open behind me. I looked around and began to breathe. Things looked to be about the same- a beautiful day. As I turned to step back into the house I heard sound from within, a chirp and a rustle. And I noticed a small brown bird had flown into the library. Naturally, I panicked. I knew I had to see the bird to safety and I knew I had to retain the order of things in our home, and he very well couldn’t take up residency with us. I chased him (still assuming he was a he) into my office, where I have these very large windows. Just then, and luckily, I heard Lindsey’s footsteps coming down the stairs, and naturally being composed as she is, she grabbed a blanket and stepped into the office. He was impossible to catch, and I began to open the windows, via Lindsey’s direction, only to find out they were screened. The bird began to fly into the glass, over and over and in all different directions. Smack. Smack. Smack! I heard another set of footsteps, Bandit’s, running down the stairs in anticipation of the new day. Her entrance into the situation caused just the right amount of chaos (she was very excited to meet the bird) and we found ourselves chasing the bird into the living room. Knowing that this where it could potentially get sticky, being the high ceilings and the beams to perch on, I opened the front door as Lindsey did her best to encourage our new friend out the door. After some coaxing, flying, chirping, a wrong turn back into the library and a short goodbye to Bandit, he simply hopped out the front door- taking off on the fifth leap. We cheered. I was no longer sad. I didn’t realize it, but I stopped being sad the minute that bird had come into my life, because there was something that needed doing, a small vessel to aid and an order to keep. I closed the door. I decided to write the letter I always knew I would. It is often my nature to be abstract, hidden in plain sight, or nowhere at all. I have always felt that the art I have made (alone or with friends) contains all of my intent when executed properly, and thus, no explanation required. It is simply not in my nature to excuse, explain, or justify any action I have taken as a result of thinking it through with a clear head, and in my truth. I had always felt this situation involving the end of this band would be different, in the eventuality it happened. I would be cryptic in its existence, and open upon its death. The clearest actions come from truth, not obligation. And the truth of the matter is that I love every one of you. So, if this finds you well, and sheds some light on anything, or my personal account and feelings on the matter, then it is out of this love, mutual and shared, not duty. Love. This was always my intent. My Chemical Romance: 2001-2013 We were spectacular. Every show I knew this, every show I felt it with or without external confirmation. There were some clunkers, sometimes our secondhand gear broke, sometimes I had no voice- we were still great. It is this belief that made us who we were, but also many other things, all of them vital- And all of the things that made us great were the very things that were going to end us- Fiction. Friction. Creation. Destruction. Opposition. Aggression. Ambition. Heart. Hate. Courage. Spite. Beauty. Desperation. LOVE. Fear. Glamour. Weakness. Hope. Fatalism. That last one is very important. My Chemical Romance had, built within its core, a fail-safe. A doomsday device, should certain events occur or cease occurring, would detonate. I shared knowledge of this “flaw” within weeks of its inception. Personally, I embraced it because, again, it made us perfect. A perfect machine, beautiful, yet self aware of it’s system. Under directive to terminate before it becomes compromised. To protect the idea- at all costs. This probably sounds like something ripped from the pages of a four-color comic book, and that’s the point. No compromise. No surrender. No fucking shit. To me that’s rock and roll. And I believe in rock and roll. I wasn’t shy about who I said this to, not the press, or a fan, or a relative. It’s in the lyrics, it’s in the banter. I often watched the journalists snicker at mention of it, assuming I was being sensational or melodramatic (in their defense I was most likely dressed as an apocalyptic marching-band leader with a tear-away hospital gown and a face covered in expressionist paint, so fair enough). I’m still not sure if the mechanism worked correctly, because it wasn’t a bang but a much slower process. But still the same result, and still for the same reason- When it’s time, we stop. It is important to understand that for us, the opinion on whether or not it is in fact time does not transmit from the audience. Again, this is to protect the idea for the benefit of the audience. Many a band have waited for external confirmation that it is time to hang it up, via ticket sales, chart positioning, boos and bottles of urine- input that holds no sway for us, and often too late when it comes anyway. You should know it in your being, if you listen to the truth inside you. And voice inside became louder than the music. Now- There are many reasons My Chemical Romance ended. The triggerman is unimportant, as was always the messengers- but the message, again as always, is the important thing. But to reiterate, this is my account, my reasons and my feelings. And I can assure you there was no divorce, argument, failure, accident, villain, or knife in the back that caused this, again this was no one’s fault, and it had been quietly in the works, whether we knew it or not, long before any sensationalism, scandal, or rumor. There wasn’t even a blaze of glory in a hail of bullets… I am backstage in Asbury Park, New Jersey. It is Saturday, May 19th, 2012 and I am pacing behind a massive black curtain that leads to the stage. I feel the breeze from the ocean find its way around me and I look down at my arms, which are covered in fresh gauze due to a losing battle with a heat rash, which had been a mysterious problem in recent months. I am normally not nervous before a show but I am certainly filled with angry butterflies most of the time. This is different- a strange anxiety jetting through me that I can only imagine is the sixth sense one feels before their last moments alive. My pupils have zeroed-out and I have ceased blinking. My body temperature is icy. We get the cue to hit the stage. The show is… good. Not great, not bad, just good. The first thing I notice take me by surprise is not the enormous amount of people in front of us but off to my left- the shore and the vastness of the ocean. Much more blue than I remembered as a boy. The sky is just as vibrant. I perform, semi-automatically, and something is wrong. I am acting. I never act on stage, even when it appears that I am, even when I’m hamming it up or delivering a soliloquy. Suddenly, I have become highly self-aware, almost as if waking from a dream. I began to move faster, more frantic, reckless- trying to shake it off- but all it began to create was silence. The amps, the cheers, all began to fade. All that what left was the voice inside, and I could hear it clearly. It didn’t have to yell- it whispered, and said to me briefly, plainly, and kindly- what it had to say. What it said is between me and the voice. I ignored it, and the following months were full of suffering for me- I hollowed out, stopped listening to music, never picked up a pencil, started slipping into old habits. All of the vibrancy I used to see became de-saturated. Lost. I used to see art or magic in everything, especially the mundane- the ability was buried under wreckage. Slowly, once I had done enough damage to myself, I began to climb out of the hole. Clean. When I made it out, the only thing left inside was the voice, and for the second time in my life, I no longer ignored it- because it was my own. There are many roles for all of us to play in this ending. We can be well-wishers, ill-wishers, sympathizers, vilifiers, comedians, rain clouds, victims- That last one, again, is important. I have never thought myself a victim, nor my comrades, nor the fans- especially not the fans. For us to adopt that role right now would legitimize everything the tabloids have tried to name us. More importantly, it completely misses the point of the band. And then what have we learned? With honor, integrity, closure, and on no one’s terms but our own- the door closes. And another opens- This morning I awoke early. I quickly brushed my teeth, threw on some baggy jeans, and hopped in my car. I gently sped down the 405 through the morning fog to a random parking lot in Palo Verde, where I was to meet a nice gentleman named Norm. He was older, and a self-proclaimed “hippie” but he also had the energy of Sixteen year old in a garage-rock band. The purpose of the meeting was the delivery of an amplifier into my possession. I had recently purchased the amp from him and we both agreed that shipping would jostle the tubes- so he was kind enough to meet me in the middle. A Fender Princeton Amp from 1965, non reverb. A beautiful little device. He showed me the finer points, the speaker, the non-grounded plug, the original label and the chalk mark of the man or woman who built it- “This amp talks.” he said. I smiled. We got coffee, talked about gold-foil pickups and life. We sat in the car and played each other music we had made. We parted ways, promising to stay in touch, I drove home. When I wanted to start My Chemical Romance, I began by sitting in my parent’s basement, picking up an instrument I had long abandoned for the brush- a guitar. It was a 90’s Fender Mexican Stratocaster, Lake Placid Blue, but in my youth I had decided it was too clean and pretty so I beat it up, exposing some of the red paint underneath the blue- the color it was meant to be. Adding a piece of duct tape on the pick guard, it felt acceptable. I plugged this into a baby Crate Amp with built in distortion and began the first chords of Skylines and Turnstiles. I still have that guitar, and it’s sitting next to The Princeton. He has a voice, and I would like to hear what it has to say. In closing, I want to thank every single fan. I have learned from you, maybe more than you think you’ve learned from me. My only regret is that I am awful with names and bad with goodbyes. But I never forget a face, or a feeling- and that is what I have left from all of you. I feel Love. I feel love for you, for our crew, our team, and for every single human being I have shared the band and stage with- Ray. Mikey. Frank. Matt. Bob. James. Todd. Cortez. Tucker. Pete. Michael. Jarrod. Since I am bad with goodbyes. I refuse to let this be one. But I will leave you with one last thing- My Chemical Romance is done. But it can never die. It is alive in me, in the guys, and it is alive inside all of you. I always knew that, and I think you did too. Because it is not a band- it is an idea. Love, Gerard

(Source Rock Sound March 25, 2013) [photo credit; ashley bird]

#mcr #my chemical romance #my chemical romance the end 2013 #geray way goodbye letter to fans 2013 #it is an idea #my chemical romance can never die #mcrmy #killjoys #gerard way

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drawlfoy · 6 years ago

Text

Undertones

masterlist request guidelines please feed my inbox. she’s starving. requests are more open than ever!

pairing: draco x nonslytherin!reader

request: yes! thank you anon!

summary: non slytherin reader offers draco her scarf when she realizes he’s cold. he secretly wants to accept but he’s too afraid to ruin his reputation.

warnings: fluff idk. maybe foul language because *that’s me* but i write warnings before i write fics and i cannot foresee this going anywhere dirty

a/n: i’ve made spaghetti how many times? too many times. and yet every time i misjudge the amount of pasta sauce i need to heat up to match the amount of pasta. every single time. i don’t know what’s wrong with me but i can never fix this problem. i’m sorry this is random but i don’t think many people actually read this part so i’m kind of going off. the pasta is good tho, i’m eating it right now. reply with “pasta” down below if you actually read this

music recs: shoot i’ve been listening to alvvays tbh

also, last thing: Y/H/N means your house name, Y/H/C means your house color(s) :) also O/H means other house... as in not your house or slytherin!!

word count: 1,435

The wind was howling outside, cold and biting, as Y/N settled into the bench next to her “friend”, Draco Malfoy.

They’d only begun to be civil to each other that year after they’d been forced together in potions. At first, it had been horrible, but eventually, Y/N and Draco came to a truce. The merciless teasing about her house ceased and Y/N stopped reminding him how much she hated him every day.

And then there was Quidditch. You were both big fans of getting high marks in potions, but you were both even bigger fans of the game. Y/N was unfortunately rendered unable to play in 4th year, after a particular nasty crash messed up her leg, She was perfectly capable of attending games, however, and she was especially supportive of the Y/H/N team.

This particular Saturday, Y/H/N was playing O/H. It was the first time this year that Slytherin wasn’t playing, so Y/N had thought it appropriate to invite Draco along with her.

She was beginning to regret her decision as she watched the blond boy sitting next to her complain.

“Why does it have to be so cold out?”

“Uh, I don’t know, Draco,” Y/N shot back. “It’s wintertime, maybe that plays a role?”

He huffed and dug his hands into his cloak pockets.

“Y/N, please at least let me feel sorry for myself in silence.” He pouted, pulling his hands out of his pockets and blowing on them. “I never should’ve come. It’s too cold out for this.”

Y/N’s heart stung a little at this comment. They both loved Quidditch, and sometimes it was all they talked about. She was cold too, but the love for the sport kept her glued to the spot.

“Didn’t think you were such a wuss,” she grumbled, pulling her own down jacket tightly around her body. She’d abandoned their uniforms and had instead opted for her muggle winter gear--except for her Y/H/N scarf, which was pulled tightly around her neck.

“I prefer realist,” he shot back. Draco’s voice wavered just a slight bit, and Y/N cast him another glance. She was shocked to see that he was actually shivering.

“I’m cold too, Draco,” she retorted “But for some reason, I’m still here.”

No response was returned. Instead, comfortable silence between them rested as the yells of the other onlookers pulled her attention away from Draco.

After the first 45 minutes, Y/N felt positively chilled. A quick glance at Draco confirmed that she was not alone in this feeling. Both were ill dressed for the occasion.

“Hey,” she began, inching a little closer to her potions partner, “Do you want my scarf?”

Draco turned to look at her, eyeing her neck. He looked like, for a second, he was considering it.

“No,” he finally told her. “You need it more than me.”

“What do you mean, Draco?” Her voice cracked slightly from the cold air rushing into her mouth. “You’re just wearing a cloak. I have a full coat.”

“And you’re still shivering!”

“So are you!”

At this point, neither of them were paying any mind to the game in front of them.

“Even if I was...cold,” Draco told her, his teeth chattering comically, “I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a Y/H/N scarf. Y/H/C doesn’t suit my pink undertones.”

“Oh. My. God.” Y/N rolled her eyes so hard they nearly reached the back of her head. “You are such a diva. Do you know how many people die during the winter from hypothermia? And you’re out here, refusing a scarf because it doesn’t compliment your undertones?”

“You know that’s not the real reason, dimwit,” he told her with a hushed voice.

Y/N’s cheeks were no longer being bitten by just the wind--now they were red from Draco’s scathing words.

“No one really cares,” she whispered, her eyes falling to the ground. She knew that that was a blatant lie.

“You know they do,” Draco answered, sighing and turning his attention back to the game.

Y/N only pretended to watch the game. In reality, she was trying to get her cheeks to stop flaming red with embarrassment. Perhaps she could blame the sudden flush on the cold, but Draco had to know. He had to know that he had, in a sense, rejected her, proving that his reputation was more important than sharing a sweet moment between the two of them.

Without the heat of an argument, Y/N settled back into her chilly state, quivering slightly with every new gust of wind. Pins and needles began to rush into her bare hands, forcing her to resort to sticking them inside her jacket like some kind of deranged penguin.

“Are you cold?” Draco asked.

“Er....yeah? Duh,” she responded, turning her head to face him with an unimpressed expression. “I thought we already went over this.”

Draco swallowed. His hands were shaking, harder than they were before. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought he was nervous, but it was cold enough out to excuse the behavior.

“Give me your hands,” he demanded.

“Excuse me?” Y/N asked, bewildered from the sudden suggestion.

“You heard me. Give them here.” As if to prove that he was being serious, he stuck his own hands out expectantly,

Hesitantly, Y/ drew her hands out of her jacket and held them out to him. He grasped them, pulling them to his chest and rubbing his hands back and forth. She was pleasantly surprised with how warm his core was. (a/n: the word core is ruined for me because of smut and i promise that that isn’t what i was trying to imply)

“I thought you said you were cold.”

“I thought you appreciated my dramatic flair.” Draco exaggerated a frown, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles.

This was new. While they were on better terms and had done a fair bit of things that friends did, one line they never crossed was legitimate physical touch. Y/N couldn’t say that she minded it, though.

Feeling slowly tricked back into her hands as they sat like that, Draco still stroking the outsides of her hands and Y/N standing ramrod straight in disbelief. Once her hands were no longer numb, she cleared her throat and shifted in her seat.

“Thank you,” she said awkwardly, withdrawing her hands from his chest and tucking them back into her pockets. “I can feel them now. I think I’m alright.”

“Ooooooookay,” Draco responded, raising an eyebrow in slight disappointment. “If they ever get cold again...”

“Okay.”

The tension between them only thickened as Y/N realized she’d made a horrible mistake. She was starting to feel positively frozen at this point, and to make things worse, the Y/H/N seeker had decided to hang out over the stadium seats where Y/N was seated. Every few seconds, she’d dive down and another rush of freezing wind would hit Y/N and Draco.

Within a few minutes, both were shivering messes. Y/N considered offering her hands back to him, but her pride kept her from going back to it. She withdrew them. She couldn’t ask for more again.

“You’re still cold, aren’t you?” Draco’s voice pulled her back from her plotting.

“Was it that obvious?”

The laugh Draco let out was small and involuntary.

“Well, I mean....” He sucked in a deep breath before meeting Y/N’s eyes. “You can....you can sit closer.”

“Oh?” The words left her mouth before she could revise them.

“Er.. yeah, come over here.” Draco patted the already rather small space on the bench between them.

Y/N cautiously scooted closer, closing the gap until their shoulders were almost rubbing.

How was this supposed to accomplish anything?

Draco answered her question before she could even voice it out loud, taking one arm out of the sleeve of his cloak. He draped it over Y/N’s shoulder so they were sharing the garment, pulling her close.

Y/N almost gasped but caught it just in time. Draco’s arm was now wrapped around her shoulder and her head pressed up against his warm chest.

She could hear his heart racing as his free hand slid under the cloak, taking hers and stroking them like he had done before.

“And what was this about being ashamed of my house?” she managed to quip, lifting her gaze upwards to meet his soft grey eyes. “You won’t wear my scarf but you’ll allow...this?”

He blushed, turning his fair pink skin an even deeper red as his thumb rubbed lazy circles on the back of her hands.

“I told you,” he whispered, dropping his head down so his face was mere inches away from her, “Y/H/C looks ghastly on me.”

final a/n: this kind of took a u turn from the original direction that was requested and i deeply apologize for that haha. i’m not the best at writing fluff, i’m a little better at writing build up, so i’m going to have to work on that. thank you for reading!

#draco #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #harry potter #quidditch #hogwarts #dramione #hermione granger #ron weasley #lucius malfoy #narcissa malfoy #slytherin #ravenclaw #hufflepuff #gryffindor

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

Text

Survey #453

“you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave”

What health problems run in your family? Diabetes, high blood pressure and cholesterol, depression, cancer, a LOT more that I'm forgetting. Where did you last have sex? I have zero memory of the last time that was, so I wouldn't know. But probably a bed? How long have you known your best friend? Since we were around 8 and 11. What’s something people criticize you the most for? That I rely on the computer too much. Are spiders scary? I mean some are, but they're also extremely fascinating animals that I really enjoy observing. Cheetos. Poofy or regular? Regular, for sure. The poofy ones get stuck in your teeth SO badly. What's your favorite music genre? Heavy metal. Be honest. What are you most afraid of? Doing nothing with my life. What's your favourite type of survey to take? The ones with really random questions that you don't see in every single one. However, I don't like "random" to where the questions are just inapplicable to almost everyone. I also enjoy questions that allow me to vent about stuff I have going on. If I'm in the right mood, deep questions are great, too. What was the last topic you read about? In detail? I don't know. What shirt do you wear the most? Besides tank tops, my Cloak "equal in our bones" Day of the Dead shirt. What's your go-to order from KFC? I don't eat at KFC. Did you have hand-me-down clothes when you were growing up? Yes. What was the last song you listened to? Well, NOW I'm obsessed with Violet Orlandi's cover of "Hotel California." I keep finding new songs that I just loop for days, man, lol. I'm still not over her "The Unforgiven" cover. Did you have long hair as a young kid? I did. How many songs do you know by the band you are listening to? I'm still listening to Violet's "Hotel California" cover, which is originally by The Eagles. I obviously know this song, as well as "Heartache Tonight." Probably more, just those are the two I know and like. What podcasts do you listen to, if any? I don't listen to any. What was your most recent binge watch? Gab Smolders' playthrough of Final Fantasy X. What’s the oldest thing currently in your house? Hell, possibly my bed frame. I don't know. If you use Snapchat, do you post to your story or send individual snaps more often? I don't have one. When was the last time you rolled your eyes? At what? Not too long ago. Mom said something that really annoyed me. Do you like mozzarella sticks? No. If you had to name one of your children after a friend, solely based on their name alone, who would you choose? Probably Alon. Everything about her is beautiful, ha ha. Have you ever watched anime porn? I can confidently say I have not... Are ladybugs cute? Yes! Would you wear something made from snake skin? Fuck no. I won't wear anything that comes from an animal. Will you leave the house without fragrance on? Yeah, idc. What’s the coolest thing you’ve ever done for a significant other? In art class, I made an anatomically correct heart out of clay and put it in a shadow box along with a poem as the background. I honestly really hope Jason still has it, because I worked my ass off on it. What do you think of naming your son after the father (ex. Roy Jr.): It's not my business what other parents name their kids, but for me personally, I really don't like it. Like... give your child their own identity. It also feels kinda arrogant to me? Like are you so important that you have to force your name onto your kid? Do you like Death Cab For Cutie? I only know "I Will Follow You Into the Dark," which I adore. Do walking near or past cops make you feel uncomfortable? Yes. I just feel like I'm doing something wrong somehow. Do you think stretching (or gauging) your ears is disgusting? When they get to a certain size, to me it is. Small ones are no biggie. What piercing or body modification do you think is really gross? Oh my god, those corset piercings people get on their backs. Just... no. What would you do if your bf/gf told you they were going into the army? I'd be fucking devastated, in a hypothetical relationship where we're serious. What is the nearest gas station called? Uhhhh... I forgot lol. The second-closest though, which is almost like, RIGHT beside the other one, is Sheetz. Do you think bearded dragons are cute? omg YES!!!!!!!! What is your father’s best friend’s name? Do you know them personally? I have no idea. Ever have a dream you’re being abducted by aliens? Was it scary? No. Are you someone who tends to take a whole lot of naps? Too many, honestly. I'm just like... always tired. What is your favorite nickname you like to be called? Why do you like it? Hm. My favorite I've ever had was "Bee," which Megan called me, but I don't like others calling me that. Ever meet someone whose house has burned down spontaneously? Yes, in middle school. Why aren’t you pursuing the person you like? I kinda am. I reached out to him. What part of a person’s body do you find most attractive? Guys: shoulder blades. Girls: hips. Any friends that you’d go on a date with? Yeah. I think I want to try that with Girt and see how it goes and decide what the fuck I want. Is it cute when someone calls you babe? It's funny, I used to hate that, but now I imagine I wouldn't mind? Do you like Muse? Yeah! "Unnatural Selection" and "Psycho" are especially BANGERS. What’s your favorite flavor of jello? Strawberry. What song is stuck in your head right now? I'm bingeing the absolute fuck outta the song I mentioned earlier, ha ha. Do you have a niece or nephew? I have a lot, but only three I see regularly. Have you ever been caught doing something REAL embarrassing by your parents? idk What did you receive for Valentine’s Day? I think Mom got me a chocolate bar? When was the last time you went to a cemetery, and why were you there? I want to say this was many years ago when I went with Colleen to her church. Her stillborn brother was buried there. Have you ever owned a plant? What was it? I grew habaneros once, along with some sort of succulents from Colleen. What was the most interesting animal you have seen in the wild? I saw a mink jump into the river once when I was out fishing with Dad at our favorite spot. Were you born in the state you live in? Yep. Always lived here. What’s a smell that makes you feel ill? Dog shit. Do you like to sleep? Yes and no. I like falling asleep if it's quick, because I'm all comfy, but I also dread sleep because of my nightmares. Even with my mask, they're starting to become regular again. After last night's, I am legitimately beginning to fear something is psychologically wrong with me. Like, I cried to my mom. Do you like the smell of gasoline? Ugh, no. It gives me a headache. Have you lost contact with anyone you wish you haven’t? Many people. Did you give anyone his/her first kiss? No. Should you ever have gone to the hospital but didn’t? Vice versa? No. Who do you miss the most? Jason. What do you miss the most? Being happy. What is your birthstone? Do you have any jewelry with it? Amethyst. I have a really cute guardian angel pin with one given to me by my grandmother. What is the last dream you remember having? Last night was... awful. I remember Mom and I getting in a MASSIVE fight, and also literally yelling at my late beloved dog something about crushing his head in if he didn't stop barking. Like I mentioned earlier, I'm really scared something is really wrong with me. Have you had a church confirmation, bar/bat mitzvah, or something similar? Growing up Roman Catholic, I had a Confirmation ceremony. What was the last baby animal you saw? I wanna say a puppy on Facebook. A friend just got one.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''hotel california'' by the eagles

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neurodecadence · 4 years ago

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Sorry in advance bc I don't think I've subjected you to this before but Do The Prime Numbers

the only apology I need is for making me remember maths

2 (cause one doesn't count as a prime, right? I never got why though) "what's your favorite horror subgenre?" I love found footage. I know it's cliched and dumb, all that jazz, but I love the whole cinema verite (to sound pretentious) vibes of the whole thing. I know it's fake, I know the undead didn't kill a whole town in southern texas, I know a monster didn't destroy new york, I know there's not an asylum in toronto haunted by the ghosts of patients subjected to satanic abuse (actually considering the history of asylums, you never know on that one) but it FEELS real, like I'm seeing something I'm not supposed to. The low budget only amplifies the joy for me.

3 "you're planning a horror movie marathon with your friends - which movies are you picking?" Grave Encounters (love the genius locii/house of leaves stuff going on there), Halloween (classic), Southbound (great anthology horror, highly recommend), and capping it off with Evidence, so we can all go to bed going "what the FUCK did you just put in front of me"

4 "you can go back in time and watch a horror movie of your choice on its premiere - which movie are you going to see?" Alien, the first one. I'd kill to be there for the chestburster scene for the FIRST TIME EVER, it's not even a question

5 "if you were a character in a horror movie, what kind of movie would it be? what kind of character would you be? what would be your fate?" It's a found footage, and I'm the camera holder's best pal and genre savvy, funny sidekick. I make it through most of the movie, my jokes breaking the tension (even if I do get yelled at in an important character building scene for making light of the situation, where I break down and explain it's cause I'm frightened too). Late in the film it's just me, the camera holder, and their love interest, a chance to escape appears, but the threat is just behind us; someone is going to have to make a final stand to let the others go. The main character say's they'll do it, but I stop them and tell them I won't let them, they need to get out of here. My final lines are "You know me, this is always how I've wanted to go out, keeping my best friend safe and looking like a total badass" As they flee the camera is turned back, showing flashes of light, banging, and me yelling cliches and one liners at the monsters I beat back, until a strangled cry, and then nothing.

7 "answer for real life vs if you were a slasher movie character: a murder has occurred. somebody you knew, though only in passing, got knifed by some psycho killer and the whole town is in shock. the school fool has taken it upon themselves to throw a party in the midst of all of this, "to celebrate life", as they say. - you get an invitation but are you going to the party?"

Fuuuuuuck no, and not just cause I'm not a party kind of gal in the first place (well, maybe a chill drinks and background music kinda shindig). I'm also encouraging people I know to not go, cause it's genuinely pretty disrespectful, might invite some friends so we can share any memories we have and share a quiet evening. In real life, that's about where it ends, probably. In a slasher, we probably get knifed BEFORE the big party, one of us makes it out, runs to the party covered in blood yelling about the killer, causing a panic that only makes things worse when the stabbing starts. You just can't win when you got a Jason type bastard on the loose, can you?

11 "answer for real life vs if you were a slasher movie character: you escaped the killer but your friends are still stuck on their hunting ground, hiding and running for their lives. do you go back for them?"

Hell yeah I do! I'm running that cunt down with my car (which would probably be a prius everyone else made fun of earlier, making it more dramatically and comedically satisfying). IRL, the killer is now pavement jam. In a film, we might have a problem.

13 "you're offered the chance to privately talk to a horror villain of your choice, currently kept secure in a government facility. your safety during the encounter is guaranteed. do you take the offer? and if you do, who do you pick? why?"

No, I can't think of any that could tell me anything I'm, like, desperate to know. Anything worth that effort. Maybe Pinhead, to ask about the cosmology of the world, but he'd probably say some shit that made me go mad and, like, die horribly. Also I don't think I'm smart enough to "get" it.

17 "would you rather have chucky try and transfer his soul into your body or have the sawyer family try and put you on their dinner table?"

Sawyers. You never win VS that bastard doll, but leatherface is still human. Barely, but still.

19 "the asker gets to make up a would-you-rather question of their own."

Apparently the question was "do you wanna see if you can remember the primes, or ignore it and not risk embarrassing yourself" The answer is that I have very little pride or shame left, and I like answering questions too much to ignore it c:

23 "what are some things that give you the total creeps? places, items, even certain times that you try to avoid whenever possible?"

So, okay, it's well known that I'm a brainweird bitch (read: legitimately mentally ill, but trying to be cool about it), but also sometimes I just... See shit. I know logically it's probably visual hallucinations, or memory problems, pareidolia, or a sensible explanation for deja vu. BUT There is SOME shit I have seen that I can't ignore. Houses that don't make sense no matter how I look at them, the moonwatcher, catghosts, and that one thing I will not talk about because I just know in the back of my skull that it doesn't like being noticed. A lot of these are benevolent, or just not paying attention (the catghosts in particular are very chill, if a little bothersome some days), but there are some I will go out of my way to avoid or ignore. Maybe I'm being silly, hell, almost definitely, but I don't care. I don't want to poke at things I don't understand, only to find out it was a sleeping bear.

29 "29. are you dressing up this halloween?"

Shit I don't know if I'll get the chance. If I do.... Oh! I got it! I'm gonna go as my own corpse, being wheeled around in my wheelchair by my pal dressed as an evil spooky nurse! Grim, spooky, kinda funny when I stop playing dead and perk up to go "The punch is fantastic, by the way!", AND I get to have gruesome blood and injuries all over- it's perfect!

31 "make a list: halloween preparation shopping list."

Halloween ain't such a big thing down here in Aotearoa, sadly. I like to make a deal of it, but no one else does. Still, candy for handing out, a mix of some cheap bulk mix kids can get a handful of, and some nicer mini candy bars I can hand out one at a time. Costume supplies, fake cobwebs, and some other lil decorations. I'd love to own a house and go all out for it one year, but for now I can be content with the lil paper skeleton I have hanging in my room.

37 "it's halloween! the clock strikes midnight and at the edge of town, a witch is trying to summon you. what items will she need for the spell to work?"

I mean it's halloween, and it's a witch, so she's already mostly done. Aside from that... A plastic skull, A dvd copy of a crappy horror film, a 2 liter of sugar free coke, a crystal bell, and a chunk of rose quartz. AND a smooch- no way am I passing up that chance!

Thank you for all these questions, I had an absolute blast answering these!

#Asks #holy shit this was fun thank you so much

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twisted-lies · 4 years ago

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hi kokichi! id appreciate a kin match up! i’m adding this after i’ve written the whole thing, and it turned out a lot longer than i’d plan. if this is too much for you let me know and i’ll shorten it as needed! thanks for running this blog, and i hope your day - evening - night is going wonderfully.

i have a light and cheerful personality. i’m also shy, so i mainly speak when spoken to. ive had the same group of friends for as long as i can remember. i can’t say we’ve gotten so close we know everything about each other anything like that, but when i’m with them it’s just a comfortable place i can relax. my position in the group would be the ‘baby’ of the group. i don’t really like being called a baby, but i can’t think of a better term for that haha. but, everyone in the group is very nice to me. i get a lot of physical affection from everyone there, and they’ll buy me pretty much anything. of course, i’ll attempt to return the favor when i can. but not having much money myself, i’ll usually make them something. i’m messy with most things, so it doesn’t turn out as good as i’d like it most the time but they still seem to appreciate it.

outside of that group, i consider myself pretty friendly. i invite girls i think would have fun with us to join our group outings, as well as people i think just need a friend. it isn’t uncommon for me to get denied though, and i’ll continue trying unless they told me to stop asking all together. besides that, i get overwhelmed in social situations easily if im not the one leading them. i can also be really emotional, i don’t handle yelling well and failure of doing anything is really overwhelming for me. i find crying in front of other embarrassing, but it’s not uncommon for me to do that.

i have pretty negative sides to me though. i can occasionally be kind of manipulative and spoiled. i love getting gifts, it makes me feel like someone really cares about me. i keep every gift i get and i kind of hoard them. but, if there’s something i’ve had my eye on for a while that’s where i can be manipulative. most people would do anything for me if i act nice to them or smile at them, sometimes people feel bad after seeing me cry. as a result they’ll usually buy me a gift out of pity, appreciation, even sometimes just to get me away from them. of course, i appreciate these gifts all the same but every time i look at them i feel guilty. this is usually when i’ll take what money i have and buy them something i know they will enjoy. while the usual reaction is feeling guilty i will admit i’ve kept some pretty expensive gifts while not doing anything in return.

as first impressions, people mostly see me as child like and emotional. the emotional part is pretty true. i cry easily, especially when i fail something or can’t meet my own expectations. the hardest things for me to deal with are goodbyes. even if it’s just someone moving a town over i get really close and attached to them the second i hear they’ll be leaving soon. every time someones left, it’s been pretty abrupt. i’ve been told it’s probably because they don’t want me to be sad, or they don’t wanna see me cry. but it just hurts more. sure i’ll cry, but at least i’ll get too legitimately say good bye. even if i barely know someone, everyone is pretty fine with being affectionate with me. some people treat me more like some cat than an actual person, which can make me uncomfortable sometimes. the most extreme case is being pulled onto the lap of someone i just met, in a diner no less. it was embarrassing, and i’m sure it looked ridiculous. while i’m very short myself, sitting on top someone whose only a few inches taller than me probably looks awkward. i put a fair amount of effort into my appearance, usually going for a ‘cute’ loook above anything else. this usually includes big hoodies with thigh highs or a cardigan and a skirt. people have told me i have delicate features, but i’m still confused if they meant it as a insult or compliment. for now my goal is to improve myself, i understand that i won’t always make the best choices and that i’m not that good of a person sometimes. so i’ll work hard to be a better friend to those i know and welcome people who may be lonely.

as for my interests, i enjoy technology. that’s vague, but what i mean is everything i do usually happens on the internet. i have my phone on me at all times, and sometimes i’ll digitally doodle and stuff like that. id like to make an app one day, maybe an app that’ll help people like me. i’m kind of a scatter brain so an app to help people stay organized would be great. i know there are many like that out there but i would like to make a unique one. i also like building PCS, they’re expensive though. i’ll make/help someone make them if they bought all the parts for it. basically, anything to do with tech i’ll love. i also play in band, percussion to be specific. i also collect things such as old knickknacks, but that’s mainly because it’s a family tradition. i also learned how to clean fragile things like that. i’m unsure on whether or not this will help you, i’m an INFP when it comes to MTBI personality types.

wehh, this ended up so long im sorry about that.

I kin assign you with...

Kokichi Ouma

Firstly I thought of Kokichi Ouma, Kokichi is usually presents himself as cheerful and happy infront of the others. He probably has the same friend group for a while basically like DICE. His appearance was made to look more like an innocent like child or in your case "baby" If he's with the right people he could probably get a lot of affection, which is something he overall just craves as well. He probably could also buy you something if you ask him, most likely not just doing it out of the blue. He tries to make friends sometimes and ends up getting denied easily though, Shuichi being an example towards the very end of the game. Though of course he didn't really stop trying until after the 4th trial I believe. He could probably get caught off guard if he isn't the one starting a conversation which could overwhelm him, but he won't show you that. He usually ends up crying when yelled at even if it's crocodile tears, he could also just over exaggerate it so you don't know if it's real or fake. He definitely has a manipulative side, using his innocent looking looks to his advantage to try and get what he wants, which he usually can end up succeeding. He can definitely be seen as child-like as well. If someone he knows is leaving he'll probably do his best to spend time with them before they do leave.

Chihiro Fujisaki

Secondly I thought of Chihiro, Chihiro is definitely a sweet and cheerful person. Though they can be pretty anxious at times. They'd probably tend to stick to people they know just so they'd have some sense of comfort. Theu definitely would be called baby by their friends and they'd probably buy them a few things. Chihiro obviously doing their best to give what they can back to them. Even if it was something after they cried. They'd probably also give Chihiro a lot of affection to make sure they know their loved. They're pretty friendly and if they build up enough courage they'll probably talk or invite someone to hang out with them. Chihiro can get overwhelmed easily and especially in social situations. They're pretty emotional too and can't really handle being yelled at and probably get upset over their failures. Chihiro doesn't exactly like crying infront of others though it's not uncommon for them. Chihiro can definitely be seen as child-like and emotional and probably can't handle goodbyes very well. Chihiro loves anything to do with technology! Whether it be coding or just straight up making something all together if they're able too.

Ibuki Mioda

Lastly I thought of Ibuki Mioda, Ibuki is definitely more of a cheerful or happy person she'll like to stick to people she knows, but will definitely branch out and try to be friends with anyone she thinks need it. She'll also be pretty persistent about it untill she's told to straight up just stop. She probably recieves a lot of affection and gives a lot in return. Whenever someone gives her something she'll do her best to return the gesture with a small gift or something she makes up on the spot. Though some of her attempts can come out pretty messy. She definitely can be seen as child-like as well due to small outbursts she may get. Ibuki will hate staying goodbye to people and will get clingy or really affectionate and probably be upset for a while once they actually leave. She probably also takes a good amount of time into her appearance due to multiple piercings and her hair. She also loves music and will do pretty much anything she can that will revolve around it. She's also probably a hoarder of things.

I hope you're satisfied with your results!

You don't have to worry about it being long, I've had multiple about this length or longer so it wasn't a problem! I hope you have a good rest of your day, evening, or night as well!

#♤Mod Kokichi♤#♤Request Complete♤#Kin Matchup #Kokichi Ouma #Kokichi #Chihiro Fujisaki #Chihiro #Ibuki Mioda #Ibuki #Danganronpa #Danganronpa Killing Harmony #Danganronpa Trigger Happy Havoc #Danganronpa Goodbye Despair #Dr1 #Dr2 #Drv3

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verilyruth · 5 years ago

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Rules of Courtship

(Part 3 of A New Beginning series)

AO3

Summary: Katherine's parents aren't sold on this new dating thing. They prefer traditional courtship, which means that David has less than twenty-four hours to prepare to meet the Pulitzers. Katherine's also having some new experiences and her eyes opened with the help of Jack and her older brother.

Pairings: Davey/Katherine

“He’s more…traditional than your parents are, David.”

“But we’ve only been out once!”

Katherine shrugged.

“That’s his point, I think. This is all new to him. This is how Ralph did it and so he thinks this is how I should too.”

Her father had been on her about courting. He knew she was seeing someone but not who it was. Dating was new to Joseph Pulitzer, to say the least. He was used to the traditional style of courtship which often involved families being around. In his defense, dates were a relatively new phenomenon and he’d been married for over twenty years.

“I don’t see why it’s a big deal. Just come to my house for dinner and have a drink with my father and Ralph.”

“I’m not eighteen.”

“He doesn’t care.”

“I…Katherine, I don’t know,” David said. She was getting agitated. What was the big deal?

“Why does it matter? You’re calling it off because you don’t want to have a meal with my father?”

“What? No! No, Katherine, I swear.” He looked panicked. “I’ll…I’ll come. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think I wouldn’t do it if it means that much to you.”

Katherine rolled her eyes.

“It doesn’t mean that much to me, it’s about my parents.” David nodded. He looked upset and she couldn’t help but grab his hand. “Although it means a lot that you would be willing to do it for me.”

He smiled and brought her hand to his lips.

“Of course. So when would this be?”

“Tomorrow?”

“What?” David looked panicked again.

“I’m sorry!” Katherine defended. “I was trying to get out of it and then I didn’t want to tell you because I thought you’d freak out.”

“You were right,” Jack said. He was sitting on a windowsill in the main room of the lodging house, reading the paper.

“Shut up, Jack.”

“Katherine…I’ll come but can you please tell me earlier in the future? For big things in general. I would’ve liked more time to prepare to meet your parents.”

“You’ve already met my father.”

“Yeah, when you yelled at him and called him a fool, remember?”

“Shut up, Jack,” she said again.

“You’ll be fine, okay? Ralph likes you-”

“I met Ralph for all of thirty seconds.”

“I’ve told him about you. And my other siblings will like you too and so will my mother.”

“Yeah, but it’s your father he’s scared of.”

“Shut up, Jack.” David ordered. “I’m just worried he’s going to take one look at me, realize who I am, and tell me I can’t see you anymore.” He looked legitimately nervous and she did her best to soothe him. She put her hand on his arm, caressing it.

“I don’t care about my parents’ approval.”

“If that were true we wouldn’t even be doing this,” he pointed out with a sigh.

Katherine didn’t have a response. She pulled him into a hug instead.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel all this pressure. But I promise, even if he says that, I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

He nodded.

“Okay.”

That night, she was sitting with her brother in the parlor, drinking what was arguably too much wine.

“So how’d he take it?” Ralph asked, switching the subject away from his work. She glared at him over the brim of her glass as she took a too big sip. “That well, huh?”

“He wasn’t exactly thrilled.”

“Can you blame him?”

“No, but it would’ve been nice if he was super excited for some reason.”

Ralph rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“But he’s coming, yes?”

“He’s coming. He’ll be here at six.”

“He’s probably going crazy, poor guy.”

“What?” she asked, concerned. “Why would he be going crazy?”

“Well, you don’t show up to the house of the girl you’re trying to court empty handed.”

Katherine wasn’t sure why that was relevant.

“Okay?”

“Seriously, Kitty? He’s one of the newsies.”

“So?”

“How much spare money do you think he has?”

Being told that was like a blow to the chest. Obviously Katherine knew David didn’t have much money but the idea that she had stressed him out about that without it occurring to her made her feel incredibly guilty.

“Oh.”

“Don’t be like that,” he said softly. “Come here.” She leaned against his side and continued to drink. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

“No, because either he shows up with something and he’s spent money or he doesn’t and he looks bad.”

“Maybe you should mention to Mother and Fa-”

“No!”

“Yeah, as soon as I started saying it I realized it was a bad idea.”

“Should I talk to him during my lunch break tomorrow?”

Ralph shook his head.

“No, you’ll hurt his pride.”

“David isn’t like that.”

“Every man is like that a little bit. Even if he isn’t, he’ll be mortified, won’t he?”

“I guess. Jack did say he was upset on his first day when he tried to buy him extra papers.”

“There you go. But talk to Jack if you’re so worried. He knows David better than I do, obviously, so maybe he’ll disagree.”

She nodded. That sounded like a good solution. The problem was getting Jack alone when he was supposed to be selling with David.

“Okay.”

“Don’t worry about that. Worry about how many well meaning but offensive things Mother is going to say. We can take bets if you- ow!”

“Jack!” Katherine whisper-yelled. “Jack Kelly!”

Jack turned around and startled at Katherine, who was standing in the dark alley.

“Kath? What the hell are you-”

“Listen! I was waiting for David to leave. When will he be back?”

“Like ten minutes? He went to make sure Les isn’t dead.”

“Okay, good.” She stepped out onto the sidewalk and brushed off her skirt.

“What the hell is going on? Why are you hiding in alleys?”

“One alley, not multiple,” she countered. “I needed to talk to you without David knowing.”

“About what?”

“About tonight.”

Jack rolled his eyes.

“I’ve spent the last four hours talking about tonight. He’s coming, I promise.”

“Four hours?”

“He’s like one big ball of anxiety but that ain’t new. What about tonight?”

Katherine sighed.

“I should’ve realized yesterday, but is David worried about bringing something? Ralph mentioned it and I thought that maybe-”

“Are you kidding me?” Jack rolled his eyes again and laughed humorlessly. “Of course he is!”

She felt a pit in her stomach and all she wanted was to give David a hug.

“What can I do to help?”

“Nothing. He’s got it covered, Ace, don’t worry about it.”

“But-”

“Seriously. I won’t tell him you asked but he’s my best friend and I don’t like lying to him so don’t put me in the middle, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks anyway, Jack.” She tried to leave but he stepped in her way.

“You need to relax too. There ain’t nothing you can do about it and there wouldn’t have been last night either.”

“Yeah. We just have to get through tonight and then-”

“What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean?”

Jack looked exasperated and borderline frustrated. He had the look on his face that Katherine wore when she listened to her coworkers talk about suffrage. It was a look that said “you’re an absolute idiot.”

“I mean, that it ain’t just tonight. He’s not gonna suddenly not be poor tomorrow. He’s gonna have to figure this out on every date and every time he sees your folks.” He must have noticed how distraught she was because he lightheartedly added, “Romance is expensive, Plumber. Don’t you remember that song Medda sang the day we met?”

“Seriously?” she hissed in Ralph’s ear. “This is the one time he comes home before ten and he’s being impatient with us? He’s the one who said six!”

“Relax, Kitty, it’s only quarter to. He’ll be here. Father can get over it. And you don’t have to whisper; there’s no way they can hear us.”

The two of them were waiting in the foyer with an annoyed footman who clearly wanted them gone, but Katherine wasn’t leaving David alone when he came in and Ralph wasn’t leaving Katherine to freak out by herself.

There was a knock at the door and the footman went to answer it.

“Uh, hello,” she heard David say, “my name is David and I’m here to Mr. and Mrs. Pulitzer and their daughter Ms. Pulitzer?”

Katherine smiled at his formality. It was a little bit adorable. He was let in and he handed a rather expensive looking bottle of whiskey to the footman and said, “this is a gift for Mr. and Mrs. Pulitzer.”

Where had that come from? She didn’t give herself time to think about it because once the footman was out of sight, Katherine pulled David into a hug.

“Hi.”

“Hi. Thank you for coming.”

“Of course. These are for you.” He handed her the bouquet of flowers he had behind his back. She smiled again and kissed his cheek.

Ralph cleared his throat.

“You know I don’t care, but technically you’re not supposed to be touching at all.”

David nodded.

“I know. It’s good to see you.”

“You as well. Are you ready to face the music, David?”

“No, but I don’t exactly have a choice.”

Katherine squeezed his hand one last time before letting go and following her brother’s lead. David looked ridiculously nervous but there wasn’t much she could do about it. As they walked towards the sitting room, the volume of the chatter and laughter increased.

It was a full house tonight. All five of Katherine’s siblings were there, as well as Ralph’s fiancée, Margaret; their uncle, Albert; their parents; and the children’s nanny, Mary. Katherine suspected her parents had done this on purpose to intimidate her date. She would have told David if she had known ahead of time but she hadn’t, which was probably the reason he looked so sick as they stepped into the room.

“Ah, Katherine, darling,” her mother said, “introduce us to your young man.”

When Ralph stepped out of the way so that people could see David, Pulitzer froze.

“You.”

“Father, please, be civil,” Ralph said tersely.

“I’m sorry, do you know this young man, Joseph?” Mrs. Pulitzer asked. “What’s your name?”

“David Jacobs, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for having me in your lovely home.”

Pulitzer didn’t say anything as David was introduced one by one to each family member, he just stood still.

“Joseph,” Mrs. Pulitzer said, as David stood awkwardly, waiting for a greeting before sitting down, as was proper. Katherine tried not to be too proud of him for staying so composed but it was hard. “What’s wrong?”

He ignored her and turned to Katherine.

“Did you do this to incite me, Katherine?”

“What? Of course not! I like David because I like David. Believe it or not, not every second of my life is spent trying to find ways to frustrate you.”

“Too many of them are,” he grumbled. “Fine.” He walked towards David and shook his hand aggressively. “I trust you’re well, Mr. Jacobs.”

“Yes, sir, and yourself?”

“Fine.” He sat and Ralph invited David to sit in between himself and Uncle Albert. Katherine really wished that he was allowed to sit next to her instead. She wanted to give him a kiss on the forehead and make him feel better.

Maybe she was projecting, though. It was entirely possible that she felt worse than David did at the moment. After all, he had fought her father on a much more public stage than this sitting room and had come out on top.

“How is it that you know David, Father?” Constance asked.

“David sells my papers. Don’t you, boy?”

His wife glared at him.

“Yes, sir, I do,” David said proudly, although Katherine could tell it was mostly an act.

“Oh,” he mother said, “so…you’re a newsboy then?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“David’s also a student at St. George’s,” Katherine interjected.

“Are you?”

“Yes, ma’am, I am. Right now I’m taking some time off to support my family but I hope to graduate at the end of this year.”

“What is it that you want to do?” Uncle Albert asked. “Any ambitions?”

“I’m not entirely sure yet, sir.” While that was technically true, Katherine knew he had ideas of what he wanted to do, neither of which it was likely her father would approve of. David thought he might want to be a labor organizer of some kind, but there was zero money in that.

His other idea, the one he had had for a long time, was that he might want to be a rabbi. He wasn’t sure that he did anymore, or so he told Katherine. She knew that her father would eventually realize just how brilliant David was and that when he did, he would be upset if he didn’t spend his life as a writer or politician or mathematician or something of the like.

“That’s certainly a twist,” her father commented. “The lady with career aspirations and the boy without.”

“I have aspirations, sir, I’m just not sure through which career I’d like to channel them.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Katherine saw both Edith and Ralph make little tick marks in the air that, had she not been looking, she wouldn’t have noticed. They had told her earlier that they would be keeping score to see who won the night: their father or David. Katherine thought they were ridiculous.

“And how did you meet our dear Katherine?” Mrs. Pulitzer asked him.

“During the newsies strike, ma’am. She was invaluable to the cause and it was an honor to have her write about it.”

Pulitzer huffed but Constance spoke before he could say anything.

“Can one of you tell us the story? I want to hear how you met.”

Katherine looked to David.

“The floor’s yours, miss.”

She almost choked on nothing when he called her that. She should have been expecting it, she supposed. The boys often mocked David about the formal rules he had had to follow at St. George’s. It made sense that he would have been schooled in etiquette.

“Well,” she began hesitantly, “I met David’s friend Jack a few days beforehand. The strike began and when I learned he was their leader I went to find him and I met David.”

Constance looked to David inquisitively.

“Newsies have leaders?”

“Uh, yes, miss,” he answered a little awkwardly. “I was surprised to learn how structured the newsboys and girls of New York are. The person Ms. Pulitzer was referring to, Jack, is the leader for lower Manhattan and the president of the union which is citywide.”

“Are you a leader?”

“No, miss, not really.”

“He’s being modest,” Ralph said, clapping him on the shoulder. “David’s the union’s vice president, right?”

“Um…yes, sir, technically.”

“Well are you or aren’t you?” Pulitzer asked.

“Yes, but there’s politics involved, sir.”

“Yes,” Katherine took over for David, who sent her a thankful look, “like David said, it’s surprising how structured it is and how complicated.”

“How does it work?” Her father suddenly seemed curious.

“Fath-”

“I’m asking Mr. Jacobs. How does it work?”

“I…I’m sorry but I can’t discuss that with you, sir.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m loyal to the union.”

“So not to my daughter then?” Katherine was going to scream at her father later for putting David through this.

“I’m very loyal to your daughter, Mr. Pulitzer, but it’s not her who’s asking.” There was a moment of tension (in which Ralph and Edith each made another tick mark). Luckily, the dinner bell rang.

In the dining room, David pulled out Katherine’s chair for her and once she was seated, he sat between Ralph and Joe.

The impression Katherine had gotten was that this would be a dinner that David happened to be attending, but it was quickly becoming clear that it was more of a dinner about David or, more accurately, about interrogating him.

“Tell us about your family, David,” Uncle Albert requested.

“There isn’t much to say, sir.”

“Nonsense. What does your father do?”

“He worked in a factory until recently.”

“But not now?”

“He was injured,” David explained.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” her mother said. “When was this?”

“About three months ago.”

“Is he any better?”

David smiled tightly.

“Some days are better than others.”

“So, he didn’t study then?” her father asked. “He’s uneducated?”

Katherine could practically feel David bristling. Most of the adults at the table gave her father pointed looks.

“He’s educated. He was a teacher back in Poland.”

“You’re immigrants?” Margaret asked. “When did you move here?”

“Almost ten years ago, miss.”

There was an awkward silence

“Why?” Joe asked, completely unaware.

“Let’s move on,” Ralph suggested. “What type of teacher, David?”

“Religious. He was the melamed in our village.”

“David’s mother was a surgeon’s assistant,” Katherine said, earning herself a glare. David was probably worried that her family wouldn’t approve and while outwardly that may have been true for some of them, they would be secretly impressed.

“Was she? Fascinating,” her mother said.

“Do you have any siblings?” Joe asked. “Because if you don’t you can take some of mine.” Her parents tried to look stern but everyone else laughed.

“I have two,” David said. “A sister and a brother.”

“They’re both great,” Katherine told her family.

“You’ve met them?” her uncle asked. “Have you been to Mr. Jacobs’ home, then?” He looked like he was about to lose it.

“No,” Katherine assured. “Les is a newsboy and Sarah helped with the strike. So no, I haven’t been. Yet.”

“He’ll be fine, Katherine,” Margaret told her as they sat in the sitting room after dinner, “Ralph will make sure of it.”

David was in her father’s study with her brother and uncle, and Katherine was sitting with the other women and her younger brothers. She could picture the tense look on David’s face. He was likely miserable and it was all because of her.

“He’s very charming, dear,” her mother said comfortingly.

“Yeah,” she replied distractedly. “What do you think they’re talking about?”

“Oh, you know your father. He’s probably boring him with business and-”

“He’s not going to talk to David about business, Mother.” She turned to her. “What do you think of him?”

“I already said that I think he’s charming.”

“So is President McKinley but you don’t like him.”

Her mother sighed.

“He’s very sweet, Katherine, and clearly he cares about you a lot, but…darling, he’s penniless.”

“I don’t care about that. It’s not like we’re exactly lacking in funds.”

“It’s inappropriate to marry outside of your social class.”

Katherine and David hadn’t discussed marriage yet. Why would they have? They’d been together for less than two months. She knew, however, that courtship usually revolved around the idea of getting married and so it made sense that her mother would be thinking about it.

“Who cares? I’ve met the type of men you’d prefer me to marry and I’ve been mingling with them my whole life. The handful of people you and father expect me to choose between…David’s better then all of them put together.”

“Katherine-”

“He’s smarter, too.”

“You don’t know that.”

“He’s seventeen and he and a bunch of friends beat Father, Reid, and Hearst.”

“Katherine!” Her mother looked scandalized.

“Well, they did,” Edith mumbled.

“I get that you have concerns but I’ve already told you how I feel.”

“And how’s that?”

“That I’ll marry who I want, when I want, or I won’t marry at all.”

“Marriage is wonderful, sweetheart. It’s very rewarding and-”

“I’m sure it can be with the right person but none of the men you like for me are.”

“Then we’ll find someone else.”

Katherine shook her head adamantly.

“No. I like David.”

“Why, because he’d let you pursue your career?”

“He wouldn’t let me do anything. We see each other as equals.”

“Would he convert?”

“Did Father?”

“Would you be expected to convert?”

“I don’t know! Look, Mother, we haven’t even begun to discuss marriage. We’ve gone out together once and we’ve known each other for less than three months.”

“People marry in less than that.”

“Good for them. That isn’t what I want. Besides, he has to graduate first.”

“That’s another thing, Katherine. He’s not even graduated!”

“Neither was Ralph when we met,” Margaret pointed out. Katherine gestured to her.

“He wasn’t graduated from college, Margaret, there’s a difference. Does he plan on attending college?”

“I don’t know. Mother, I have to get to know him better. Can we just drop it for now? The whole marriage thing?”

“If you’re going to be courting him then you should talk about marriage.”

Katherine rolled her eyes.

“It’s different now.”

“Courting is a much better way to find a relationship. Katherine,” she said with a sigh, “you’re my daughter and I love you dearly. I only want what’s best for you.”

Katherine got up and went to sit next to her mother, taking her hands in her own.

“I know that, Mother, and I love you too. But just because it’s what you think is best for me doesn’t mean it is. If…if it makes you feel any better, I can envision myself having a future with David.”

“Do you love him?”

Katherine smiled.

“It’s too early for that, but I think I could. He’s…Mother, he’s the most amazing boy I’ve ever met. I don’t love him yet but I love things about him.”

“Like what?”

“He’s kind and generous and sweet and thoughtful and selfless to a fault. I know what Father expects for me in a husband but just because he isn’t rich doesn’t mean he can’t be those things. He’s brilliant enough to have gotten a scholarship to St. George’s. If Father is so concerned about the intelligence of who I’m with then David passes that test with flying colors.”

“That’s true,” Margaret said. “He kept up very well with the boys’ political talk and he seems to be an excellent conversationalist as well.”

“See?” Katherine gestured to Margaret. “I’m not the only person who thinks so.”

Her mother scrunched up her face as if she was thinking very hard

“You’d want to go by the name Jacobs instead of Pulitzer?”

“I already don’t go by Pulitzer professionally.”

“Where would you live, hmm? In a tenement? In the slums?”

“Mother, I told you I wasn’t thinking about marriage yet.”

“Well, you have to be! Do you want me to help you with your father or not?”

Katherine perked up.

“You’re okay with David?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea but he’s a lovely boy and I know that nothing I could say would dissuade you. I’ll give you two more months, and then you have to at least discuss marriage with him.”

“But, Mother, he-”

“Deal?” she repeated, leaving no room for argument. Katherine sighed but acquiesced. “Good. Once you do that I’ll talk to your father.”

“He would be angry about it for at least the next month even if I never saw David again, you know that.”

“And I’ll defend him but I won’t fight for his blessing until you-”

“I don’t care about his blessing,” Katherine argued.

“You do. Even if you don’t care about his opinion, he’s the one providing for you.”

“I have a job.”

“You think you’d be able to live like this on your salary?”

Katherine didn’t say anything. Margaret did her best to move the conversation along but the other girls only wanted to hear about David.

“Come on, Kitty, what was the first thing he said to you?” Constance asked.

“I don’t remember.”

“Why not?”

“Because there were about a million other boys in the room and I didn’t know I’d end up being interested in him so I didn’t pay that much attention to memorizing it.”

“You’re no fun. Does he tell you you’re pretty?”

“He has. And I think he’s pretty too.”Her sisters giggled.

When her mother left the room briefly, Edith looked around conspiratorially and asked, “Has he kissed you?”

“That’s an inappropriate question, Edith,” Margaret scolded. “That’s not our business. And don’t let your mother hear you asking it.”

Joe rolled his eyes.

“I don’t get it! Why would anybody want to kiss anybody else?”

“You’ll get it when you’re a little bit older. I didn’t want to kiss anybody at your age either, Joe.”

“And now you want to kiss my brother? Gross.”

“Hey, that’s not-” Margaret cut herself off when the men returned to the room.

“Say goodbye to Mr. Jacobs, everyone,” her father said sternly. When they did, Ralph offered to walk with him to the door so that Katherine could go too. Her father didn’t look happy but he didn’t comment.

In the foyer, Katherine wrapped her arms around him.

“Thank you, David. I’m sorry you had to sit through that.”

“That’s okay,” he said, “I don’t mind.”

“Did my father break your soul in there?” she asked.

Ralph and David chuckled.

“Actually, Father wholeheartedly approved of his choice in whiskey.”

Katherine stared at David questioningly.

“Where did you get that, by the way?”

“Denton has an absurd amount of alcohol in his apartment.” She laughed. “Thank you for inviting me. I hope I didn’t embarrass you too badly.”

Ralph turned away to give them some semblance of privacy.

“Oh, sweetheart, you didn’t embarrass me at all.”

“Really?” He breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, good. Do you think your family liked me?”

“My siblings and Margaret loved you and I think my mother tried her best not to, but did anyway.”

“And your uncle? I’m not even going to aim for your father.”

“I can never tell what he thinks but don’t worry, he’s moving back to Europe soon, so who cares?”

He laughed.

“I should probably go so I’m not chased out.” David took her hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed it softly. “Thank you for everything.”

“Thank you. Can I come by your selling spot tomorrow and see you?”

“Please do. Good night.”

“Good night.”

He said good night to Ralph and left.

“How did it go in the study?” she asked him.

“It went about as well as can be expected. Father tried to embarrass him and David didn’t let him. He’s quick, that boy of yours. But he was also respectful so Father can’t say anything on that front.”

“I’m glad. That’s a relief.”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen someone who has clearly never been in high society before be so versed in the ridiculous etiquette of courtship,” he said, walking with her back to their family. “I know he was taught it at school, but still. Most of the other boys have occasion to use it.”

“Now he does too, if our father doesn’t disown me first. So, yes? You think it was a success overall?”

“Well, I have to confer with Edith but by my count-”

“Shut up.”

#newsies #newsies fanfiction #a new beginning series #katherine pulitzer #katherine plumber #david jacobs #davey jacobs #davey/katherine #daverine #stella writes stuff

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