#love the name tho. ordinary cafe.

[whatwouldmickeydo]

Tag Game Tuesday (look at me posting on the actual day!): 🌸✨ Spring Edition 🌸✨

Thank you beloved @celestialmickey for creating this and to the chickadees for tagging me @too-schoolforcool @iansfreckles @gardenerian @metalheadmickey

your name: leah

where in the world are you: the home of jug handles

your favorite color: blues and greens and everything in between

a song that always puts you in a good mood: dani california by the rhcp - my favorite song to blast to get the blood pumpin

your favorite flower: I’ve been infatuated with all the different blooms of dahlias lately

it’s a beautiful sunny day and you’re going on a picnic with friends. what snack are you bringing to share?: my babe. darling. beloved. the question is what am i NOT bringing because i am incapable of selecting just one thing. i’m bringing a comfy blanket and a dozen snacks and flowers and presents and cute plates to eat on and a tiny radio and a small cooler for yummy drinks and maybe even some throw pillows if i can fit it all in my car

bumblebees or butterflies?: ooo I love both but I discovered about myself when I visited the Schmetterlinghaus in Austria that I am actually afraid of butterflies 😅 so I will be selecting bumblebees. The butterflies are more than welcome to flit in the meadow nearby tho!

describe your ideal weather: blue, blue skies high 50s, low 60s with a slight breeze and a bit of cloud cover but with the sun peeking out every so often to bath us in her heavenly glow

what are you reading right now: giovanni’s room by james baldwin

museum date or nature walk?: both duh. we get drinks beforehand and meander through the woods to get to the museum and then we go to a thrift store after and then to a cute cafe where they’re playing some light music and they have the twinkly lights on and the weather is perfect for sitting outside and talking about what a good day we had

it’s movie night in the park and your turn to choose, what are we watching?: my first instinct is to say the princess bride but I would like to put forth get over it instead

and finally, share some sunny words for your friends & followers:

i shall leave you instead with my favorite poem :

At lunchtime I bought a huge orange—

The size of it made us all laugh.

I peeled it and shared it with Robert and Dave—

They got quarters and I had a half.

And that orange, it made me so happy,

As ordinary things often do

Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park.

This is peace and contentment. It’s new.

The rest of the day was quite easy.

I did all the jobs on my list

And enjoyed them and had some time over.

I love you. I’m glad I exist.

— Wendy Cope

—————-

I hope you find happiness in the simple things and that you feel alive in your existence 💕✨

Tagging some sweet blueberries @whatthebodygraspsnot @mishervellous @creepkinginc @thisdivorce @sickness-health-all-that-shit @gallawitchxx @you-are-so-much-better-than-that @greggster @self-absorbed-pretty-boy @y0itsbri @squidyyy23 @rereadanon @oatmilkovich @babygirlmickey @vintagelacerosette @crossmydna

[happyheidi]

(via)

[traghoul]

essentially ,   seiji’s ‘main’ non ghoul verse she’s simply a girl that’s doing her best !  she works erratic shifts at a 24/7 day care center.  she makes good money but more than once she’s used portions of her pay to help cover the ‘tuition’ of a child whose parent(s) are struggling that month.  ( she’s an employee so she gets a discount. )  her father pays her rent perpetually so it’s not like she’s worried about her housing situation,  but money can get tight with her hobbies,   cats ,  ‘relationship situations’ .  ( as  we know ,  she has her biological half brother, adoptive brother & adoptive sister via a ‘normal’ byoki.    occasionally she works as detective-for-hire aka song seiji ! professional (not really) snooper !

i was being nosy and i think the layout of her apartment would be something like this.   enough for her ,  mittens ,   her video games etc.  seiji’s not much of a cook so she’s a frequenter at the local corner store or (more likely) getting things delivered. her neighbors are an older couple that worry for her alot and she comes home sometimes to container of fresh food with a note saying she shouldn’t eat so much candy.

relationship wise? her mother is deceased.   a large amount of her internal trauma (across all verses but peaking in her ghoul verse ) comes from finding her mothers body in the bath as a child.   she was an artist / illustrator.  she used to draw things for both her children -  they would say what their imaginary friend was or what dreams they’d have,  and she’d come back later with a watercolor picture or a doodle.   (    it’s why seiji likes people drawing for her so much ! )   her mother never married her or eiji’s respective fathers.   [ seiji wasn’t an expected baby but her mother loved her very much ! ]  as such,   her father came into the picture after her mother died. he traveled too much & seiji didn’t wanna keep moving so eventually a friend of her mother’s (byoki) helped her get settled in as an independent.   she was introduced to her new siblings in middle school.  they adore her but who wouldn’t adore seiji!  

as i’ve said - eiji is a culinary student.   he works at a restaurant during the week and then once a week he helps out at a friend’s thrift / vintage shop ( stashing the best stuff for his sisters - how do u think seiji n’ juno are so cool. ) a newcomer into the cooking world,  but he’s already showing out & is a rising star. noboru is finishing up his degree and following in the path of a true ‘author’ -  working at a cafe and visiting bookstores on the weekend.  he has won a number of writing awards.  his debut novel is HIGHLY anticipated  miss juno is the most prolific of them all - living that jetsetting cover of elle magazine model life.     seiji thinks all her siblings are  VERY cool and in comparison,  she feels very ordinary and a bit like she’s not good like them.

she was an average high school student.   again, she tried her best so while she was never in the top of her class she was always passing!   sometimes she’d even do above expectations! ( which resulted in a cake from her siblings. )  admittedly,  she didn’t have too many friends ( her bestie makima moved to a new city.   they still talk weekly tho! ) & between her shyness & her anxiety stutter,  she often got bullied by high school boys.   

one such boy eventually became her ‘boyfriend of sorts.  his last name’s not important for this post,  but kenta became her boyfriend in their final year of school.    privately though.  he was fairly ( to extremely) popular and a good student and how could one expect to be seen with the ‘painfully average girl who looks like she crawled out of the morgue’ -  his words.   seiji didn’t mind though!  she was happy that someone liked her.   everyone fawned over her siblings while they were in school & seiji felt left behind!  but not anymore !  she’s got herself a popular boy that likes her !   seiji’s light of the relationship is still colored through rose colored glasses - so she can’t be trusted to give a proper reflection of it.   (  what everyone close to her saw was someone controlling ,  mean , somehow neglectful & manipulative. )    as yuu knows quite well ,  he was quite forceful in ensuring seiji did’t do anything not approved by him.    however their relationship ended when she came over unexpectedly,  saw a girl from his university in a state of semi - undress and having the door slammed in her face after he said very choice things.  ( she doesn’t like to talk about it still.  unfortunately,  he’s doing quite well in university & his karma hasn’t caught up with him. ) 

i’ve spoken briefly about her history with self injury before.  i don’t see the need rehash that here ( we’re all already a bit upset after that previous paragraph ) but between that and the fact that she often trips in her platforms ,  it’s not uncommon for her to have bandages!  she’s a frequent at the clinic!    that aside though !  her hobbies are independent clothes design ,  ( she’s really good at it indie designer seiji when ! ) ,  skateboarding ( in her sk8 verse,  she’s a skater known as the ghouligan!  the only female skater thus far ) ,  playing her guitar and singing.    because she’s designing things,  she’s trying to work up the nerve to go buy a sketchbook!

main verse fc     /          high school fc    /         live action fc

+ this gif is actually her snoopin’ 

that’s all i can think of off the top of my head just know seiji song is doing her best and existing as part of the bunny brigade!

[docholligay]

"Healing is a small and ordinary and very burnt thing. And it's one thing and one thing only: it's doing what you have to do." -Cheryl Strayed

This is a very rambling sort of thing, but it’s a thing I’ve wanted to write, and as I’ve been having spectacular trouble writing anything lately I decided to go with it. Thanks to @katrani for sponsoring! Takes place in MaS. 

The sun rose in Paris. 

It had probably also, Michiru reasoned, risen in Tokyo, but she had not been able to see these things. Tokyo was where Haruka had been, and then wasn’t, and for that reason she found the entire place completely unforgivable. It is a strange thing, to have a human being own an entire sprawling city, and yet in Michiru’s heart, Haruka did. 

Tokyo. Michiru would never have stayed there but for Haruka’s love. It had belonged to her brother before it had belonged to Haruka, and oh how delightful to discover that it had been meant for someone else all along! How could Michiru have been so foolish as to imagine the bustling noodle shops with rich, thick broth and 1000 yen specials had been built for him? How could the cherry blossoms, pink as her cheeks when she blushed, be meant for a man whose soul was without beauty? He could could walk carelessly through the food halls, but Haruka prickled with delight at every booth, because they were meant for her. The sneaking alleys full of bars in Shinjuku, the kaleidoscope of lights and sounds as tourists and locals alike passed in Shibuya, even the lined streets of her own childhood district, all had been built for the pleasure of one Haruka Tenoh. 

It was a dead place, now, signifying nothing. A place where the forest had burnt to ash, and her heart was the same. 

She had left Tokyo because she had to. She could not survive it. This might have sounded cruel, considering her children, but her children were not of Tokyo so much as they lived there. Her children were of her own heart, and she could see any city in the world and be reminded of them. But Haruka was of Tokyo, and so Michiru had to leave it before the ghosts of Haruka’s love suffocated her. 

MIchiru had been here for three weeks. Haruka had always hated Paris, even before she had to attempt to navigate it in a wheelchair, and so it had always uniquely belonged to Michiru. She brought her girls here every year, to practice and shop and sip in the wine bars. It was her sharing something of herself with them, in a way she could not quite define. Perhaps she would live here forever. Perhaps she could never bear the pain of returning. 

It was impossible. She could not, she knew, so long as she was as bound to Haruka as Haruka to Tokyo. One or the other would have to uncouple in order to allow her back. But how could Tokyo, and how could she, belong to more than one person, ever? Especially that person being Haruka, who she had loved since she was a child? 

She laughed, a little. She had thought of herself as a woman in those days, like a fool. 

And so, because Tokyo had belonged to Haruka, she had to leave it. You cannot rebuild in a house that is on fire, Michiru had reasoned. She could no more stay where they had raised their children then she could wade into the into Tokyo Bay and hope to come out on the other side. There were things a human body could not bear. 

Her daughters had understood, at the least. Tokyo was burned for her, and so she had to try and grow something elsewhere, and the run rose in Paris. The sun rose, and the flower sellers painted the side streets with bright washes of color and rich perfumes in the air, and for a moment Michiru knew what it was to be a girl again, the excitement of walking the bridges and getting ice cream on the Ile Saint-Louis, hearing the tolling of the Notre Dame bells. 

Paris bubbled like champagne at her nose, the poetry of French filling her ears.

“Japanese is not much of a sea language.” She stood, wrapping herself warmly in a cashmere cape against the chill of the evening, “It is, I think, the language of a cliff face.”

“Uh,” Haruka’s face furrowed in confusion, “It’s...babe, Japan is surrounded by the ocean.” 

Michiru laughed as she passed the wine bar she frequented, Haruka’s young face clearly in her mind, allowing the pain that accompanied it, and waving it off like smoke in the darkness. 

She laughed then, too. 

“No, of course my love, what I mean to say is, Japanese is so very brisk, and sharp. It is ice, maybe, and rocks, and,” She looking dreamily out at the ocean, “defined. The sea is undulous and constantly sliding one bit into the next. It is watercolor and wave. Perhaps like French. Perhaps that’s why I’ve been happy there.” 

“I dunno if I want to give the ocean to France, just saying.” She pulled her knees up on the rock where they sat, and shrugged, “I like Japanese.” 

Michiru would have laughed, then, and told her she had experience with nothing else, but she knew even as early as it was that would hurt her, make her feel less-than, that she would tell herself she was stupid. It was true, that Haruka had never understood, even as she struggled to try and make a real show of learning English. The soul of a language, the art of the way it fell in the air, each language had a different sort of style, and to know many was to move from one museum room to the next. 

Immersing herself in the warm bath of French was like slipping into the Mediterranean sea, so different from where she had been and yet a place she always knew she would come back to. There was nothing sharp on the ear, no ending that reminded her of a certain social position or moment, nothing that echoed back the perfect syllables of Haruka’s name. 

She had divorced herself from the idea so entirely that when a pair of Japanese tourists had asked for directions, she had pretended not to understand. Rei would have snorted and called her petty, more than likely, and perhaps she would not be wrong, but it was Michiru’s life to live, in any case. To live. She had the right to go on. She had the right to do whatever it took to breathe again. 

She should write Rei. She certainly intended to. Michiru had left Tokyo so quickly, and though she had told everyone where she was going, and though she spoke to her children, always in French, which they were polite enough to make little comment of, it was simply too much to pick up the phone when Rei called. 

It was more than just Tokyo. It was more than just Japan. It was that so many years after everything had happened, Michiru sometimes still looked to her right hand, now weakened, and wondered if she’d lost the ring. A teal aquamarine, framed by the delicate swirl of silver water. Rei’s had almost seemed to belong to a queen, lacking the delicacy of Michiru’s. It had changed on their hand. It knew them. It bound them together. 

She could think of nothing else, when she spoke to Rei. She did not blame the moon for Haruka’s death, not even Michiru could be that silly, but she had been angry forevermore that she had the moon to thank for the gift of Haruka. Rei reminded her of that gift, wrapped herself by the moon and delivered in friendship to Michiru’s hands. 

But she should write her. A postcard, if nothing else. To tell her that she was doing well, that her apartment was quite lovely, and she had taken to eating at a small brasserie nearby for most of her dinners. That she had taken care to drink something other than wine, most nights. That the view of the city charmed. 

She had even purchased a postcard, some silly thing for one euro that had a filter-toned view down a small street, flowers and the red door of a bakery laid perfectly against the grey of the ancient stone. She’d purchased it two days ago, and imagined, since then, what she would say. A postcard is, of course, the most gracious of correspondence in such times, leaving you little room to have to say all the things people would like. Two sentences, perhaps. 

Still, she could not say them. She opened the door to her apartment, and scolded herself once again. When had she ever balked from confrontation? Confrontation, she laughed. Rei was her friend. She certainly wouldn’t be pleased that she hadn’t heard from Michiru for weeks, but it was ridiculous of her to assume Rei would wish to fight with her. 

Thus resolved, Michiru sat down to her small desk near the bar cart, and set the postcard in front of her. The pen was heavy and cool in her hand, stone and metal waiting to express itself on the page. 

I am well. Paris is lovely. 

She discarded the idea before she ever wrote it out. It was such a nicety as to nearly be dishonesty. She and Rei hardly had such a surface relationship, and it was an unkindness to treat it as such. She pulled a dram of gin and lillet from the bar cart. That was the entire purpose in having it there, after all. Really, it should be chilled, but if one cannot drink lukewarm gin as a recent widow swanning about a Parisian apartment, when could one? 

Paris is ever so lovely this time of year, and I have plenty of room if ever you would like to visit. 

Michiru shook her head, laughing at herself again, the foolish and selfish child she always was inside of her. She did not want Rei to visit. She had no desire to take Rei to the little cafes and shops near her apartment, to lie with her by the river and eat a baguette with some cheese. She didn’t want to take a train to London for the weekend, the two of them holed up in the Ritz, lunching with oysters and champagne. She loved Rei, and Rei was a reminder of an entire life that now cut with furious line through her, and both of these things could be true and terrible. 

Haruka has been dead for six weeks, and I cannot bear to be reminded of her. 

Michiru had meant not to write that, either, and she certainly hadn’t meant to write it in Japanese, the characters of Haruka’s name stark against the cream of the postcard, the black ink already drying, impossible to remove. She turned the postcard over with irritation, only to see that she had written so hard those characters poked through the Parisian alleyway, nestling in next to the flowers. 

She downed the gin and lillet--it wanted for a bit of citrus, but needs must--in one sharp quaff, and looked out the glass door to her balcony. It was spring, and yet still here in Paris the winter clung on at the corners, the sun lowering in the sky even in the late afternoon, slipping below the parapets of stone. Michiru touched her hand to the raised flowers, and then snatched up the postcard, flicking a match and setting fire to the edge of it before she quite knew what she was doing. She dropped the match on the desk, extinguishing it, but continued to stare at the burning card, Haruka’s name beginning to meld with the blackness of what had gone through the flame. 

She tossed it into her metal wastebin, atop the others she had failed to send. 

The sun set in Paris too, the red of it catching the city on fire, that burnt thing that would help her to rise.

[unikornu]

Page 9, The Right Rythm

-Slow down there Boss, we are just halfway through the evening. Gage snapped the beer from Lucy's hand and took a sip himself. They were sitting at the corner table in Cappy's Cafe while the pack was drinking themselves dead after getting the news about taking Safari park. Keith was almost running around them trying to keep up with delivering the drinks to the thirsty savages and not to slip on blood that he still didn't manage to clean after last fool that tried to push on alpha crap against Mason. Meanwhile Lauren was just happy to squeeze more caps and making sure no one is disturbing the business couple, having her shotgun ready under the bar.  

- Hey, cmon i deserve a break after dealing with that rampage zoo crocodiles... she rolled her eyes and sighted deeply. 

-Gators, Boss...they are gators. Not crocodiles, jezz. Have a bit of respect since they almost tore us apart. Gage shook a finger in her face and passed the bottle back.  -And, hey that is actually my beer, get your own booze woman. Gage protested but she turned away and gulped down everything that was left.

  -You mean that "was" your beer. Ye...sorry, i forgot my "purse" at home. She hiccupped and smiled with one corner of her lips. He scratched the back of his head and looked away trying to stay serious.

  It has been a completely crazy turn around in her life, from being lost and lonely, squeezed between what is right and not, almost giving up on herself. Now she is the leader to the people for which rules exist only to not kill each other and in the name of profit. Nisha was damn right about it at least. The rules..they stopped existing at the moment people started dropping bombs on each other officially.

 Lucy kissed goodbye her pre-war memories and moral backbone once again in Far Harbor, the night that Nucleus threw away its last radioactive breath in the air. She wasn't saint back then, before the bombs either, having a loving partner, living good, almost luxurious life while working with one of the most crooked figures in the crime society as personal assistant and agent. Once it was all gone within one explosion she missed mostly the warm and calm feeling, landing up in the bed, feeling safe with someone who she trusts and trusts her back. Now, passing each week in Nuka World it feels again like she has that warm spot again but this time it's better because no lies were included, to anyone, not even herself. Crime life was luring her from the very beginning to its bloody and thirsty claws but she wanted to be smart about it, not getting caught guaranteed that wheels and cogs kept moving forward into the direction they wanted, not the one they are told to pick. And justice was always served blindly and flat, rules were rules and no one cared about flipping the coin to the other side or treating each case in its own light. And she never dared to question her pre-war boss who trainer her and shaped into the sharpest tool he could ever have. 

 Lucy muttered under her nose being lost in her philosophical thoughts and past, staring at the raiders in the background but she snapped out when the cold wet glass touched her shoulder. 

-Lets have another round and then head back, taking another park doesn't mean that the job is done for us eh? She took a beer he handed her opening slightly her mouth to say something but nothing came out. 

-You okay, Boss? You seemed very interested into the void you've been staring at the last five minutes while i was trying to get us beer without punching anyone on the way. Raider sat back across the table and raised a bottle to give it a gentle hit with hers before taking a long sip. 

-Gage...what made you the person you are now? I would like to hear your part of the past since we seem to be stuck together a while now. 

-How i became a foul mouthed one eyed son of a bitch? He pushed his chair closer and crossed his both hands on the table. -Ye...well, fair enough but that will cost us yet another beer. 

Lucy managed to scrape few more caps from the pocket and pushed them towards him. - I'm all ears then.

- I grew up in a typical settlement like many out there, being an ordinary kid but i realized fast that my parents were just a couple of pushovers, cowards, same as the rest of dem folks...no one there would stand up for himself and as a kid i couldn't understand why. Was pretty much rebellious from the start, rules were not to my liking too much...so one day i see them kneeling down again because of some stupid fuck with a gun and i just realized i won't end up like them, not like this. Gage poped a cigarette from the pack and light it up while continuing his story on how he was also lost, looking for a place that would make his guts feel right while trying to get by day by day doing various jobs and assisting in caravans. 

-They always took what they wanted and were on their way, no talking, no deals, just pure will to do what you want, take what you want to survive. Those were the only rules that made sense and stick to my head back then so when i met a gang again i joined up and worked my way up, all the way here. The only reason i ain't dead yet tho is that i knew how to put a barrier between doing what ya want and losing control. He popped open a lighter and put a fire under a cigarette that Lucy gently placed between her lips. 

-What about you, Boss? We all know your famous story of being the living human ice cube but...what was before exactly, that gal like you wants to nest with a bunch of dirty bastards like us even after war, hm? He scanned her smooth face ignoring the scar across her eye as he saw enough of them in his life and smashed the cigarette in the ashtray. 

-Well, back then being the one against the rules would put you very fast out of the game, in jail or worse and i didn't want that to happen. Seeing the world out of system and its underground opened my eyes too. I thought that becoming a lawyer i would be de one serving the right justice but i realized my hands were always tied by someone above...the system so i...took the other path and did what i think was right. Secretly turned to a crime part of life, saw all of it. Fell deeper and deeper and became liking it, living it, maybe a bit too much at times. And now this world...? No laws, no jail, everyone with his own life and gun, it just feels...right, for me at least. I don't have to lie anymore to anyone.  She puffed a cloud of smoke into Gage's face and finished her beer. 

As the time passed half of the raiders were dead drunk lying down all over the cafe. Gage and Lucy decided its a good moment to leave so they stood up from the table and walked over the drunks while heading to the exit. 

They strolled back to Fizztop in silence, side by side, she knew her right hand man wasn't much of a talker so he had his well deserved break of silence, all the way to the top. It didn't last any longer tho. She turned on the radio and took her metal chest piece down, throwing it to the side. 

- I have a gift for you...but i will want something in return. She kneeled next to bed pulling something round and white from under it, hiding it in her arms as she approached him at the couch.  

-What kind of gift it is then that ya want something back for it eh? Gage was sitting on the couch like a true raider, with his arms crossed and legs spread awaiting for the reveal of surprise. 

-Well, we are raiders after all huh, nothin ain't free like that? Anyway...i noticed you seem to be fond of certain...creatures while they were trying to eat us alive and i stumbled upon this in the pool in the reptile house. Gage relaxed his arms slowly and stood up with a surprised look in his eyes as she reveled her gift. It was...shiny and round, barely damaged.

 -Boss...is it... a goddamnfucking  gator egg? I...ayee.. dunno wut to say, shit. Will it actually...you know, pop out at some point? He asked and took it gently with his both hands running the fingers across the smooth shell and then putting it carefully on the pillow at the couch. - It might actually. Would be a decent addition once Mason or you train it properly. She nodded at him, her arms crossed this time, tapping a finger against her upper arm awaiting to hear the magic words that for Gage felt almost like grinding a sand paper against his tongue. 

-Fuck...thank you, Boss. I will try not to break it i swear. There it was, finally. He smiled at her but this time it was a truly honest smile, the one that very few had occasion to see. 

-Now my part of the deal big guy, dance with me. Gage smile turned fast into a half opened mouthed expression. 

-Pardon...wut? Dance? Hell no. He shook his head and watched her snatching two shots of whiskey and coming back right at him. 

-Cmoooon, this will help to loose that tension both in your legs and your head, and we are alone. Cmoon Gage, just one dance, i wouldn't trust anyone else with it after all those years... Her words, the trust, felt honest and warm in his ears. 

-Shit...fine. But just that one time, Boss. I'm embarrassing myself here. He sighted and took down a shot in one gulp. They threw the empty shots away, the glass shattering into small pieces on the floor. He untied his rusty gold armor and threw it to the side letting it slide away. 

-Let me show ya, and no back stabbing okay? Lucy joked and gently took his right hand and placed it on her back while putting her left hand right under back of his shoulder. Then she raised her right hand and ordered him to do the same.

-Stabbing...with this kind of dancing they were almost asking for it. 

He tried not to look directly in her amber shiny eyes reflecting the night lights of Grillie's bar but it was proving difficult with so little free space left between them. As she started to guide him slowly after few stiff steps he finally gave in and relaxed. Did he felt embarrassed swinging around like that? Yeah. But deal is a deal and after so much effort and blood and bullets put together into taking the Nuka World he could let himself be embarrassed like that for a few minutes in exchange. Beside both of them could finally admit that they trust each other at this point, a bit at least.    

[wri0thesley]

i don’t have a set backstory or whatever for any of my self-inserts, ebbing and flowing is the name of the game, but here are some of my favourites:

- secret marriage. your boy wants to keep you away from his life (possibly he’s never even told you he’s in the mafia) - but he’s utterly committed to you and proved it by putting a ring on your finger. so what if the witnesses were two people you’d begged on the street to do it and they clearly thought you were eloping? your husband comes home and kisses you on the mouth and you do not say anything about the flecks of blood on his shirt. this is a big prosciutto mood.

- you’re still a secret, but you do know what your boyfriend(s) do for a living. you and they just don’t want you involved in it; perhaps they’re clinging to you as their one hint of normalcy. you do all of the boring, uninteresting homemaking stuff but you’re supported by the frankly obscene amount of money they shower you with. 

- you meet your man online. i like the idea of s/o being a camgirl or some kind of sex worker for this one; not necessarily a prostitute (tho ofc there’s nothing wrong with that!), but i tend to imagine this as a diavolo mood and i don’t think he’d be interested in someone who is so much more . . . social. with a camgirl though, he can tip you more obscene amounts of money and pay for your private time and have you make content specifically to his specifications; have his men tail you. offer you a life-changing amount of money for a single in person encounter - and if you stay with him forever after that? that was probably his game plan. 

- someone who does something mundane and ordinary. a waitress at a cafe, an usher at the theatre - someone who works behind the counter at a sweet shop or a bookshop. the man comes to love seeing you day to day, can’t stop flirting with you, is just softly doting on seeing you and your laugh and your smile. he flirts with you and pretends he is an ordinary man, trying to keep his identity hidden. 

- someone else who works in passione. a new recruit to la squadra or buccellati’s gang. they try and be stern with you (or joke with you, depending on the man), but are aware that their interest in you is more than professional. it ends up being easier - you both know the risks of your job. but there are reasons relationships among such workers are discouraged, and eventually you will have to make a choice: your mission or your lover?

- someone else who works for a passione enemy. i love this one especially with sorbet and gelato; another assassin or hitman who perhaps works for a different organisation (or is freelance) and just so happens to be assigned hits they’re supposed to be doing. they’re grudgingly impressed by your quick wit but dejected that you’re doing their job for them. they begin to seek you out of their own volition. they’re aware what they’re doing is taboo and they should kill you where you stand but you’re just so fascinating - and eventually, they think, they can convince you round to their side. they’re willing to argue and advocate for you, despite the question of your loyalties. 

[raysoldblog]

I was tagged by @adhdcaptain-kirk​

rules suggestion: tag ten followers you want to get to know better.

name: Ray

gender: tired i go with cis girl i guess but i’m into neutral pronouns too

star sign: cancer

height: 5′2″ short

age: 19, going 20 this year

sexuality: i like a lot of people??? but there’s not always a pattern

house: i used to be hufflepuff but now i’m ravenclaw?? character development

what image do you have as your wallpaper? on my phone theres a picture of a rock cliff i took near my city. i absolutely adore it. on my laptop they automatically cycle between different ones - mostly plants or cool pictures of objects

have you ever had a crush on a teacher? i wish i could say no, but alas. only platonic crushes tho ofc. i’ve never had a teacher young enough for me to have an actual crush on. i definitely intellectually crushed really hard on my first philosphy teacher. and now me & some girl friends are just fangirls at heart of this uni professor of ours. i swear we started out 100% ironically and yet here we are

where do you see yourself in ten years? restless. feet perpetually aching, yet going. curious, but always satisfying my curiousity. bolder. taking risks. drawing, painting, writing for a living. and learning, learning, learning. i don’t know if still in my home city or anywhere else. but somewhere i surrounded myself with interesting people; burning with passion, living the things i was always content just dreaming. perhaps happy. (and feeling real 100% of the time)

if you could be anywhere else right now, where? at a cafe or on a roadtrip or anywhere else full of life with my big time crush. or in a wood-walled room filled with rugs and pillows, a ray of sunlight shining through the window and warming up the room. or somewhere else entirely from my dreams, i guess. i think i’d like to be dreaming; and i’d love for it to be real.

what was your coolest halloween costume? i haven’t dressed up for halloween since i was a kid!! i guess the coolest costume was this home-made donald duck one. but the one i liked best was this store bought witch costume - all purple except for the black hat. i have some pics of me in it, and they’re some of the only pictures of me as a kid i really like!!! plus, witches rock

what was your favorite 90′s show? i watched too little tv to pick an absolute favourite. i liked a lot of stuff

have you ever been to Las Vegas? i’ve never been to america at all!

favorite pair of shoes? the ones that just broke ;’^( a pair of black camper-like boots with dark red shoelaces... i really do need more than one pair of shoes at a time, though.

favorite book? hands down, the little prince (by antoine de saint-euxpéry). it’s my bible. the one book i read at least once a year and that manages to have me crying. every. time. not a year passes that i don’t find that book had something else to teach me. something new for me to learn. i hope the day never comes that i open that book to find i have nothing more to find there for me.

the stupidest thing you’ve ever done: i have a p bad memory and lived a p ordinary life but i guess i have a pair?? i once had a lock&key pair (the crappy ones that come with children’s diaries, you know?). one day i open the lock, and i notice that the key has this hole... just big enough.... for the upper part of the locket to fit it........ it tooke me some time to realize i had just sealed the lock for good, closing it’s key in it. but it left me quite astonished just how stupid i was. but tbh.... what takes the cake is this. when i was a kid i once just up and went to where my mom was ironing some clothes and just. took the boling hot iron and stamped it right up my dumb ass forehead i’ve had the burn scars for MONTHS and yet i never managed to recall just why did i do that

all time favorite tv shows: i watch very little tv?? i guess the office (US), doctor who, skins. but i’m sure i’m missing something else i really really like

the last movie you saw at the theater: did i mention i have a v bad memory?? i think it was a p bad movie shot in my city (napoli velata), but it could have been the latest star wars. not entirely too sure i tag my main hoes followers in my notes but everyone feel free to do this! and tag me in it! @heatstrokeyellowstrawberryblue @spaceanets @iamtade @there-is-no-romeo @the-mad-march-hare42 @amarandomperson @the-real-havoice @keirs-cool @baking-accident @irulehyrule26