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mason-janes:

“It’s simple, alright,” He began, arm unfolding from across his chest and hand extending to point towards a line of various microwaves, “The deal breaker’s gonna be which one will statistically cook my Hot Pocket the fastest–” The blonde jested, speaking genially to the person that had approached his side, his left, in particular. The wide appliance aisle of red Christmas sale tags had called in a row of people to squander over the selection, “… It’s gotta be good enough to cook it evenly too, y’know–– no cold corners or anything. That won’t do.”

cataleya hates appliance shopping - she hates most kind of shopping that isn’t online, honestly - but desperate times call for desperate measures. sometimes you just need a fuckin’ microwave - plus cataleya was a sucker for a good deal. her mama had raised her to keep her eyes peeled for that kind of thing.

she’s so engrossed in glaring at price tags that she doesn’t even register the buzzing in her ear as someone speaking to her until the dude’s half-way through his ramble. she looks up, brows furrowing over the frames of her glasses.

“what the fuck are you talking about, pal?”

#c: masonj #c

devynmurphy:

“Have you ever used this app?” Devyn asked the person beside her, flashing her tinder profile to the patron. “I’ve been on it for a week because I’m too busy and I’ve received a total of ten dick picks and enough pick up lines to last me a lifetime. How hard is it to find someone to kiss on New-Years.” Too hard, especially with the busy schedule she had now that she had begun to model. “Any suggestions?”

cataleya looks up from her drink, brows lifting a little. “once. slim pickin’s. lots of mid-life crisis pussy,” cataleya replies drily. her crassness only gets worse when she’s had a few gins - it always gets on her mother’s nerves at holiday dinners.

“try craigslist. sure you could find your kind of freak on there.”

“or, y’know. some drunk dickhead will probably step up to the plate if you don’t make any arrangements. people get awful desperate this time of year so you won’t have to look too hard.”

#c: devynm #c

amyaddiscn:

“Yeah. Let’s hope he gets it. Or maybe not, it might go to his head,” she said and laughed even though she didn’t know the guy personally. She had a clearer picture of him in her head now though, if that counted for anything.

“Oh my God.” She laughed and nodded her head. “Well, that’s pretty amazing. I guess he surprised everyone then, including his parents.” She was amused by this, but kind of happy for the guy too. Harvard Law was an accomplishment no doubt.

She chuckled, shaking her head. “No, definitely not immune to that. I’m the same with cookbooks or any pictures of delicious food honestly. I want to eat them.”

“he’ll stop fittin’ through doors if anything else goes to his head,” cataleya notes wryly, shrugging her shoulders a bit. “yeah, his parents seem happy enough with the whole set up. i guess good grades and a couple of extra curriculars can really get you anywhere. also bein’ a total greaseball probably helps.”

she hums. “good to know you’re human too.”

#c: amya #c

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charlotterenolds:

“Of our patients, of course.” charlotte said as she folded her arms above her chest, and her brother had long since been out of therapy apart from the weekly AA and NA meetings that he went too. “I don’t feel bad, he’s done enough that I should tell everyone. A little guilt has never hurt anyone.”

It was a little dysfunctional, but anyone who knew the brunette would also know that she wasn’t the best therapist that there was either, which was perhaps why she hated her job s much to begin with.

“Someone has quite the opinion, especially to know only a fraction of the story. As far as problems, I can assure you that I do not have one.” Denial, what a beautiful thing.

“shouldn’t your professional practices filter into your private life?” cataleya muses. “might make you a better sister.”

cataleya doesn’t have much experience in being a sibling- her dad has a few other kids she’s only come to know about in the past ten or so years - but she feels respecting your sibling’s privacy is something you figure out early on.

“shame’s a heavy burden to bear, sis. i’m sure he’s got enough of that on his plate as it is without you trying to add to it. have a little respect for his struggles, huh? giving up the booze isn’t easy.”

she kisses her teeth. “sounds like something someone with a problem would say.”

#c: charlotter #c

xoxoholly:

Holly snickered, never having heard anyone call the Kardashians that. “I prefer Kartrashians. Although, I won’t lie, I do like Kim a little bit. And Kourtney too. The others, not so much.”

“Yeah, I can imagine what goes on behind closed doors. And now with everything Trump’s doing, they’re about to pay a whole lot less taxes aren’t they? Like wow, great on the rest of us,” she said with an eyeroll. Before quickly adding, “sorry, I don’t usually get into politics. I just can’t stop reading the news lately. It’s a never ending horror show.”

“well they’re that too,” cataleya agrees in a murmur, nodding her head minutely. she cocks a brow when the woman speaks of actually liking them. “i don’t really have... any strong feelings about them, honestly?”

now that she thinks about it, she really doesn’t - the strongest of her feelings was probably just a bit of distaste. but she held that for most folk living a lavish lifestyle - while her career definitely afforded her some extra cash, she had no where near the wealth of any of those reality darlings.

“hard not to get into politics these days,” cat says, shrugging her shoulders. “it’s everywhere all the time. there’s no escapin’ it.”

#c: hollyd #c

clivemoon:

“Hey!” Olive bellowed in their face, the volume she chose hardly necessary, “Order up or I’m moving on.” Whatever the person was wrapped up in, she really didn’t want to bother wasting her time figuring out. There were drinks to be ordered, and more importantly: tips to be made. “Well? What do you want?” she pressed, peaking down the bar at someone waving frantically for her. ‘Shitty tipper,’ she told herself, holding her index finger up at the person as her form of acknowledgment.

cataleya tabs through a few emails as she waits for a bartender to be ready to serve her. she doesn’t mind waiting - cataleya worked in a few bars in her younger years, so she gets the struggle. what she doesn’t get, however, is the yelling some punk kid does. her head lifts, just as her eyebrows do, arching up as she blinks at the kid behind the bar.

“cool it, sis,” she says blandly. “don’t get on my ass ‘cause these fuckers aren’t patient.”

there was a lot of impatient finger tapping and jostling going on around her - she’d expected the kid to clear some of those assholes first, instead of making a beeline of whoever was paying the least attention.

“a gin rickey. thanks.”

#c: olivem #c

amyaddiscn:

“Poor, poor guy, but at least he could probably win the world championship of ruining other people’s night. I think that’s something — or at least it sounds like something,” she said and laughed, surprised to find out he was a lawyer. “Wow, that’s quite a lawyer. I’ll definitely start seeing my own lawyer with new eyes now, wondering how many times he’s taken a bite out of a glow stick,” she joked.

“Oh no,” she said, shaking her head. “The candles that smell like delicious food? I want to eat them, I swear. Sometimes I wonder what the harm could be.”

“there’s probably a prize for him out there somewhere,” cataleya muses, shrugging her shoulders. “a world record or a certificate or something. he’d be real pleased with that.”

cat hums, the sound something that could almost be considered a laugh, but not quite. she can be a little too stoic for her own good at times. “yeah. went to harvard law and everything - he’s the real deal. i think for the first few years his parents thought they were just havin’ a shared hallucination or something.”

she makes another little noise, this one of agreement. “so you’re not immune. good to know. decorative soaps and scented candles really test my self-control.”

#c: amya #c

lucasxblake:

“Don’t worry, am fine” he replied as he looked at the other, finishing his onion rings in his mouth, “I also know to do a self heimlich”

“you sure?” cat asks, brows lifting a little. “you’re like a guinea pig or something.”

“huh. nice. cool party trick,” she continues, when he mentions a self-heimlich. she supposes it’s a good skill to have - it’s probably a key survival move, considering the way he eats.

#c: lucasb #c

neelsswanepoel:

“ Yeah “ Neels answered slowly; taking a deep breath as he looked at the ceiling for a moment, suggesting otherwise, but trying his very best to calm down and be the well-adjusted young adult that people expected him to be. He was glad that the woman didn’t seem that pushy to him, or at least not expecting him to fuss around her and help her with every move like someone did the other day, which turned out terrific. It was around Christmas time, so he probably should have thought of that and the rush that surrounded it before working somewhere where he’d meet and have to talk to strangers every day. “ ‘m just getting used to here, I guess. But, if you look for anything specific “ He gestured around the shop a bit, before continuing, “ That’s what I’m here for? “

cataleya watches him as he breathes deep - she’s not unfamiliar with emotional young men. she spends plenty of time around them - she sees her boys at both their best and their worst. she’d had more linebackers cry about their bullshit to her than most people on the planet.

“you new?” cat asks, brow cocking a little. in all honesty most of the kids who’ve worked at the shop for the past few years she’d been coming in had kind of blended into a few distinct types. in her eyes they were all floppy-haired, stick-n-poked indie boys or girls with septum rings and undercuts. not that she could judge, of course. she’d dabbled in all those things - she’d been real edgy as a teen.

“i’m happy just browsin’ - take a load off, kid. don’t stress,” she tells him, flapping a hand at him as if to shoo him, ushering him to sit or just... not worry about her.

#c: neelss #c

charlotterenolds:

“Would you mind helping me with something?” Charlotte asked the person with a kind smile. “I need an opinion from a third party. My brother is returning home from rehab and can’t be around any substances. You see, as a therapist, I understand how easily someone can be influenced by anything even though they haven’t ever had a problem with said substance. To be more specific, I’ve been asked to remove all trace of alcohol from my home. Now, as a therapist and a avid wine lover, that’s a problem. So, how harshly would I be judged if I asked him to get an hotel instead?”

“i thought therapists were all about confidentiality?” cataleya replies blandly, brows arching up just a touch. “if you were my sister i’d be a bit fucked off about you tellin’ anyone who’d listen about my problems.”

that was an understatement. cataleya had a temper and a half when it came to her privacy - her father had found that out the hard way on more than one occasion.

“let your brother come home - if you can’t swear off booze for a weekend for a family member in need you might be the one with the problem.”

#c: charlotter #c

sefseneca:

“You’re correct.” He raised a finger, then pointed it towards her. “I did steal this from my dad, but I’m very much capable of buying my own liquor, thank you very much.” Lowering his hand, he grabbed the carton and brought it to his lips, speaking, before he would take another sip— “Deserves to have it taken from him, anyway.”

“so you think i’m old?” cataleya replies when he agrees with her, one brow arching just slightly. “charming.”

“must have a pretty convincing fake, then. good for you,” she notes, brows lifting further when he mentions his old man deserving it. ah. there we go. not that cataleya could judge, of course - her relationship with her father was rocky at the best of times for a whole variety of reasons, some of her doing but most of his. so she could hardly comment on the venom in his tone - she remembers those sayings about glass houses and throwing stones.

#c: josephs #c

xoxoholly:

“The clan?” she asked, momentarily confused about which clan was meant. “Oh god, I watch the Real Housewives of Dallas sometimes, not intentionally, it’s just on of course. But this one woman shut down a whole football stadium because it was her husband’s birthday and football was his favorite. It was so crazy.” She shook her head, like she was condemning the whole affair silently. “The things you can do when you have the money.”

“yeah, the uh... ku klux kardashian...” cataleya replies, pulling a bit of a face at her own words. she’d heard one of her players refer to them as such and it’d stuck. some of her boys were pretty funny - she wouldn’t tell ‘em that, though. she wasn’t about to let these kids get any more cocky.

cataleya lets out a low whistle.

“wild. people have more money than sense,” she notes drily. “that’s probably some of the tamer stuff, though. god knows people with big money spend it on tacky, awful shit.”

not that cataleya was any kind of saint or philanthropist, but she was sure she’d do something better than buy slave-mined diamonds and big, ugly cars if she had big bucks.

#c: hollyd #c

ace-marveiko:

“No problem. You, not a Christmas fan?” He asked with a half smile. “I wasn't till recently. But this year I thought screw it.” He said and smiled at her. “So Merry Christmas.”

“what gave it away?” cataleya dead pans, manicured brows arching just slightly as she eyes the man. “mm. happy holidays,” she replies. it’s kind of a knee jerk response at this point - she never really explicitly says christmas unless she has to, simply to get under the skin of which ever right-winger christmas freak she came across. those were, unsurprisingly, common in the football world. she had a fair number of southern boys on her little new york team - their southern mamas weren’t always people she got on with. or their southern daddies, for that matter.

#c: acem #c

neelsswanepoel:

Some places, Neels just couldn’t avoid in his quest to never be seen by the world again. First and foremost, Scratched Record, also known as his place of work. It wasn’t that bad; he liked it most of the time, the way he could just flick through whole ages of musical eras in the backroom and play and sing whatever song he liked at full volume sing along when he was sure nobody was even on the streets. But that was when nobody was around, to himself. Now, still sitting in the backroom but clearly hearing the bell of the front door made Neels’ heart beat faster in an instant, even as he knew it was the most unreasonable thing. It wasn’t just him not being made for customer service that let the clock tick on for minutes until Neels emerged from the backroom. “ Hey, hi, uhm yeah. “, he greeted, awkwardly, still trying his very best at genuinely smiling at them.

cat bites the inside of her lip, tipping back her hood when she steps into the record shop. the rain outside was a little much for her - going for a quick browse was definitely a good excuse to get out of the weather. plus she liked to fill out her collection every now and again - she was probably a little old fashioned, going to a store to buy music instead of doing it online. but there was a difference between streaming and playing a record - it was nice to put one on at home.

the place is empty but she doesn’t care - avoiding human contact tends to be her m.o. when she’s feeling drained. she’s just settling into leafing through a bargain bin when someone appears from the back room, looking less than enthused about her being there. she gets that - she’s worked minimum wage before. it’s never enough money for the bullshit you have to deal with.

“hi,” cataleya replies, not quite as abrupt as she is usually - she spares some courtesy for retail folk. retail work is a special sort of evil.

“you all right, kid?”

#c: neelss #c

lucasxblake:

“Don’t give me that look, i have not eaten all day between studying and doing rotation. Plus this are the best onion rings ever. Want some?”

cat glances up for about the eighth time to look at the kid a table down from her - he’d been eating in a way that’d made her slightly queasy and also a little nervous. this time her glance is caught, and the kid speaks before she can look away.

“uh... no, i’m good. thanks. i’m just uh... vaguely worried i’m gonna have to interrupt my meal to give you the heimlich.”

#c: lucasb #c

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