#barstaff

[that-ace-lesbian]

as someone who works in a bar, agreed

[delohill]

Hey Tumblr fam! 🌟

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[s-sputnik-k]

79s barstaff AU: the clones as shit that happens at my mum's pub (part 1)

fives, proudly holding a jar of credits and a massive jar of individually wrapped sweets: I've robbed so many people today *runs off to harrass another customer for their change*

rex: ...how 

cody: ...and why 

echo: he's making people give a credit to guess how many sweets are in the jar

cody: and they're just..  giving it to him? 

dogma: it's for charity, but the closest guess wins half the pot 

rex: so... he's not gaining anything? it is actually going to charity, right?

dogma: I find it's best to just let him think he's causing chaos 

echo: otherwise he'll start actually causing chaos

[ctimenefic]

Just another anon popping in to say that gr63 gets rule 63’d AU is a borderline religious revelation to me 😵‍💫😳 ur a genius

This snippet does not have George in it, blessed anon, but it does, crucially, have tiny baby Lance Stroll

“You should hear what the British guys have to say about her,” Kieran Rivers is saying, as Alex makes his way back to the group from the hotel bar. There’s about a dozen of them, sprawled around four tables they dragged together, blithely ignoring the glares from the barstaff. It’s not like it’s a nice hotel, and they’re all guests, and some of them just won the Eurocup Formula 2.0 championship, actually, so who gives a shit if they’re loud and young. At least they’re drinking. 

And talking about George, of course. She’s yet to join them - thanks to his sisters, Alex has better insights than most into the dark rituals of girls getting ready, and he reckons it’ll be another half hour - but it’s pretty obvious why she’d be the subject of conversation. 

Winning as a wildcard. It’s mad. It’s brilliant. He’s so fucking proud. 

“The F4?” he asks, sliding back into his seat. “She’s smashing it.”

Three of the boys at the far end of the table snort. Boys- men, technically. Most of them. There’s a couple of prodigies, like George, racing as well as any of them at sixteen. Alex doesn’t feel grown up. Ordering a beer without worrying someone will spot the dodgy photoshop on his licence still feels novel. 

Jez Valdo grins too widely for a guy who binned it into the wall at what is technically his home race. “Smashing is one way of putting it.”

“More like they’re the ones smashing it,” Rivers chimes in, and Alex frowns. It’ll be close, sure, but if George drives as well as she did today, the championship’s in the bag. Rivers starts counting off names on his fingers: Braithwaite, Carter, Jones, and that doesn’t make any sense, because they’re nowhere near the top of the standings-

“It’s like they’ve worked out a system to stop her getting clingy, it’s genius. Wish I’d known after Moscow, I’d’ve lined one of you guys up to take her off my hands when she got all mopey.” 

The group around Rivers laughs again. Something cold steals up Alex’s spine. Moscow hadn’t been great for George. He’d got third on the Sunday but still had to coax her out, and she’d vanished off back to the hotel after only an hour or so.

He places the image of George on the plane home, swamped in her giant Lewis Hamilton hoodie, next to Rivers’ face now, his lips pulled back in a smirk that shows his incisors. “No, really, she’s kinda tame but, you know, easy for it.”

“Eh,” Jez Valdo is saying, and it’s like slow motion, the way Alex can see it coming, a shit comment as obvious as debris on the track, “she’s not hot enough to take your sloppy seconds.”

Alex’s end of the table is silent. When he looks up, Lance Stroll is staring him dead in the eye. Alex isn’t even sure why Lance is here - he’s not raced in Eurocup, he’s doing F4 in Italy this year. But his dad owns half the boys at the table, so Stroll Jr must go where he wants. 

It doesn’t matter - the point is, Alex meets his eyes, huddled under stormcloud brows, and has a single moment of pure, instinctive connection. He and Lance Stroll are as one for this bright, shining moment of their shared existence. It’ll never happen again; it’s a miracle it happens once. But as Alex’s grip on his pint turns white-knuckled, and he slides his glass to soak Valdo’s fucking stupid face, Lance knocks his wrist casually against River’s stein and sends it over the pair of them. 

“Oh,” Lance says, flatly. “My bad.”

[everleighriveraogden]

"Do I not look like the type who can play beer pong to you or something? Is this a challenge you really want to take on?" Everleigh asked, her lips tugging into a smirk at the situation. "I mean, don't let me stop you but I prefer an honest and open starting field." Though how they had got to this point she didn't know. Perhaps the drinks or maybe the encouragement of the barstaff.

[assortedvillainvault]

Captain Hook,Davie Jones and captain Barbarosa are competing each other who is better captain,has better ship and can loot more treasure.

It’s a tense air that carpets the dark, back corner table the three of them are sat at, bottles in hand.

“Well, obviously, it’s yours truly.” Hook artfully sips from the bottle cradled in his namesake. “Formerly first mate to Blackbeard, immortal scourge of Neverland, a name known worldwide and, clearly-” he sneers a bit, “The one with the most class present. Of course its me.”

Barbossa rolls his eyes as he takes a rough swing of his own bottle, apple in hand. “Hardly.” he drawls. “Yer a coward who couldn’ kill a little ginger whelp and got yerself eaten for the trouble.”

“How dare-!”

“Besides-” Barbossa continues as though Hook weren’t even speaking, enjoying the way the red coated captain’s face was turning purple. “In case yer memory be failin’ ye, I ended my tenure at sea as Cap’n of a pirate armada, more swag in me hold than can be found in most palaces, and only the wrath of Poseidon ‘imself kept me from returning to stalk the waves again. Clearly.” He clacks the bottle against the table in finality. “It be me.”

The third occupant of the table leisurely lights his pipe even as Hook’s temper breaks and lunges across the table, the razor sharp hook just barely missing Barbossa’s throat as the older pirate swears and topples arse over ankles back from his seat. Bottles are thrown, swords are drawn, and Barbossas laugh is cut short as Hook slashes his feathered hat in half – fighting back properly with a snarl.

Jones idly puffs smoke and settles in as the bartenders weigh in against the squabbling captains, blue eyes glinting in the dark. His first mate, Maccus, leans over from another table.

“Uh-” the shark begins. “What’s the question again?”

Jones boredly taps out the ashes and lights another smoke. “Who be the best pirate.”

Maccus blinks. “But we ain’t even pirates. Most a th’ crew were honest sailors.”

“Aye.” Jones shrugs. “Ah dinnae know what they think we could do with looted holds - bar souls - anyway. The Dutchman regrows any damage.”

“And normal folk run screamin’ at port or sea.” Maccus nodded, teeth clicking idly. “...bets on these two?”

Jones surveys the broken furniture and theatrical shenanigans across the room, where Hook and Barbossa posture and swing, evenly matched as the barstaff duck for cover under tables and fallen wall hangings.

“...ten years say’s Barbossa, but only if it dinnae come to pistols. Hook’s a mean shot.”

Maccus grins full of sharp teeth. “Twenty years. Hook’s bloody quick, even if Barbossa’s all bones.”

Thanks for the ask!!

[dreamerlucifer]

*Gross giggling is heard over the phone* YEAH, I’m lookin for a Jack? Is a Jack there?? A Mr. Jack Mehoff???

twitching a bit as he listened to the, if anything else but, odd laughter, that preceeded the call, "Uhmm, Yesssss??, may I help youu??

immediately abliging, the voice ask for a "Jack, and whether or not he may be present.." Now, not one to pry into others' calls, Lucifer merely stated, "Ill check and see if your uhh... Jack, is arou d for you.." Once down, he began calling out for the hotel patron of such name... for 5min to 10min.... until 40 whole minutes had passed!!! and not a single patron Luci was able to stop, had heard neither heads nor tails from the guy... So, feeling a little like he had failed Charlie on this one, he walked over to the phone with a heavy heart....

He reached forward, grabbing it off the sticky bartop... "Ewww", he whispered to himseld, thinking up a good cleaning method for later as he used the bar rag to clean the dingy cellphone-

His heavy hand once again lifted the receiver to earshot, where he was told to check again, just using his surname, well that could have helped from the beginning!! he exclaimed to himself, now annoyed..., "Yess alright, i suppose, IS THERE A JACK MEEO--"

"Ohhh ho, yess, small king himself asked for an openner and im gonna--"

"Sit the fuck down, Angel, what do you want him to go all 'shortking' on yourse--"

"Damnit, Husk!!! He could have been my perfect sugar daddyy...."

Eyes quite wide at this point, Lucifer picked the old phone up towards him once more, however this time... He was listening with precise intent....

The incoherent giggling could ne heard yet again... but only to Lucifer,'s Highly trained ear... He... Was...Furious...!!!!!! but he kept it cool, instead taking the approach of his staff's aid in Magical teleportation... a little hit of a pentagram annnnd Waaalaaaah!!!

To the amazement of the clapping barstaff and patrons alike!!! A giant Fallen Angel fell from the end of the small receiver... And Lucifer smiled a wild grin as all onlookers got to see King O Hell 01 vs Fallen Dickmaster 00...

"So @fatass-adam??" he questioned the now currently face planted Fallen angel..., "Was it all worth it???"

[seshrat]

currently sharing a pub with a german shepard that moves and acts like the most terrified pomeranian you've ever met. barstaff say she's a regular and is treated like a princess. she's just like that by default. i've never loved a dog more in my life

[jungleindierock]

Rebjukebox 2024 - No 1

Here's my first playlist for 2024, it's not gonna be a monthly thing, just once i have 40 tracks i like, then i will share it. So could be one or two or even three in one month and other months maybe none, this is why it's numbered. I am already close to No 2 being finished, cover done, just need to cut down to 40 tracks from the 80+ tracks in the provisional draft playlist. So could share this next week!! These playlists are great way to find new bands and artists and saves us having to post each on sepearatly.

I used to do these just through Soundcloud, but thought i might as well add it to my Spotify also. So i will add two links to the playlist and can use which ever one you prefer.

If your a solo singer or a member of a band, then follow me on my Soundcloud page here, if i like your stuff, i will follow you back, if i don't follow back then sorry but your not my thing. Whatever style of music is fine, i like many stlyes and will take a listen. You should always trust your own ears with music.

You can only follow 2,000 people on Soundcloud, so am limited. But if am following you there, i can see when you share new music, which means you could be added to one of these playlists or the main JIR playlist (one per month). What style of music is fine, i like many and will take a listen.

Enjoy and share, stay free, see you soon with No 2!!

Reb

Ok the links for the playlist:- Soundcloud I Spotify

Tracklist

1 - Paramore - Burning Down the House (Talking Heads Cover) 2 - The Delta Shake - I’ll Be Your Man (Alternative Version) 3 - Anja Huwe - Rabenschwarz 4 - Fat Dog - All The Same 5 - Loupe - Tested Waters 6 - Wynona - Feeling For Edges 7 - Nothing Rhymes With Orange - Friday Is Over 8 - Shannon and the Clams - The Moon Is In The Wrong Place 9 - KAWALA - American Adrenaline 10 - overpass - Stay Up 11 - Camens - Cynical 12 - Cinders - Going Nowhere 13 - Linn Koch-Emmery - Ebay Armour 14 - Grace Petrie - Start Again 15 - Neon Dreams (Ft. Matthew Mole) - The Art of Letting Go 16 - This Rebel - Same Every Time 17 - The Holy - Any Given Day 18 - Soundwire - Shake The Fever (Radio Edit) 19 - The Snuts - Millionaires 20 - Neck Deep - Moody Weirdo 21 - Softcult - Heaven 22 - Lurve - Pesnya O Lyubvi 23 - BARSTAFF - Tracy Island (Radio Edit) 24 - Sasha Assad - Bad Nature 25 - Red Rum Club - Hole In My Home 26 - No Windows - Song 01 27 - Mourn - Could Be Friends 28 - Sunglaciers - Cursed 29 - POND - Neon River 30 - Slow Time Mondays - Don’t Threaten Me With A Good Time 31 - Jeen - So What 32 - stillcorners - The Dream 33 - The Marra - Masterpiece 34 - The Hubbards - Hiding & Reading 35 - The Cheap Thrills - Last Orders 36 - Aqualine - No Answer 37 - Torrey - Bounce 38 - Low Blows - Normal 39 - ParisBlue - Remedy 40 - Bombay Bicycle Club (ft. Lucy Rose) - Willow

[smallsinger5901]

my favourite moments working sundays in an insane pub, in so particular order:

getting so bored in the summer the other waitress (a girl i knew since primary), the entire barstaff and me made a tierlist of letters

a man forgot his coat so me and other waitress left the entire building without telling anyone, ran halfway down the street and handed it back

the place with all the extra freezers was a grimy, rotting shed lovingly named ‘the murder shack’

we also made a bingo card of stuff the owner and chef would say. We won.

barstaff didnt realise we were underage so made us some bloody marys to try. Other waitress takes a sip and says ‘oh no i think its virgin!’. Walks off, takes another sip and goes ‘NVM DEFINITELY NOT VIRGIN’

The first chef quit, and when we got a second one he had the same name. When he quit two months later, the third chef had a different name but everyone called him the other name anyway

when the second chef quit he made a huge scene in the work gc leading to everyone cussing each other out for hours on end

there were candelabras we had to replace with tall candles, but the only way to replace them was to have one person hold the new candle, another hold in place the stand with the mostly burned out older one, and a third person with a lighter to fuse them together

the ceiling leaked so hard we had to avoid seating people in the back areas if it rained

the owner randomly announced we were closing with four days notice to all the staff, turns out he hadn't being paying his taxes and hmrc seized the entire building as recompense.

that time we had a canadian. Crazy.

[multiwreckedmess]

My comfort daydream from when I was high as balls on my flight. Loosely based on a post on reddit i read. Very loosely.

A short (okay maybe not short it's like 2k words) Ateez imagine. SFW/pure comfort but my blog is generally 18+

THIS IS FICTION. FIIIIICTION. I don't know if ateez even FLY first class let's be real! I don't even know how first class works!

CW: Flight anxiety. Alcohol use. OTC-drug use? otherwise it's just comfort.

When you smiled and ordered a long island iced tea at 11am the airport barstaff knew exactly who you were. It was an easy read, from your tense lips to your freshly bleeding cuticles.

An anxious fly-er.

At one point in time flying was easy for you. A carefree fun experience. You don't quite remember when that changed. Just like you don't remember when you went from being the extroverted hyperactive child to the fretful quiet one.

Jello theory, videos of pilots explaining how planes work, meditation, almost anything anyone had brought up to you, you'd tried. Nothing compared to the combination of light medication and a heavy drink to force you into a sleepy state of acceptance.

You had to fly though. You had to if you wanted to see them. Your boys. You'd always dreamed of getting to go to more than one stop on a tour and now with adult money and an inner child that needed healing you were finally making it happen.

Sitting at the gate the heavy blanket of alcohol and benadryl settled in your veins, slowly dragging you down. Anxiety only spiking when they announced a change of planes and your name was called. "I'm so sorry, we've had to bump you from the flight." "Oh. Well that's fine." Your flat response nearly knocking the attendant over in surprise. "You're very lucky, there is one spot left on the next flight out, in a half hour. We've upgraded you free of charge for the hassle." The attendant taps the keyboard as fast as they speak, as though you were a ticking time bomb they needed far away from them. "Cool," under normal circumstances you'd be both elated and terrified. At this point you just wondered if you'd still be awake for boarding.

The vague stress of falling too deeply asleep and missing your flight keeps you teetering between consciousnesses, only passingly aware of a fresh wave of passengers entering the gate. Sliding through the "For You" recommendations absentmindedly, simply enjoying the repetitive motion of the swipe and spike of serotonin it brought your addled brain, you lose track of time just enough to register that the attendant has moved on from your privileged boarding group to the further back economy classes.

Annoyed with yourself, you shrug your bag onto your shoulder and shuffle into the mob of strangers gradually working itself into a line. The slow trudge down the jetbridge feels even worse, as inebriated as you are. Your legs beg for the relief of a chair, no matter how restrictive the position may be. Body listing to the side, partially weighed down by your bag and partially by the tilt of your head, bumble back and forth almost comically until you reach the gap between the extended walkway and the plane, waiting long enough so there is no chance of being caught between the two sides.

The conga line haulted momentarily the nearby flight attendant meets your vacant gaze and her eyes crinkle to smile at you over her mask. "Welcome aboard! How are you this afternoon?" She chirps. "It's my first time in first class!" You reply and immediately feel stupid. You curse yourself silently as she tilts her head, brows furrowing. "Oh excited?" "Er, I guess? Yes!" You pray that the stupor allows you to black out the whole episode. You can't blame her for trying to make conversation but at this point you're nearly hopeless. Escaping at the corner turn you just want to sit down when you are met by a sight you never thought you'd see in your life.

Ateez. You spot Yunho first. He's easy to spot, heads taller than everyone else you've seen today. Staring straight at you from his seat next to Jongho from under his bucket hat you lock eyes with him. You barely register San or the manager also staring. The rest take no mind. Hongjoong,Yeosang, and Mingi are silent with their eyes closed and head against the cushioned headrests. Wooyoung happily chatting away with Seonghwa. Jongho scrolling on his phone.

Your first reaction is to turn around and walk out of the plane. The slow conga line of people building up behind you prevents that. Your second is to put your brain into manual mode. What speed is a natural walking speed? How am I going to do this and fly all at once? Is there enough benedryl in my bag to sedate me long enough? Your knees feel like jello and feet like lead as you trudge perhaps the longest 10 feet of your life to your window seat, next to the manager.

"Need help with that?" A burly impatient man behind you asks as he watches you eye the distance from your luggage to the overhead bin. Silently you nod your head before he lifts it and shoves the rollarbag in with ease. With a brief exchange of nods you indicate to the manager your seat is next to his.

He eyes you up and down. For a moment you think "this is it, I've made them uncomfortable, I'm going to be kicked off the plane again." All the doomsday scenarios scroll past your mind. Barred from concerts, fansigns, within a 30 block radius. Instead he shuffles out to make room for you to slouch and toss your backpack into your seat ahead of you. You think you've totally escaped as you watch the bag land in the seat to suddenly and violently realize that you'd used Wooyoung's birthday merch. A simple black bag yes, but embroidered with a telltale 1126 on the side. Just enough for the eagle eyes of the manager to catch.

And you know he caught it as you slip into your chair. His stiffened body language tells you as much. Slinking down into the cushions you just want to disappear. Snapping your belt tightly across your lap and turning the volume of your headphones up. It was a nightmare you never dreamed could exist. Regrettably sobered up, hyper aware of each movement you make, you consider if maybe you'd overdosed at the airport bar and experienced the path from purgatory to hell. As you cower in your seat you assume any conversation that happens between the boys and their manager is about you, and you wouldn't be entirely wrong as each ones eyes flit to you.

But you aren't ejected from the plane, or asked to move. Instead the boarding door closes and the plane pulls away from the terminal. The clear and obvious terror in your eyes giving you an unsettled pass from the team. That's when you're faced with the reality of reality. You're going to have to rough it through take off with little to no sedation and no distractions. The engines spin up along with you pulse. So you return to the old techniques you'd tried.

Speeding down the run way with your knuckles white on your armrest you count down from ten. A pilot had once said the first ten second and last ten second of flight were the most dangerous. You had no idea how true or false this was but anything to help ease your mind. The plane lifts as you reach five, bumping up as you hurtle into the clouds. Their manager glances sideways at you, with your body wrenched toward the window, face pressed to the glass. For some reason you had to watch the takeoff and landing, no matter what. As though if your constant vigilance was the only thing keeping the plane from certain disaster.

Of course everything goes fine. It's a routine takeoff.

The plane levels off and service starts, the attendant quietly asking those who are awake what they want to drink first. You ask for a vodka cranberry and down the tiny bottle handed to you with the mixer to chase.

You can't help but feel apprehensive eyes on you. Trying your best not to return the looks despite the clear burn of their gaze. The alcohol takes some edge off but not enough to knock you out, which is what you really need. Slumping to the side you attempt closing your eyes nonchalantly and returning to your normal flight routine but the air has other plans.

A small ping jolts you up.

"This is your captain speaking-"

You dread this every flight.

"-some slight turbulence has been reported up ahead I've turned the fasten seatbelt sign on-"

You breathe deeply and try to envision the plane in jello. Or on a rollercoaster track. or a bumpy road. Literally anywhere but ten thousand fucking feet in the air.

The first bump hits and you whimper. Audibly. The manager can't help the look he gives you, you know this. The second bump has your elbows locked into your arm rests, body straight upright. Your knee bounces. You cannot freak out in front of your favorite kpop group. Not about them and certainly not about dying in an imaginary plane crash.

The third bump hits and you whimper again. Truly these bumps are small, not enough for the captain to call for the attendants to use the jumpseats, you bargin with yourself. If there were truly rough skies he'd tell them to sit down in those. You know this. Turbulence is mostly inconvenient rather than dangerous. Uncomfortable, not deadly.

"Hyung-" the unmistakable soft voice of San calls to the manager. You don't understand their short discussion but whatever it was, the manager unbuckles himself and shifts into the aisle, leaving the seat next to you momentarily empty only to be occupied by the built frame of Choi San. "Atiny?" He calls to you in a sing song voice, eyes searching your face for recognition.

You meep back at him with a swift nod. It's all your vocal chords can handle.

"You know, you don't need to be afraid," his gaze steady on you, "I fly a lot and it's just -" Another bump hits and your eyes close, brows furrowing, as your chest shudders inwards. Don't cry, you remind yourself, it's just bumps, it's just a man, it's just flying. A warm hand encases your clammy one fixed to the seat. Slowly peeling your fingers away and into his, San holds your palm in his, his thumb running over the back of your hand in soothing circles. "My atiny, I'm right here okay? I'm with you so you don't need to be scared." "Is this-okay?" You glance around his shoulders, their width making it obvious that you're looking for their manager who is watching the two of you like a hawk in San's former seat. San slides your hands down into the seats. "I might be in trouble but, it's okay. You're my atiny. I can't- you- I will comfort you."

There's a sparkle in his eye, unmistakable and delusion conjuring. The charm that makes so many fall in love with him on stage, full blast in your face. It melts you momentarily before the plane jostles slightly to the side, swooping with your stomach and tightening your hand in his. San's shoulders shake with a small giggle. "Cute. Please, breathe, and relax. I'm here. It's okay. I'm right here my atiny. Don't worry."

His voice soothing your slowly paired with the firm pressure of his thumb, sleep comes to drag your eyelids down. Even as your hand relaxes he holds you in his in case of turbulence. Gently supporting you as you drift together in the air.

[s-sputnik-k]

79s barstaff AU: the clones as shit that happens at my mum's pub (part 2)

tup: uh, guys, what's the deep clean all about? it's only wednesday

rex: the owner's giving us a visit tonight, we need this place looking sharp

tup: oh... I know cody's standards are high but I didn't think they were that high

rex: cody's not coming

tup: but... the owner... I thought you said-

fives: cody's not the owner, tup, he's just the manager

tup: ...what?

rex: yeah we're just tenants and staff, tup, legally it's in the owner's name. it's not just us though, he owns all the bars around-

tup: we don't own 79s???

rex: well. I mean, maybe someday we can-

tup: this owner had better be amazing or I- or I'll-

fives, hiding his laughter: or you'll what, tup?

tup, sniffling: or I'll buy it off him

[banrionceallach]

Honestly, not an etymologist and I have no proof, but my first thought when it comes to the etymology of banjax is that it comes from exactly what it sounds like: "bean" and "jacks". Like some poor barstaff checking on the women's restroom and coming back and asking a coworker "have you see the absolute state of the bean jacks?"

Heh. Earliest use recorded is between 1880 and 1930, but the exact origin is unknown so honestly there's a non-zero chance this could be accurate.

[xtinyslip]

“well. well.” a smile appearing on her perfectly red painted lips. “if it isn’t my new favourite blonde.” very true. she had liked her when she saw her last. for once, it had been a fun time and v needed more of that in her life. life couldn’t be all about business or she risked the possibility of becoming her father. the thought alone was enough to make her skin crawl. “what can i get for you? your usual i take it?” already gesturing to the barstaff to tend to their order. it wasn’t like seh wanted to keep her new friend waiting. “is everything alright?” if anyone had dared upset her or dared touch a perfect blonde hair on her head? well, there would be hell to pay.  @daydrcamings

[parkerbombshell]

The British are Coming #674

The British are Coming Tuesdays 10:00pm -11:30 pm EST bombshellradio.com Repeats Wednesdays 8:00am - 10:00am EST Matt plays 20 of the best up-and-coming indie, alternative, and rock artists in the UK, some of which you know, but many more that will be new music discoveries. Matt’s deep knowledge of UK music scene and his ear for a banger make The British are Coming a must-listen on Bombshell Radio. #TheBritishAreComing, #Alternative, #Indie, #Rock, #NewMusic, #BombshellRadio Matt Dalzell @britdjmatt The Virginmarys - Northwest Coast Spoon Speaker Man - The Age of No Opinion She Drew The Gun - Nothing Lasts Sports Team - I'm In Love (Subaru) Yassassin - Way out Way In Club Paradise - Years Deco - Next To You Sam Scherdel - Shy Red Peril - Space Dogs Dutch Mustard - Loser Half Happy - Slow Down Sophie Kilburn - Still in the City Fever Dreams - So Naive Fightmilk - Summer Bodies Barstaff - Cold Sweat Wings of Desire - Forgive and Forget (Reprise) Pacificaze - Magic His Father's Voice - The Blues Beach For Tiger - Closing That Door Nathaniel Bawden - The Right Man Pa Sheehy - My Old Friend John Everything After Midnight - So To Speak Read the full article

[alice-of-hightable]

OOC POST

The general purpose of Gigi, as a character, is to be a safety and healing for other characters. Yes she serves as a personal comfort, too, but still. I try to limit her from being too op because, well, I would say having the equivalent of a small army and being the manager of The Hallowed Lodge is already a good bit of power even without taking her animals and witchery into account.

Obviously, some characters will not react to this sort of thing well, and that’s fine. But my “low/no cost” power fantasy is helping people, and that is what she is made for. She is, at her core, sweet and loving and compassionate in a world of blood and death. Yes, even to Vincent, who is canonically sadistic and for some reason just hasn’t really wanted to harm her/doesn’t like her being harmed despite being given plenty of opportunities.

Her familial relationships are: Winston, Charon, John, and Iosef.

Romantic relationship: Asriel.

Non-familial and Non-romantic/pos: Vincent, Chidi, Addy and most of the NY Continental barstaff, and Sofia.

All other relationships are considered neutral or relatively cordial…except Ms Perkins, but Georgia is not actively malicious, more pitying, really. The only characters she canonically HATES are The Director, Viggo, The Elder, and Berrada.