poke leather

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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Peggy’s a very good friend. Angie, well, Angie’s the sort of friend who will talk you into coming to some downtown performance art but never actually show. Luckily for Peggy, that works out just fine.


Peggy tapped her toe and checked her watch for at least the twelfth time that hour. Angie was officially late. She checked her phone. Scratch that, at this point Peggy had officially been stood up.

Poor form, she texted, before slipping it back into her purse and heading for a refill at the bar. The only reason she was here was to support Angie, and if she didn’t actually have to play that role tonight, she was going to get a bit tipsy on cheap wine before leaving at the interval to go home and snuggle up with some new cases to review for Judge Swain. Commercial litigation was not what Peggy wanted to focus on for the rest of her career, but a federal clerkship in her adopted hometown was not something she could have passed up.

Behind her, another poet stood up near a wall of photos and began speaking in that slow patter. Peggy gulped her wine a little faster and eyed the exit door, manned by an overeager usher. Peggy didn’t think she could sneak past her to get out any earlier than the halfway point. Damn Angie for stranding her here.

“Pssst, over here.” Peggy heard a low voice to her left. She looked over, but all she could see was the toe of a leather oxford poking out from behind a pillar. Some few feet above the oxford, a tray of appetizers slid into view. “You grab me a glass of that wine and I’ll share the cheese plate I liberated,” the voice said. His voice was a pleasant baritone.

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anonymous asked:

Kinda following up on the previous asks about the skates, how much do they usually cost? I can't imagine them being more than a couple hundred USD but maybe I'm wrong. (The top of the line ones I mean)

The top of the line figure skates are generally $650-$800ish depending on brand. That’s without blades (those are priced and purchased separately). And also without having any adjustments to the boots done such as heat-forming, custom insoles, poking out the leather by the toes etc. 

(Nathan Chen goes through boots approximately every SIX. WEEKS. I’m pretty sure Jackson, a skate company, is a sponsor, but think if you had to pay that yourself XD)

Better With You By My Side

prompt: Dan and Phil are both sons of rich families and are sent to ballroom dancing lessons. Because there is a shortage of girls, Dan and Phil end up as partners. Phil really doesn’t want to be there and Dan doesn’t either, but is so frustrated by the fact Phil doesn’t want to dance with him he is determined to get him to.

a/n: wow wtf i didnt realise how long this is sorry ogm i think i got a little carried away btu i hope it makes up for not updating last week tally ho

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

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Chapter Thirteen

Dan lets what Phil had said stick in his mind for a little longer than he’d wanted it to.

And by that ridiculous understatement, he means it had completely and utterly consumed every conscious thought sitting in his mind, making it immensely difficult to try and think of anything else that wasn’t Phil, Ryan, or those fucking blue eyes.

Not your best, Daniel.” Mrs. Rotherham raises her eyebrows, dropping Dan’s History test on the table with a condescending clatter. He sighs, picking up and letting himself be met with the bold letter C glaring back at him in fierce red ink, causing his stomach to drop with the realisation of how much it’d been starting to affect his schoolwork. Granted, he’s not, and never had been the most focused of students, and he’d admit to spending more lesson time with his eyes glued to the window at whatever was happening on the other side of the glass rather than whatever dull information was being plonked onto the board in front of him, but it’d never affected him this much.

He gulps, nibbling his lip and shoving the paper into his bag with a rushed crumple before anyone else caught sight of his embarrassing grade; especially considering if he reached anything below that, he could kiss Welfeather, and a secure chance of an Oxford University application goodbye.

Well, at least he could return back to Fernhaven if that did end up happening.

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PerSUEDE me *groan*

A/n How did Finn come to own his leather jacket?

The cobwebbed decorated attic was a treasure trove aching to be explored  by grubby chubby hands.  When opportunity knocked Finn would race after his Dad up the wobbly ladder and hoist himself into the rickety attic balancing on the exposed beams of wood.

‘Finn, I told you. No. Down the ladder now it’s not safe up here’ Owen weakly chastised him. Finn looked up earnestly at him ‘But but Daddy it’s fun up her..Oh look remember this’ he said brandishing a dusty tattered Hallowe’en mask. ‘Down to your Nan while I do this’ Owen said bum rushing Finn to the trapdoor. Finn stopped abruptly ‘Dad please can I have a look around I’ll be careful I promise’ he whined fluttering his long lashes. Owen shook his head even at the tender age of six Finn knew with a simple bat of his lashes he would get anything he wanted. He’ll have girls falling at his heels when he’s older. Owen chuckled to himself. ‘Fine but don’t come whining to me if you fall on a rusty nail’. Rummaging through all the boxes Finn pulled out the rattles and babygrows, Owen smiled fondly shaking his head as he thought his little man was once so small he could rest comfortably in the crook of his elbow. Turning back to his mammoth task of detangling fairy lights from a roll of unused insulation.

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emma’s red jacket is missing. it isn’t in the loft and it isn’t at the station and it isn’t somewhere else careless, flung over a chair in the author’s mansion or on the floor in the back of the patrol car. emma is missing and her armor against the world is missing (she’d worn it so many times, the night of you’re henry’s birth mother? and the day of so what do we do? and the day of kale salad and root beer and the day when they’d jumped into a car together to fight fate). 

regina carries the weight of its absence like she carries the weight of the dagger with emma swan’s name on it against her thigh and she carries the weight of its absence like she carries a late night in her crypt when emma had just wanted them to be friends. regina carries the weight of its absence like she does henry as he sobs and snow as she sobs and regina’s supposed to be happy, right? emma died for regina to be happy. (emma lost her childhood so regina could be happy, too, and she rages and shouts and rails at the world when she’s all alone sometimes. none of this is fair. not for emma. emma deserved–)

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Amnesia

“I’m going to be the death of you,” she murmured.* She bent her attention to the wooden box and bowed her head over it as she set about opening it. 
Right as she was about to denounce it as too much effort to safely carry on attempting, the lid popped open under her fingers. She lifted it cautiously, but encountered no further resistance, and revealed to the dim light an odd collection of trinkets. A very small dagger in a furred sheath nestled in a tangle of thin leather thongs and little flat stones with characters carved on them. She drew the dagger from its sheath to inspect it, but set it aside without sheathing it again upon noticing something gleaming beneath the knotty leather thongs. Poking through the thicket, Miriam discovered the bottom of the box was covered in coins, some recognizable currencies, some not. She lifted the thongs out of the box to sort through them and discovered they were heavier than she’d anticipated, due to a wide copper cuff dangling from the mess of leather strings. 
She shook it somewhat loose from its bonds, then picked it out of the leather to inspect it more closely. 
As she raised it to her eye level, she felt as though her fingertips were hollow, and filled with an odd sort of buzzing. It seemed to travel up her arm, through her neck, and into her head, spreading out beneath her skin before seeping in through her eye sockets and billowing to fill the space inside her skull. She blinked rapidly and tried to gasp down a full breath as she felt something blanket her mind, and her fingers tightened spasmodically around the copper cuff.

Cathy and Carson both stumbled where they stood as something like a shockwave knocked them all to the ground, with Miriam ending up on her knees holding the knife still up in somewhat warding manner.
Cathy felt as thought there were suddenly many voices rising and screaming through her, traveling up from the base of her skull and leaving only white static in its space. She sat up in a daze, feeling peculiar and… light. Was that the word? Or was it only that everything around her seemed to glimmer in a foggy sort of dream fashion. She was having trouble focusing, though things did draw into narrow and sharpen when her eye fell on the knife in the blonde woman’s hand.
“H-hey, what’s… What are you going to do with that?” she asked, her eyes wide as she scooted back and started to stand.
Her eye was drawn to another source of movement–some tall, skinny guy who seemed to have fallen against a big, ornate mirror. He looked mostly harmless, but she was glad they were all in fairly separate corners of this big… incredibly messy room. Now that… Was that right? It seemed kind of right. Like there was a task here, but… how did she get where? Where was here, for that matter? Her head was mist rolling down her shoulders and she didn’t recognize these hilly bluffs at all.

Imagine your headstrong little girl (Alt. Title: Pwince Woki)

TITLE:  Imagine your headstrong little girl (Alternate Title:  Pwince Woki)

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT:  Chapter III

AUTHOR:  tomstinkerbell

ORIGINAL IMAGINE:  Imagine your headstrong little girl … 

RATING:  T

NOTES/WARNINGS:

Thank you for the wonderful response to this story!

********************

Seconds later, a woman you recognize as Black Widow burst into the room, and she’s followed quickly by the rest of the Avengers, including Loki’s brother.

Lily freezes a bit at all of the strangers who were standing around and staring at her and Loki, cringing her little body against him - not bothering to look to you for protection, but looking for and finding it with him.  You see his arms close around her as he stands, taking her with him and holding her against his chest.

“Princess Lily,” he says, patting her leg comfortingly, “I would like to present to you to my - ” he hesitates just a second there - “my friends.  This is Dr. Banner,” he starts with the one of them that looks the most innocuous  … currently.

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