Midge has no problem with walking through the New York streets, even at night. She stays out of particularly sketchy areas, and she knows what to look out for in safer areas. She's never been accosted before, and it's not something that she thinks about.
It's dusk when she walks up the stairs of the subway onto the street. The sidewalks are still busy with people walking home from work or couples going out to restaurants. Midge has a gig at a club tonight, and even though she doesn't go on until 9:00, it's good to get there early, have a drink, and read the room a bit.
Her thoughts wander as she walks, and she doesn't even hear the sound of running footsteps behind her. All of a sudden, she's pushed and nearly falls to the ground as the purse is snatched off of her shoulder. Midge nearly stumbles in her heels and puts her hands out in order to maintain her balance.
"Hey!" she calls to the man's quickly retreating back. "HEY! Stop! That guy's got my purse!"
Never one to let grass grow under her feet, Midge takes off after him. She can run in heels, though not very well. Hopefully, she's made enough noise that one of the men at the end of the block can stop the thief for her.
Peter was out patrolling before he was going to stop by and bring Midge a small snack before her show. She probably didn’t need anything to eat at that point but Peter kind of liked taking his meals with her and usually tried to bring her something as well. Occasionally there was enough crime that he was late or missed seeing her but she was especially understanding of those times. Maybe being a photographer who had to be available to take photos whenever the news struck earned him some leeway.
He heard someone cry out about a purse snatcher and wondered if this would be one of those nights where he wouldn’t make it in time.
Swinging from up high he saw the guy running at top speed with a woman chasing after him. Peter instantly knew that it was Midge, she was completely unmistakable. For a moment he was worried this might be too risky for his identity before he decided if she figured it out then she figured it out.
“Hey, I don’t think that goes with your shoes, pal,” Peter called out as he swooped down next to the guy. The snatcher had a second to be surprised before Peter webbed his feet to the ground. With a shout the guy toppled over, tossing the bag up so he could use his hands to catch himself before he ate pavement. Peter neatly caught the bag then webbed one of the guys hands to the ground then headed over toward where he saw Midge running.
“See, now I know this is yours because it matches your shoes,” he said, trying to deepen his voice a bit. Thankfully the mask muffled his voice somewhat.
Seeing the man swoop down out of nowhere startles Midge and she comes to a stop in front of them. She watches as the man in the red jumpsuit easily takes care of the criminal that had snatched her purse.
“Thank you…” she says in amazement as he hands the purse back to her. “You’re… Spider-Man.”
Spider-Man has been in all the papers, a masked crusader who is able to shoot web out of his hands and do incredible feats of acrobatics. Midge never imagined that she’d meet the guy, let alone be helped by him.
Midge’s luck hasn’t been the best of late. Granted, she started dating Peter, and that was very lucky. She hasn’t been as happy as she is with him in a long time. Other things, though, are not going as smoothly.
She was at the bank depositing a paycheck when two armed men in ski masks stormed in. There were about half a dozen customers in the bank and five employees. The customers are all told to get face down on the ground, so of course Midge complies. While one of the men holds a gun to the tellers and asks them to pack all their cash in a bag, the other moves among the customers, seeing what he can take from them.
“Your purse, lady,” he says when he gets to Midge.
“Again?” she can’t help but whine. “I just got mugged two weeks ago!”
The man holds the gun up to her. “Turn over. Now!”
Midge does what he says, moving slowly. The robber gives her body a once over that makes her shiver in revulsion. “Gimme your purse and maybe that will be the only thing I take from you,” he growls.
Disgusted, she tosses her purse a few feet away from her. “Here you go, asshole.” Midge’s heart pounds in fear. She probably just sealed her fate with this guy, but she doesn’t plan to go with him quietly.
Peter had learned a while ago how to tap into the bank silent alarm lines that ran to the police station. He didn't go after all of them, that was just crazy, but when he was at home and he heard one go off near his apartment he donned his costume and was out the window in a flash. The robbers hadn't even gotten all that far into their robbery by the time he got there.
First thing is he took out the guy standing lookout for the police outside and then let himself in through the roof access and crawled along the ceiling. He almost couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Midge laying there on the ground, some thug making disgusting comments about her. Really, they needed to have a talk about not antagonizing bank robbers.
"Really? I feel like asshole is too kind," Peter called out as he dropped from the ceiling, firing webs from each wrist that stuck to the robbers' guns before yanking the weapons out of their hands. "They serve a valuable function in the body. Unlike these two guys."
"You're the asshole and I'm going to murder you!" one of the guys yelled, pulling out a knife and charging at Peter. The guy swung the knife a couple of times and Peter dodged easily. The thing about knives is you had to be careful because it was so easy for the person using it to hurt themselves with it.
"Hey crush, I just have to check... you didn't organize this bank robbery as a way to meet you again?" he asked, turning to look at Midge as the guy continued to swing at him and he dodged effortlessly.
Midge’s heart leaps when she sees Spider Man crawling across the ceiling. How is he doing that?? Even though there are two guys with guns, she feels much safer now that Spider Man is here.
Midge can’t believe that he’s actually flirting with her while one of the robbers comes at him with a knife. She stays still as a statue, wanting to help if the opportunity presents itself, but also not make the situation worse.
“Caught me,” she says, her voice wavering with fear. “You and I really need to stop meeting this way, Spider Man.”
[ OOC: if you prefer brackets, just switch and I’ll follow. ]
Agreeing to go to dinner with Courfeyrac is, in some ways, a joy, and in other ways, a capitulation. He has an ability to wear a person down with his inexorable charm. Midge likes him, genuinely, but she’s not sure if she can trust him, not with information and certainly not with her heart. She’s not involved with whatever leftwing dealings he and his friends get up to, and she doesn’t want to be caught in the crossfire. He wore her down about dinner and she agreed. If nothing else, she’s sure she’ll enjoy their conversation and that the food will be delicious.
Midge is purposely wearing a red dress that makes her look like an absolute knock out. It’s a little bit of a tease and a little bit of a promise. Which one it ultimately ends up being will be up to him and how the night goes.
When he arrives, her parents have to meet him, because such a thing is unavoidable when your parents live with you and they’re nosy about your personal life. Rene and her mother fuss over each other in rapid fire French, during which both of them end up looking at Midge and nodding. Midge wonders if she’s just been sold and for how many francs. Her father is very much not a Francophile, and so Rene switches to perfect accented English to speak to him about some of their mutual acquaintances at Columbia and The Village Voice. Both of her parents seem impressed. Midge had told them earlier to not get too attached. It’s just dinner.
She’s able to hurry Rene out the door as they head off to start their evening. Midge lets him escort her, her hand on his arm.
“What were you and Mama saying about me?” she asks.
Rene Courfeyrac is extremely good at talking to people. Rich and poor, old and young, male and female, conservative and progressive, he knows how to gauge what another person needs, to flatter without lying, to make them feel special just by basking in the glow of his enthusiasm. It’s a deadly weapon for women, and an even more useful one in politics, but he hasn’t often needed to turn his charm on a woman’s parents.
Midge is special, though—not because their flirtation is serious, but because they’re turning into friends. And in Rene’s book, that’s far more important.
Once the door shuts behind them, he lets his polite smile turn briefly into a playful leer as he looks her up and down. “She was telling me what an excellent hostess you are and that your chiffon cake is divine. I’m not sure I believe her on the second one, though.”
They are friends, that’s true. Maybe Midge is just assuming that he wants something more from her due to his reputation, but she wouldn’t want someone to think less of her due to her reputation.
Then again, he’s looking at her like he wants to devour her, so maybe her assumptions aren’t that far off.
“If you think that’s going to get me to bake you a cake, then you’re wrong,” Midge says with a smile as the two of them exit her apartment building. “Where are you taking me tonight?”
No denying that Foggy spruces himself up before arriving slightly early for Midge's set. He's combed his hair and swapped a tie (one of Matt's because Foggy has no shame and he thinks it will help bring out his eyes). He's made certain to find a spot that isn't directly under a light, posted up at the bar with a neat whiskey throughout, and as good of an audience member as a comedian could want. He's an easily jovial man, after all, a trait that runs through the Nelson family as commonly as the blood in their veins.
Watching Midge, he can't help but amuse himself with how strongly he imagines she would command the courtroom floor. Humor is not always welcome, no, but a person who relies on humor knows how to improvise, how to read the room, and they're often as well-read as any academic, especially if they're trying to keep their jokes contemporary.
Just another reason he thinks maybe this setup isn't the worst, and part of why he's come at all. Matt is a decent wingman, yes, but he's also stupidly romantic. He's convinced more than anyone that Foggy needs someone who cherishes him and treats him like gold, but Foggy thinks that's a little bit of an overzealous ask in the real world where flaws are not so easily ignored because of a long history of solidarity.
He expects to be called out at some point, perhaps targeted for some witty repartee, but the end of the set rolls up and he's relieved to not have to go toe-to-toe with someone so objectively hilarious and sharp. The day will come — it always does — but for now he remains somewhat secure and thankful for not having been elegantly eviscerated by a woman who smiles so sweetly. Wholesome, she is not, but that only excites Foggy because he's not as wholesome as he looks, either.
"That was incredible," he tells Midge. Upon her approach, he gestures to the bartender who slides over her drink of choice. Foggy has his third whiskey — this is a few less than he might have usually gotten through — and he's flushed and all smiles between that and the laughter from the night. "You're legitimately the funniest person I've met, hands down. No lie."
Midge has never harbored any desire to be a lawyer, but with her command of a room, there’s no denying that she’d be good at it. It’s a fairly typical gig for her tonight. The crowd is good; no hecklers. It helps that this is one of the more classy establishments that she performs at. That being said, Midge knows how to handle hecklers. The most bothersome thing about them is that if a comedian allows them to, they can hijack a whole set. The best thing to do is shut them down and move on.
From the stage, Midge can see Susie lurking in the smoky background, as always. She looks for Foggy and is pleased to find him at the bar. They’ve only met briefly before, at the law office when she was visiting Matt. Tonight will be their first chance to talk and Midge is looking forward to it.
There’s no denying that Matt is an attractive man, both good-looking and extremely charming. How could Midge not hit on him? She imagines that in Foggy’s friendship with Matt, he frequently gets overlooked by women who zero in on Matt’s good looks, charm and blindness, which probably makes a lot of women want to take care of him. Never mind that Matt seems extremely competent and neither needs nor wants to be coddled. It must be frustrating for Foggy. Midge, being objectively beautiful, doesn’t have that problem, but she can empathize. Looks aren’t everything, and she needs someone who can match her intellectually and appreciate her humor. If she’s not Matt’s type and he’s not interested, she doesn’t blame him for suggesting his friend instead. And honestly, he might be on to something.
Midge typically doesn’t do a lot of crowd work with her sets, and she certainly wouldn’t call out someone who she has yet to share more than pleasantries with. After she leaves the stage, Midge makes quick work of Susie by telling her - of all things - the truth. Her manager can’t complain though. They’re done for the night and they’ve both gotten paid. Foggy hopefully won’t see the side eye Susie gives him as she heads out the door.
There’s a grin on Midge’s face when she approaches Foggy at the bar. She thanks the bartender for the martini waiting for her when she sits down. Foggy’s praise is almost excessive in Midge’s eyes and she actually blushes.
“Oh, come on. Have you had too many of those?” She gestures to his glass of whiskey.
He chuckles lightly and swirls his drink in its glass. It's pleasant, if not a little expensive for his tastes because he usually has a limit on how much he'll spend on himself in cases where he's the drinking alone.
"No, no, I'm serious." He defends his stance by setting aside his drink and pressing his hands together as if that says I swear. "I admit I haven't seen a lot of live shows like this one, but I laughed so hard I thought I was going to pee myself."
Standing from his stool, he smoothes down his tie and jacket and then offers his arm to her, not unlike he would Matt. Predictably, he's fine on his feet, ever bit the same amount of grace as when he'd walked in sober. He's used to this — he's done it a lot — and as unfortunate as it is to be a functional alcoholic, it means he keeps his wits about him for a hell of a lot longer than most.
"That looks quiet enough," Foggy notes to a table along the wall. He hadn't missed Susie — short and menacing under her cap — and is relieved to see he won't have to pass her in order to get them somewhere more private. "Are you hungry? Should I try to find us something better than pretzels or peanuts? If I was smarter about this, I would have come with some sandwiches stuffed in my pockets."
[ His ‘aw shucks’ attitude whenever Midge shows her attraction to him is so sweet. She knows that he’s been through a lot, the extent of which she’s hardly aware. The war was hard for a lot of people, but it was particularly bad for Bucky. The fact that he made his interest in her known at all is a big step forward. Midge won’t push him, but she won’t hold back either.
The metal arm doesn’t really bother her. It fascinates her more than anything. She’s glad to see that he’s not wearing his gloves, even if it means he’ll probably get some questions.
Midge puts her hand in the crook of his elbow as they walk towards the elevator. ]
It’s only a few blocks from here. She’s a friend of mine from college and I don’t see her very often. [ She turns to him. ] But if I’ve got you for the night I don’t plan on staying very long.
The “divorce party” ends up being more of a social gathering for Midge to see some friends she hasn’t seen in a while, and for her show off Alfred. She set a period of time in the evening for people to drop in at the apartment for cocktails and hors d'oeuvres. People have been in and out, but it’s been a good showing so far. Midge ended up inviting Joel, though he said he’d be there later in the evening. If he comes at all. Midge kind of wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.
Alfred’s been charming and everyone keeps asking him where he’s from. He’s a good conversationalist and he’s held his own against Midge’s friends. During a lull, she slides up next to him, wrapping an arm around him. She’s wearing a form-fitting black dress that she looks absolutely stunning in.
Alfred is nervous at first, he always is when he has to mingle with people who are from a higher class than him, a part of him worries that they'll be able to smell the fact that he's from East London and will judge and shun him. Those worries quickly fade when he realizes that no one knows where or what Whitechapel is and the people here think he sounds 'just darling' and he relaxes and actually starts to enjoy himself.
When Midge comes over he leans in to kiss her cheek, grateful for the break in trying to impress her friends.
"No one has thrown a drink on me yet so yes, I am."
Fortunately, most Americans know nothing about London and what parts are the posh bits. Alfred would have been in a much worse position if he were from Staten Island or, God forbid, New Jersey.
Midge smiles at the kiss. “Thankfully, none of my friends are that rude. Everyone loves your accent.”
Being brought to a whole new world has been an exciting experience, to say the least. Jaskier has only been here for a couple of months, but he's already decided that he doesn't want to leave. Especially since his whole (found) family has been brought along. Now that Geralt, Cirilla, and Yennefer are safe from the war that was threatening the Continent, Jaskier can finally relax and dedicate his life to unshamed hedonism.
(The warm water available in every house is a big selling point.)
Unfortunately, being at a new place also means having to rebuild his career from scratch. He's picked a few new instruments, even if he hasn't mastered them yet, but tavern (or bar, whatever they call it) crawling for gigs like a newbie isn't something he missed. At least people in this world are receptive to his music, and the bigotry is low.
Well, most of the time anyway.
Jaskier still doesn't take criticism well, so it's not surprising that after a heckler got a little too loud, chaos took over the bar. And here he is now, sitting in a cell. Again. Story of his life. At least the heckler was sent to a different cell; thank the gods for small favors. He's already made his call, and now he has to wait - he's never been good at waiting. An anti-authorities song is already on the edge of his lips when suddenly the cell opens and another prisoner is brought in. A prisoner that's very easy on the eyes.
Blue eyes sparkle at the sight, and he isn't at all smooth when he checks the woman out. Not only is she a beauty, she has style, something he greatly appreciates.
"I must say," his tone is clearly flirty, a grin reaching his lips as he speaks from the corner of the cell. "I usually don't expect people who dress as well as I do in this particular neck of the woods." His finger makes a whirl to indicate the lovely jail they're in.
Midge wouldn’t think that she looks very attractive right now, considering that she’s highly irritated. A male guard leads her in to the cell, squeezing her arm far too tightly as he does. “Let go of me!” she snaps. “I can walk on my own.” The officer dumps her in the cell and then leaves, closing the door behind him. “Asshole,” Midge murmurs under her breath and rubs at her arm. It will probably bruise, and she wonders if she can sue for that.
Of all the nights for The Wolford to have a raid, it’s a night where Susie wasn’t there. Thankfully, Midge was able to call her as soon as she got through booking and she’s on her way. It’s not that Midge hasn’t been arrested before, but this time they lumped her in with the other performers, despite the fact that she’s fully dressed and they weren’t. She’s been charged with indecent exposure before, so it’s not new, but she’s actually innocent this time. And sober.
She’s been separated from the other girls for some reason, a ray of hope that the cops might actually know she’s not one of the dancers, but she probably shouldn’t get her hopes up. The only other person in the cell is a man who is quite obviously giving her a once over. At least the cell is bars on 3 of the 4 walls, so the officers can see what’s happening inside. If they care.
Midge smooths out her dress and sits down opposite the other man. He looks friendly enough, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. You can’t trust that people have good intentions in a city like this.
“You must be new here,” she says, exhaling deeply and resting her head back against the wall. “It’s not my first rodeo, though it has been a while.”
She dresses well and she's feisty. Jaskier adores her already.
He's a bit disappointed to see her sit on the opposite side, but he doesn't blame her. Jaskier wouldn't sit next to the kind of people you usually find in jail either, because of safety but also because of how they fucking smell. Add to this the fact she's a woman and he's a male stranger... yeah, not blaming her at all. Good for her for taking care of herself.
That won't stop him from trying to charm her, of course. He just needs to prove he's friendly first. Jaskier chuckles when she calls him new, waving a dismissive hand with more flourish than necessary. Not even jail will stop him from being dramatic.
"New to this specific establishment?" Oh, the sarcasm is strong. "Yes. But far from new to ending my nights behind bars." A wink - the first of many to come. "If you're willing to clap along, I have at least three songs for Officer Nincompoop over there." The insult matches his tone, which indicates he doesn't like the man at all. His voice turns friendly and curious when he adds- "Although I wouldn't mind hearing how a pretty thing like you has had so many rodeos, as you call them."
Giving her an hour to get ready and get to the pub is probably a good idea. Midge needs to obsess a little bit over her outfit. It’s a date, but the restaurant is casual and John is going to tell her a story that is best listened to while imbibing alcohol. She ends up putting on a blue day dress, which she accessorizes to the hilt. It’s nice without being too formal. After making sure that her parents can watch the kids for a few hours, she heads out.
As she walks the few blocks to The White Lion, Midge wonders what kind of impression that she’s going to make on him. She knows her dress is old-fashioned compared to what women from his time wear. Even if she thinks she looks good, he might think she’s outdated. Since she started talking to John, she’s learned a little bit about him and his team. The internet could provide all of the answers that she needs (what an incredible invention), but she doesn’t search too deeply. Midge will give him a chance to tell her about his past rather than to draw her own conclusions based on a Google search.
He’s waiting outside the pub when she arrives; he’s handsome. She is the picture of a chic woman, if that woman happened to be from 1960.
“I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you look like your picture,” Midge says with a smile.
John will use the extra time to get ready himself. Not that he does much formal dressing up - a pair of dark blue jeans and a white, button down shirt - but he looks sharp, and that's all he's really going for. Bucky tells him where the pub is and he's on his way.
The first stop, of course, is to pick up some flowers for the lady. He's not terribly old fashioned, but he figures it's a nice touch she might appreciate. He still loses his bearings a bit when venturing out into the big city, but he finds the place without much trouble, if a little early.
He smiles when she approaches, and holds out the bouquet of colorful daisies. "You've got to look that part when you're all over the internet. You look amazing."
“They’re lovely, thank you,” she says, taking the bouquet from him. “Oh! I didn’t forget…”
Even though her purse doesn’t look big enough to hold it, Midge has managed to fit a small bakery box in it. She pulls it out and opens it to show John the cupcake inside. “Saved one for you.” She smiles. “Shall we?”
He opens the door to the pub and they find a table in a quiet corner where they can talk. Midge orders a pint of Guinness (when in Rome) and peruses the menu. “You look nice tonight too, by the way,” she says. What’s considered to be dressing up has gotten much more casual than it was in her time, but she takes no offense.
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for Peter Parker (powerandresponsibility)
It's dusk when she walks up the stairs of the subway onto the street. The sidewalks are still busy with people walking home from work or couples going out to restaurants. Midge has a gig at a club tonight, and even though she doesn't go on until 9:00, it's good to get there early, have a drink, and read the room a bit.
Her thoughts wander as she walks, and she doesn't even hear the sound of running footsteps behind her. All of a sudden, she's pushed and nearly falls to the ground as the purse is snatched off of her shoulder. Midge nearly stumbles in her heels and puts her hands out in order to maintain her balance.
"Hey!" she calls to the man's quickly retreating back. "HEY! Stop! That guy's got my purse!"
Never one to let grass grow under her feet, Midge takes off after him. She can run in heels, though not very well. Hopefully, she's made enough noise that one of the men at the end of the block can stop the thief for her.
Re: for Peter Parker (powerandresponsibility)
He heard someone cry out about a purse snatcher and wondered if this would be one of those nights where he wouldn’t make it in time.
Swinging from up high he saw the guy running at top speed with a woman chasing after him. Peter instantly knew that it was Midge, she was completely unmistakable. For a moment he was worried this might be too risky for his identity before he decided if she figured it out then she figured it out.
“Hey, I don’t think that goes with your shoes, pal,” Peter called out as he swooped down next to the guy. The snatcher had a second to be surprised before Peter webbed his feet to the ground. With a shout the guy toppled over, tossing the bag up so he could use his hands to catch himself before he ate pavement. Peter neatly caught the bag then webbed one of the guys hands to the ground then headed over toward where he saw Midge running.
“See, now I know this is yours because it matches your shoes,” he said, trying to deepen his voice a bit. Thankfully the mask muffled his voice somewhat.
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“Thank you…” she says in amazement as he hands the purse back to her. “You’re… Spider-Man.”
Spider-Man has been in all the papers, a masked crusader who is able to shoot web out of his hands and do incredible feats of acrobatics. Midge never imagined that she’d meet the guy, let alone be helped by him.
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For Peter Parker (powerandresponsibility)
She was at the bank depositing a paycheck when two armed men in ski masks stormed in. There were about half a dozen customers in the bank and five employees. The customers are all told to get face down on the ground, so of course Midge complies. While one of the men holds a gun to the tellers and asks them to pack all their cash in a bag, the other moves among the customers, seeing what he can take from them.
“Your purse, lady,” he says when he gets to Midge.
“Again?” she can’t help but whine. “I just got mugged two weeks ago!”
The man holds the gun up to her. “Turn over. Now!”
Midge does what he says, moving slowly. The robber gives her body a once over that makes her shiver in revulsion. “Gimme your purse and maybe that will be the only thing I take from you,” he growls.
Disgusted, she tosses her purse a few feet away from her. “Here you go, asshole.” Midge’s heart pounds in fear. She probably just sealed her fate with this guy, but she doesn’t plan to go with him quietly.
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First thing is he took out the guy standing lookout for the police outside and then let himself in through the roof access and crawled along the ceiling. He almost couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Midge laying there on the ground, some thug making disgusting comments about her. Really, they needed to have a talk about not antagonizing bank robbers.
"Really? I feel like asshole is too kind," Peter called out as he dropped from the ceiling, firing webs from each wrist that stuck to the robbers' guns before yanking the weapons out of their hands. "They serve a valuable function in the body. Unlike these two guys."
"You're the asshole and I'm going to murder you!" one of the guys yelled, pulling out a knife and charging at Peter. The guy swung the knife a couple of times and Peter dodged easily. The thing about knives is you had to be careful because it was so easy for the person using it to hurt themselves with it.
"Hey crush, I just have to check... you didn't organize this bank robbery as a way to meet you again?" he asked, turning to look at Midge as the guy continued to swing at him and he dodged effortlessly.
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Midge can’t believe that he’s actually flirting with her while one of the robbers comes at him with a knife. She stays still as a statue, wanting to help if the opportunity presents itself, but also not make the situation worse.
“Caught me,” she says, her voice wavering with fear. “You and I really need to stop meeting this way, Spider Man.”
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For Rene Courfeyrac (thepaladin)
Agreeing to go to dinner with Courfeyrac is, in some ways, a joy, and in other ways, a capitulation. He has an ability to wear a person down with his inexorable charm. Midge likes him, genuinely, but she’s not sure if she can trust him, not with information and certainly not with her heart. She’s not involved with whatever leftwing dealings he and his friends get up to, and she doesn’t want to be caught in the crossfire. He wore her down about dinner and she agreed. If nothing else, she’s sure she’ll enjoy their conversation and that the food will be delicious.
Midge is purposely wearing a red dress that makes her look like an absolute knock out. It’s a little bit of a tease and a little bit of a promise. Which one it ultimately ends up being will be up to him and how the night goes.
When he arrives, her parents have to meet him, because such a thing is unavoidable when your parents live with you and they’re nosy about your personal life. Rene and her mother fuss over each other in rapid fire French, during which both of them end up looking at Midge and nodding. Midge wonders if she’s just been sold and for how many francs. Her father is very much not a Francophile, and so Rene switches to perfect accented English to speak to him about some of their mutual acquaintances at Columbia and The Village Voice. Both of her parents seem impressed. Midge had told them earlier to not get too attached. It’s just dinner.
She’s able to hurry Rene out the door as they head off to start their evening. Midge lets him escort her, her hand on his arm.
“What were you and Mama saying about me?” she asks.
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Midge is special, though—not because their flirtation is serious, but because they’re turning into friends. And in Rene’s book, that’s far more important.
Once the door shuts behind them, he lets his polite smile turn briefly into a playful leer as he looks her up and down. “She was telling me what an excellent hostess you are and that your chiffon cake is divine. I’m not sure I believe her on the second one, though.”
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Then again, he’s looking at her like he wants to devour her, so maybe her assumptions aren’t that far off.
“If you think that’s going to get me to bake you a cake, then you’re wrong,” Midge says with a smile as the two of them exit her apartment building. “Where are you taking me tonight?”
Guess who went down a rabbit hole about French restaurants that existed in the late '50s
I love that
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cw: mention of antiblack violence, outdated language
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For Alfred Pennyworth (flippin_peachy)
I guess I shouldn’t tell her how much I love it when you put your head between my legs.
thank you for moving <3
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Or maybe she can just be happy for her daughter that she’s getting off so much.
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No denying that Foggy spruces himself up before arriving slightly early for Midge's set. He's combed his hair and swapped a tie (one of Matt's because Foggy has no shame and he thinks it will help bring out his eyes). He's made certain to find a spot that isn't directly under a light, posted up at the bar with a neat whiskey throughout, and as good of an audience member as a comedian could want. He's an easily jovial man, after all, a trait that runs through the Nelson family as commonly as the blood in their veins.
Watching Midge, he can't help but amuse himself with how strongly he imagines she would command the courtroom floor. Humor is not always welcome, no, but a person who relies on humor knows how to improvise, how to read the room, and they're often as well-read as any academic, especially if they're trying to keep their jokes contemporary.
Just another reason he thinks maybe this setup isn't the worst, and part of why he's come at all. Matt is a decent wingman, yes, but he's also stupidly romantic. He's convinced more than anyone that Foggy needs someone who cherishes him and treats him like gold, but Foggy thinks that's a little bit of an overzealous ask in the real world where flaws are not so easily ignored because of a long history of solidarity.
He expects to be called out at some point, perhaps targeted for some witty repartee, but the end of the set rolls up and he's relieved to not have to go toe-to-toe with someone so objectively hilarious and sharp. The day will come — it always does — but for now he remains somewhat secure and thankful for not having been elegantly eviscerated by a woman who smiles so sweetly. Wholesome, she is not, but that only excites Foggy because he's not as wholesome as he looks, either.
"That was incredible," he tells Midge. Upon her approach, he gestures to the bartender who slides over her drink of choice. Foggy has his third whiskey — this is a few less than he might have usually gotten through — and he's flushed and all smiles between that and the laughter from the night. "You're legitimately the funniest person I've met, hands down. No lie."
Thank you for starting this!
From the stage, Midge can see Susie lurking in the smoky background, as always. She looks for Foggy and is pleased to find him at the bar. They’ve only met briefly before, at the law office when she was visiting Matt. Tonight will be their first chance to talk and Midge is looking forward to it.
There’s no denying that Matt is an attractive man, both good-looking and extremely charming. How could Midge not hit on him? She imagines that in Foggy’s friendship with Matt, he frequently gets overlooked by women who zero in on Matt’s good looks, charm and blindness, which probably makes a lot of women want to take care of him. Never mind that Matt seems extremely competent and neither needs nor wants to be coddled. It must be frustrating for Foggy. Midge, being objectively beautiful, doesn’t have that problem, but she can empathize. Looks aren’t everything, and she needs someone who can match her intellectually and appreciate her humor. If she’s not Matt’s type and he’s not interested, she doesn’t blame him for suggesting his friend instead. And honestly, he might be on to something.
Midge typically doesn’t do a lot of crowd work with her sets, and she certainly wouldn’t call out someone who she has yet to share more than pleasantries with. After she leaves the stage, Midge makes quick work of Susie by telling her - of all things - the truth. Her manager can’t complain though. They’re done for the night and they’ve both gotten paid. Foggy hopefully won’t see the side eye Susie gives him as she heads out the door.
There’s a grin on Midge’s face when she approaches Foggy at the bar. She thanks the bartender for the martini waiting for her when she sits down. Foggy’s praise is almost excessive in Midge’s eyes and she actually blushes.
“Oh, come on. Have you had too many of those?” She gestures to his glass of whiskey.
You're most welcome! <3
"No, no, I'm serious." He defends his stance by setting aside his drink and pressing his hands together as if that says I swear. "I admit I haven't seen a lot of live shows like this one, but I laughed so hard I thought I was going to pee myself."
Standing from his stool, he smoothes down his tie and jacket and then offers his arm to her, not unlike he would Matt. Predictably, he's fine on his feet, ever bit the same amount of grace as when he'd walked in sober. He's used to this — he's done it a lot — and as unfortunate as it is to be a functional alcoholic, it means he keeps his wits about him for a hell of a lot longer than most.
"That looks quiet enough," Foggy notes to a table along the wall. He hadn't missed Susie — short and menacing under her cap — and is relieved to see he won't have to pass her in order to get them somewhere more private. "Are you hungry? Should I try to find us something better than pretzels or peanuts? If I was smarter about this, I would have come with some sandwiches stuffed in my pockets."
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For Bucky Barnes (counterstep)
[ His ‘aw shucks’ attitude whenever Midge shows her attraction to him is so sweet. She knows that he’s been through a lot, the extent of which she’s hardly aware. The war was hard for a lot of people, but it was particularly bad for Bucky. The fact that he made his interest in her known at all is a big step forward. Midge won’t push him, but she won’t hold back either.
The metal arm doesn’t really bother her. It fascinates her more than anything. She’s glad to see that he’s not wearing his gloves, even if it means he’ll probably get some questions.
Midge puts her hand in the crook of his elbow as they walk towards the elevator. ]
It’s only a few blocks from here. She’s a friend of mine from college and I don’t see her very often. [ She turns to him. ] But if I’ve got you for the night I don’t plan on staying very long.
For Alfred Pennyworth (flippin_peachy)
Alfred’s been charming and everyone keeps asking him where he’s from. He’s a good conversationalist and he’s held his own against Midge’s friends. During a lull, she slides up next to him, wrapping an arm around him. She’s wearing a form-fitting black dress that she looks absolutely stunning in.
“Enjoying yourself?” She asks.
Thank you for writing this 💜
When Midge comes over he leans in to kiss her cheek, grateful for the break in trying to impress her friends.
"No one has thrown a drink on me yet so yes, I am."
💜
Midge smiles at the kiss. “Thankfully, none of my friends are that rude. Everyone loves your accent.”
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ooc: figured now would be a fun time to add in Midge's ex
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(The warm water available in every house is a big selling point.)
Unfortunately, being at a new place also means having to rebuild his career from scratch. He's picked a few new instruments, even if he hasn't mastered them yet, but tavern (or bar, whatever they call it) crawling for gigs like a newbie isn't something he missed. At least people in this world are receptive to his music, and the bigotry is low.
Well, most of the time anyway.
Jaskier still doesn't take criticism well, so it's not surprising that after a heckler got a little too loud, chaos took over the bar. And here he is now, sitting in a cell. Again. Story of his life. At least the heckler was sent to a different cell; thank the gods for small favors. He's already made his call, and now he has to wait - he's never been good at waiting. An anti-authorities song is already on the edge of his lips when suddenly the cell opens and another prisoner is brought in. A prisoner that's very easy on the eyes.
Blue eyes sparkle at the sight, and he isn't at all smooth when he checks the woman out. Not only is she a beauty, she has style, something he greatly appreciates.
"I must say," his tone is clearly flirty, a grin reaching his lips as he speaks from the corner of the cell. "I usually don't expect people who dress as well as I do in this particular neck of the woods." His finger makes a whirl to indicate the lovely jail they're in.
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Of all the nights for The Wolford to have a raid, it’s a night where Susie wasn’t there. Thankfully, Midge was able to call her as soon as she got through booking and she’s on her way. It’s not that Midge hasn’t been arrested before, but this time they lumped her in with the other performers, despite the fact that she’s fully dressed and they weren’t. She’s been charged with indecent exposure before, so it’s not new, but she’s actually innocent this time. And sober.
She’s been separated from the other girls for some reason, a ray of hope that the cops might actually know she’s not one of the dancers, but she probably shouldn’t get her hopes up. The only other person in the cell is a man who is quite obviously giving her a once over. At least the cell is bars on 3 of the 4 walls, so the officers can see what’s happening inside. If they care.
Midge smooths out her dress and sits down opposite the other man. He looks friendly enough, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. You can’t trust that people have good intentions in a city like this.
“You must be new here,” she says, exhaling deeply and resting her head back against the wall. “It’s not my first rodeo, though it has been a while.”
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He's a bit disappointed to see her sit on the opposite side, but he doesn't blame her. Jaskier wouldn't sit next to the kind of people you usually find in jail either, because of safety but also because of how they fucking smell. Add to this the fact she's a woman and he's a male stranger... yeah, not blaming her at all. Good for her for taking care of herself.
That won't stop him from trying to charm her, of course. He just needs to prove he's friendly first. Jaskier chuckles when she calls him new, waving a dismissive hand with more flourish than necessary. Not even jail will stop him from being dramatic.
"New to this specific establishment?" Oh, the sarcasm is strong. "Yes. But far from new to ending my nights behind bars." A wink - the first of many to come. "If you're willing to clap along, I have at least three songs for Officer Nincompoop over there." The insult matches his tone, which indicates he doesn't like the man at all. His voice turns friendly and curious when he adds- "Although I wouldn't mind hearing how a pretty thing like you has had so many rodeos, as you call them."
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credit of that song to Deerstalker Pictures
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I’m so sorry jaskier
no you're not lol
He’s not sorry either!
he never is lol also laughing so hard at Midge trying to go for a hand kiss (poem by Raj Arumugam)
she thought that was a thing!
she's not completely wrong, sadly Geralt doesn't do court manners
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For John Walker (juniorvarsitycap)
As she walks the few blocks to The White Lion, Midge wonders what kind of impression that she’s going to make on him. She knows her dress is old-fashioned compared to what women from his time wear. Even if she thinks she looks good, he might think she’s outdated. Since she started talking to John, she’s learned a little bit about him and his team. The internet could provide all of the answers that she needs (what an incredible invention), but she doesn’t search too deeply. Midge will give him a chance to tell her about his past rather than to draw her own conclusions based on a Google search.
He’s waiting outside the pub when she arrives; he’s handsome. She is the picture of a chic woman, if that woman happened to be from 1960.
“I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you look like your picture,” Midge says with a smile.
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The first stop, of course, is to pick up some flowers for the lady. He's not terribly old fashioned, but he figures it's a nice touch she might appreciate. He still loses his bearings a bit when venturing out into the big city, but he finds the place without much trouble, if a little early.
He smiles when she approaches, and holds out the bouquet of colorful daisies. "You've got to look that part when you're all over the internet. You look amazing."
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Even though her purse doesn’t look big enough to hold it, Midge has managed to fit a small bakery box in it. She pulls it out and opens it to show John the cupcake inside. “Saved one for you.” She smiles. “Shall we?”
He opens the door to the pub and they find a table in a quiet corner where they can talk. Midge orders a pint of Guinness (when in Rome) and peruses the menu. “You look nice tonight too, by the way,” she says. What’s considered to be dressing up has gotten much more casual than it was in her time, but she takes no offense.
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