𝐅𝐓. 𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐀𝐇:
“ I DON’T KNOW, ” isaiah mumbles. “ i don’t really care if i’m on the floor alone. like i said, i can handle it. it’s dead anyway, ” he shrugs and his eyes drift to the door just as theirs do. he walks to the other side of yves, where the register sits. he takes the customer’s order and it takes no longer than a minute. he walks back to where he stood before and begins to make the latte they ordered.
“ YOU KNOW, JUST school stuff, i guess. ” isaiah finds it odd whenever the two have a conversation that doesn’t involve the passing along of messages from his mom, or asking about shifts and breaks. it feels unfamiliar, yet the two have countless things they could possibly discuss. “ you ? ” his eyes remained on the pitcher and the cup he began to pour the hot milk into.
AS ISAIAH HELPS THAT CUSTOMER , yves makes themself a black tea. they slip a few bills into the register to pay for their own drink when he moves to prepare the order. oh , they had no idea that isaiah was still studying. they fiddle with the plastic cap that goes on the cup , accidentally tearing it. an exasperated sigh as they grab another cap , glaring over the counter like it was the customer’s fault they applied too much force the first time. there’s a quiet pop when it’s on properly.
“ what are you studying ? ” they hide the jealousy that crawls under their skin , wanting desperately to go back to school , to finish the degree they left just a year into. eyes are downcast , a staring contest with the steam that leaves the small hole of their tea. “ nothing notable , not like you. ” yves spent the majority of last night trying to find words that rhyme. humiliating. “ just some lyric stuff , really. ”
5 notes
·
View notes
𝐟𝐭. 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐞:
on days like this, selene very genuinely wonders how she would get anything done without the presence of yves. “ wait, wait, can you bend your elbow back a little more?? or is that kind of flexibility not actually possible?? it has to look like you’ve been dragged across the floor. ”
briefly, she wonders if agatha’s ever had to do anything like this, or if she was just able to write things down without needing to visualise it, to make sure it looked right. was she the funny one for needing to see something to put it down on paper? some days she thought yes, and other days she thought herself clever for it, that everyone should be doing it like this. maybe if everybody had a yves at their disposal, writer’s block wouldn’t be as big a problem anymore.
THEY WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO tell you how they ended up in this position. not the awkward position they’re in on the ground , miming a dead body , but the whole ‘ glorified dummy to help selene write novels ’ thing. yves doesn’t mind , not truly. trying to bend limbs that shouldn’t has been how they’ve come up with some of their rawest lyrics. it also gives yves an excuse to do something other than wallow in their bed or bitch at work or bother innocent patrons at the bookstore.
so they try to follow her directions , muscles pulled taut at their elbow , before giving up and pulling themself into a sitting position. “ that fuckin’ hurt. i thought i was just gonna pretend to be dead , you’re actually trying to kill me. ” a hand runs through their hair to make it sit properly on their face. “ i don’t think that’s possible unless i dislocate my arm , which i’m totally willing to try , but i’d need a little help and the following hospital bill payed. remind me again what this character did to deserve such torture ? ”
4 notes
·
View notes
𝐟𝐭. 𝐯𝐚𝐥:
“ HAVE YOU EVER CONSIDERED THE fact that maybe i just don’t want to ? why do you have beef with the 1975 ? ” val took the phone anyway , quickly glancing at it , skimming through the both familiar and unfamiliar songs included . “ is a cruel angel’s thesis on here ? that’s the only way i’ll play this at all . unravel better be here too . if you’re gonna weebify my store , you better do it right , pal . ” while the tone of his voice remained its normal enthusiastic self , the expression he wore was stoic , taking something such a playlist filled with anime songs far too seriously .
A SCOFF AS VAL SCROLLS through the playlist , seemingly scrolling over the very tracks he’s asking about. “ unravel is the first song on there. dude , kaneki’s the cover picture for the damn playlist. it’d be a disservice to the entire anime soundtrack industry to skip that. cruel angel’s thesis should be the thirty-eight song. i put again instead of rain or hologram so don’t be bitchy about that. check if flyers is on there , i’m 97% sure it is , but if not , i have to delete and redo the entire thing. ” clearly val wasn’t the only one who took this more seriously than they should , but it combined two of maybe three things they cared about : anime and music.
3 notes
·
View notes
𝐅𝐓. 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈:
𝗴𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘁𝘂𝗱𝗲, 𝗶𝗻 𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗺𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗹𝗲𝗱 diminutive, writs itself into the watery smile she proffers them as slender hands, skin still tender and seething from a day’s work of polishing her apparatus, come up to cradle the offering of tea. the warmth promptly leeches any residual cold that’d been latching on, and she sighs. “ how many is that, now ? and just for this week’s tally ? they think they can run all over you just because you’re young and you need the money. ” contempt edges precariously into indignation. “ they’re bullies, yves. ”
YVES ALL BUT FALLS ONTO the couch behind them , sinking into the cushion and staring at the dim ceiling light once she takes the offered drink. “ you sound fifty years older than you are. ” an amused smile as head turns so they can look at their sister. “ would it help if i said i asked for the extra time ? it’s not like it’s anything that difficult. the worst that happens is that i contemplate how much jail time i’d get for throwing chamomile tea at a customer. ” perhaps a badly time joke considering the state of their father , but what’s been said can’t be taken back. “ it’s six months , if you’re interested. ”
1 note
·
View note
82K notes
·
View notes
𝐟𝐭. 𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐡:
WITH A FROWN ON HIS FACE to block out the lights, and feet dragging along the wooden floor, isaiah lazily made his way into the quiet coffee shop. he looked tired; the dark circles under his eyes reflected the sleepless nights spent working on school project after school project. “ hmm ? ” the boy took a second to process what was asked. “ uhhh.. ” he paused again before shrugging, “ like, 5 hours. do you want to take a break ? ” he looked around, noticing the empty chairs, “ i think i’ll manage. ” he gave them a faint smile and a quiet chuckle.
PALMS OF THEIR HANDS RUBS the weariness from their eyes , an exhale as they weigh their options. “ can’t just take a break ten minutes into my shift. ” they look over when the little bell atop the front door rings , signaling a customer’s arrival. “ can you take them ? ” silence was their specialty , small talk not one of their fortes , especially not when it was with a coworker. but they’re bored , goddamn it , and it should be easy to talk to isiah. “ how was your night , do anything interesting ? ” they’re stacking the disposable cups in order of size as a distraction.
5 notes
·
View notes
𝐟𝐭. 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐲:
“ 𝙿𝙷𝙾𝚃𝙾 𝙰𝙻𝙱𝚄𝙼𝚂 ? 𝙷𝙴𝙻𝙻 𝙽𝙾 . i don’t have any photo albums . i found it crumpled up in one of my old jacket pockets . i was probably pissed at you for something one summer and tried to hide our only picture together . ” hand to heart , remy feigns a pained look . “ oh , i’m fun . some would even say i’m too much fun . can’t the fun guy take one night off to do something menial ? ” he reaches over the counter ( which his elbows are fully rested on ) and grabs a biscotti from the jar . “ maybe you should take a page out of my book, yvesie . ”
“ OH , HOW GREATLY IT HURT me that you hid our only picture together. ” every word drips with poorly disguised sarcasm , eyes rolling dramatically. they wipe away a ring of tea left on the counter with a paper napkin , shoving at remy’s elbow. “ you’re paying for that. 2.50 euros. ” their finger taps the glass of the decorated jar. “ and if you’re insinuating that i’m not fun , you’re mistaken. don’t call me yvesie if you know what’s good for you. ”
3 notes
·
View notes
𝐅𝐓. 𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐘𝐀:
AN AMUSED QUIRK OF QUIET LIPS, “ you think i make a habit of storing other peoples belongings so proudly? “ deft hand reached and removed one of the guitars ( a nineteen sixty three gibson firebird iii, a treasured favourite, ) from its place among the others on the wall, “ this is первый снег, “ a light pause, instrument was offered, bridged the small gap between them, “ or… frost, i suppose. here, while i find the jack, “
CHEEKS COLOR PINK , AN EMOTION they’d call adjacent to embarrassment flooding their veins. he’s right , only someone out of his mind would be displaying stolen goods. they try pronouncing the russian , but give up a syllable and a half in , repeating “ frost ” in a daze as they accept the guitar by the neck. the instrument is held gingerly , fingers hovering above the strings like one touch would snap them one by one. “ i — you can’t just let me hold her... wa-wait are you going to let me play ? ”
3 notes
·
View notes
Turn your sadness and troubles into an art.
Hira (via hedonistpoet)
11K notes
·
View notes
𝐅𝐓. 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐘:
“ 𝙷𝙰 ! 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈'𝚁𝙴 𝙺𝙸𝙳𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 , 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈'𝚁𝙴 𝙺𝙸𝙳𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 . i’m one of their most valued patrons . ” it’s uncertain as to whether remy has ever paid for his many drinks at the commune , but she doesn’t need to know that . she scoffs in his direction ; remy shrugs it off . “ not an early bird, i guess . anyway … i found this . ” he holds up a crinkled and worn photograph, which appears to be of–– “ us as babies! we’re so fucking – sorry – we’re so stinking cute . i’m biting your ear , look! ” he keels over in laughter.
THEY LOOK AT REMY , EYES blank and expression somewhere between disbelief and chagrin. photograph is all but snatched out of his hand and held up so that they can examine it. “ so you came here , at ass o’clock in the morning , to bother me about a baby picture. ” yves sets the photograph on the counter. “ were you looking through old photo albums ? why would you waste your time doing that ? ” the last time yves took out one of many hefty albums and leafed through page after page. “ i thought you did something fun for once. ”
3 notes
·
View notes
for @somberday
EARLY MORNINGS WERE NOT THEIR thing , but work was work. they’re half asleep behind the counter , business surprisingly slow when isaiah clocks in. “ monrin’ ” yves speaks around a yawn , not bothering to cover the action. “ how long until this shit is over and we can leave ? ”
5 notes
·
View notes
for @velourspun
“ SORRY , SORRY , I KNOW I’M late. i had to cover someone’s shift. ” a large cup of earl grey is held out as a peace offering. “ does this make it any better ? ”
1 note
·
View note
for @iceblooms
“ ARE THESE REALLY ALL YOURS ? ” eyes are wide as they look at the stringed instruments. their finger twitches , wanting to get their hands on one of them. “ did you name them ? how long have you been playing ? ”
3 notes
·
View notes
for @stagedsituation
“ I’M LITERALLY BEGGING YOU TO do something about the music in here. ” they pull their phone out of their pocket and open up spotify. a playlist entitled ‘ loser ’ and filled with anime soundtracks is clicked on. “ play this. ”
3 notes
·
View notes
𝐅𝐓. 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐘:
𝙰𝚂 𝙴𝚇𝙿𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙾𝙽 𝙰𝙽𝚈 𝙼𝙾𝙽𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶 , the brew commune presents the perfect morning atmosphere. warm and spicy aromas bloom around the tables where early birds sit , still rubbing sleep from their eyes. the world seems to be frozen in time … until–– “ yves ! you have no idea what i–– ” the light chittering and clinking suddenly ceases. remy looks around only to be met with glares , his raucous tone interrupting the tranquil ambience that the brew commune promises its morning patrons. he clears his throat , lowers his voice. “ sorry –– geez , didn’t realize this was a library –– you have no idea what i did last night. ” he stands behind the one customer in line , who yves happens to be helping , only to continue over their head , “ ask me what i did. ”
WORK WAS DIFFICULT ENOUGH WITHOUT people who aren’t here to buy food pestering them. when they catch remy walk in , they almost ask for their break a few hours early. his voice is piercing and their hand itches for their headphones , but they’ve already been reprimanded once. “ i’m so sorry. ” they say to the woman they’re helping with a tight smile. “ we’re trying to get him banned from here , don’t worry. ” a glare is sent over the customer’s head as they hand her a mocha with what should constitute as too much whipped cream. after she steps away , yves leans on the counter in front of them , gripping the edge with their hands with a sigh. “ what did you do last night , remy ? ”
3 notes
·
View notes
Journal page.
6K notes
·
View notes
Kathleen Glasgow, Girl in Pieces
5K notes
·
View notes