#fatigucs

i’ll beat my face hella and open doors for u and call u my goddess divine or something if u want

fatigucs replied to your post: fro-yo date is definitely off, who wants to love...

can i come get fro-yo w/ you even tho im lactose intolerant

i think they have dairy free fro yo at my place, or u can just grab like a cupcake at the place next door??

❛ ———d’you ever miss it? the adventure... the danger? not to knock this whole bonnie and clyde thing we’ve got going on here but we haven’t done much in the sense of thrill seeking. ❜

a deep breath was taken in before it was let out; eyes closing tightly as he made his way forward. if anything, this was a question that had to be asked ---- there was only so much he could handle. off-key singing was one thing, but at least he wanted to be prepared for it, and that helped with knowing what movie would be playing tonight. 

usually, derrek would have simply put in ear-plugs for the off-key singing from the rest of shoreline, but he was at least trying to be prepared. truth be told, you could only  handle so much off-key singing of the lion king before you decided to blast death metal for hours on end.

❝ ------- So, what will it be tonight? The Lion king or the one with Frodo? ❞

❛  that’s  a  good  place  to  sit  with  people.  ❜   her  response  is  quick,  but  traditional  bite  doesn’t  necessarily  linger   :   it’s  not  defensive,  nor  a  lie,  rather   –   it’s  blatant  truth.  her  morality  is  questionable,  consistently  up  for  purchase   ;   highest  bidder  and  all  that.  if  she  gave  off  one  vibe,  per  say,  it  could  detour  another  type  of  client   –   sitting  pretty  in  the  neutral  area  of  someone’s  judgement  was  always  desired.always.  besides,  maybe  a  neutral  stance  made  him  a   SMART  MAN,   assumptions  were  ugly,  people  got  underestimated   –   it  could  lead  to  hideous  things,  unfortunatethings.  

the  heels  on  worn  boots  hook  along  the  bottom  rung  of  stool,  fingertips  dancing  over  bottom  lips  before  ghosting  the  rim  of  her  glass.  business  in  the  states  wasn’t  her  favorite,  but  there  were  plenty  of   CROOKED  SOULS   looking  to  purchase  unsavory  services   –   a  mercenary  could  make  quite  the  living  on  the  twisted  underbelly  of  the  society  alone.  knuckles  curl  and  cradle  the  sharp  edge  of  her  jawline,  the  corner  of  lips  twitching  upward  into  a  coy  smile.   ❛  i’d  like  to  keep  it that  way.  ❜

    “ It’s kept me alive for this long. “

When you were a bartender, it was kind of like being a BACK ALLEY PSYCHIATRIST. People came in, desperate for ADVICE and MEDICATION from a stranger. Afraid of needles but steadily asking for shot after shot, until their lips were as loose as their POCKETBOOK.           ‘ Should I quit my job? ‘    ‘ Do you think she’s into me? ‘    ‘ He comes home smelling like perfume. ‘

Just spilling ALL kinds of personal shit, y’know? Things that could easily be flipped around and used to make their lives a living hell. You know what they say about loose lips and sinking ships, right? But maybe they could sense that Luke just wasn’t that type of dude. He ain’t have time to be BLACKMAILING anybody --- too busy worrying about his own shit.

This shorty was different, though. She kept to herself, she stuck to beer  ( or light cocktails ), and she sat facing the door. Her eyebrows were recently tweezed, but her knuckles bore fresh cuts with red smiles.

She was beautiful, and dangerous, like a black mamba --- and ( Sweet Christmas! ) he was kind of into it.

A fresh pair of ice cold bottles clanked atop the counter, his grin white as snow in the dim lightning as he twisted off the caps with his bare hand. As though the jagged edges SHOULDN’T have torn the skin from his fingers.

     “ So you like keeping me on the fence. See, most        people try to get on the bartender’s GOOD side.        But I guess you enjoy rockin’ that whole deep and        mysterious vibe. I got you. “

Luke slapped down a bev nap before he sat down the fresh brew, his index finger tapping the wood near her first.

       “Now, finish up. No babysitting in my bar. “ 

❛ don’t tell me you’re STILL mad about the  sam   incident...  ❜ fingers settle comfortably at the curve of her waist // though he knows she’s a hazard to touch ----they say the MOST beautiful things are deadly  ;  roses have thorns for a reason. lions && wolves with their fangs  &&  claws (  THE BETTER TO TEAR YOU APART DARLING. THE BETTER TO EAT YOU ALIVE DARLING.  ) still he dares ; a man, a mortal, ------he dares to feast on the flesh of  a DRAGON QUEEN. she could drown him in flames, melt the skin from his ivory bones, kill the madness that lies within -----still he dares. ❛ forget about that nadine, i promise i’ll make it up to you. ❜

running  with   MERCENARIES   and   THIEVES   and   WAR  CRIMINALS  tends  to  dilute  the  fantasy  a  little  bit,  not  that  she  took  notice  often.  there  were  plenty  of  other  things  on  her  mind  besides  men  and  their  unfortunate  pitfalls   (  or  women  and  their  equally  as  dismaying…  traits  ).   she  had  her  father’s  army  family  business   (  past  tense  ),   she  had  bills  to  pay,  contracts  to  seek,  money  to  make,  freedom  to  swallow  in  calloused  fistfuls.  truthfully,  she  belonged  to   no  one   :   not  government,  or  peoples,  or  things.  perhaps,  if  anything  owned  her,  it  was  her   WORK,  but  that  was  debatable  considering  the  ugly  streak  on  her  record.

but  fixing  that,  lightening  the  stain,  was  why  she  was  here  to  begin  with  right   –   after  all,  the  states  weren’t  exactly  her  honed  vacation  spot.

   ❛  a  distraction??  ❜   there’s  a  charming  malevolence  to  her  tone,  the  twinge  of  power  lifting  at  the  corners  of  her  mouth.  nadine  ross  didn’t  have  to  rely  on  anything,  usually, but  her  skillset  to  prove  a  point   –   to  win  the  position  of  power  through  sheer  brutality  if  necessary.  but  occasionally,  it  was  the   LITTLE  THINGS,   the  minuscule  inches  that  would  make  a  mile  if  they  were  stretched  enough.  manipulation  isn’t  her  favorite,  she’s  not  a  thief  by  any  means,  but  it’s  useful  sometimes.   (  like  getting  another  drink,  in  this  case.  )   the  mercenary  lets  her  eyes  crinkle  into  something  playfully  narrow   –   she  can’t  say  she  minds  his  company.  yet,  at  least.

  ❛  you’ve  got  a  name,  or  are  american’s  above  introductions  now??  ❜   her  last  couple  clients  were  above  it   :   rich  old  men  with  carefully  carved  frowns   –   distaste  at  her  looming  presence,  with  giving  her  money.  she  can  taste their  low  expectations,  it  makes  it  all  the  better  to  rub  their  snouts  into  her  success.  her  mouth  is  quick  with  continuing,  faint  smile  never  quite  dissipating  completely  from  its  corners,   ❛  ross   –   nadine   ross,  by  the  way.  ❜

     “ Like you didn’t know. “

Nadine might have thought she was running game, but Luke was no SPRING CHICKEN. It would have been nothing for her to get a free drink or two and skip out on him, and yet she was still there talking to him. And unless he was mistaken, the woman seemed to be enjoying herself. Which didn’t seem to happen too often, from what he could gather.

Both elbows came to rest on the bartop, wood creaking faintly underneath his bulk. A single finger pointed towards a neon sign somewhere along the far wall, highlighting his name in yellow and blue.

     “ Luke. Luke Cage. Pleasure is all mine,        Nadine. Truly. “

He eyed her for a long minute, smile toying at full lips, before shifting his weight and moving to fix them two shots. Straight liquor, nothing fancy or girly.

     “ Take a drink with me, Miss Ross? “