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Today's Document
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@askjehanprouvaire
“Tell me who hurt you.”
Jean smiled sadly and closed his book of poems slowly, clearing his throat. “Who hurt me?” Where to begin, he thought bitterly.”This is pretty sudden, why the question, Courf?” The blonde asked hesitantly, only now looking up form the closed cover of his book.
Irish Coffee - closed
“Is that so?” Jacob raised a brow, eyeing the young man a little closer. Guilt, Jacob knew. Self-hatred, bone-crushing despair, he knew. Fear and aggression, disgust and shame, Jacob knew, as well. But worry? Talking to this boy, this blonde little barista with the beautiful locks and the awkward smile, Jacob realized that he didn’t worry all too often. He always jumped head first into every situation, every challenge, every battle - sometimes with less thinking than would be necessary or wise - and figured out the rest while he was doing whatever he was doing.
“And what’d be the worst thing to happen tonight, kid?” Jacob chuckled. “Besides poisoned food. But I promise they won’t poison you anytime soon. You’re good, kid. You’re good.”
He could still see the flickering of worry in Jean’s eyes. Questions he didn’t dare ask. Wasn’t he trusting Jacob? It would be reasonable. Maybe it would be even wise. Maybe Jacob couldn’t be trusted, even – or especially – when his intentions were good. He wasn’t a saint. He wasn’t a good man. But somehow, the thought stung. Maybe, for one evening, Jacob wanted to at least pretend that he could be good. For Jean.
“What is it?” he asked softly, before the he chuckled again at Jean’s comment. It was endearing when the boy was trying to joke. A little clumsy, a little awkward, but definitely endearing.
“I… did notice you were making a joke,” he chuckled again, focusing on the menu just to keep himself from looking at this wondrous young man again. To keep himself from looking for just a second too long. “You know… it usually kinda ruins the joke when you’re saying you’re joking or when you’re explaining it.” He went over the menu for the sixth time tonight, trying to act casual.
“You’re not talking too much, don’t be silly. You’re good. Why’re you so nervous, anyway?”
He closed the menu again and gestured for the waitress to take their order. “Guess you’ll find out what kind of weird American pizza that is, huh? Pepperoni it is. And calm down. It’s just pizza. You look like you live on coffee and ramen alone. Besides, you can repay me, huh?” For a moment, his heart stopped as Jacob realized how that must have sounded. “With coffee, I mean.”
Jacob was more than relieved when the waitress came over. “Two pepperoni pizzas. And… a beer…” he would have rather held on a glass of whiskey or two – or four - but he didn’t want to look like an alcoholic. Which he wasn’t. Not at all. “You want a beer, as well? Or something else? What d’you wanna drink?”
“Yes...I basically was born being concerned about everything. I mean...it became worse over time, as I grew up, but I’m always worrying about what will happen, or what could happen. Then when I’m done worrying about what will happen, I worry about what did happen, what I did, what was done. It’s a vicious cycle really.” Jean admitted, laying his hands in his lap as he threw a last glance at the menu on the table before letting his attention stray once again to Jacob. What a nice name, a name even the Americans couldn’t slaughter with their awful way of saying things. It was a beautiful name in French and English alike, he liked the way it sounded in his head.
“The worst thing? Gosh, you could kidnap me and keep me in your basement, if you have one. Or harvest my organs to sell them on the...black market? That’s what it’s called in English right? There’s a lot of things you could do or I could end the night completely fine. But of course my brain chooses the first two options as the ones to focus on.” A sigh escaped flushed lips as he shoved his cold hands under his thighs to warm them.
“I am not the best at making jokes, at least not in English...not in French either really, but I’m more worse at English definitely and I am nervous because...because I have not many friends here in America, not any really so I am just not used to talking to people.” A shy smile pulled at the edge of his lips and once again his eyes were quick to leave the face of the man before him, finding it too hard to keep eye contact for longer than a couple of minutes. “I didn’t know you knew the contents of my pantry...have you been spying on me, Jacob?” The name rolled of his tongue in his French accent, he didn’t even attempt to say it the proper American way, it would be a disservice to the both of them if he tried.
At that he stiffened, however, swallowing a lump that had suddenly formed at the base of his throat.”I...uh, just water for me.” He cleared his throat once again, smiling at the waitress and thanking her as she finished taking their order. After a small moment of silence, he spoke up: “So...what do you work as?” Was that too personal? “If you want to say to me...”
@askjehanprouvaire
Please tell me Jean looks a bit like this :P
Oh he definitely does look like this, just a bit more blond, but the body, face, definitely all Jean
Okay, so Jacob totally, wholeheartedly, definitely wants and needs this :P
The aesthetic with the flowers behind him is also sooo Jean, and he wants this too don’t worry ;)
Jean fumbled around for another couple moments, shoving the contents of his bag back in, wiping some loose dirt from his jeans before finally managing to straighten up and get a good glimpse of the man infront of him. As he did his eyes widened just slightly, then his cheeks turned bright red as he was now forced to face the shirtless man before him who had a sort of Greek statue like sheen of sweat to him, his muscles tense under dark skin. Jean blinked a couple times before forcing his gaze back up to those of warm mahogany ones.”You don’t have to do that.” He finally managed to say, pulling the strap of his bag on his shoulder, doing anything to keep himself busy and not let his eyes wandered where they maybe shouldn’t.”But if you really want to, I haven’t had breakfast and bagels sound nice right about now…” That stunning smile had him reeling for a breath and it took him a moment to realize the man was speaking to him.”Oh…I um..Jean. Prouvaire, my name is Jean Prouvaire.” He reached for his hand before stopping himself right before.”Theyre kinda gross right now…sorry.” He said gesturing to one of his hands, now slightly dark and dirty from having caught himself on the asphalt.
The crimson blush that spreads across the younger male’s cheeks only made him even more beautiful to Patrick, he looked like an expensive doll, one that Patrick wanted to take care of. Patrick knew he was breathtaking himself, but he truthfully had nothing on Jean’s gorgeous looks. “Of course I really want to,” Patrick says with another smile, nodding when the other tells him his name, eyes locked on to Jean’s. “Jean Prouvaire.” He says, testing it out on his tongue and deciding that he liked it. “Un beau nom pour un beau garçon.” Patrick says in French, reaching down and taking Jean’s hand in his despite being dirty, delicately bringing it to his lips to kiss his knuckles before letting it go. Patrick grabs the shirt hooked on his waistband and pulls it over his torso, “Come on, Jean, follow me.” Patrick says, starting to walk away towards the coffee shop.
The crimson blush that spreads across the younger male’s cheeks only made him even more beautiful to Patrick, he looked like an expensive doll, one that Patrick wanted to take care of. Patrick knew he was breathtaking himself, but he truthfully had nothing on Jean’s gorgeous looks. “Of course I really want to,” Patrick says with another smile, nodding when the other tells him his name, eyes locked on to Jean’s. “Jean Prouvaire.” He says, testing it out on his tongue and deciding that he liked it. “Un beau nom pour un beau garçon.” Patrick says in French, reaching down and taking Jean’s hand in his despite being dirty, delicately bringing it to his lips to kiss his knuckles before letting it go. Patrick grabs the shirt hooked on his waistband and pulls it over his torso, “Come on, Jean, follow me.” Patrick says, starting to walk away towards the coffee shop.
Jean couldn’t help but to notice the intense gaze with which Patrick considering him, and he found himself looking down, almost unable to take the attention, his eyes feeling like they were burning into his skin. “If you insist then.” He smiled and shoved one hand into his jean pocket, forcing himself to meet his gaze, only to find himself turning dark again, smiling to himself as his hands was taken in a surprisingly gentle grip and met with even softer lips. “Ah...merci. Tu..parles francais?” it was surprising, he wasn’t used to people in this country or city speaking french with him. He took his noew free hand and ran it through his untamed blonde curls in an attempt to fix them, a failed one at that before following behind.”You usually run in the morning?” Jean asked as they walked.
Jean fumbled around for another couple moments, shoving the contents of his bag back in, wiping some loose dirt from his jeans before finally managing to straighten up and get a good glimpse of the man infront of him. As he did his eyes widened just slightly, then his cheeks turned bright red as he was now forced to face the shirtless man before him who had a sort of Greek statue like sheen of sweat to him, his muscles tense under dark skin. Jean blinked a couple times before forcing his gaze back up to those of warm mahogany ones.”You don’t have to do that.” He finally managed to say, pulling the strap of his bag on his shoulder, doing anything to keep himself busy and not let his eyes wandered where they maybe shouldn’t.”But if you really want to, I haven’t had breakfast and bagels sound nice right about now...” That stunning smile had him reeling for a breath and it took him a moment to realize the man was speaking to him.”Oh...I um..Jean. Prouvaire, my name is Jean Prouvaire.” He reached for his hand before stopping himself right before.”Theyre kinda gross right now...sorry.” He said gesturing to one of his hands, now slightly dark and dirty from having caught himself on the asphalt.
open to: m setting: your muse is an escort that Silas sees regularly
The shower didn’t seem to take the tension away, Silas thinks as he puts the hotel robe on and stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror; the awfully eventful day left him begging for a break, some time for himself, a chance to relax and blow some steam off, one way or another. The plan was to have dinner with his wife but when she’s cancelled on him last minute, Silas turned to the only other person he can see himself spending the evening and the night with.
He walks out of the bathroom and heads straight for the mini-bar; he pours way too much scotch into his glass. He looks at the other man and smiles at him. “Want me to make you one, too? Doesn’t have to be this strong, just saying.”
This was the worst part...the waiting, the sitting with his fingers wrapped tightly around his kneecaps, tips digging into the skin under his tight Jeans. He didn’t hate being an escort, he could have it harder, he knew that, but he was still always nervous. Less with Silas, as at least they knew each other somewhat well now, but still, the nerves didn’t disappear, no matter how many times he did it.
His gaze lifts to meet that of Silas’ and his usual ‘escort’ smile, as he liked to call it, formed on his lips. “I don’t drink, but...thank you. That’s sweet of you.” He stood slowly then, running his hands down his shirt to smooth out wrinkles. “You seemed stressed.” He noted as he slid up next to him at the mini bar, his fingers grazing the skin of his upper arm.
COLLIDE.
open starter / open to bottoms / connections: strangers / Patrick + ?
Patrick runs as fast as he can, the cool morning air rushing around his shirtless body, and the faint sign of the sign rising over the water fading in to view. Maybe he’s running from his problems, the stress of work, his kids, and his life in general, but he likes to thin he’s running for himself, to keep himself in shape. Either way, he needed this, and he needed it bad. He closes his eyes for a few seconds as he runs faster, focusing on his breathing and the feel of the breeze against his sweaty skin, and that’s when he feels it – a collision with another body that makes him stumble, but he doesn’t fall, he keeps himself up. He pulls out his earphones and turns to see the other person sprawled on the ground.
“I”m so sorry.” Patrick says breathlessly, reaching down to help the person stand up. “I wasn’t looking where I was going, this is completely my fault. Are you hurt? Is everything okay?” Patrick asks, his brown eyes filled with concern and he looks into theirs for the first time, and he feels his breath slowly being taken away from him even more. They were stunning.
Tête en l’air. What his mother loved to tell him with her bright eyes and a smile, as he ran into another pole, tripped over another crack or got in trouble again for not paying attention in class. He’d often find himself in another world, forgetting all about the one he was in to daydream of different worlds, different people, even different galaxies. It made him the worst student, but the best poet. What he always wanted to tell them, when he was reprimanded by teachers and principals, was that he didn’t want to stay in his world. Why not live in imaginary worlds full of hope, when his own world was dark and shrouded in pain.
So, he wasn’t surprised when he found himself sprawled on the asphalt, palms stinging and curls clouding his vision. “No..no it’s fine. I wasn’t paying attention..my head was in the clouds.” He forced a curt smile and pushed his curls out of his face and hesitantly reached to grasp the hand reaching out for him. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” As he said that, he looked at the palms of his hands, where scrapes on his skin began to bead slowly with blood then back up at the man, gulping as he did, blushing even.”Just a scrape it’s fine. I’ve got paper skin I swear.” A forced chuckle escaped his lips as he reached down to grab a spare shirt he had in his bag to wipe his hands. “Please don’t feel bad, cause’ then I’ll feel bad.” He whispered, shoving what had fallen out of his bag back into, while also retrieving the headphones that had come out of the man’s ears, making sure to touch them with just his fingertips. “Here...sorry.”
open to: m / f/ nb suggested connections: boyfriend, girlfriend,best friend. Santiago has been drinking a little more than he normally does ever since his sister Elena, who is military, started talking about wanting to go back. While she was away,he went a little hard with the alcohol as well and it seems he’s going back into the cycle.
“Not depressed, tired. There’s a difference.” Santiago brought the beer back up to his lips to take another drink before rolling his eyes. It seemed like every time he needed to loosen up now, someone was telling him that he needed to see a professional about it. So what if after a long day coding, he wanted a little him-time? It didn’t always have to be at a bar, but they were the most entertaining places for him to go. “You know, if this bothers you so much, you don’t actually have to stick around. It’s not like it would hurt my feelings or whatever if you took out.” That came out a little harsher than intended, but he wasn’t taking it back. He didn’t have to. They were the ones who practically followed him here and broke into his me-time bubble, no kindness owed there.
“Tired...doesn’t make you drink,” Jean whispered, his gaze never leaving the amber bottle as it moved from the table to Santiago’s lips, before looking away, swallowing the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. He didn’t mean to micromanage, he hadn’t even meant to follow Santiago to the barn, but something inside him almost warned him that if he didn’t step in now, things would only get worse. He already feared that he was too annoying or overstepped his boundaries too often as it was, now he was worried he’d done even worse and become an annoyance. “I...-” He couldn't even finish his sentence, the glass of juice he’d been gripping tightly in his hand being put down a bit harder than he meant. “I’m only worried, I’m not trying to pester or bother you, Santiago.” He whispered. pinching the point between his nose and forehead, fighting back tears and only just managing to. “If you want me to leave, ask me, then I’ll leave. I just... I care, okay? That’s all.”
plot. nolan returning to family after an fbi undercover job lasting longer than promised. open. males & 34+ & partner/husband. about nolan.
nolan’s not a very outwardly sentimental man ( no goddamn kidding ), but it’d be an absolute lie to say he’s not tearing up a little bit. after all, it’s been nearly a year since he’d seen his partner, their kid. even with the promise of some time to recuperate from his undercover job, it seemed too good to believe. especially with the continuous paranoia running rampant in his brain. he’s pretty sure they’re hugging him tighter, bordering on constricting rather than comforting, but he doesn’t mind. in fact, he’s dreading the moment they let go. “ – hi. ”
barely living. that’s how jean had been since Nolan’s job had gone from a couple weeks to a couple months. He went from missing him to almost needing him in the span of weeks, how couldn’t he? Nolan had become the life jacket keeping him afloat for a while, and he thought he had become strong enough to float on his own but now as they held each other, it felt like he was taking his first breath in months, like he’d been underwater with just the tip of his nose above the surface keeping him alive. This was his first full breath, one that filled his lungs with air. “hi.” He whispered just as quietly, before pressing his face into the nape of his neck, taking in the scent that he had only been getting in faint residues on pillows and sweaters he wore around the house. “i missed you” the words came out more choked and broken than he had meant.
{The Morning After}
“ shit, I’m late for work ”
“ ugh, not you again ”
“ did I lose a bet last night? ”
“ I can’t believe I just did that ”
“ you cannot tell anyone about this ”
“ you cannot tell _____ about this ”
“ that was amazing ”
“ my name’s _____, by the way ”
“ where did you learn to do that? ”
“ well this will be an exciting diary entry ”
“ why are we outside? ”
“ I’m sorry I broke your bed ”
“ so… breakfast? ”
“ I think I need to shower for a year ”
“ we have to stop doing this ”
“ I really hope I’m/you’re not pregnant ”
“ I didn’t know you had a tattoo ”
“ wanna go again? ”
“ I ache all over ”
“ you might be the best I’ve ever had ”
“ that wasn’t what I planned ”
“ why is there glitter everywhere? ”
“ karaoke isn’t usually such a turn on for me ”
“ that was better than last time ”
“ does this mean we’re dating? ”
“ I’m so hungover ”
“ what did you say your name was? ”
“ I need a cigarette ”
“ are you sure that was alright? ”
“ I don’t cuddle ”
askjehanprouvaire:
The calm reassurance that followed from the man was enough to settle him enough for his hands to still and his eyes to move from the seemingly still place, finally glancing anywhere but those captivating eyes. “Except your…back I’m sure. It must hurt?” He whispered as he pushed himself up and onto his knees, now finding himself straddling the man’s hips rather than splayed out on top of him like before.”I’m really sorry…I’m such a klutz.”
“What? Oh, nah, nothin’ I haven’t felt before.” And it certainly wasn’t the worst either. “It’s fine, promise- hey, I’ll even pinky promise.” Keifer lifted a hand with his pinky finger crooked out in emphasis.
“Are you sure?” Jean asked quietly, fingers pushing blonde curls away from his cherubic face, his eyebrows furrowed as he watched the man’s face for any sign of discomfort.”If you say so.” A hint of a smile formed on his lips as he hooked his own finger with the other man’s before releasing and finally forcing himself to stand up, reaching out to help him up.”how about I...take you to lunch for your trouble?”
askjehanprouvaire:
The warm air around them suddenly felt still, as if every particle, every molecule had stopped moving, scared to perturb the two. The whole world seemed to have halted just to watch, or so it felt for him. Maybe for Keifer it was a passing moment of slight importance, just a quick mistake, Jean had tripped, they had fallen, that’s all it was to him. To Jean, however, it meant everything, it meant a gentle touch he had not yet felt in his life, it meant feeling safe because someone had caught him and kept him from falling, instead of pushing him down for once.
His heart raced in his chest and his hands shook where the lay on the floor by the man’s head, bright cerulean orbs laying frigid on like ones, his skin tingling where fingers gently gripped his upper arms, like the atoms there were lit up with electricity.
He gulped.
“I…uh sorry I’ll get off.” His voice came out weak and shaky, and his actions opposed that of his words, as he stayed stuck where he was, like he couldn’t move. Frozen.
Looks like he wasn’t the only one that got hit with nerves. It was oddly reassuring, and, hey, those dumb words were already out of his mouth so what’s a few more going to do? Probably a lot of bad, but he had never been the best with filtering them in the first place. “-’s alright, no harm done.” Not even the dull ache in his back could deter him from staying here.
The calm reassurance that followed from the man was enough to settle him enough for his hands to still and his eyes to move from the seemingly still place, finally glancing anywhere but those captivating eyes. “Except your...back I’m sure. It must hurt?” He whispered as he pushed himself up and onto his knees, now finding himself straddling the man’s hips rather than splayed out on top of him like before.”I’m really sorry...I’m such a klutz.”
open to males | summary here | stats here | rules here
Talk about tension. If Keifer thought about it really hard he could conjure the reason as to why they were in this position, but the only thing he could revolve his mind around was how the other man felt on top of him. They were so close yet there was also too much distance in between them at the same time. It drove his heart rate up a goddamn skyscraper, and he was almost sure anyone could hear how it thudded against his rib cage.
“Huh,” he breathed and ignored the way his voice dipped into a deeper timbre. “Fancy seeing how great the world looks from this point of view.” Of course, he’d be the one to try and crack a joke given the slight fear he had of doing something wrong, but the words were out of his mouth before he could think twice.
The warm air around them suddenly felt still, as if every particle, every molecule had stopped moving, scared to perturb the two. The whole world seemed to have halted just to watch, or so it felt for him. Maybe for Keifer it was a passing moment of slight importance, just a quick mistake, Jean had tripped, they had fallen, that’s all it was to him. To Jean, however, it meant everything, it meant a gentle touch he had not yet felt in his life, it meant feeling safe because someone had caught him and kept him from falling, instead of pushing him down for once.
His heart raced in his chest and his hands shook where the lay on the floor by the man’s head, bright cerulean orbs laying frigid on like ones, his skin tingling where fingers gently gripped his upper arms, like the atoms there were lit up with electricity.
He gulped.
“I...uh sorry I’ll get off.” His voice came out weak and shaky, and his actions opposed that of his words, as he stayed stuck where he was, like he couldn’t move. Frozen.
@askjehanprouvaire || plotted shit
“THE USUAL, YES.” jordan slides the cash over the counter, offering a faint smile. “i’ll be sitting by the window, you know where to find me.” and he takes a seat at the same spot where he always sits, occupying the small round table with several piles of empty sheets of paper and an entire collection of fabric samples. today is designing day, and since there’s plenty of personnel at the store, there’s no need for jordan to stay there and perhaps take up old patterns - he wants new stuff. fresh stuff.
A curt nod is all that follows, bright blue eyes following the mysterious man to where he always sat. Of course Jean knew where he was, every time he came he couldn’t tear his eyes off of him, finding himself bumping into coffee machines, having often accidentally scarred small areas of his soft wrists while his attention was caught by those hands, those eyes...that hair. There he went again, daydreaming...and he didn’t even know his name. Right, the usual, an espresso and a plain croissant, easy enough. Even he couldn’t mess that up.
Minutes later and he was carefully sauntering over to the table, where he set the coffee and pastry down.”Here you go.” His voice came out quieter than he wanted, he had told himself to be brave and yet there he was barely mumbling again.”What are you working on today?” A bit louder this time. He smiled at his own courage.
Mafia Themed Sentences
{ trigger warnings: violence, noncon/dubcon implications } originally from memeroundups but the post has been deleted so we’re reposting it.
“You’d do well to pay. It’s in your best interest.“
“We have ways of making you talk.”
“The moment you came to us, we owned you.”
“I’m not guarding the boss’s kid to play babysitter. Sit and behave.”
“You run your mouth again and see what happens.”
“I don’t care how tired you are, you don’t turn down clients until I say you can.”
“Didn’t think I’d catch you, eh? Run away again, and I’ll break your legs.”
“That was your first kill, you should feel proud. Hey… you don’t look so good…”
“I don’t know what kind of ideas you’re getting but remember this… without me, you’re nothing.”
“The world will eat you if you let it. That’s why it’s everyone for themselves. But here, you’ve got loyalty.”
“Don’t be ungrateful… on your own with this kind of city, you’d be laying face down on a ditch if he/she hadn’t found you.”
“You used to be such a good kid… glad I was able to break that out of you.”
“I think there’s a mole in our operations… and you don’t exactly seem innocent to me.”
“There’s no out. Even if you tried to kill yourself, we’ll just lock you up.”
“Consider this a ‘gentle’ reminder of respect when speaking to me.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll start to enjoy it soon enough.”
“You might be a ruthless brute, but you’re ‘my’ ruthless brute.”
“Kill him/her.”
“They don’t wanna pay? Burn their house down.”
“Don’t you know? You’re the gang’s ‘pet’.”
“I think they’ve earned their lesson, you can stop hitting him/her now.”
“Do you honestly intend to get this far without getting your hands dirty?”
“He’s/she’s squirming around too much, drug them.”
“Far as you know, I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”
“I’m sick of this, I want out.”
“N-no… I… I didn’t want to kill him.”
“I’m through with being your fucking lap dog.”
“People wanna kill me in my sleep…”
“I’m tired of being numb and desensitized. I’m tired of killing before I eat a goddamn breakfast like nothing happened. I’m tired of this life.”
“If anything happens, I’ll take the blame. And don’t you dare to try to put it all on you this time, don’t even fucking think about it.”
“I don’t care if my demands are silly, if you don’t do them, then your boss won’t be pleased if I suddenly got ‘injured’ under your watch.
“Do you even know what you started? The riot and upcoming gang war will be beyond what your fucking punk ass can handle!”
“How about we make a deal?”
“Oh don’t worry, I won’t make a move anytime soon, but I’ll be watching you.”
“Are you willing to take a bullet for me?”
“I don’t know if I’m willing to forgive you just yet. Maybe if I throw another punch…”
“I’m a person, and not someone for you to order around.”
“You think you’re hot shit, but I’m the one who does your dirty work.”
“You honestly believed I would never turn against you?”
“M-my leg… it’s shot, I can’t walk…”
“I ran away, but they’ll be looking for me I know it.”
“You don’t need to get involved. Just walk away.”
“Who said not to mix business with pleasure? Let’s talk this over with a date…”
“If they find out I’m sleeping with you, they’ll kill me.”
“Don’t worry, I heard human trafficking isn’t so bad. At least they’re not harvesting your organs.”
“Please, let me go. I won’t do it again, please.”
“It was simply a mistake on my part, it won’t happen again. I promise.”
“No no, I’m not interested in your friends. I want you. Give yourself over, and they’ll be safe.”
“You can sell me, but I’ll fight it with every fiber of my being.”
“Hey hey, are you passing out? Come on, tell me names and I’ll stop the beatings.”
“I trusted you. You were the only one I trusted, and for what? So you can stab my back?”
“I can’t believe what you’re doing! Untie me, now. Do you have any idea what deep shit you’re in?!”
“Just do what you’re told, like you always do.”
“I know you’ve been tailing me.”
“Care to explain why you were attempting to kidnap me?”
“You know, you’re always such a fucking thorn on my side. But laying on the ground, beaten and helpless, you ain’t lookin’ half bad…”
“Alright, you just quietly sit there on that chair lookin’ pretty. I’ll go collect your ransom.”
“Did you just hit me, you fucking piece of-”
“We can run away together.”
“Come on, let me help you!”
“Then you’ll be going to the highest bidder. Grand, eh? Ready for the auction?”
“I don’t care what kind of best you have, you’re okay in my book.”
“Shit, they weren’t supposed to die. Alright, we gotta cover this up. Grab that body.”
“Can’t you ever follow orders?”
snap;
charlie: on a scale of 1-10 how much do i look like a dad charlie: i feel like a strong 7
jean: i would say its a least a hard 7.8
jean: the hat definitely adds to the dad factor
