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ok!! i was inspired by this post from the wonderful rsl provider, @jimmywilsonschutzpah, to learn rsl's guitar bit in Chelsea Walls, "Softly and Tenderly". i learnt it by ear this very morning so please excuse any inaccuracies, my ear only gets me so far !! would've sung it, but I have to jump between registers and I hate my high voice sooooo the instrumental will have to do,, I'll never have a voice as angelic as his, sigh...
i hope any rsl fans enjoy !!! :)
#dead poets society#house md#james wilson#robert sean leonard#neil perry#guitar#music !!!#woaaaah#meeks plays !!#(bet ya didnt see THAT tag comin huh?)#meeks speaks !!
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coffee shop au 4 (the one with the different names written on the coffee on different days) with ralbert? :)
disclaimer: don’t give me shit for their names i am TERRIBLE at names
but yea here are the sappho de lesbos stans
Once again, the ‘mystery customer’ was striking.
That sounding pretty ominous, it was nothing that serious. It was just that every week, always on a different day, they’d get that girl coming in. And she’d come at times it was pretty dead, most likely to get the same barista. There she always went, leaning on the counter, giving these soft eyes and these sweet words, and she’d leave with her order. It was never the same order either, she just… drank of everything, apparently. Your fave could never.
Somehow, she was indeed having an effect on that barista she was messing with, but that didn’t make her any less frustrating to deal with. Yeah, the flirting was nice, but if she had a set name it’d just be so much easier, wouldn’t it ? Because giving a different name every week was getting a little old.
Of course, the barista would get quite frustrated after some time, how couldn’t she ? It’d been going on long enough. And the list of names… were similar, for some. Sometimes just complete unrealistic jokes. She could remember them all - Race, Racer, Racetrack, Antonio, Anthony, Tony, even Edmund and Ed,… Pretty Girl, too. Maybe this one was fitting, but Berta absolutely refused to believe any of these other names were that “pretty girl’s” name. For one, some of these weren’t names, and well… the others were masculine, and judging by that last nickname, she wasn’t a guy.
Either way, the redhead had a hard time staying calm as the blonde began babbling, her oddly squeaky voice fitting so well with her messy accent and pronunciation, her tripping over words and her obnoxious giggle sounding somewhat endearing… Okay, maybe she totally wasn’t paying attention to what she was being told and she got too busy getting lost in thought, but who could blame her ?
… Right, herself.
Once she woke from this kind of weird daydreaming phase, she tried to harden her expression a little. “Okay, yeah. And the order ?” She said, maybe a little harshly. But it didn’t bother her customer, whose grin widened despite her cheeks perhaps darkened a tad.
Quad venti blonde breve latte, extra hot, no foam, four pumps vanilla, three pumps cinnamon dolce, two white mocha, stirred, light whip, extra cinnamon topping.
This was ridiculous. Once again, the girl’s order had to be ridiculous. Maybe that was one time too much, and that “one time too much” the barista didn’t bother waiting for the girl to give her a name. No, she was choosing it herself. It was obvious to see on the blonde’s face that she wasn’t exactly expecting that, but did she really have a choice ? No.
“Look at it once you’re outside,” Berta muttered, groaning quietly when the girl smiled again and poked her cheek before making her way out, whistling pretty loud - and getting looks from other customers, although admittedly there really weren’t that many. It still grabbed some of them’s attention, enough for them to notice the barista quickly yet quietly following after her, letting her coworkers take care of the place if even just for a few minutes.
Keeping sight of the blonde wasn’t the hardest task. She hadn’t gone far, just walked a few metres away and was now reading the name written on her cup with some sort of surprise.
Endearing, the shorter girl would tell you.
Casually enough, she made a few steps until she was close enough to the girl, before pausing and more or less working up the courage to talk. She wasn’t all that good at communication all the time, but she still tried. “So, Foxy,” she called out, causing the other to jump and turn around. Her gaze was always as captivating, perhaps due to how obviously emotional it was - reading her mind was impossible, but her state of mind was all too obvious at all times. What really got Berta though, it surely was how evident the blush on her face was. Striking, such a contrast with her blue eyes and her blond curls, that pink really fit well. Made her look softer, and maybe a little less insufferable.
Her lips moved incoherently for a few seconds before she frowned, and pointed at the cup. “Y'ain’t wrote that, it’s ‘Vixen’ on it,” she protested, getting the other to raise an eyebrow. Maybe it’d been easy to guess making that flirty girl flustered wasn’t hard at all, but it still gave her some satisfaction. Oh, and also it was cute.
“I know what I wrote and I know vixens are foxes.” That sure wasn’t the answer that girl had hoped for. Berta could see her bite down on her lip as she thought of a reply.
“… Yea, but– still. Why’s that anyways, I 'on’t look like a fox !”
“Reminded me of one.”
Could the girl make it any more obvious that she clearly wasn’t used to being teased ? Or, flirted with, depending on how she took it. Either way, just one more endearing, sweet thing about that cute fellow, and it kind of made the former more confident.
This time though, maybe she actually put some thought into what she was about to say. Nothing crazy, but she’d always worked on that “speaking before thinking” basis, pretty much ; having to really work out some sort of appropriate response, or even question for the situation. Because in the end, that barista had ended up following her outside, there must’ve been a reason. Yes, that’d be her question.
“So… What’s ya doin’ here ? Ain’t ya workin’ ?” She uttered, her accent somewhat worsened. Oh, maybe because she was chewing on the… the cup. Was that a stress reliever ? Whatever.
“I wanna get your name.”
“What, I gave–”
“Your real name, so I don’t sob to my friends about a cute girl named Anthony,” Berta insisted, almost mockingly - although that was all light-hearted. The poor girl seemed to whimper after “cute girl”. Haha, she found her cute, she could die happy was what the whimper meant.
“Well… 'f ya want my name, then I bet you should invite me for a sleepover some time !” The blonde tried. It probably came off as silly, even if Berta just thought it adorable.
“A… sleepover ?”
“Yea, like… the best kind'a date.” She continued, managing to sound genuine about it. “It ain’t too fast if I’ been comin’ to your shop for two months. We can totally have a sleepover.”
“But I could be a murderer an’ kill you in your sleep.”
“Bitch, wha’s the issue here ? I’d die a happy death.” She retorted - maybe a little too quickly. A chance she hadn’t pulled out the whole “oh, crush me with your arms” or any sort of stupid stuff she looked like she would totally say. And the redhead clearly wasn’t wrong about that, that kind of answer had definitely come out of that girl’s mouth a few times… Maybe she shouldn’t be thinking about it.
“So, name ?”
She seemed embarrassed to say it. “Anya.”
“That’s a real pretty name.”
“Yea, shut ya’ trap, spare me the compliments.” Anya groaned, her gaze wandering elsewhere. “ ’S just a name.”
“Sure, Anya,” Berta answered with a chuckle, shaking her head. “So you said a sleepover ?”
“Yea.”
“Then gi'mme your phone number or something.”
“Ya wrote yours on the cup.”
“… Ah, I did that.”
“Yea.”
It was her time to be embarrassed again, it seemed. Had she really forgotten so easily ? That was a shame for sure, but Anya wouldn’t be too bothered by it, she could tell.
“Anyway, I’m… I’m gonna need to go back to work. Maybe come more often. Oh, and you don’t have to run away everytime, you can drink it at the shop,” the shorter girl offered. But she was met with a head shake, and that bright, quite shit-eating grin the blonde always wore. Back to normal, huh ? Couldn’t stay away too long.
“Nah, I’m a busy gal ! Gotta get goin’ as well. I’ll catch ya later.”
“Oh, well…” Was that sadness ? Yes, maybe she’d have liked to talk to her some time, at the shop. But if she was busy, then… “Talk to you soon.”
Anya waved, blew her a kiss and then… ran away. And Berta watched her, frankly smitten. What a goddamn rowdy… cutie.
|Text| to: she alt deleted my ovaries
> hey> pretty girl here
|Text| to: pretty girl
> oh hey.> how do you spell yr name ?
|Text| to: she alt deleted my ovaries
> howevs u want idc> yknow if i didnt have no decency id have said such bs> like huge
|Text| to: pretty girl
> like ?
|Text| to: she alt deleted my ovaries
> crush me w ur arms
|Text| to: pretty girl
> oh my god> shut up> or i will
|Text| to: she alt deleted my ovaries
> pls do> >:3c
|Text| to: pretty girl
> you’re impossible
|Text | to: she alt deleted my ovaries
> ur used to it now suck it up> im even funnier thru text> i send memes> n shit> hey?> also> cats have three lips
|Text| to: pretty girl
> hey you know wht maybe u should sleep !
|Text| to: she alt deleted my ovaries and my heart
> lol maybe!!!!> wish me gn
|Text| to: pretty girl
> goodnight. dont dream of people crushing you
|Text| to: she alt deleted my ovaries and my heart
> hdskjdghsdh> ill update u on that
Tag list:@well-the-kids-do-too@racetrackcook@i-got-personality@imjusttheoutgoingsidekick@thatfancyclam@we-dont-sell-papes@ben-cook-can-cook@not-your-cigar@nverkept@jackhasdreams@racescoronas@suddenly-im-respecsable@purplelittlepup@hopeful-broadwaybaby@broadwayandbookblog@crazymecjc@maiawakening@awwwwwwdang@albertdasillva@daveys-pet-snake@be-more-chill-evan-hansen
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I’m screaming this was so good omg
ok!! i was inspired by this post from the wonderful rsl provider, @jimmywilsonschutzpah, to learn rsl's guitar bit in Chelsea Walls, "Softly and Tenderly". i learnt it by ear this very morning so please excuse any inaccuracies, my ear only gets me so far !! would've sung it, but I have to jump between registers and I hate my high voice sooooo the instrumental will have to do,, I'll never have a voice as angelic as his, sigh...
i hope any rsl fans enjoy !!! :)
#dead poets society#house md#james wilson#robert sean leonard#neil perry#music !!!#guitar#woaaaah#meeks plays !!#(bet ya didnt see that tag comin huh?)
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