#ft. arlo & jasper

[introvrt]

── he knows he's being ignored, of course. cardboard box tugged open with the flaps dangling at the sides, the book clerk's hands delving into the books inside and moving them around. fantasy, romance, poetry; and arlo can't help himself. he's already leaned halfway over the counter anyway, so he might as well... snatch one. and he does, one of the poetry collections, at about the same time as jasper deciding to give him an answer. "see, look at you, small town hero," arlo hums in praise with a waggle of his eyebrows, though the edge of frustration in the other's voice does nothing to dissuade him. "late, shmate. you're here, aren'tcha? and i won't tell if you won't." and, a-wink. he stays there, looming over the desk, only now thumbing through the pages of the book in his hands, eyes ever-so-often dancing up to jasper's face and then back down again, skimming (or, pretending to skim) the words. "or... i guess i won't tell. won't report it to your manager, or anything." his shoulders rise in a half-shrug, book lowered enough to allow him to fully peer over the top at the man behind the desk. "if you grab a coffee with me on your lunch break."

he had lived his entire life being misunderstood, being laughed at, being painted as the strange kid that nobody wanted to speak to. it was one of the reasons why, at twenty-five, jasper was so flustered, coming out in hives and cold sweats whenever he needed to ask the bill at a restaurant or book a doctor's appointment. his fingers moved to tangle at the nape of his neck, tugging harshly at the trapped strands, an attempt at calming himself down. "tuna hunting, yes." replied the bookseller, matter-of-factly, as he shifted his backpack beneath the counter, tugging open the cardboard folds of a box that housed the morning arrival of new paperbacks. "i didn't want to leave it out there in the cold, all scared with nowhere to go. so now i'm here, i'm late, my hands smell of tuna..." jasper's nose scrunched. his head twitched to the side. a pile of fantasy novels were piled up beside the register, followed by some fresh romance releases, a handful of poetry collections. for a moment he was silent, seemingly working and ignoring arlo's words, until the other was practically looming over the titles, his shadow eclipsing the gilded edges. finally, he caved. "the cat came down and licked my hand and let me stroke it for a few minutes before going off to wherever it needed to be. and now i'm here. late." and being distracted by someone who, no doubt, only wanted to rile him up further.

[ladyflava]

#MorningCoffeeWithFlava #Coffee #Coffee #IndieMusic #InternetRadio #LasVegas #Seattle #National #Global SUPPORTING INDIE MUSIC SINCE 2009 #LadyFlava of #FlavasLoungeRadio The musical flava that you will hear on today's show: https://www.blogtalkradio.com/flavaslounge/2021/07/17/morning-coffee-with-flava-vol40#.YPMbBkionDo.facebook 1) G Fields- Bungee 2) Alli Starr- Situationship 3) Chris Jasper- The Way You Love Me 4) J Treece- Don' What You Do ft Lucid (Remix) 5) King James Brown- Backyard Boogie 6) Patawane- I Got What You Need 7) Lexy Frances- To The Rose 8) Cleveland Jones- Be Kind 9) John Carey-Hwy 111 10) Christos Tambouratzis- Do It 11) Nik West- My Relationship 12) Lozinky- Night Life 13) Yewande- Woman 14) Verbal Oasis- Walk Woman Walk 15) Nina Bradlin- Beauty Queen 16) Arlo Parks- Eugene 17) Mothers Favorite Child- Who Are You ft Vaughn Willis 18) Nichelle Colvin- What We Gone Do 19) Black Stax- Ghosts (Cover Me) 20) Christopher Fields- Type of Love https://www.instagram.com/p/CRcIoxYLZvP/?utm_medium=tumblr

[ladyflava]

#FlavasGrooveListeningParty #FlavasGroove #ListeningParty #IndieMusic #LadyFlava #SupportingIndieMusic #AllGenres ... Email: flavaslounge@gmail.com ... The Musical Flava you will hear on this show, came from some very Talented Indie Artists from Around the Globe: https://www.blogtalkradio.com/flavaslounge/2021/05/21/flavas-groove-listening-party-vol41 1) Butch Harrison- Butch's Blues 2) Mothers Favorite Child- Reflection of A Disco Ball ft Tanya Ti`et 3) Nuwamba- Heaven 4) Twin Spirit- Caught Up 5) Sam Hankins- Soft Touch 6) Brian Christopher- Hold On 7) Chris Jasper- The One 8) Heston- Dreamin' 9) Stephen Jerome Ferguston0 Debbie's Jam 10) Arlo Parks- Hope https://www.instagram.com/p/CPHoqh-H3Y1/?utm_medium=tumblr

[introvrt]

── "i am. i am about to say it sounds made up." you'd think the frantic, flustered look on the other man's face would be enough to convince arlo to let up a bit, to cut him some slack, but in fact it does just the opposite. this is a new look, one he hasn't seen on the shop clerk before: sticky, sweaty, heavy breathing. he's heard the word-tripping before now, has heard his fair share of apologies (whether they be directed at him, a supervisor, or some other unruly customer), but this is definitely the most un-tethered that he's seen this guy since he'd started visiting the shop. and he's gotta say, it's not a bad look. "right... right. so, long story short, you're late because you were out tuna hunting?" he's holding sarcasm in his tone, though really, in all honesty, there isn't any. he can absolutely picture this guy, hunched over a can of tuna, arms outstretched to try and lure a cat down from its perch in a tree. he just seems like that type, the running-late-to-work-because-i-was-saving-a-cat type. then the story's cut short, a backpack slung down off a shoulder, words cut off in favor of the mousy-haired clerk dismissing him, and now he's dipping down towards the desk, elbows spread, chin propped in the palm of one hand. "no, hey, come on. gotta at least tell me if you got 'em down or not. you've got me in suspense." his eyebrows raise, lips pulling a little at the corners.

there were the recognised customers, and there was the tall and dark-haired stranger that had seemingly appeared from nowhere. jasper had noticed his apparent cluelessness, the way his eyes wiped from one side of the shelf to the other without registering a single letter, how there always seemed to be a problem, or question, or anecdote at the counter. often jasper would hum and ring up the stack of books, on autopilot—that day, his underarms were sticky and he fought to catch his breath. "well, i saw a cat up a tree—and i know you're going to say that sounds made up, and i know it does..." the more he spoke, the more he tripped over the events he had recited on the way to the store. "i didn't want to spook it or scare it further down, so i had to take a detour to buy some tuna and coax it. it's not all that easy, you know, finding a tin of tuna in the middle of nowhere." it sounded as though his words belonged within the pages of a dr seuss book. maybe it would have been easier to string an excuse from those nonsensical rhymes. unwinding the strap of his backpack from his shoulder, jasper shook his head of silver-streaked strands and pressed his lips together. "why does it matter? you won't believe me anyway."

[introvrt]

── it's not like arlo is employee of the month, or anything. his boss (the owner of the bar just down the street) would, in fact, make it known that he's the opposite; an employee hanging onto his employment by the skin of his teeth. so when he gets to the bookstore and finds the shop empty, no clerk behind the counter... he just assumes the guy's having a bad morning. 'the guy' being the entire reason that he's been visiting the store in the first place — brown hair, pushed nose, yeah, that's the one. he's not that big on books, really, the only ones on his shelves at home being comic books. but the guy's cute, okay? got this nervous energy about him that arlo has come to like, the last three times he's visited the shop... this week. he'd been just about to leave when the chime above the door rang, and in came the guy, doubled over and apologizing. "uh huh. right. likely story," he says in a tone that's scolding but obviously not really scolding, his eyebrows arched. "go ahead, tell me the cat story. i'll see how believable i think it is."

muse : jasper finch ── open starter (m only for shipping, f/nb for platonic ! )

jasper was always on time—to the minute—until the one day that he wasn’t. he was only three minutes over his clock-in time when the boy sped into the bookstore, soles squeaking against the floor, hair a mess of brown and grey flyaways. doubling over, hands on his thighs, he heaved a few heavy breaths before apologising at a thousand miles per hour. “i’m so sorry i’m late. you wouldn’t believe it. there was this cat…”