While chucking Gabriel off their person seems like both an easy response and a convenient one, Kennedy is immediately happy to settle on just draping their arms over his shins, one hand higher up his leg than the other, thumb idling circles under his knee.

   “I feel like this is an invitation-slash-request to either make waffles or have waffles made for you. Would I be wrong to assume that?”

         ❛   hey, i didn’t say it.   ❜ 

pleased that he didn’t have his feet swatted back to the ground, and even more pleased that he got his oh-so-subtle message across, ryker grins wolfishly. there’s nothing he enjoys more than breakfast food and cute people, so this is a potential two for one.

         ❛   how much do waffled presses cost, anyway?   ❜ 

allison doesn’t recognize the song, but a small smile curves across her face at the sound of ryker’s singing voice. she has to admit he has a nice voice even though she won’t admit it to him. 

        ❛  how long have you been sitting on this one? it’s very original.  ❜

and, despite what her tone might imply, she means it. no one’s serenaded her, and she doubts anyone else would pick this song. making it perfect for him.

       ❛  heard that song a lot growing up. and it’s your name. so, yeah, super original.  ❜

the sarcasm in his tone is dripping with self deprecation. he lights a cigarette, takes a quick drag, then pulls it out of his mouth so he can lean back in a dramatic display of rock-in-roll stage presence. if he can embarrass her, he’s done his job.

       ❛  oh, i know-ww the world is kiiii-llin’ you! oh! aaa-lison!  ❜

    “man, fuck you.”  ‘raccoon-eyed, sleep deprived, shaky rehab look’ he’ll accept, but fucking sharing circles. please      the last fucking place you’re going to find him is in some clinic. he can manage this his goddamn self. ( can he, though? he’s really starting to wonder. ) this asshole looks like he could use some time at a sharing circle himself. 

    with irritated reluctance he shakes out a cigarette from the crumpled pack and holds it out to him, pinched between his fingers. “congratulations. this is my one good deed today.” 

ryker takes the offered cigarette with a victorious smile.

        ❛   see? giving nature.  ❜ 

he doesn’t push it more than that. too smug will likely end with him smoking alone, or not smoking at all, if this guy wanted to get particularly cruel before making an exit. with as much time as he spends annoying the people around him, ryker will always prefer company to solitude. pulling his lighter out of his jacket pocket, he works on giving the cheap bit of metal and plastic a number of impatient clicks, all without the satisfaction of a flame.

       ❛   so. was i wrong?  ❜ 

WRITE ❝NOTHING IS SET IN STONE❞ ON MY GRAVE AS BOTH A WITTY JOKE – AND A SUBTLE WARNING THAT I’LL BE BACK. // EST. 2014. MULTI EVERYTHING. ART CRED.

Now THERE’S a feeling – an INSTINCT – that just won’t DIE. The surge of giddy adrenaline that pumps through his veins at the sheer MENTION of cops; a reaction he picked up from his days as a VAGABOND when those who rode the rails like him were the unwanted dregs of society, chased out of town at the end of a baton.

It doesn’t MATTER that he doesn’t know this guy – it doesn’t MATTER that he doesn’t know any context at all.

He falls into step just behind him, grinning already at the prospect of the chase.  ❝ SHIT, dude, what’d they nail you for?? ❞

       ❛   whole block got ratted out! wrong place, wrong time for you, buddy!   ❜   

ryker yells over his shoulder as he runs, the wild grin making it hard to believe that he’s actually afraid of getting arrested. if it’s not the street racing the cops got called for, it was the illegal gambling. or the drugs. honestly, take your pick out of a hat of illegal activities, and the places ryker earns an income could have been pegged for any of them. 

the blare of sirens starts to focus in on one particular shrill, turning down the block just ahead of them. a flash of lights and a menacing blip-blip says i see you running, asshole, and ryker sounds an alarm. he grabs the man’s arm and veers them down an alleyway, tight between two buildings, a chorus oh holy fuck, man, holy fuck! dislodged from his chest as he runs.

im hot

H ard to love O bnoxious T errible