WARNING: THE AUTHOR OF THIS BOOK IS MENTALLY INSANE

Gizoogle

OKAY OKAY SO NICOLE (WhatIWasAfraidToSay ) FOUND THIS TRANSLATOR THAT PUTS EVERYTHING IN GANGSTA SLANG

IM LIKE THE WHITEST WHITE PERSON TO EVER WHITE BUT I THINK IM IN LOVE

She dared me to do it so here it is~ the gansta version of my coffee shop Nico x reader au lol.

Yo crazy-ass name is (Y/N), n' you incredibly bored.

Yo ass sighed, leanin against tha counta of tha counter n' shit. Businizz was slow todizzle. It make me wanna hollar playa! Dat shiznit was round 5:00, bout thirty minutes before closing. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Steve, tha baller, had left at 3:00, which was tha same ol' dirty time yo' shift fuckin started. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da only hustlas you'd had all dizzle was tha two buggin but goodhearted middle schoolaz dat hung up n' drank coffee, poppin' off ta you excitedly bout they dizzle n' yours. They was phat kids, a funky-ass pimp named Chris n' a hoe named Valerie, whoz ass looked up ta you since you was a ballin' up in high school.

Da drizzle drizzled lightly outside up in tha def fall air as you stood up in tha deserted coffeeshop. Yo ass tapped yo' fingers lightly against tha counter, listenin ta "Da Scientist" by Coldplay dronin dopely outta tha speakers. Lookin around, you decided ta go ahead n' close up. Da pimp had left already n' tha hoe was waitin fo' her mutha ta pick her up. If no one else was comin in, you could just bounce back ta tha doggy den early.

"Yo, Val, I be closin up. Yo ass gots a ride?" you asked, absently playin wit tha lil' small-ass gauges up in yo' ears as you strutted over ta tha front door of tha shop. Dat shiznit was located on tha main street of yo' lil' small-ass town, wit a cold-ass lil cozy, artistic atmosphere n' a thugged-out delicious fruity-ass malt liquor smell. Da younger hoe looked up from her sketchbook.

"Can I stay fo' all dem mo' minutes, biatch? Momma aint gettin off work until later n' shit. I be bout ta just strutt ta tha library afta you close up," she answered. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Skanky kid.

"Sure," you answered. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Just as you was flippin tha sign from "Open" ta "Closed", you was startled ta peep a muthafucka sprintin down tha sidewalk. In such a lil' small-ass town, da ruffneck definitely stood out; you had never peeped his ass before up in yo' game yo. Dude wore a gangbangin' faded, dark jacket, black jeans, n' a funky-ass black skull-motif t-shirt yo. His black afro was long n' unkempt, n' his olive skin looked sickly pale yo. Dude looked like da thug was searchin fo' something.

Suddenly, da perved-out muthafucka spotted you starin at his ass (embarrassingly enough, a lil open-mouthed) n' his obsidian eyes made contact wit yo' (e/c) ones. Da pimp gained a funky-ass burst of speed, n' pretty much crashed all up in tha door n' tha fuck into yo' chest. Yo ass was a lil talla than him, n' he flinched back all up in tha contact. Yo ass felt yo' cheeks heatin up a lil; dis muthafucka looked like da thug was definitely yo' type. Maybe da thug was tha fuck into muthafuckas as well...?

Those wild, almost sunken eyes searched tha room, finally landin on Valerie. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch had looked up from her sketchbook, big-ass eyes wide. Yo ass was dragged outta yo' hormone-fueled reverie by Valeriez voice.

"I-I know you, nahmean biiiatch?" she exclaimed, lookin down at her sketchbook n' back all up in tha pimp again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. "I saw you up in a thugged-out dream! I drew you, nahmean biiiatch?" Sheezy enough, on tha page dat biiiiatch was hustlin on was a sketch of a funky-ass pimp dat looked exactly like tha one standin up in front of you, biatch. If yo' grill wasn't open up in shock before, it certainly was now, nahmeean?

Da pimp breathed deeply. "Then Will was right," he muttered. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! "Come on, you've gotta go wit me," da perved-out muthafucka holla'd, grabbin tha hood of tha girlz chronic hoodie.

"Yo dawwwwg! Let go of her!" you holla'd, bustin lyrics up n' struttin toward his muthafuckin ass. This muthafucka wasn't goin anywhere wit yo' playa yo, but it ain't no stoppin cause I be still poppin'. Da pimp didn't look too horny.

"Look, you messin wit thangs you don't give a fuck anythang about," da perved-out muthafucka holla'd. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! "If our phat asses don't leave soon, then-"

CRASH!

Valerie screamed n' you took cover as tha big-ass window ta tha sidewalk shattered tha fuck into a mazillion pieces fo' realz. A black shape like a thugged-out dawg yo, but much larger, had leaped all up in tha window n' tha fuck into tha cafe. Glowin red eyes swept over tha room, landin on tha pimp n' Valerie.

Da pimp stood his wild lil' freakadelic ground n' drew a sword, a ominous black blade dat you didn't wanna contend with. Da creature pounced at him, n' they struggled, tha pimp tryin not ta let tha monstrous jaws near his neck. Just when it looked like da thug would lose, dat schmoooove muthafucka heard a cold-ass lil crack. Da monsterz attention was taken off of his ass n' onto you, biatch. Yo ass threw another mug up n' caught it, then threw it all up in tha monsta again, nailin it up in tha head.

Seein his chance, tha pimp sliced his sword all up in tha thangz neck, severin its head n' turnin it ta golden dust coatin tha ruinz of tha coffeeshop yo. Dude stood up n' brushed his dirty ass off, glancin at you, biatch.

"So, you can peep all up in tha Mist?" he asked. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Yo ass stared at his ass blankly. "That thang was a hellhound. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Yo ass shouldn't done been able ta peep dat shit."

"Well, I did," you holla'd, movin slightly up in front of Valerie. "Now would you please leave?" Da boyz brow furrowed.

"I need ta brang her back ta camp," Dude holla'd, makin eye contact wit Valerie. "If you don't come wit me, dem monstas will chase you ta tha endz of tha earth. If you do, I can brang you ta a place where you safe."

"What bout (Y/N), biatch? Didn't you say his schmoooove ass could peep all up in tha Mist or whatever too?" Valerie asked. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da boyz gaze darted from her ta you then back ta her, n' ta tha pilez of golden dust coverin tha wreckage of tha shop.

"Dude can't come wit us. Dat punk mortal," he explained. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! His deep eyes kicked it wit yours fo' one dunkadelic second, then broke contact. "But I be bout ta peep what tha fuck I can do."

"Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck even is yo slick ass?" you axed as he gingerly wrapped his thugged-out arm round Valeriez waist-suttin' neither of dem looked like they enjoyed.

"I be Nico di Angelo, n' I know we'll be seein mo' of each other," da perved-out muthafucka holla'd wit a smirk as tha air round his ass seemed ta thicken. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. One moment da thug was there, then tha next da thug was gone-vanished tha fuck into shadows. Yo ass was left ridin' solo wit a gangbangin' fucked up window n' a gangbangin' fucked up shop.

Yo crazy-ass name is (Y/N), n' you be thinkin you up in love.

FUNKY-ASS PIMP NAMED CHRIS N' A HOE NAMED VALERIE

DA PERVED-OUT MUTHAFUCKA SPOTTED YOU STARIN' AT HIS ASS (true tho)

DUDE WORE A GANGBANGIN' FADED, DARK JACKET

BUSTIN' LYRICS UP AND STRUTTIN' TOWARD HIS MUTHAFUCKIN' ASS

DAT PUNK MORTAL

NICOLE BLESS YOU THIS IS BEAUTIFUL.