Did I, Uh–did I Say Something Wrong? I’m Getting A Vibe Like I Just Made A Really Bad First Impression.

Me, forgetting my abnormal knowledge of medical terminology: my favourite thing about POTS is that Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome is literally... exactly what it sounds like?! It's so cool!

A non-spoonie: what what what-the who now syndrome?

Nathalie was partial to three things: her dog, her job, and food. All three she made a point to devote time to and that was how she found herself sitting in Mama Rosa’s. She practically leapt at every opportunity to eat there, in spite of all the havoc she knew the greasy food was wreaking on her heart. Still, the flavor made it worth it, even when her dining partner might as well have been nonexistent. Her mind was elsewhere, that much was clear. To the point where Nat found herself surprised that the other even realized she had been speaking. She turned to glance at the waitress in question, eyes momentarily appraising —nice, but not enough of a distraction— before returning to Paris. “I was saying that I meant to add something to my order and asked if you wanted me to get you anything,” she repeated, cocking a brow. “Though perhaps you’d prefer something that’s not on the menu. I’m sure I can set you two up… unless there was something else on your mind?”

well, someone knew – and someone clearly wanted to see what happened on camera between her and ezra and paris hadn’t once ever been scared that something could leak but the only way that it could was if they got through ezra first, right? unless ezra himself wanted to leak it – but paris didn’t think that he was that sort of guy. and then river texted her, so of course her mind was in overdrive and she was a little nervous something shitty could go down. it wasn’t like people hadn’t seen her fucking on camera before, for years in her youth she was making shitty porn movies under an alias, but this was different. this was something that was supposed to be private and she hoped that it’d remain that way. lost in her thoughts at mama rosa’s with her company she brought along for lunch, paris was zoned out and only came to when she heard them calling her name. “sorry, i didn’t get any of that. i was checking out the hot waitress behind the counter.” she said quickly, a lie, but who cared. “so what did you say?”

text ⦿ anthony

Anthony: Ugh you know how much I loathe that damn nickname. And yet...

Anthony: Maybe? I've got some places I can check out.

Anthony: Is this for the block party? Someone posted a flyer for it on the gallery's door. Didn't really know what to think of it.

Anthony: You're going? AND bringing decorations? Wow. Who would have thought.

[ nat:] Not my fault it’s accurate

[ nat:] Wonderful! If you could, that would really save me heaps of time I don’t have

[ nat:] Fuck off, it's called being neighbourly

[ nat:] Are you going? Once I get my hands on some decent decorations, the block is going to be unrecognizable

Task #03 – N A T H A L I E  H A L E ’ S  H O M E  

Why do I cry for the feelings, I’ll never show and the unspoken words , I’m afraid to say.

m-a-d–h-a-t-t-e-r (via m-a-d–h-a-t-t-e-r)

“oh no not again” -me waking up

hope — my writing

On her list of chores for her day off, Nathalie hadn’t expected opening the door to a police officer to be one of them. Her arms were splattered with flour from her latest attempt at baking, and she could only imagine the state of her hair. Still, the brunette did her best to appear presentable, smoothing down her shirt as listened. “I’m sorry to inconvenience you with something stupid like this, officer,” she sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “You see, Mrs. Duncan and I have an... interesting relationship. She keeps cats, who often end up in my garden.” Nat nodded to the sad plot of dirt, only a single tomato vine crawling from the soil. She never claimed to have a green thumb. “So, my dog, Fionn, takes it as his job to bark at them through the window. Apparently, his barking spikes their ‘anxiety’.” As if knowing that they were talking about him, the whippet came to stand at her side. “I have to give it to her, though, I didn’t think she was ballsy enough to call the police over it.”

josephine stepped out of her police marked vehicle, not that she didn’t have enough work piled on, she was now taking calls from dispatch whilst on break, huffing and mumbling some grumpy nonsense. she started to roll up the path towards a house, she’d been dispatched to check out a noise complaint at this address, yet there was no blaring music or loud yelling. the brunette composed herself, knocked on the door whilst clearing her throat. “ hey, so what’s going on? there was a noise complaint at this address.  — were you being too loud? or is your neighbor a bit hysterical? since i’ve gotten seven calls in the last 15 minutes from them to this address. ”

pvrisrutherford‌:

“oh, yeah no. i think i’m good. probably should have gotten fried pickles though, i hear they’re good. but i can’t imagine how a fried pickle is actually good.” paris replied and snorted softly. though as nathalie mentioned setting her up, paris rolled her eyes and laughed. “i’ll just give her a big tip and leave my number on the receipt.” she replied and laughed softly. she grabbed her soda that had been brought to her moments ago and took a long sip before knitting her brows in nathalie’s direction. “why do you think i’ve got something else on my mind?”

Nathalie nearly gagged at the idea. “Fried pickles… there are some things about America I don’t think I’ll ever get used to. Honestly, I’d take haggis over that bollocks,” she noted around a chuckle. “Classy. Just hope she doesn’t spill anything on it.” Hearing Paris’s question, she gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Don’t get me wrong, she’s cute—“ another glance over her shoulder confirmed as much, “But you do realize that a large part of my job is figuring out when people are lying, yes? Sure she’s a distraction, she’s just not enough of one to have you staring off into space for five minutes.” Nat sipped from her coffee easily, waiting for Paris to protest her assessment.