Me, Forgetting My Abnormal Knowledge Of Medical Terminology: My Favourite Thing About POTS Is That Postural

text ⦿ anthony

Anthony: Still intact, huh? Darn and I was starting to have hope.

Anthony: Designer's eye...jesus Nat. Have you actually ever been to a block party? It's nothing like the stuffy events I host at the gallery. No need to get all fancy and posh on the neighborhood. We're going to relax, listen to music, get to know the neighbors.

Anthony: There's going go be tank tops, flips flops, water balloons...CHILDREN.

Anthony: Lets see how charming you are when a ten year old sprays you with a water gun.

[ nat:] Ha. Ha.

[ nat:] So what if I haven’t, it’s a party isn’t it? Parties need decorations and creativity, attention to detail — it'll be fine

[ nat:] I... will be making a note to see about banning water weaponry. Or, at the very least, setting up a battleground far, far away from the flower crowns. The petals are so delicate.

[ nat:] I know, I'll just sic them on you. The little monster with the most hits to Mr. Tony wins a sack of candy. You might want to swap out those flip-flops for a pair of runners

The Cliffs of Moher, County Clare, Ireland

“oh no not again” -me waking up

hope — my writing

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.

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)

text ⦿ anthony

[ nat:] Morning, pretty boy. I'm running late (don't start) so I'll make this quick

[ nat:] Do you know where I might procure decorations? You're more of the event-hosting type

[ nat:] And none of that papier-mâché bollocks, I don't want it to look like kindergarteners were in charge

Did I, uh–did I say something wrong? I’m getting a vibe like I just made a really bad first impression.

Nathalie slid a couple bucks across the bar, “Scotch on the rocks, thank you.” As of late, Klub Kiss had become her go-to for days when work was overly tedious. The busy days were exhausting, of course, but somehow not nearly as taxing as one surgery accompanied by stacks of paperwork. She discovered the club by accident, having driven past the establishment one too many times on her way home from the hospital.  She could submerse herself in the atmosphere and lighten her guard just a little. Somehow, the pulsing lights and throbbing base was soothing after a long day of sterile white lights and antiseptics. Taking her drink, and sliding the bartender a few more dollars for their quick work, Nathalie found her way to a booth off to the side. She swirled the ice around her glass, now taking the time to properly scan the club. It didn’t long before her gaze landed on a familiar face. Lennie. She had gumption, a confident freedom of spirit that was so unlike her own. It was admirable. The brunette had to bite back a grin at the first words out of her mouth. It didn’t hurt that Lennie seemed to make an extra effort with her. “I’m flattered. Although, unless you consider a wife’s tears of joy after I flawlessly corrected her husband’s aortic dissection, unfortunately, I didn’t have the pleasure. There’s always tomorrow,” she said around a smirk. There was something distinctly refreshing about being able to speak so bluntly. Not everyone was partial to her sarcastic tendencies. “How are you, I hope one of us had a more productive day?” She noticed the drink in her hand, quirking a brow, “Let me guess, another unwarranted arsehole.”

“yeah, i’ll like, super get you that drink right now,” lennie said, her voice exuding a certain sex appeal to it as she passed the man (completely not part of her VIP party, mind you) and felt her eyes threatening to roll back into her head and never return. lennie adored her job at klub kiss, but hated that most of the clientele where selfish, alcohol mongering idiots who only thought of one thing as they looked at her. she didn’t even have these issues whenever she was living in the bigger cities of the united states, but perhaps that was just the small town ‘charm’ everyone talked about. as she was ignoring the request for free drinks from the succubus of a man, her eyes fell on nathalie. she couldn’t stop herself from smirking at the image of her favorite klub kiss patron, one she never was directly supposed to cater to but always found herself gravitating towards regardless of the bustle of the night. regardless, lennie made her way to the bar, placing the order for the man’s unwarranted drink request, but instead of delivering it to him, she was making her way to nat. “hey, saw you come in,” she muttered, feeling a certain level of butterflies entering her body. she fucking hated that but it was a sacrificial feeling she was willing to make. “tell me all about your day. did you like, make anyone cry?” @nathxle​