Text ⦿ Anthony

pvrisrutherford‌:

paris let out a laugh and scrunched her nose hearing the woman mention haggis. “oh god. no!” she exclaimed and clutched at her chest. “the last time i had haggis i was with my mates and it was on a dare. probably the worst two seconds of my life.” she said and nearly gagged thinking about the awful food again. paris rolled her eyes again and sat quietly for a moment as nat assessed her, wasn’t that what therapists were for? “oh c’mon. if i needed dr. nathalie i would have said so?” she asked, raising a brow. “i don’t wanna talk about it, it’s stupid and childish and i’ll get over it i’m sure. so stop assessing me and try one of these!” she said as her order was brought out and paris ordered herself some boneless wings. “they’re to die for.” another distraction, right?

“I’ve met one person who genuinely likes the stuff. I don’t think I’ve spoken to them since,” Nathalie smirked. Overreactions over inconsequential things happened to be her strong point. Finished with her inspection, she raised her hands in mock surrender. ”Okay, okay, I won’t prod.” And she wouldn’t. She had more than enough thoughts and musings that she’d rather not bring to light. Taking one of the offered wings, she eyeballed it for a moment, “Are you going to hate me if I tell you I’ve never had one?” Nat took a tentative bite, expression falling blank. “These… are incredible. Help yourself to all of my fries.”

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 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​

a look™

The Cliffs of Moher, County Clare, Ireland

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. ”

“Right, so summer flowers,” Nathalie chewed on the end of her pen, brow furrowed in light concentration. Her coffee sat largely untouched, condensation creeping down the glass as the ice melted. A true testament to her focus. “Sunflowers, lavender, peonies, dahlias... am I missing anything?” Green eyes flicked up to her partner. Catie was her planning guru, so to speak, and the brunette nearly heaved a sigh of relief when she agreed to meet at Coffee With Love. She could source the decorations and had already set that process in motion, but she needed someone to give her cues on what was and wasn’t considered appropriate for a block party. Vibrant colors and celebrations were not her strong point, if her own ensemble of deep navies and black leather was any indication. “Do you know how to make leis? I was thinking ropes of flower garland could be nice stretched across the street.” @caaatiemttws​

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)