#i will hopefully disappear till thursday night

[kindred-spirit-93]

had a thought once. i need to stop having those lol

its late and im pretty sure it was even later when the idea jumped from a helicopter and crashed into the living room of my mind but here it is

scapegoat & sacrificial lamb. friends lovers both neither all of the above none of the above idk idc but its a dynamic i need to see more of pls and ty

goodnight

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Forever & Ever & Ever & Ever---But Not Right Now **

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warning: Heavy, Heavy, Heavy angst, 18 + Mature Content, NSFW, Mild Smut, TW: Possible Toxic Love

Words: 5.4k

Summary: You and Lewis have had an on and off relationship for the last 3 years. You’re never together for too long before one or both of you initiate “taking a break”. However, the breaks never last long and you always end up right back in each other’s arms.

Note: Inspired by a song by FLETCHER; “Forever”. This has quite a bit of angst, but I hope you enjoy. I tried my best with British slang (I think I failed LOL; I apologize) 

Note II: Any Italic Text after the first/opening line is conversation from a memory. Hopefully that’s clear. Also, I’m trying a different way to incorporate text messages. Lemme know what you think. Also don’t come for me if you hate reader...I kinda do too.

 Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!

 ***NOT Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

 ~~~~~~~~~

-Lewis-

 This is—you know who this is, Y/N. Sorry I couldn’t pick up, I promise it’s not personal, leave a message and I’ll call you back. Text me if you want a reply faster. Kisses.

 Beeeeeep.

 “Hey poppet—sorry, old habits. Y/N, it’s Lew. Um—I—I thought you’d pick up. Guess I was barmy for that. uh—I’m back in town for a spot. I know Mart said he was having some sort of thing tomorrow night and I wanted to know if you’re going. Give me a call—or text. Whatev.”

 He sighed then ended the call and tossed his cell phone onto the table in front of him. Part of him felt as if she shouldn’t have called but the other half that made him call felt disappointed. He didn’t know why he’d expected you to pick up. In the last month, you’d probably picked up forty percent of his calls then called him back ten percent, however you always texted him back. The contents of those texts weren’t exactly stress free most of the time.

 Thinking back to the last text exchange from a few weeks ago, he gripped his head then raked his fingers through his freshly loosened hair that still held the crimp from the braids. Groaning, he dropped back onto the lounger couch and stared at the abstract chandelier above him. as if he needed to refresh his memory, he grabbed his phone then found the messages.

 Thursday, July, 13

MSG Poppet: Sorry didn’t see this till today. (10:00pm)

MSG: Funny, I saw you’d read it when I sent it. 3 days ago. (10:05pm)

MSG Poppet: 🙄 Really? I must have glanced it and forgot to reply. I was really busy. (10:30pm)

 Friday, July, 14

MSG Poppet: Are you mad now? (12:15am)

MSG: Poppet: You are, aren’t you? (12:25am)

MSG: Why would I be mad Y/N? (12:27am)

MSG Poppet: Because whenever we talk you always get mad at me. It sucks. (12:30am)

MSG: Seriously? I wonder why I’m always getting mad at you. Like really Y/N, do you think it doesn’t suck for me too? You think I want to be mad? (12:31am)

MSG:  😩 I’m sorry. (12:45am)

MSG Poppet: No. Don’t apologize, I know it’s my fault. I know I’m horrible for what I’m doing. 😔 (12:50am)

MSG: Then stop. God, I don’t want to do the beating each other up bit. (12:51am)

MSG Poppet: Me neither. It just always happens when we talk. (12:53am)

MSG: Poppet, I want things to be different between us. (12:59am)

MSG Poppet: I gotta go. Talk later. 💋 (1:00am)

 Re-reading it only made him see the hopelessness of your relationship. Anytime he began to get serious with wanting to address the problems you disappeared. When he disappeared, you reemerged with texts and calls only for when he reciprocated for you to fall off the face of the Earth again. When he tried to bring up your relationship you always found a way to change the subject and inevitably the subject was dropped until the next time. With you for the last three years everything had been one roller coaster.

 Thinking back to the start of your relationship, he could officially call it a whirlwind romance. The night of his victory party was epic. The DJ was playing banger after banger, the drinks were strong, and the women beautiful. He’d only planned to stop by for an hour or two because he was exhausted after everything he had to do after the win. However, when he was sitting with his friends just enjoying the good vibes you caught his eye from across the room making a killing at a pool table with each impossible trick shot.

 From the minute he saw you sitting at the edge of the pool table with your fishnet stocking clad legs crossed and the bright red stick in your hand that matched your bright red lips, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He watched you egg everyone on making them place higher and higher bets on the odds of you making a successful shot sequence that you called out then proceed to hit every single shot. From afar, he couldn’t tell one thing about you but from afar he was sure he’d fallen in love with you right then and there.

 From then, one or two hours turned to three or four, then five, six, until he was watching the sunrise with you on the hotel penthouse suite’s balcony, both of you wearing absolutely nothing. It was a night to never forget, a night where he laughed more than he’d ever laughed, flirted heavier than ever and felt the tightest connection he’d ever felt. A connection that led to soulful kisses and the most night of sex he’d ever experienced. When the sun began to rise, he didn’t want his time with you to end. You felt the same and that one night led to an impromptu two-week vacation for two in Mallorca where the only activities done were eating, swimming, and fucking.

 From that two-week vacation, things between you took off literally and figuratively, where he went you came along, when he was racing you were in the stands in the family section. In between work, you were there to make sure he made time for play, and it was through him you’d experienced may of your firsts. He was having the time of his life and each day he fell deeper and harder for you. The number of deep conversations you had over the first year blew his mind, he felt you knew him better than most and treasured you like the queen you were.

 He'd been so deep that he didn’t see the flip side coming. At the sixteen months mark of your relationship, you’d started to act differently. His calls went unanswered, and his call back took longer and longer, his texts went hours without a reply and then the way you were with him felt as if you were trying to put distance between you. When the words came out your mouth “I think we should take a break”, he actually felt his world stop. He was right about to get in his car for a race. He’d called you because he wanted to hear your voice before. It had been a big mistake. Not only did he lost that race by coming in third, but he’d also crashed which led to him placing third.

 As for the reason for “the break”, “We’ve been together so much that I’ve pushed my life and goals to the side. We need to focus on ourselves.” Did it break him? Hell yes it did. He was completely blindsided by it and what made it worse was you dropping off the face of the Earth for the next three months. If he wanted to find anything out related to you, he had to see it on social media. You were having the time of your life and none of it looked goal oriented, unless your goals were all about living it up. You were at parties, events, modeling gigs, afterparties and even on the arm of a few other celebrities for a night or two. That was what hurt him the most. You’d begun to act like a new person, someone he didn’t recognize. That made him want to turn back into who he was before you. To dull his pain, he did revert. He woke up beside a different woman nearly every morning, sometimes two or three. He couldn’t remember a name to save his life and all their faces blended together after a while. However, nothing really helped.

 When he’d bumped into you a few months after the breakup at the same restaurant, he could feel something was there between you. The pull to you was as strong as it ever was, not a damn thing had changed for him. He still wanted you—still loved you. Throughout dinner he tried to keep his eyes off of you but failed. Every time he looked over to your table, he found your eyes on him and that little bit of contact broke open the gates that he’d built around his heart the last several months. You smiled and he knew that you knew you had him right where you wanted him.

 That night, you showed up to his hotel room and like the idiot he was he invited you in to talk but there were no words spoken—not with your mouths. They say make-up sex was the most incredible thing ever. He could attest to that but that hadn’t turned out to be make-up sex. It was I miss you; I love you; I need you sex for him but for you though he wanted it to be the same, and though it felt like it was the same, he feared it was something else.

 “I think I could love you forever and ever and ever and ever.” Those were the words you said to him when he’d told you he loved you. His heart skipped a beat when you’d said them, then it plummeted when you said, “As long as forever and ever and ever and ever don’t start right now.” He didn’t know what the fuck that meant, but he did. It all boiled down to not wanting to be with him. Not wanting him.

 “You know I think you’re perfect. It’s timing. You’re the type I’d want to spend my whole life with, but you won’t be the one I’ll spend tomorrow tonight with.”

 Your words felt like a professional punch to the gut. He had to actually bend over to catch his breath from that one. It cut deeper than he could admit. That was when the argument began.

 “What the fuck kind of shit is that to say to me after you just spent tonight with me?!”

 “We’re just in two different places.”

 He was stunned. It was like speaking to some embodiment of you, an embodiment who hadn’t experienced the last year and a half.

 “So, what the fuck was the last eighteen months about? What place were we both in then? Different places too?”

 You’d sighed like this was stressing you out, but he didn’t care. He needed an answer.

 “Answer me!”

 “We were but—I just—I can’t—uugh. I want to be young, Lewis.”

 “How am I stopping you from being young? I know I’m a few years older than you, but I’ve never tried to shame you for it.”

 “Uuuugh, I wanna be young and party every night, I want to act dumb with my friends, meet different people, live free and carelessly without thinking of anyone else and worrying if what I am doing will hurt or if I have to say sorry for it. I want to have experiences and know what it’s like to be shameless with my body. You are the third man I’ve slept with. You’ve slept with tens of women and feel no shame over it.”  You were shouting now as if by raising your voice the shit you were saying would make sense. It didn’t—not really.

 “So, you came home with me tonight to fuck me and what disappear again and fuck someone else tomorrow and the night after that and on and on? What the fuck do you really want, Y/N? What!”

 The silence in the suite suddenly became deafening, a drastic change from the shouting match from seconds before. He watched two tears roll down your cheeks and his gut twisted. He hated fighting with you, hated what was happening and half of him wanted to comfort you but the other half couldn’t bring himself to cross the space between you. It was much vaster than it appeared to be it was a chasm that couldn’t be crossed with a few strides.

 “How am I supposed to feel, Y/N? Have you thought about that?”

 “Of course! I just—I don’t think we should--.”

 Unspoken words hung in the air between you.

 “We should what? Don’t bite your tongue now!”

 “Be together—right now,” you finished.

 He stood there staring at you. There was so much turmoil bubbling within him, so many conflicting emotions, so many unspoken words, unspoken hurts. You must have seen it through his eyes because you took a step to him but without even thinking he stepped back. The action made you stop in your tracks and another set of tears rolled down your cheeks. Unable to help himself, a tear steaked his cheek.

 “Lewis--,” you began taking more steps to him. This time you didn’t stop, you crossed to him and cupped his jaw then swiped his tear with your thumb.

 “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

 “You’re not.”

 Your eyes met and the interesting part for him was he saw the same turmoil in your eyes, saw pain. It only made him angrier though. You lifted your other hand and cupped the other side of his face, and you stood there not speaking though he wished you’d say something—anything to wipe away the last ten minutes. He silently plead with you to do just that but the longer you remained silent the more pieces his heart shattered into. Someone had to walk away first or else he would say or do something else and made a further fool of himself.

 Lifting his hands, he gripped your wrists then pulled your hands away from his face.

 “Lewis—don’t—please--.”

 He sniffled then cleared his throat. “You should go—go be young, go party every night, go be dumb with your friends, go meet different people, go live free and carelessly without thinking of anyone else or worrying if what you’re doing will hurt them or if you have to say sorry for it, go have your experiences and know what it’s like to be shameless with your body--,” he had to pause them because the emotion in him clogged his throat stopping the next words.

 Clearing his throat, he held your eyes and fought against you fighting to put your hands back on his face. He knew if you touched him again, he would brush this under the rug. He was too close to playing your fool again. Clenching his jaw, he forged ahead, “Go fuck as many men as you want to and don’t feel not an ounce of shame. Go live your life Y/N, go live it—without me.”

 You scrunched your face and a river of tears streamed down your cheeks.

 “No, I don’t want to lose you though,” you feebly replied.

 Ignoring you he continued, “I wish you every happiness and I hope you find exactly what you’re looking for.”

 He pushed your hands down once and for all and only held your eyes for a few more seconds before he turned away from you and walked off.

 He couldn’t fight the emotions that the memories brought on. If only that had been the last time, you’d seen each other or been entangled in each other’s arms. What followed was a year of back and forth. You would claim you missed him too much and wanted to try again and you’d try but five or six months later you both took turns on who was the one to end things. The last time eight months ago was you. he didn’t know why he just hadn’t moved on already. It wasn’t the sex, he was sure of it, and it wasn’t him being out of options, he had plenty and it wasn’t because he was a masochist, he preferred the Dom roll.

 Deep down he knew the reason. He saw a future with you. his family saw a future with you. He knew your deepest secrets, you knew his, he knew the reasons behind everything you did and knew that you past played a greater role in your present than you let anyone believe. He saw you and you saw him and no matter what he was sure you were tied to his life for a greater purpose. Maybe you were meant to teach him love and real pain, maybe you were his test in life, maybe you were sent to really make him inspect himself and his life to make real changes. His father had always said before every man settles down for the rest of their lives, they’ll all have an enlightened moment to show you real love and he’d had that moment with you years ago. The only doubt he had was that he was uncertain that if love hurt if it was in fact real love or infatuation.

The next night he walked into Mart’s party a few hours late and put on the front of being the life of the party. An hour or so into it he’d faked it till he made it. He’d had several drinks and his worries were miles away. All he wanted to do tonight was drink, dance and have a good time, he’d earned it. He didn’t know if you were there but by the time he was huddled in a dark corner with a gorgeous ebony goddess with long legs and hypnotizing eyes he’d forgotten you—for the most part. He didn’t know how long he’d sat there and talked to her, or how long he’d avoided other women at the party who’d been showing him attention. What he did know was that he felt you before he saw you.

 Fuck, he thought before his eyes moved off of the beauty he was sitting beside and slid across the room as if a south magnet attracted to its north. When he found you, your eyes were already glued to him. God, you were beautiful, he thought to himself before he tried to look away. However, he failed that attempt. It was like you were commanding him and you willed his eyes only to be on you. A slow smile spread your lips and the only reason he was able to look away was the buxom beauty beside him who placed her hand on his jaw and turned his head back to her.

 “I prefer your attention here, lover.”

 Her smile was seductive and mysterious all at once and that only intrigued him further. That was where his attention remained until he went to the bar an hour later for refills on their drinks. As he waited, he scrolled through his phone catching up on any work-related missed messages or emails.

 “Ignoring me now?”

 The hairs on his spine went up at the sound of your voice. When he looked beside him there you stood in your low-cut dress that complimented your shape and complexion so fucking well. He hated that his instinct was to look over your body, hated the fact that the look over your body was not a quick glance, hated that the look over your body elicited a reaction. His cock pulsed painfully and hardened.

 His eyes scurried to your face and the mischievous smirk on your lips said you knew the effect you had on him. Goddamn you, he thought, turning his face back to his phone.

 “Aw, come on don’t be that way.”

 “What can I do for you, Y/N?”

 “Y/N? I was Poppet last night.”

 He clenched his jaw at the reminder of his slip up on his voicemail.

 “You actually listened to my voicemail, wow. Do you want a cookie?”

 He looked at you, your smirk hadn’t faded. Placing your hand on your hip he fought the urge to look at the fullness he knew was there.

 “Nah, cookies are for little girls. Big girls prefer better rewards.”

 You gave his body a once over as you sank your teeth into your plum painted bottom lip.

 “Bigger—rewards,” you added, eyes glued to the front of his pants.

 He was sure you could see your effect. Knowing it would be worse to try and hide it he stayed where he was but cut his eyes.

 “Boo, you’re no fun,” you said with a whine in your voice. “Don’t tell me little miss long legs took all of that and left none for me.”

 He could hear the saltiness in your voice. He smirked then turned to you. He had the upper hand right now even though you knew that his body wanted you.

 “So what if she has? What business of yours is that?”

 You stared at him bit didn’t speak.

 “Think she wants to take more than fun from me,” he said lurching his hips forward for emphasis making sure you got his gist.

 It was then your smirk slipped, and he knew you were grinding your teeth.

 “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you—poppet.”

 You flared your nostrils, rolled your eyes then turned to the bar placing yourself shoulder to shoulder with him.

 “Jealous, that’s laughable. I doubt I have anything to be jealous about. Yes, she’s gorgeous but beauty doesn’t tend to hold you for long.”

 Your voice was dripping with cockiness. Shaking his head, he scoffed. “As if you would know what holds me for long.”

 “I think I do—me.”

 Your eyes met again, and the fire, electricity and pull were still there. Fuck he was stupid, he thought. Shaking his head, he looked away. It was then the bartender slid him the two drinks he’d ordered but he also placed four shot glasses in front of you. They smelled familiar.

 “See you around, Y/N.”

 Before he walked off, you slide two his way then raised your eyebrows. “For old time’s sake?”

 You waited but you didn’t look in the least bit worried he’d turn you down. This confidence was one of the many things he loved about you. In the beginning, it was endearing and sexy, now it was sexy but rubbed so wrong. Sighing, he took up one of the glasses then held it up ready to knock it back.

 “No toast?”

 “What do you want to toast to?”

 You smirked and took up your own shot glass.

 “To tonight.”

 He quirked his brow confused by your meaning but shook his head and knocked it back. A second after he put the glass onto the bartop he grabbed the other and waited for you. Your smirk was wider, and he watched you cross to him pressing your body onto his. You went to his ear.

 “And you getting to bury that bone inside of me in that dark corner behind the bar.”

 Your lips grazed the tattoo on his neck before you pulled back to slowly down the drink never taking your eyes off of his. He hesitated for a few moments then drank it down. Once finished, he leaned to you and felt victory when your eyes dipped to his lips and angled your head back ready for his lips. Passing them, he went to your ear.

 “Oh, I’ll bury this bone inside of someone in a dark corner tonight, but I doubt it’ll be you who gets the pleasure, poppet.”

 A once sweet and loving nickname between the two of you was now used as a weapon and he knew you knew the difference of its usage every time he did it. With that, he moved from you with drinks in hand and walked off. It took a few moments, but your reply came just as he expected.

 “I look forward to making you eat those words.”

 Giving himself credit, he scoffed he may want you, but he wouldn’t give in. Two hours later it was apparent he’d given himself too much credit because he was currently behind the same bar, in the dark corner you’d alluded to, balls deep inside of you with your legs wrapped around his waist and your back pressed against the wall. The loud bass of the music had the wall shaking throwing off his thrusts just a little but thankfully drowning out your screams, moans, and squeals. He didn’t want this in the tabloid rags the next day. He didn’t need the entire world knowing how stupid he was. He felt it.

“Yes, yes, fuck Lewis! Right there, right fucking there!”

 He groaned then pistoned his hips into you enhancing his speed. With each thrust forward, you grabbed onto him while your head banged into the wall. It didn’t seem to hurt because upon every collision you smiled. Perhaps you were the masochist and perhaps he liked that a little bit.

 “Fuck you’re gonna make me cum all over this big dick,” you whined as you began rocking your body like a wave and using him as your anchor.

 ”Fuck—lemme feel it. Lemme feel you.”

 You both moaned and panted. He was chasing the pleasure that only seemed right with you, you hit different. When you bit his earlobe and dug your nails into the back of his neck, he knew just how close he was and by how tightly you clenched around him as if you were preventing him from disappearing, he knew you were too.

 “Fuck me papi, fuck me so good I never forget who I belong to.”

 He didn’t know if it was the use of his pet name, a name he hadn’t heard from your lips in over eight months or if it was your words.

 “Fuck me so good I never forget who I belong to.”

 Pulling back, he looked into your eyes and even in this dark corner he could make them out perfectly. His fast movements slowed and changed. In the blink of an eye, he’d moved from fucking you senseless to making love to you in this dark corner of this club. In a matter of seconds, he’d gone from a drunken desperate need for release to the chains on his heart rattling threatening to break apart. Your jaw dropped, and your hand cupped his jaw. Fuck he thought, his weakness.

 “Only you papi, only you,” you whined.

 What the fuck, he thought. Were you so drunk off your ass that you didn’t know what you were saying or was he fucking you so right that this was the pleasure talking?

 His brain struggled to catch up to his body and the need to cum washed over him like a tidal wave.

 “Fuck, your pussy feels so good.”

 “It’s your pussy,” you instantly screeched.

 That was all he needed to hear before he was cumming with the force of a heard of angry bulls. He came so hard that he almost pummeled you through the wall. You screamed in his ear and held him close as your body shook. Neither of you moved for several long minutes. Neither of you spoke. It was like in this moment in time everything was stilled—paused and the past hadn’t happened, and the future was still this optimistic beautiful dream that was within reach. A happily ever after was still possible. He was reluctant to let that go. Even when fatigue attacked his body and limbs, he still clung to you, even when he could feel his seed seeping out of you and down his still hard dick, and even when he felt the shake of your body subside but another tremble begin. This was the trembling of crying.

 It felt like the time was persistently nudging him fighting against his will to keep it stopped. It was a battle between his three-year desire for nothing but you and time who wanted his eyes to open to reality—or perhaps his destruction. Time was a relentless fuck and like a barreling train his surroundings came back. The loud music attacked his ears and the beating against the wall became impossible to ignore. Another thing that was impossible to ignore, was the wetness on his shoulder, the shoulder your head was draped over. The protector in him knew what was happening and he wanted to make everything right, wanted to help you. When he started to pull back, you held him there.

 “Stop, wait. Don’t look at me.”

 Your voice was clouded. It was the last confirmation he needed that you were crying.

 “Poppet--.”

 “Please don’t call me that. It’ll only make this harder for me,” you whispered against the shell of his ear.

 Harder for you? You held him tighter, though he expected you to push him away. He waited for you to continue but you didn’t automatically. It felt like hours before you spoke again.

 “Fuck your timing. Oh god, why.”

 Your body shook again, and he heard your sobs over the music. Burying your face into his neck, you muffled the sound but the force of which your body shook rocked him to his core. Trying his hardest to remain strong, he held you not daring to move one muscle.

 “Po—Y/N,” he began.”

 “I wish—I wish so fucking bad--. If I could love you then I would love you. You don’t even fucking—understand.”

 You sniffled as you spoke through your tears then buried your face into his neck again. You breathed him in at the same time he breathed you in. The strength he’d been clinging to so desperately was gone. A tear slipped from his eye, and he clenched his jaw hoping to prevent any more.

 “Y/N--,” he began but you cut him off.

 “I can’t—I--.” You groaned then took a breath.

 “I’m letting go—and even though it hurts—fuck it hurts so fucking much papi.”

 The usage of his pet name again didn’t miss him and that was what ruined him.

 “Poppet.”

 “Close your eyes. Please.”

 Clenching his jaw, he listened. Slowly everything drowned out, the throng of people rubbing up against each other around him, the music, the scent of the different drinks being made that was mixed with the scent of weed, and everything in between. All that was left was you and him.

 “If I could love you and dear god I want to, I really, really want to love you right. But right now—I’m letting you go. I have to. Fuck—I have to.”

 You sounded like you were trying to convince yourself. He was barely hanging on at this point.

 “You have to let me go. You have to let me let you go. Can you do it?”

 He shook his head and held you tighter at the same time you held him tighter.

 “I can’t—but I have to, or you’ll hate me more.”

 “I love you.”

 “You deserve more.”

 With that, you released him and unwrapped your legs from around his waist. He pressed you into the wall more refusing to do what he knew he had to do. It had come to the point where holding on was more painful.

 “You can’t love me for the both of us.”

 Those were the words that broke through. It dawned on him now that he had been doing just that this whole time. It wasn’t about if you loved him or not. You weren’t there. Reluctantly, he stepped back allowing himself to slide from the warmth of your body. Though your feet were back on the floor, neither of you moved. His arms were still wrapped around you as yours cocooned him. Neither of you met the other’s eyes, both avoiding things and each other. You pressed your forehead into his chest right where his heart was currently shattering.

 “Forever & Ever & Ever & Ever,” you said. He didn’t know how he heard you above the music and loud chatter, but he heard you loud and clear.

 “But not right now,” he replied.

 You released a soft sigh then hit your forehead on his chest three times then walked around and away from him.

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***I don’t have a Lewis Hamilton Tag List. Just tagging randomly. If you’re interested in him lemme know via Asks if you want a tag in future fics.***

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TagList:

@chaneajoyyy @caramara3​ @valkryienymph @babyflowa07 @est1887  @halfrican-heat​

[firewoodfigs]

it’s Saturday (finally)! here’s my shoddy attempt at consistency and journaling, and a quick summary of my disorganised thoughts 💃 no, I’m lying. I read through it and it’s not all that quick because my tendency for verbosity knows no bounds

This week was a lot more hectic than the past two. I spent Monday to Wednesday doing research and compiling them together into a knowhow, but Thursday and Friday were the worst because I suddenly got swamped with emails. Both days I had to work till / beyond midnight, and I still have about 200 more pages of corporate documents to proofread... I wanna scream just thinking about it LOL. I’m grateful to have a job during an economic climate like this, but sometimes it feels like everything is addled with so much uncertainty that I just can’t help but wonder if I’m doing the right thing with my life :’) 

I haven’t been using the computer as much, because a significant portion of my 24 hours is dedicated to using it, albeit for other less interesting purposes (also because my eyes are dying at the end of the day). And as a result, the rate at which I reply to messages and stuff have been slowing exponentially (I’m so, so sorry about this!!) but I’ll get to them soon <3 Just an update that your friendly chaotic online persona is still alive LMAO 

My creativity feels incredibly stifled this week. I haven’t been able to write anything without second-guessing myself, or without being overcome by lethargy or restlessness or self-doubt, or a regrettable mixture of all 3. :’) Hopefully the weekend will be a good time to recharge. I’m not planning to touch any work this weekend since it’s not as urgent as the other matters were, but this might mean that I have to work till midnight again on Monday and Tuesday LOL. But it’s fine. Priorities, ykwim!! (Weekends are a luxury and I’m not going to waste it like this LOL) 

Date nights on Thursdays are so much better than date nights on Fridays, although it does tend to make us both feel like the weekend is already here 😆 I mean, the fact that it’s so much less crowded is already a big plus to me. I know people call me out all the time for being a paranoid hen and whatnot, but I just freak out when people come too close to me in public in a blatant disregard of the concept of social distancing (one of my biggest pet peeves is also when people remove their masks to sneeze or cough in the open, which happens a lot here. I mean, you might as well not wear a mask, or you might as well just stay... at... home...). Also a lot of restaurants mark up prices on Friday nights and we got to escape that >:) 

I’m very thankful I got to squeeze in some time to spend with my bf and a couple of friends despite the sheer busyness of everyone’s week. The transition feels so surreal, and I know it’s been a lot harsher on some of my other friends too, than it has been for me. I’m glad that we at least have each other to vent to and struggle with, just like we did back in law school. Easier to struggle together than alone. :’)

On a related note, some thoughts I had about love and understanding last night - I think it’s easy to find love, if we just look hard enough and put aside the premium that society places on romantic love. Love comes in so many different forms - a simple gesture like a short text, an exchange of memes, an invitation to check out a new cafe together; from so many different sources - whether intrinsic or extrinsic, whether platonic or familial. But being understood has always felt like a privilege to me. A lot of times people just tend to think that I’m too “unexpectedly” deep or emotional or sensitive or intelligent, that I have a “surprising” amount of problems for someone who always seems so bubbly, or that I’m just downright eccentric (the last one is completely valid though LMAO). But I’m just so, so grateful to have people in my life who can understand me on an emotional, psychological and intellectual level, and that I don’t have to explain or justify myself for feeling a certain way because they just get it. It’s... validating. Different, in a good way. It’s so important to me because I truthfully don’t talk about my feelings a lot, although I’m trying to now because constant suppression is just a set-up for an inevitable explosion. :’) 

I got my pay check, and!!! The first thing I did was to set up a separate savings account and deposit a decent portion of my salary there so that I won’t touch it for the rest of the month (hopefully) :’) I also got to pay off a small bit of my current outstanding debts, which is great. I'm really looking forward to the day I finally clear all my liabilities. But yes, I think my 19-year-old self would’ve been very proud of myself for not spending it recklessly hahaha. I used to have terrible, and I mean really terrible, fiscal management skills. Like, when I was in first year and second year I was tutoring a ton of people, but somehow my funds were just always depleting uncontrollably. It only dawned upon me much later that I was not conscious or cautious when it came to my spending habits (s/o to my bf and friends for explaining this to me and for teaching me how to manage my finances!!! ilyall), and that I really didn’t have a habit of saving for rainy days or for the future, in general. I watched this documentary about how people from less privileged socioeconomic backgrounds tend to fall into this trap of ‘tunnel vision’, sans wanting to splurge on everything while they can because they never had the chance to do so in the past, or because they’re afraid that they won’t be able to do so in the future once the money’s gone. Being poor is also expensive because it means you might miss out on deals e.g. if buying 2 items is $2x-y, vs buying 1 which is $x, you might be more inclined to buy just 1 instead because it’s all you can afford at the moment. It definitely struck me hard, because I think when I first got all that money I didn’t think of saving it. I just wanted to buy a ridiculous amount of stuff (and real trashy stuff, because I used to think that quantity > quality especially when it came to clothes) and ~ treat myself ~ for roughing it out in law school, but hey, there are other ways to treat oneself apart from excessive splurging :^) 

My biggest treats this week were the arrival of my books (I ordered The Queen’s Gambit and Grapes of Wrath and I might just disappear from the face of this planet lmao), getting to spend quality time with my loved ones and getting to catch the sunset on my evening strolls! I’m gonna end this long ramble with a few pics of them ✨ stay safe and take care, everyone, and have a wonderful weekend!!! *hugs* 

[mwolf0epsilon]

Sammy x Norman story? Date night?

Summary: Sammy Lawrence has a date with Susie Campbell on Saturday night, but no dating experience to speak of and a lot of self-esteem issues. Norman ends intervening after Sammy ends up a nervous wreck all week, by taking the kid out on a test date to show him there's nothing to fret about.

---

 "I don't get what the big deal is." Wally brings up during their lunch break on Monday. "The spark is there. They talk all the time. They look like an outfit already, so what's got him all wet?" Norman shrugs as he watches Sammy try to disappear into his own shirt and coat like a spooked turtle, while Jack gave him a few reassuring pats on the back and tried to coax him into eating his (by now cold) bowl of bacon soup. The blond had been in that position for at least 15 minutes.   "Ain't like it's that big a thing. Miss Campbell just invited him ta go out to them dance club things." Wally took a large bite out of his sandwich. "Them Speakeasies are full of snobby music folk, he should be thrilled ta go meet his own kind and get ta hear music that ain't by his own hand."   "Maybe the kid's a dead hoofer." Norman pointed out. "Can't really imagine Sammy Lawrence breaking lose in a clip joint."   "A real cement mixer." Wally agreed. "Poor Miss Campbell."   "Hey now, don't be so harsh." Norman snorted "There's more to a date than the hop. Like ya said, there's magic between them. Ain't no bad rag gonna mess that up."   "Uh-huh... Tell that ta him." Wally pointed back to Sammy and Jack, the latter which had given up on trying to console his friend and was now instead trying to finish his own food. The music director looked a mess. Date night nerves really didn't look good on anyone, especially not when said date was five days away from now. Hopefully he'd go back to being his ornery grouchy self in no time.

-

     By Thursday everyone had about enough of Sammy's anxious disposition. He hadn't bounced back at all and was instead so nervous with anticipation for what he claimed would be a world class disaster of a date, that even Wally was beginning to turn sour with frustration.   "I feel like how my ma was feeling when my pa got a lawsuit for vandalizing property..." The janitor bemoaned as he emptied the bin in Norman's booth.   "And what's that?" The projectionist asked as he watched the violinist slowly wrap his hands around the neck of his instrument while watching Sammy pace with a dark irritated look. Half the band were becoming agitated from their conductor's agitation.   "Let's just say my pa got a few knocks on the noggin for being a real fink." Wally sighed "Look at me... I'm becomin' the new Sammy Lawrence! Ta new studio grouch!"   "That's sayin' somethin' alright..."   "If no one does anything, someone's bound ta pounce on him and maul him! I would. Jack ain't even bothering any more!" Wally turned to stare at Norman with a despairing look. "He broke Jack with anxiety!"   "Yeah... It's certainly becomin' a real problem. Someone gots to help the boy somehow..." Norman agreed that it was becoming an issue. If Sammy didn't stop fretting he wouldn't make it till Saturday.   "Glad ya offered, I knew I could trust ya!" Wally grinned as he picked up the trash bag and his broom and dustpan.   "Wait, what?"   "Good luck Norman!" Wally rushed off to toss the bags, unaware of his keyring popping loose and ending up in the floor of the projectionist's booth. Norman merely sighed, picked up the keys, twirled them with his index finger and wondered what he'd just gotten himself into.

-

  "Lock up your office and get presentable." He didn't even bother to knock, smiling slightly as he watched Sammy practically jump out of his skin.   "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!" Sammy turned to face him, that familiar angry look on his face and hand clutching his chest.   "Come on Lawrence, I'm takin' yous somewhere nice."   ".... What?" The music director furrowed his brow in confusion.   "Ya heard me, now come on. Ain't got all night." He grabbed the younger man by the arm and hurriedly helped him get his coat on and his keys in his pocket, before practically dragging him along and out of the studio.   "What the fuck are you doing?!"   "Kidnappin' you and sellin' you on the black market. What do ya think Sammy?" Norman rolled his good eye. "Ya been grindin' on everyone's gears so bad that I wouldn't be surprised if ya ended up in a Chicago overcoat by Saturday!"   "A Chicago-- I haven't been so bad that people would want to kill me, Polk!" The blond actually sounded like himself. That was good, he needed to loosen up some if this plan were to work.   "Even Wally wants ta knock your lights out. Trust me, yous been a real jelly bean this week." That shut him up, a pout on his face. Sadly this was Sammy Lawrence so the silent walk didn't stay silent for long.   "What are you doing then, dragging me off like this? I've got places to be."   "No ya don't. Last I checked your sister's stayin' at my brother's to have one of 'em sleepovers with my little niece and nephew." Norman smirked.   "Do you always put that big nose of yours into everyone's business?" Sammy glared.   "You're one to talk with a beak like that." He shrugged off the insult, ignoring the way the blond put a hand to his own nose self-consciously. "I'm doin' ya, and everyone else, a favour by takin' ya out for dinner."   "....... W-what?"   "Nothin' fancy. Just this really cute diner I frequent once a week when I feel like treatin' myself. They got some good food."   "Norman that's... I can't. We cannot go out for dinner!"   "And why not?"   "For one, you're married! I'm not some home wrecker... And uh, I'm not... I'm not one of those..." The projectionist paused to stare at the music director. "You know... I'm not..."   "If ya so much as say a slur I'll be takin' ya to the hospital instead."   "I'm not gay! There! Happy?!"   "Takin' a guy out ain't gotta be gay, you damn pill. I'm tryin' ta help ya out with your actual date!"   "How?!"   "For one, sortin' out them nerves!" Norman crossed his arms and stared the blond down. "What's got your knickers all bunched up? You like Miss Campbell don't ya?"   "Of course I do!"   "Then what's got ya so scared ta commit?"   "Have you met me?! There's only so much I can do or say before she realizes she could do better!" What started out as an angry remark slowly became the most self deprecating thing Norman had ever heard Sammy say about himself. "I may be able to work a pretty tune, but I can't exactly pretty up my own attitude..."   "Who said anythin' bout prettyin' it up? You can't mask trash Lawrence."   "Hey!"   "But ya can recycle and improve what's salvageable..." He continued. "If ya feel like you ain't the best person because you don't like your own attitude, then try ta change it for the better. Yous is a talented hard workin' kid. You can definitely make yourself less of a twit."   "...You mean that?"   "Yeah, I don't go lyin' ta people. Now come on, let's work out them datin' issues over dinner. I am kinda hungry and it'll help get some practice in."   ".... I guess I could eat."

-

     Sammy gets home close to midnight. He spent an entire evening with Norman slowly working out the issue with his nerves. Between idle work conversation, discussions of interests, and then a few attempts at fluid flirting (which started of as one hell of a derailed train until he could slowly rework it into a slightly functioning locomotive), things kinda slotted into place. Complimenting someone he'd worked with for a while came... Surprisingly easy. And Sammy wasn't a words guy, so that was saying a lot! They'd gone for a walk around the block and then in the park afterwards, just talking and enjoying themselves, and then ended the night with Norman walking him to his apartment and then going off to his own home. Now on his own, feeling less anxious about what was to come on Saturday night, Sammy found himself with a newer issue. He might have just fallen in love with a married man.   "Oh no..." Oh no indeed...

[lostparker]

saturday nights - p.p oneshot

pairing: peter parker x reader

requested: no

summary: saturday night belonged to you and peter. what happens when he doesn’t show up for the first time?

warnings: mentions of blood and some super fluffy peter parker

words: 1.6k

A/N: after the lukewarm response for the trailer i debated posting this at all but i needed something new to post while i worked on other stuff so here you go. its unedited trash and probably really bad but then again that describes most of my writing :)

feedback as always is appreciated

⭐️ my masterlist ⭐️

Your Saturday nights were reserved. Saturday nights were for Peter Parker. They were the nights that he would swing through your window and spend the entire time with you. No distractions, no super-secret hero duties, just you and him. And they were your favourite time. Peter Parker had your Saturday nights all to himself.

It felt like it had always been this way. I mean, it technically had. Ever since you’d become friends it had sort of become your routine. Something you’d both just accepted. Something you both secretly loved more than anything else. Peter would find himself counting down the minutes till Saturday on Friday, or sometimes if he was desperate to see you, Thursday. You’d be wishing it was Saturday night again the minute Sunday morning woke you up.

He always arrived at the same time. Right before the sun would set when there was still a golden glow in the sky. Right before the air would turn cold and the city fell asleep. That’s when you’d hear the gentle thud on your fire escape followed by three soft knocks at your window. Always three. Never more, never less. You’d let him inside, leaving just enough time between the knocks and you getting to the window to make it less obvious that you’d been waiting for him.

He’d always have his school backpack with him and each time he’d earn a shake of your head when he’d arrive with a new one. You’d give him a smile, knowing exactly what happened to the last. Inside would always be a change of clothes because as you’d discovered in the beginning it was not comfortable to cuddle while wearing lycra, and some sort of snack to share.

Sometimes it would be cookies, other times popcorn. Once he even brought apples and you both burst into fits of laughter when he pulled them out because he’d looked like he was about to practice his juggling skills. But it was constant. Something in your life that you could rely on. You found yourself wishing every night was Saturday night.

Tonight was no different. Your favourite time of the week had rolled around once again and you were perched on your bed reading a book. Well not really reading, but you didn’t want Peter to know that you were just sitting around waiting for him. You wanted to at least look like you were a little busy. Although you suspected he’d be able to see through your facade. He read you a lot better than you faked reading your book.

You glanced at the clock. 8.17pm. He was a little later than he usually was but you weren’t worried. Not instantly anyway. You went back to impatiently ‘reading’ your book but as the minutes trickled on you found yourself getting more and more anxious. 9.58pm.10.47pm. 11.23pm. 12.03am. Hour by hour your precious Saturday night disappeared, and Peter didn’t show up. For the first time, Peter didn’t show up.

You checked your phone to make sure you hadn’t missed a text from him. A message telling you he was sick or he had more homework than usual and couldn’t make it. But there was nothing. No messages. Sighing in defeat and throwing you unread book onto the floor you went over and latched your window. Figuring there was no need for it to be open now that Saturday night was over. You prepped yourself for bed. Spending extra time washing your face and brushing your teeth in the hopes that maybe Peter would still show up.

He didn’t.

By the time you curled up in bed, it was past 2am and Sunday morning was creeping in quickly.  While you were exhausted, you were also sad. But the kind of sadness that you can’t really place. The kind that just sort of settles in your stomach and you’re not exactly sure why its made a home there. You knew there was probably some rational explanation for why Peter hadn’t shown up. Still, you fell asleep with this ache in your chest.

You woke up suddenly to the sound of violent pounding at your window. Your heart was racing as your hands fumbled for your bedside lamp, eyes catching sight of the clock. 3.59am. You dragged yourself from the bed, sleepily and with a shaky hand, you pulled open the blinds. Your eyes fought to adjust to the image outside the window but when they did they were met with the black eyes of everyone’s favourite friendly neighbourhood spiderman.

You didn’t waste another second and pulled open the latch, throwing open the window perhaps more violently than necessary. Peter practically fell into your arms. He hadn’t even taken the mask off but you could tell something was wrong. His breathing was laboured and he clung onto your thin t-shirt like his life depended on it.

You managed to drag him across to your unmade bed and he sunk down into it, knees buckling under him. Your hands caught the edges of his mask but before you could pull it up his hands grabbed your wrists halting your movements. You gave him a quizzical expression, his returning one unreadable under the mask.

“Please?’ You prompted gently as you removed his hands from your wrists. He just nodded softly for you to remove the mask.

You continued to pull at the mask, earning a couple winces from Peter. When it was off were met with one of his boyish lopsided smiles and his messy chocolate hair, nothing you hadn’t seen hundreds of times before. One difference was that his face was covered in bruises. His lip was split, he had a nasty black eye forming and there was dried blood caking various parts of his face. You couldn’t help the gasp that fell from your lips as you recoiled from him.

“Should have probably kept the mask on, huh?” He chuckled, groaning as it caused the cut on his lip to reopen.

“Peter… What happened?” You questioned. Taking one of his still covered hands into yours, thumb running over the smooth red and blue material as his fingers danced in your palm. He could detect fear in your voice, and anger. Not anger directed towards him. Anger directed towards whoever did that to him.

“You should see the other guys.” He chuckled, gasping slightly and grabbing his side. You couldn’t bear to look at him all battered and bruised. 

“Hang on, I’m gonna clean you up.” You breathed out. Dropping his hand and motioning towards the bathroom

“You don’t have to I can manage.” He argued. Reaching out to grab your wrist which caused you to spin slightly and almost land in his lap. You steadied yourself on his shoulders and brushed one of his curls off of his forehead.

“You’re kidding right?” You muttered shaking your head lightly and turning away out of his grasp, heading to the bathroom to grab a wet flannel and the first aid kit.

“I can manage…” he protested, attempting to stand up from the bed only for his knees to collapse under him and for him to land with a ‘humpf’ back onto the bed. “Okay maybe you’re right.”

When you came back with everything you needed you positioned yourself in between Peter’s legs, holding onto one of his shoulders as you dabbed the flannel on areas where the blood had dried into his skin. He focused on your eyes and the way you bit your lip in concentration to distract him from the stinging sensation he felt, despite how gentle you were being.  

Moments later and he looked fairly normal, except from the black eye, but there wasn’t much you could do about that. You’d found a t-shirt that would fit him so he could get out of the skintight suit that was no doubt concealing more bruising that was blooming across his body.

You got him to lay down in bed, and you were covering his body with the duvet before you prepared to go and make yourself comfortable on the couch but before you could his hand shot out and grabbed you wrist for the third time that night. He pulled you towards him, forgetting he had super strength which caused you to stumble and it took every ounce of strength you had not to land on top of him. You didn’t want to hurt him more than he already was.

“Peter!” You gasped, landing just beside him. You couldn’t help the giddy smile that spread across your face. You had to admit he looked really cute lying in your bed, and you couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat. You tried to lighten the mood and distract yourself from the pounding in your chest as you looked at him.

“You better not make a habit of showing up on Sunday morning instead of Saturday night Parker.” You whispered, quiet enough that if he hadn’t been listening he might have missed it.

“Okay, I’ll promise, on one condition.” He spoke softly, tone measured.

“What?” You mumbled, nibbling at your fingernail, your brain wondering what he could possibly want to distract you from the way you stomach tightened as you looked into his eyes.

“Cuddle me?” He whispered. You tilted your head to him, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. You hoped your cheeks hadn’t betrayed you, but you knew you were probably blushing shade of raspberry right now. Why did Peter Parker have to be so darn cute?

“Of course.” You breathed, running a hand through his tangled locks before he pulled you on top of him. He pressed his lips gently to your forehead before he mumbled against it.

“At this rate, I won’t need to worry about showing up on Sunday morning because I’ll already be here.” He pulled away to look at you and chuckled at your mock shocked expression. His eyes were sparkling cheekily and you playfully slapped him across the chest, being careful to avoid any area that might be delicate.

“Peter Benjamin Parker!”

Hopefully, you’d be spending more than just Saturday nights together.

requests are open - here

@silvxrblue

[hortascountrysidenotes]

Seasonal Shift

There is a distinctly different feel in the air and the look of the countryside.  Gone are the lush cool greens of May and early June, and we have arrived at the beige season - ripening corn and rape, early stubble fields, pin pricks of yellows and browns on tired bits of foliage.  Hot drying winds, dust in the air from the harvest and the sounds of the combine never far away.  The nights are still warm and the slightest drop of rain brings high levels of humidity and a heaviness that saps the energy and brings forth beads of sweat very quickly with the slightest exertion!

We have now moved into another chapter in the long saga of Beck Farm with the official ownership of the wood, and last night we celebrated the grand opening when some dear friends who are staying up on the coast with a gang of youngsters came over and cut the ribbon at the entrance.  We toasted the wood and wished it well and enthused over the possibilities it brings.  We have been reliably informed by the Tree Officer for our local council that no permissions are needed for felling any trees, so fire up the chainsaws and away we go in late October.  Hedge planting and new trees from the end of November and a development of the path system following a rudimentary cutting yesterday to give us a weaving walk to the top.

Speaking of councils, we have enjoyed the improvement in the state of the verges in our locality and wild flowers have actually had a chance.  Alongside the small lane running from the back of Brisley to our neighbouring parish Bilney is a lovely selection of wildflowers including the now endangered and on the red list Harebell.  I have been watching this patch every year get systematically blitzed by an idiot cutting the verges, just as they were at their peak, and therefore someway before they would have set seed.  This year it looked as thought we might see success but no...... very early yesterday morning we could hear the destruction unit at work and when I walked the dogs along, not only had they cut all the flowers but they had managed to scalp a good deal of turf and smash into a portion of the rather nice hedge.  I couldn’t bear it so as I had my phone I went through all the pain of Press 1, 2 or 3 etc to find the right department, and to my complete amazement got a real Hero!!! He told me who the contractors are, explained they have been expressly asked to leave the verges this year until a certain point and only do important roads where safety is at issue.  He assured me he would send this higher up the tree so I am encouraged.  Luckily a small patch of harebells escaped the sword so at least they will get to seed.  My faith in human nature was restored until the next time!

The garden is much the same save for the dahlias bursting with colour and the borders look great plus the new Kniphofias are flowering and having hated the ubiquitous red hot poker all my life, the new range of soft tawny browns, oranges and yellows are actually very good and make good accent plants.  Autumn raspberries in full production, apples are swelling which reminds me I still have not thinned the pears, and I have got the bolted lettuces out now so the veg patch looks better.  The wallflowers have been sown - and have already germinated.  We have a huge crop of walnuts developing - the squirrel is definitely still about and gave me a considerable shock when the other morning hearing a commotion above our bathroom window, I encountered a squirrel’s tail and foot showing in the gutter - where it then went I do not know but Miss Horta reports a bit of movement in her ceiling so I am on the warpath.  Next week I shall cut down all the summer jasmine which is near the bathroom window in case it has been creeping up through that - more to follow on this one!

Mavis is ever larger - we now have the whelping box ready and some new vet bed.  Dan has made the panels for my puppy pen so for the moment all we can do is wait.  Having managed to take the top off my thumb on Thursday I am glad we still have a bit of time as I am not very dextrous at the moment and certainly would struggle with the hot water and towels bit.

A lovely morning training with mates today - except one dummy I threw into a bramble bush again and simply cannot see so it may have to remain till the leaves come off, and the other which I put out last night with 4 others has completely disappeared - I think the foxes do move them as I have had this happen before - presumably as they smell of dog they need investigating, but I have even taken the chubby one with her super nose to look and it simply is not there.  Scout came along just to watch as the outing was more for young Elsie Grimwade and very sweet and slightly nervous Dot Broughton - both are doing so well and it is super to see Elsie’s enthusiasm and brilliance in finding everything, alongside Dot growing in confidence and happiness everytime we go out.  We shall all meet again on Thursday at a proper training evening with our Welsh Wizard friend Julian who runs great sessions.  Mavis will hopefully be able to join in again about 6 - 7 weeks after whelping.

Hedgecutting time looms yet again, second flushes of roses should begin to kick off in about two weeks time - Maigold is already flowering again, deadheading is paramount for all the herbaceous plants particularly dahlias. Sweet peas are still going thanks to a bit of rain, so worth feeding and watering one more time to prolong them.  Keep feeding containers and of course tomatoes.  Keep picking beans so they keep producing - dont let the courgettes sneak up!  Honey production today - estimate 100+ jars so not bad.

HORTA

[niall-is-my-dream]

Lost Without You - Part Three

3260 words

Friday morning was your chance to lie in. You worked at the pub on Thursday night's and, with no classes today, this was your one morning to be lazy.

Unfortunately, you were rudely awoken by Jess and Hannah knocking on your door at 10am. They both had an early 8am lecture on Fridays so would sometimes call by yours with breakfast on their way home. Plus you'd not spoken to them since you'd been out with Niall and knew they'd be desperate to hear what happened.

They knocked again louder this time and you giggled to yourself as you got out of bed and tied your hair up.

"Good morning!" Jess said rather too enthusiastically.

"Good morning to you." You smiled back.

Hannah gave you a hug before taking off her shoes and getting into your bed and opening her pastry bag.

"Go right ahead!" You laughed before excusing yourself to the loo.

When you got back Jess had joined Hannah in your bed and was tucking into her pastry too.

"Did you bring me anything?" You asked as you switched on the kettle.

"Of course! But you only get it once you've made the tea and told us the gossip." Hannah replied.

"How about I eat it while I tell you?!" 

"Go on then, but make the tea first."

With no room left in your bed thanks to the girls, you pulled up your arm chair and sat down, propping your feet up on the edge of the bed. Both girls were eyeing you up over their mugs of tea.

"Ok, so it was a date." You said trying not to grin too much.

"Told you!" Hannah said.

You launched into the story of the evening, including every detail that you could remember. Jess nearly died when you told her about meeting Conor O'Donohoe.

"You're kidding me?! You lucky bitch. Bet he smelt amazing."

"He did actually." You replied smugly.

"So, did Niall kiss you at the end of the night?" Hannah asked.

You paused for a moment, not knowing if you should share the amazing good night kiss you'd had at your door.

"Um....."

"Its ok, neither of us have any friends other than each other so we have no one to tell!" Hannah said reassuringly.

That was true, the three of you were really close and didn't tend to hang out with anyone else. You were close to Jasper and Luke who you worked with at the bar but you wouldn't share this kind of stuff with them.

"It was the best kiss I've ever had." You admitted.

Jess squealed and clapped her hands like an idiot while Hannah asked more questions. It mimicked the scene in friends when Rachel tells Phoebe and Monica about her kiss with Ross. Where the girls turn off their phones, grab the wine and ask if they need tissues.

By the time you had finished the story you found yourself desperate to see him. Telling them about the kiss, had brought all your emotions from the last few days back and your heart ached knowing you didn't know when you would see him next.

"Hey, why the sad face? You said the kiss was amazing." Hannah asked.

"It was, but I have no idea when I'll see him again. He's going away on Sunday for like three weeks."

"Ah that's shit." Jess said.

"Has he messaged you?" Hannah asked.

"Yeah, which makes it worse I think. I really like him, we got on so well even after one date."

"Just keep texting and playing it cool. Text him while he's away asking about his day and stuff. But don't come on too strong, then hopefully you can see each other when he gets back." Jess replied.

"Jeez Jess, where did that incredibly good advice come from?" Hannah said.

It wasn't that Jess was ditzy or anything but she was really bubbly and outgoing and quite often just thought with her heart and not with her head.

"Just think you shouldn't worry too much about it, he obviously likes you a lot but it's probably difficult for him being away from friends and family. Getting involved with someone is probably scary considering how much he travels."

"Where is this coming from Jess?!" You laughed.

"I have no idea." She replied. "Maybe university has made me smart!"

___________

After the girls had gone home, you did some chores before binge watching Netflix and taking a nap. You arrived at the pub at 5pm and got the place set up for a busy shift. Tonight was a karaoke night and with help from Jasper you set up the sound system you would need and placed the laptop to control it on the end of the bar.

People slowly began to fill the bar and at 7:30pm the music had started and some girls celebrating a birthday started belting out some tunes on the karaoke machine.

You did a double take when you saw him enter the pub, closely followed by his brother.

"Evening Emma, my darling girl! How are you?"

"Deo Devine, twice in one week?! I'm so lucky!" You joked.

 "That you are!" He replied.

You greeted Willie before asking them what you could get them.

 "Three pints of Guinness please?" Willie answered.

 "Three?" You questioned.

 "Yeah, Niall is out the front taking a selfie with some fans."

 "Ah ok." You replied trying to sound casual.

You were desperately trying to stop your hands from shaking and from the massive grin to slide over your face, so you started some casual chit chat with the boys. Just what they'd been up to the last couple of days, work etc.

When you turned around after getting their change from the till, Niall was there. He took his seat on the bar stool next to Willie and gave you a smile that made your knees go weak.

"Hi." He said.

"Hi."

Both of you just smiled at each other before Deo broke the silence.

"Good God you two, get a room!" He laughed.

"Shut up!" You replied smiling, before leaning over the bar and whacking his head playfully.

"Actually, I do need to talk to you about something in private." Niall said.

Oh.

"Yeah yeah." Deo pitched in.

You told him to follow you as you made your way down the corridor that you first met him in. Unlocking the office you walked in, allowing him to pass before shutting it. His hands were on your hips as soon as you turned around and he pressed your back against the closed door, a cheeky grin on his face.

 "Hi." He said, his face inches from yours.

 "Hi again." You smiled.

When he pressed his lips to yours you couldn't help but reach up for his hair like last time. The moans he had omitted when you'd tugged on it as you'd kissed each other was something that you'd been dreaming about.

His tongue teased at your lips, waiting for you to allow him in and you happily obliged. His hands were wandering around your waist, squeezing at your hips and around your bum. When you pulled away you were both left panting, foreheads resting against each other.

"Been thinking about doing that for the last two days." He whispered breathlessly.

"Me too." You whispered back.

"Are you busy tomorrow?" He asked. 

"I have work 9-5."

"Can I see you tomorrow night then or are you busy?"

"I was busy, but after a kiss like that I'll cancel my plans." You smirked.

His face matched yours as he leaned down and kissed you again.

___________

Why is it that the day always goes super slow when you have plans you're looking forward to?

You felt like you'd already done your 8 hour shift and it wasn't even noon yet. The thought that in 8 hours time you'd get to kiss him again was what was driving you to keep busy to try and make the day go faster.

After your kiss in the office or should you say kisses considering you'd gone to leave 3 times but just kept kissing each other, you had appeared back at the bar. Deo had given you a wink as if he knew what you'd been up to, but then again it was pretty obvious as your face was flushed and Niall's hair wasn't as neat.

"What is with you today?" Audrey asked. "You seem really distracted."

"I'm sorry Audrey." You said letting out a sigh.

"I'm assuming it's a young man, maybe the one who sent the flowers and the one who sat drinking his coffee for an hour while making doe eyes at you the whole time."

"What?" 

"That gorgeous young man from last week couldn't stop staring at you. Whenever you looked over he pretended he was looking at his phone. What a sweetheart."

"Was he?" You asked her surprised by what she had said.

"Yeah, was so sweet. So, is it him?"

"Yes, we went out Wednesday and I'm seeing him again tonight but the time is going so damn slow!" You laughed.

"Well its almost the lunchtime rush, so that'll make it go quickly." She replied as she patted you on the shoulder and went to clear a table.

And it did.

The Cosy Corner Coffee shop had been busy from the lunchtime rush followed by afternoon tea. When 5pm came around Margaret, who had taken over from Audrey at 2 o'clock, ushered you out the door with orders that Audrey had told her that you were not to stay a minute later than 5pm.

You headed back to your dorm room and stripped off before taking a shower and getting ready. Niall had asked if he could bring take out to yours and to maybe watch a film. So you dressed in leggings and a fitted tee, and kept your make up to the minimum again.

When you looked around your room you realised how messy it was and began tidying up, stacking up papers on your desk before making a start on the dishes, changing your bed and emptying the bin. You didn't think your room had been this tidy since you'd moved in, and you laughed at yourself thinking that Niall wouldn't give a shit how tidy the room was.

God you were nervous and excited.

At 7:05pm your phone beeped.

"Just left the Chinese, will be five minutes x"

"Ok see you soon x"

Just enough time for you to have a nervous wee and to fret about your outfit choice. Great.

You buzzed him in when he arrived and waited by the main door that lead to the rooms. This place was nothing if not secure, although Jess and Hannah had keys to the main two doors still which was a bit dodgy to be fair.

You two disappeared into your room quickly to avoid being seen since people were coming and going from each others rooms before their nights out. Niall placed the food on the counter of your kitchenette before turning around to face you. He reached out his hands to pull you by your t-shirt to him, a stupidly big smirk on his face.

"Hi." He whispered against your lips.

"Hi." You managed to whisper back.

You didn't think you'd ever get tired of kissing Niall. He was just, well you couldn't even describe how he made you feel. The way he tasted, smelt and held you made your head spin. Getting to know what he liked was one of the best things, like the hair tugging as you deepened the kiss. Pulling lightly with your teeth on his bottom lip to get him to make that sweet little whine was just perfection to you.

"Fuck, I could kiss you forever." He mumbled before kissing you again.

When he finally pulled away you couldn't help but gaze at his swollen plump lips knowing that you were the one to make him react like that. His face was flushed and his hair a mess, but he had never looked sexier. You had no idea how long these encounters with him would happen for, so you were going to enjoy them for a long as you could.

Setting yourself up in your arm chair and Niall at your desk, you both devoured the Chinese Niall had brought. With a glass of wine for you and a beer for him, you both sat facing your window that overlooked the park.

"Heard anything about the internships yet? Niall asked.

 "Not yet, no. Closing date for one of them was yesterday so I'm sure I'll hear next week if I have an interview or not. The other two jobs not a for a few weeks yet."

He nodded his head in acknowledgement before taking a sip of his beer.

"I've been looking into finding a flat though."

"Still around here?"

"Yeah, because I'll still work for Audrey and at the pub if none of the applications were good enough and until I find a more permanent position.  Depends on where the job is to as to whether I stay around here long term I suppose, and on what the pay is like. I know I'll only be able to afford a small studio flat, but I'm hoping it will have room for a dining table."

 "How long is the internship for?"

"The one in Rome is only two months and the one in Paris was 3/4 months I think."

He stayed quiet then, like he was mulling things over in his head. He didn't share his thoughts though and you carried on talking about finding a flat.

With dinner cleared away you set up your laptop ready for the film. Sitting up against the head of your bed, you curled your body towards his as you watched your Hugh Grant rom com. Niall was warm and cosy and you loved the way he wrapped his arms around you. Leaving kisses on the top of your head very so often, the gentle feeling of his fingers stroking up and down your arm.

The sound of a siren in the distance woke you up and you opened your eyes to find yourself curled up with a sleeping Niall, your laptop screen black where it had gone on to standby. You stayed still for a minute watching him sleep, his mouth slightly opened, his breathing low. The sky outside was dark, the sun having already set across the park.

"Niall." You whispered.

"Hmmm."

"Niall, we fell asleep. It's past midnight."

His eyes opened then, a cute sleepy look on his face.

"I'm going to change, do you want to stay the rest of the night?"

"Mmm yeah, might as well." He replied.

You made your way to your chest of drawers and grabbed some cotton shorts and a vest top.

"I'll just be a minute." You whispered although you weren't sure why.

Quickly using the loo and changing you were soon making your way back into your room. Niall had got up and was drinking some water from a glass when you walked in. Offering a glass to you too, you thanked him before taking a sip.

"I'll just nip to loo." He said and off he went.

When he came back a minute later you had already got back into bed, your laptop closed and sitting on your desk.

"Um is it ok if I sleep in just boxers?" He asked nervously.

You smiled as you said yes and he asked you what you found funny.

"You're so cute when you get all nervous around me."

"Shut up." He joked with you.

He pulled his t-shirt over his head then and laid it across the back of your desk chair. You knew you were staring, watching as his back muscles tensed as he stretched to reach the chair. His body was clear of any tattoos and he had hair across his chest that lead down his stomach and into a little happy trail. You held in a breath as he undid his jeans, and moved to put them with his t-shirt.

"You staring at me is making me even more nervous."

"Just enjoying the view, is that a crime?!"

 "It is when I didn't get to enjoy any view!" He said with a smirk, his nervousness disappearing.

You blushed and bit your lip, hiding your own smirk.

"Well, I didn't did I?!" He said as he crawled up the bed. "Although those stripey little pink shorts are very sexy by the way!"

"Yeah, you like them?" You said.

"Mmm I do." He replied as he leaned down to kiss you.

You hadn't intended on asking Niall to stay the night when he had turned up earlier. But after falling asleep and it being past midnight, you thought it seemed silly to make him get an uber when he was half asleep. However, neither of you were sleeping now and it didn't look like you would be for while.

Scrambling to move the covers off of you and have his chest touch yours, Niall smiled against your mouth at your eagerness. He reached down and pulled them off before moving to hover over you again. It was embarrassing really how turned on you were just by one kiss. You were desperately trying to hold back the moan but when he began kissing and nibbling at your neck right on that sweet spot you couldn't help it. Especially when you could feel a certain something hard against your thigh.

His lips travelled down your neck and found your chest, he kissed between the valley of your breasts and then brought his face up to yours. Foreheads resting against the other as he quietly whispered "I wanna make you feel so good."

And he did.

Your hands were clutching the bed sheets for dear life as his tongue moved across your clit faster at each lick. You moved your hands to grab his hair, he brought his face up from between your thighs, mumbling how much he wanted you to tug his hair. 

As you could feel your release building, it felt like you weren't even in control of your own body and you began lifting your hips. His free hand was pushing against your thigh, keeping your legs open for him as you moved to close them around his head.

And then you were there.

Wave upon wave of pleasure coarsed through you. You couldn't even speak properly as you began panting out his name. His mouth didn't stop throughout your orgasm as he kept licking and sucking at your clit until you had to pull on his hair to get him to stop.

"Fuck." You mumbled.

Moving to wipe his mouth on the back of his hand, he was smirking as he made his way back up to you.

"You ok?" He whispered as he kissed across your chest.

"No. I think I might've died."

"Well, I'm not sorry. You taste fucking amazing." He replied looking up to you with hooded eyes. 

He moved to lay beside you and pull you close to him, but you stopped him.

"Is it not my turn to taste?" You asked him as you nudged at his shoulder so he laid flat against the mattress. 

Niall looked at you as you kissed your way down his chest, slipping your fingers into the waistband of his boxers. Sliding them down you heard him sigh as his hard cock was finally being released.

You couldn't wait near what other noises he could make.x

Part Four

https://niall-is-my-dream.tumblr.com/post/187116500028/lost-without-you-part-four

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

Gosh, I never did post my con report for Ice and Fire Con, did I? Well, 3 weeks past, but hopefully not too late...

4/26, Thursday evening: Arrived in Columbus airport. While packing my big-ass suitcase for the con Wednesday night Thursday morning, I realized my white makeup had somehow disappeared, but I looked up a Party City in a Columbus suburb that had some. (Didn’t have time to go shopping on my way to the Chicago airport.) So, having figured that I could rent a car for the whole weekend for less than the price of a Lyft from the airport to the lodge, I did so, found that shop, bought that makeup, and had a lovely drive to Deer Creek State Park. Approaching the park, I found the name was very accurate, as a deer was crossing the road on the way there, in a very stupid way. “Should I jump the fence? Or go back in the road and wander everywhere? Durhurhur!” Finally he got a clue and I moved on, only for another car to zoom around me like I was standing still. That’s how you get deer through your windshield, son.

But anyway, got to Deer Creek Lodge by 9ish, got my room and registered and all, and started seeing people I’d met last year. Chloe (@liesandarbor) and Emmett (@poorquentyn) and Wendy (@wendynerdwrites) and Jim (@warsofasoiaf) and all, as well as others who I don’t think have tumblrs (or I don’t know them) but are excellent folk. And I heard there was an unofficial party that night, thrown at the cabin of the Chicago boys (who I don’t know actually), same as last year, so I headed down that way. This year the party was in support of one of their fellows who’s getting married, a Stag and Doe party, with raffle tickets and games, so it was extra fun, besides the drinking and all. :)

Picked up a raffle package that included a blue rose flower crown, and had a moment when I met Tara (@ageeksaga) and she thought I was Wendy, lol. I was like, nope, sorry, I’m the other short brunette Jewish fandom fave from tumblr who’s dating a guy named Jim. (And who sometimes wears blue rose flower crowns.) She was tired, it’s hard getting this con ready, I didn’t blame her at all, but lol. :)  Also at the party was Michael (@1000eyesandone) and his wife Adrienne, who are awesome people who I met at last year’s con, and ended up hanging around a lot with this year. Anyway, after a night of drinks and meeting people and drinking and chatting and drinking and games and drinking and winning tickets and putting them in the raffle prize choices (there were many cool prizes but only a few that I really wanted so I put most of my tickets in those), they had the raffle, about 1am I think, and I won a prize! Woo, chocolate and popcorn and bath bombs and other relaxing things. And then I was tired so walked back to the lodge with a bunch of other people, did a tiny tumblr update, and collapsed into bed.

4/27, Friday: The con officially opened today, and I got up late but made it to the second half of the ice breaker opening thing. They had the bingo where you’re supposed to find people who meet the qualifications for the bingo square (newbie to @iceandfirecon, newbie to cons in general, prefer direwolves to dragons or vice versa, have a particular fave house, are a shipper - I volunteered a lot for that one, and so on), and also that game where you have a name on your forehead and you have to guess who it is (I was Janos Slynt, joy), and I met some very neat people. Then I went down by the lake (or creek, I guess?) for my picture with a wolf! And here, some more pictures:

Logan is such a good boy. :)

Caught lunch with Wendy and Jim and Michael and Adrienne, then I went to the Q&A panel given by the Ironwood Wolves people, where they talked about the education work they do with their ambassador wolves, and what wolf behavior is like, and all that interesting stuff (watch the video, there’s a sweet sleepy wolf in it). Got some pictures of the lake, went to the History of Westeros meetup for a bit (I have a processing thing with podcasts so I can’t listen to them, but Ashaya and Aziz are the most excellent people), and soon it was time for the @asoiafuniversity meetup panel with me and Emmett.

Alas, we were up against Quiplash in the big conference room, and I don’t think the schedule was that clear unfortunately, so we didn’t have many people showing. (Unlike last year where we got a pretty good crowd!) But for those who did come, we explained what we do, and discussed some meta topics, and it was really nice. Then I caught the end of Quiplash, which is kind of a Cards Against Humanity -type online party game where you write the answers and the audience votes... well, it’s fun, and I got to be in the last answer panel, and even had an answer some people liked. :)

Went over to the vendor room and saw so many gorgeous things, ASOIAF art and statuettes and cloaks and such, but the only thing I bought was butterfly fairy wing earrings. (Which I think takes my number of butterfly earrings up to... 10 maybe? I have a lot.) Then as it was starting to get dark I went back to my room and got ready for Shabbos (had the room key situation arranged with the hotel staff, since my Jim wasn’t at the con), and then... it was time for IaFcon’s first musical!

Inspired by the awesome performance of Tara and Brian last year in D&D’s “You’re Welcome”, this year the crew put on WESTEROS, a tribute/parody of Hamilton. And oh my gosh it was sooo good. You should watch it, honest. (@draganchitsa, I spent half the time thinking of you.) Of course the costumes and casting were excellent, and there were some truly fantastic lines, all telling the KL story from the start of AGOT to the Battle of the Blackwater... Including one last song for the shippers among us, heehee, oh gosh I was covering my face and blushing the whole time. :) :) :)

Then dinner with Wendy and Jim and Emmett, then back to the con room for karaoke. :D  As it was Shabbos I didn’t perform myself (didn’t want to deal with not using the mic and stuff), but I sang along with everybody, including when Michael did Head Like a Hole to the music of Call Me Maybe, which was hilarious. ;) That ended about midnight, and I headed back for sleep, as big day Saturday... or should I call it... Weirwood Day!

4/28, Saturday: Got up early(-ish) to get my weirwood tree costume ready. :) My makeup, since I’m not that often a cosplayer (like almost never), took a while (took forever, didn’t get to two panels I wanted to see, thankfully they’re on youtube now), and I had a panel I was actually on at 1pm and I still hadn’t put the bloody tears on at almost 12:30... So I dressed up and wigged up and leafed up, and headed out, got stopped on the way for a picture, got to the panel just a wee bit late... but still, it was an excellent panel, all about the animal symbolism in ASOIAF, lots of discussion of direwolves and how they interrelate to the Stark kids; as well as other houses, dragons, lions, krakens, bears, birds, trout... all that sort of thing. The panel’s up here on youtube if you want to see me as a white-and-red dorkus talking about direwolves. :)

Then there was the tourney, outside, which looked awesome, but it was coooold out and I still wasn’t quite done with my costume, so I went back to my room and had lunch and got finished up (occasionally glancing out the window since my lodge room had a tiny corner of a view of the tourney field), and finally... finally I was ready. :D 

Headed toward the con rooms with a big backpack full of art books for my panel (that was going to be after the costume parade, and I so didn’t want to go back and forth), as well as my bag full of ravens. :D   On the way, had a selfie with Ashaya (@buskerlenny), who had an excellent Danelle Lothston costume. Made it in time to catch the end of Emmett and Silas’s panel on Lovecraft Mythos and ASOIAF, listening while I checked that my leaves and ravens were all arranged properly. (Next time safety pins maybe?) And soon other cosplayers started coming in, including the lovely older lady who was such a perfect Old Nan last year -- this year she was the Ghost of High Heart, with a weirwood-print dress, and she was delighted to see me. :D  She had a photo taken with her sitting and me standing (as a tree) behind her, which I haven’t seen but hope shows up one of these days, it should be so neat.

And then the costume parade! So many amazing costumes, so much fun. While we were waiting to line up, I actually started tearing up (because of my contacts, eyeliner, mascara, god knows), but consensus among those who looked at me that it really didn’t hurt my makeup much and really fit the crying-tree look? so hey. :)  Last year in the parade people stopped to do performances, but this year they separated out the performances till after the parade (and the voting only for that), so it moved pretty quickly. But I got a lot of applause for my weirwood, especially when I lifted up my “branches” with the ravens on them. And I heard someone say that if they had been doing voting, I probably would have won, which is really really nice. :D :D :D

Then I sat down for the performances, and oh my gosh. There was a Rohanne vs. Dunk rap battle (with shoutout to Jaime/Brienne lol), a Brienne vs bear fight (set to the Bear and the Maiden Fair of course), Chloe did a parody of Free Fallin’ (with Lyanna and Ashara themes *wince*), and there was Michael as Tom O’Sevens singing Edmure’s Floppy Fish song that had everybody lol’ing... but the room went dead quiet in awe for Septon Meribald’s Broken Man speech. Damn. (And yeah, I cried some more.)

Group photo time!

All these amazing people. :) I’m kind of easy to find, though, lol.

And then there was my and Ashaya’s panel on the history of ASOIAF fanart, also with artists @sanrixian and @palewhiterabbit. It went really well, I think, lots of cool info... I brought my Art of Ice and Fire books, the D&E graphic novels, and some @kallielef and bubug prints (also one of @chaouenmadrid’s sansan books), Ashaya had Draw ‘Em With the Pointy End and another art book... but alas, we were up against the trivia contest in the big conference room, so again not that much of a crowd. (Someone asked me if I was cross-scheduled because Emmett and Wendy and I won trivia last year, idk lol, other people won too.) But anyway, the people who were there for the panel seemed to like it a lot -- not sure if it was filmed, but if it was I’ll put up the video eventually. Or maybe I could write down my mental notes, if you like.

Afterwards, I headed back to my room for dinner, and when Shabbos was over I took a few selfies (including some duckfaces for Kelly Sue DeConnick, whose costume inspired mine), and then washed up. Because party time!

(me and Wendy, at the party - I’m wearing little bird earrings and this tshirt)

I have few mental notes for the Flea Bottom Fete, alas. Just that it was a hell of a lot of fun, tons of great music (having a convo in the hallway, “oh wait this is my song, gotta dance”), people’s party cosplays were hilarious -- I recall Michael’s punk Bloodraven, there was a group of sexy Greyjoys, Tara had party Cersei, a bunch of girls came with a Qarth dress theme, and of course there was stripper RobbWind... and, well, there was a bar. :)  (And also someone brought macarons, nom nom nom.)

4/29, Sunday: I had to check out by noon. I had a panel to give at noon. I managed to get packed up, check out, put my suitcase in the car, and make it on time for this panel, coffee’d up and everything. I consider that a grand success. And then in the very excellent panel (on GRRM’s many other works, with me and Aziz and Amin Javadi and one of the con volunteers I didn’t catch his name augh), I managed to actually sell a few people on reading Wild Cards, I think. Truly a success. :D  And then the closing ceremonies were lovely -- and the wolf puppy from the photos that were taken Sunday even came, oh my gosh he was so cute... but sigh, alas the con was over for me.

I’d left a note on the Facebook group that I’d rented a car and could take up to 3 people back to the airport for an afternoon flight, and a few girls had contacted me that morning to take me up on the offer. So that was a nice trip. :) Returned the rental easy, caught my short flight easy, and was back in Chicago by Sunday evening to watch Avengers and get dinner with my @jimintomystery. A lovely weekend, full of ASOIAF and friends and fun, I truly hope to do it again next year!

(goddamn, this is long. no wonder I never properly wrote up last year’s con report...)

[braidybi]

Masks Character Dream Sequence

~ Frankie's Room, Later That Thursday Night ~

Frankie filled in the last answer on their homework, and smiled as they looked at the time, seeing that it wasn't too late that they were able to finish this time. It certainly helped that Frankie didn't wait till after 10 o'clock to actually start working on it this time, especially with Marissa encouraging Frankie to take care of their homework on their own now, and not wasting time with Nathan and the others this evening like he had done the previous night.

Once Frankie got ready for bed, they lied down and looked over their phone's messages from the day. There were only two recent conversations, and nothing from their team's group text. There was the number Frankie sent Rowan to the barber, sent in the afternoon while they were at Burger. And then there was the conversation with Marissa.

(5:26pm)

Hey Frankie. Want to talk?

Sure

(Call lasted: 12 minutes)

  (7:42pm)

Rowan and Jacob wanted to talk to me. Had to tell them I used my powers on Rowan to get them off your back. It didn't go well.

I'm sorry to hear that. Don't worry, maybe we can fix that tomorrow.

Hopefully

Frankie decided to send one last message before turning in.

(10:16pm)

Good night

They put down their phone and let themself drift off to sleep.

Frankie's head soon filled with echoed whispers coming from everywhere. Thoughts were coming from all different directions, all at once in a cacophonous whisper that made hearing any individual one impossible. Frankie was floating in a void as all this was happening, and they looked around... with a bored expression. They had gotten used to this dream by now, and immediately knew to close their eyes and put their fingers to their temples before swooping their arms away from their body, as if conducting an orchestra to stop, to dispel the noise.

It was their nightly reminder of the mental strain Frankie had experienced back when they first acquired these abilities. How the world wouldn't shut up for the first day or so to anyone Frankie looked at, whether Frankie wanted to hear them or not. Their dreams started off with this sequence less and less frequently since getting a better handle on their powers. But it was also a reminder of how easily Frankie was able to read minds. The only challenges were just helmets, really. And even that somehow didn't stop them from being able to read Gatekeeper's mind, with a bit of effort.

As the recurrent part of the dream reached its end, new themes began taking form in the void. The void started taking on a soft purple glow, and Frankie soon found themself gently landing on a circular platform that appeared under them. As they looked down at the platform, they could see it was about Frankie's height in radius, and Frankie could feel that this platform seemed to represent themself, their will.

They looked back up at the void, wondering what was going to happen. Soon they realized Marissa was there, somewhere. They looked all around, but couldn't quite find or see her, yet could feel her presence. Like she was watching them.

Memories of talking to her in the classroom started coming back, but they weren't quite in focus or in real time, as if being fastforwarded through and with faint, almost muted audio. Until suddenly,

"I said, you should wait and talk to me."

The voice boomed from everywhere, and with it came invisible scissors that started cutting away at the platform Frankie was standing on. It wasn't a terribly large portion being cut away, but Frankie could feel that the separated segment seemed to represent their ability to resist having a conversation with her when approached. With a final snip, the segment was cut away completely, and Frankie grabbed onto the platform edge to look down and watch it fall. Down into the purple void until disappearing from view.

Still on their hands and knees, Frankie slowly turned their attention back upwards with dread. The memories continued, but Frankie wished they would stop. They could feel things were about to get a lot worse.

"Tell me the truth."

Another round of the scissors came by, this time cutting off a much bigger portion of the platform. Frankie even had to flinch out of the way as the segment started getting snipped off. Frankie's ability to lie to Marissa, and hide the truth when asked directly. With one last snip, it was gone just the same, falling into nothingness.

Frankie could feel what was coming next. They tried futilely to cover their ears, but it made no difference to the effect of the booming voice that came next.

"For the next month, you are going to be in love with me.”

Frankie flinched when they could feel the scissors come up from right next to them. But... no cut was made. They turned around more to look, and could see the edge of the platform getting cut at, yet no tears were forming. The command still existed, still lingered in Frankie's head, but was unable to penetrate their emotions. It wasn't even anything Frankie was actively doing to prevent it, the scissors just weren't strong enough to cut away at the segments of the platform that represented an emotional state. Frankie smiled as they realized this, feeling a small victory, but the good feeling was quickly doused as the aura of the void started changing.

Frankie took another look at the soft purple glow around them. The glow started brightening, and then it started... pulsating. That's when Frankie realized that was their own heart, beating with a newfound infatuation for the ever-attractive Marissa. The Frankie on the platform was unaffected despite feeling the powerful beats of their heart. However, they could feel the platform under their legs starting to crumble and weaken. They even noticed parts of it began shrinking, and Frankie had to back away from the edge as the outer edges fell away like sand into the void.

Eventually the shrinking ceased, but not before a decent amount of the platform was missing, along with some parts that had crumbled away on their own. Gone were Frankie's reservations about following Marissa and her plans. Greatly weakened to almost nothing was their desire to argue with her. Frankie could also feel that parts of the platform were missing pieces of concern for others, as caring about Marissa took up so much more focus in their heart now. The platform was now only about 3/4ths of Frankie's height in radius, and the parts that had previously been cut away were still just as absent.

Frankie shook their head at the horrors unfolding in front of them. They looked back at the memories and spotted Rowan now, and hated themself for feeling their care for Rowan greatly diminished. Almost annoyed at Rowan for trying to take them away from Marissa. When Marissa made that comment about Rowan's hair, Frankie wanted to slap their past self for not standing up for them! But how could they have, when Marissa's opinion suddenly mattered so much and Rowan's so little? Frankie felt sick as the reality of the situation was becoming clear to them.

But the commands weren't over. Another booming voice rang out.

“Listen to me for a moment, will you?"

And with it, commands that weren't quite as booming, but still just as powerful:

"You will act normally. You won't tell them anything about, well, what changed. And you will pretend like we worked things out."

The snips came in rapid succession this time. A snip that cut away Frankie's ability to act however they want to. A snip that removed their ability to be truthful to their friends about the situation. Together those two cut out quite a chunk, and the third snip that removed Frankie's ability to give their friends any other story about the events removed just a bit more.

Frankie clung onto what was left of the platform. They could still move around it if they wanted to, but not by a lot. It was only just barely as long as Frankie's height now, and almost as wide. Frankie blushed angrily as the memories continued in extremely rapid succession now, wishing they had the ability to have been honest with their friends about this.

Eventually, one last command finally boomed out, surprising Frankie at its suddenness.

"Trust me."

Frankie could barely move their arm out of the way in time for the scissor that came. They rolled over to one of the platform edges, as the scissor snipped away the biggest chunk it had taken yet. When it was done, Frankie was left on an extremely thin piece of platform, their ability to doubt Marissa completely eviscerated.

Frankie held on to what was practically a tightrope underneath them now. They knew they had to return to the real, waking world at some point. They knew this was a bad situation to be in, and truly wished they could do something about it. But Frankie couldn't do anything unless it was within these parameters. These extremely thin set of parameters left to Frankie's will that Frankie struggled to balance between.

The Frankie in the waking world wouldn't be as unaffected by the commands as the Frankie on the platform was. Waking world Frankie was just the platform. So much freedom taken away from them and left a very, very thin line of free choices to make.

But if Frankie concentrated hard enough, maybe they could still do something with their freedom that fit along that thin line.

[faithfulcat111]

Just Shapes - Chapter 2

Day 2 (Thursday)

The sun was what eventually woke up Roman the next morning. He blinked at the rays of light that had finally streamed across his face. It was just after Daylight Savings ended in late October and the sun was about halfway down. Which meant it was mid-afternoon. Great… Roman rolled over and stared up at his ceiling, an old poster from his favourite band as a teenager taped up there. Slowly the events of last night started to filter back through his head. He moaned, rubbing at his face, barely noting that his hair was sticking up in some weird angles. Time to get up. After a brief shower and a new set of clothes, he started to run out of his bedroom but caught sight of something red and white in the corner of his eyes. It was his jacket that he wore all the time in high school, but forgot to take to college with him and his parents refused to his ship it to him. He lifted it to his nose, breathing in the must and faint smell of his parent’s laundry soap. Man, he had missed home. Roman quickly pulled on his jacket and started running down the stairs, but barely reached the bottom, one hand outstretched for the doorknob when he heard a voice call out, “Honey? Can you come see me before you head out?”

Roman rounded the corner around the stairs to find his mom sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book. She placed a bookmark in her book before looking up at him, “Oh honey, I’m so sorry we got the days mixed up. It was just so last minute you coming home and all that we just completely forgot to pick you up last night.” Roman gave a shrug, hopping up to sit on the kitchen counter. He grabbed a spoon out of a nearby drawer and the peanut butter off the counter by the toaster as he said, “It’s fine Mom. I got home safe. Uncle Mall Cop gave me a ride.” “Oh honey, I wish you wouldn’t call Uncle Thomas that. He works very hard at his job,” his mom stared at Roman for a moment while he just shoved a large spoonful of peanut butter into his mouth, not answering. “Roman, is everything all right?” Roman looked up in slight surprise, “What do you mean Mom?” “Well honey, you did just out of the blue drop out of school and decide to come home. I’m worried about you. Is everything fine?” Roman swallowed the peanut butter in his mouth before answering, “Yeah Mom, everything is fine. Just didn’t feel like going to school anymore.” He twisted the lid back onto the peanut butter and hopped off the counter to drop his spoon into the sink, “Do you know where Patton is?” His mom raised an eyebrow at him, but answered anyway, “Yes he works at the Snack Falcon now.” Roman stopped in surprise, “We have a Snack Falcon?” “Yup, they put it in after the Food Donkey shut down,” his mom picked her book back up. “They shut down the Food Donkey,” Roman’s voice trailed off as he processed this information. “Honey, are you ok?” Roman snapped his eyes up to his mom’s, “Yeah, I’m fine Mom! Just peachy!” He gave her a wide smile. “I’m gonna go find Patton.” His mom frowned, but said, “Alright, just don’t stay out too late. It is getting dark early now.” “I know Mom!” Roman waved her off as he finally made it out of the house. Outside, he stopped on the front porch appreciating the neighbourhood and the smell of fall in the daylight. He started down the street towards downtown in his quest to find Patton. Roman didn’t make it very far before he spotted a kid he used to know sitting on the front steps of a house, wrapped up tight in an old grey and black coat. “Elliott!” he shouted out, picking up the pace to reach him. The kid turned their head, one eyebrow raised in almost amused consideration as Roman reached them, “Hey kid, you back home for a long weekend?” Roman gave a short laugh, “Naw, I’m back home for good! How have you been? I haven’t seen you in forever!” Elliott just shrugged, “Nothing much. Lost my job when the Food Donkey shut down and haven’t really found another one. Had to move back in with my parents.” “Oh, I’m really sorry to hear that.” “So what are you doing now?” Elliott asked. “You working anywhere, kid?” “Oh,” Roman blinked at them, “No, I just got back. Living with my parents till I figure everything out.” “So basically you’re a teenager again?” they asked. “No! I’m not!” Roman shouted. “Seems like it to me. No job, no need to pay rent, are you going to start-” “Hey is that Roman?” Elliott was cut off as a voice rang out from above them. The two looked up to see a man looking down from a raised porch next door. “It is! Come on up here son!” “Well, better go see what he wants, kid,” Elliott gave Roman another look. Roman simply huffed at him as he turned and stomped up the stairs. Right before reaching the top, he stopped to take a huge breath before facing the man that used to be his favourite high school teacher. “Dr Picani!” he grinned at the man giving him a hug. “Roman!” Dr Picani hugged him back. “What are you doing back here? Don’t you still have school, boy?” Roman shrugged, “Not for me.” Dr Picani gave him a look, another one of those questioning looks that Roman was honestly just getting sick and tired of everyone he met giving him one. Roman was just starting to squirm under his gaze when Dr Picani gave another laugh and simply said, “Well, you were always one of my favourite students. If you ever wanted to still learn-” “No thanks, Dr Picani! Your psychology class gave me a headache literally every day. I do not want to go through that ever again.” “Not psychology,” Dr Picani chuckled. “Trust me, I am in no rush to try and teach you that either. I was talking about the class you actually had an interest in before you found out it was mainly facts and data.” Roman blinked at him before tentatively saying, “Chemist-” “Astronomy!” Dr Picani threw his hands up in excitement! “And if you want, this time I can make absolutely sure to teach you the stories that go along with the stars.” “That would be amazing!” Roman exclaimed. “Perfect! I’m up on my roof just about every night at dusk. I can’t wait to see you then! In the meantime, go find those friends of yours. I’m sure they are anxious to see you,” Dr Picani said. “Alright, goodbye Dr Picani!” Roman gave him a wave as he started back down the stairs. He looked back over his shoulder one last time at Elliott, who seemed to be scribbling in some sort of notebook, before setting off down the street once more.

After that interaction with Elliott, Roman wasn’t particularly keen on talking to anyone else. He made his way quickly through downtown, hearing bits of conversation about the failing economy and the nearby sports team’s performance. He had just spotted the Snack Falcon in a couple blocks down when a voice called out clearly over the hubbub of the town, “Hey Killer!” He turned around to see what looked to be some sort of punk running up to him. Their hair was bright pink and blue and they were wearing a leather jacket with patches that reached their knees, probably because they were even shorter than Roman, which was saying something considering he was 5’ 5”. “Excuse me?” he asked. “I have a name you know.” The punk looked apologetic as they quickly backed up, “Sorry! That’s just the only name I know you by considering, you know, you put that one kid in the hospital a few years back.” “I-i,” Roman stumbled. “People still remember that?” “Yeah! It was a freaking legend! Even us kids at the middle school heard about it! Where are my manners? The name’s Talyn, they/them,” the punk stuck at their hand. Roman looked down at it cautiously for a second before reaching out to shake it, “Roman, he/him.” He quickly pulled his hand back, “You know, you really shouldn’t idolize something like that.” Talyn waved him off with a laugh, “Seriously? That was the only interesting thing to happen in this town in years. I mean besides the recent stuff. Trust me, nobody has forgotten it yet.” “Oh,” Roman stuck his hands in his pockets, wishing he could just disappear into his jacket. Why did he think it was a good idea to come back home? However, he quickly realized what Talyn had said, “Wait, what recent stuff?” Talyn looked side-to-side before leaning it like they were giving some sort of secret, “There have been people going missing. No one believes it though. My dad vanished about a year ago. I mean, he always talked about leaving which is why the police didn’t push the investigation. But then I started paying attention. People are vanishing, those that wanted to get out of Possum Springs. People that no one would really miss. People like my dad and Remy Caste.” “Remy?” Roman’s eyes widened in surprise. “Yup,” Talyn said, popping the ‘p’, “No one believed his parents, but they put up missing fliers all over town. No one has seen him since June or so.” “Hey kid!” a voice shouted from a window above them, causing them both to look up, “Your sista’s lookin for ya!” “Oh no,” Talyn whispered before looking back down at Roman, “Hey if you ever want to talk more Killer, I’m usually up on the roofs. There’s no one to yell at ya up there. See ya!” They ran up to the door of the apartment building they were by and ran inside, leaving Roman outside reeling. Remy… Remy was missing? Roman supposed that he had always talked of hopping the trains one day and never looking back to Possum Springs, but that was all just talk. Or so Roman apparently thought. Roman turned to look back towards the Snack Falcon. Hopefully, Patton could explain some things. The bell above the door rang as Roman pushed open the door to the Snack Falcon. It certainly looked like what you would expect one to look like. Aisles of various completely unhealthy snacks, the glowing neon sign of a Slushie machine in the back. “ROOOOOOOMMMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNN!!!!!!!” a voice squeaked out through the store. And when Roman looked, sure enough, to his left there was the checkout counter with a very excited Patton behind it. His friend hadn’t seemed to have changed much since Roman had last seen him a little over a year ago. He had let his hair grow out. The locks that his parents made him keep super short through middle school and high school had grown into a slightly untamed fro style. His glasses, which were constantly being repaired with tape and wire, had finally been replaced. But he was still wearing that stupid grey cardigan that he always insisted he had to wear and his general happy-pappy Patton energy was still there. And Roman could now see it clearly, even if he may never admit it. He missed his best friend. “You’re back!” Patton threw his arms up into the air, still bouncing up and down from behind the counter. Roman laughed, quickly making his way over, “I’m back!” “Oh my, it has been so long since the last time I saw you! What are you doing back here?” Patton cried out. “You never came home to visit before!” “Well,” Roman reached a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck nervously. “I’m actually back for good.” There was silence for a moment as Patton seemed to process this for a second. It seemed like he was going to say something before he settled on another large grin and simply shouting again, “You’re back!” Roman laughed, “I’m back!” It felt good to be back with Patton who didn’t question him and just went with whatever Roman decided. “Now what’s a guy like you doing working at a place like this?” Patton laughed, “I needed a job for rent! I finally moved out of my parent’s place!” “Really?” Roman was slightly taken-aback as Patton had never really been one to stay in one place for too long without becoming distracted. “What about-?” “Me and Logan?” Patton finished. “Oh yeah, we are doing positively Pat-rific! Be-dum-tish!” Patton laughed loudly at his own pun before finishing, “We are living together now! It’s fantastic!” Roman smiled at that, “That is amazing Pat! I’m so happy for you two!” Patton nodded enthusiastically, “Yup, we are saving up money to finally ditch this town. Still got a ways to go, but we’re getting there.” “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen either of you guys. When do you get off work so we can hang out?” “Right now!” Patton vaulted himself over the counter, grabbing Roman’s wrist as he took off at a dead run out the door. “Now? But what about the- okay we’re doing this,” Roman could just barely keep up with Patton’s pace. For a guy so short, he sure was fast. But it wasn’t a far walk to a warehouse with a broken sign that Roman vaguely remembered. “Wait, is this the Party Barn? Where Logan used to work?” “Yuppity-yup! They shut down a while back. Now we use the space for band practice!” Patton replied. “Makes sense. I always wondered how there were enough parties in this town to keep them in business,” Roman was still being dragged forward by Patton. He spotted a figure ahead, setting up the speakers and instruments. “Hey, Logan!” The man, who was currently attaching wires to a soundboard, glanced up. He had grown taller and broader, actually looking like he had some fat to him unlike through high school. He still dressed as professional as ever with his polo and slacks, though his tie was loosened. He stood up and straightened his glasses, “Salutations Roman. I didn’t realize you were in town.” “Yeah well-” “Wait, you should totally practice with us!!!” Patton suddenly cut Roman off, practically bouncing up and down. “Practice with you? But I hardly remember how to play. I haven’t since I left,” Roman said as Patton darted off into the boxes that filled the back of the store. “I still have your old bass here somewhere. Darnit,” a small crash sounded. “Patton?” Logan took a step towards the boxes, concern etching his face. “I’m okay!” Patton shouted back! “Didn’t break anything neither!” “Either,” Logan muttered to himself as he took another step forward. “Seriously Patton, I’m okay. I don’t need-” Roman stopped as he heard the creaky sound of the door sound again. He turned to see another person closing the door again. When the other figure turned around and met his eyes, they stopped in shock. The new person was wearing black ripped jeans, an oversized band shirt, and a plaid hoodie. The tips of his hair were dyed purple and hanged across his eyes, foundation and black eyeshadow in the place of where Roman remembered to be freckles. “Virgil?” The new person’s face instantly melted away into a scowl as he clutched the computer he was carrying closer, “Roman. I didn’t realize you were back.” Roman awkwardly scratched at the back of his head, “Yeah I’m back.” “He’s back for good!” Patton’s voice echoed from somewhere in the building. Virgil and Logan shared a glance that Roman didn’t like before Virgil said, “You are back from college for good?” “Yeah well, how have you been Virgil? It’s been a while since we last talked,” Roman quickly deflected. It worked as Virgil’s face instantly returned to its previous scowl, “Yeah it’s been eight years.” “How the time flies!” Roman tried to chuckle, but both Virgil and Logan just stared at him, Virgil’s face still locked in that insufferable scowl and Logan’s just impassive. There was a brief moment of awkward silence with rustling sounds of Patton’s search in the background before Roman asked, “What are you doing here, Virgil?” “He plays the drums!” Patton practically rematerialized beside Roman, scaring him. He was holding Roman’s bass. “We asked him to come in after Remy left. Kinda hard to have a band with just two people.” Roman looked around, seeing no drum set, before noting that Virgil’s fingers were drumming against the computer he still clutched, “That’s not drums. That is a computer.” Virgil started to snarl at him, but Patton quickly jumped in, “Roman is going to be joining us today playing bass, okay Virgil?” Virgil stared at Roman for a long moment before responding, “Sure Patton, I’ll turn the bass parts off.” “See, everything’s fine guys! Now Roman,” Roman nearly fell over as Patton suddenly shoved the old bass into his arms, “Make some bass-iful sounds!” “That doesn’t even make sense,” Logan complained.

After band practice, the four made their way to the town diner for some pizza. They made their way about halfway through the pie, chattering aimlessly, when Roman remarked, “It’s nice, us hanging out like this. We should do it more often now that I’m back.” The other glanced at each other with almost wary looks, causing Roman to question, “What?” “Well, you see Roman,” Patton started. “As much as we would love to hang out together,” Logan continued. “We can’t,” Virgil flatly stated, pulling his legs up into his chair with him. Roman stared at Virgil, miffed and slightly hurt at his bluntness. Patton leaned forward, carefully touching Roman’s arm, directing his attention back to himself, “You see Roman, we have responsibilities now. Jobs to go to, bills to pay.” Logan nodded in agreement, “Yeah, I work the day shift at Video Outpost Too.” “I manage the Ol’ Pickaxe,” Virgil spoke up from his chair. “And I’m king of the Snack Falcons!” Patton leapt up out of his chair, his arms waving to match his excitement level. “So you see Roman,” Logan said as he placed one hand on Patton’s arm, guiding him back down into his chair, “We can’t hang out like we used to high school, all the time. Any time.” “Oh,” Roman poked at the piece of half-eaten pizza still left on the plate in front of him. “You said earlier that Remy left. Where did he go?” Patton seemed to deflate at the mention of their other high school buddy rather than get excited like Roman was hoping, “He left one night. Didn’t tell anyone where he was going, he was here one day and just gone the next. His parents thought he went missing. They put up posters all over town. But shortly after Longest Day last year, he was gone.” Roman tilted his head as he asked, “You don’t think he really went missing, do you?” Patton shrugged as he looked off out the window, “No. I think he hopped the trains. He’s gone somewhere out there, travelling.” “Just like he always said he would,” Roman tried to give Patton a smile. Patton stared at Roman for a second before breaking out into his own grin, “Yes, exactly. Just like he always said.” Roman looked over at the other two. Logan was giving his own gentle smile towards Patton. Virgil, however, was giving Roman another one of his eerie stares. Before Roman could question him though, he suddenly said in a gravelly voice, “Why did you come back, Roman?” “W-what?” this caught Roman slightly off-guard. It appeared that the issue had stuck in Virgil’s head and he couldn’t deflect it as well as he seemed to for Logan and Patton. Virgil uncurled his legs, replanting them on the floor as he leaned forward in his chair. “You heard me,” he all but growled. “Why did you leave school?” Roman turned to stare out the window much like Patton was just a moment before. “It didn’t work out,” he said. “Didn’t work out?” Roman refused to turn and see what look Virgil was giving him this time. Patton apparently saw it though as he quickly said, “Well I don’t know about you guys, but I think it is time to head out. It’s date night for me and Lo tonight so we need to get home.” “Fine by me,” Virgil stood up, the other three quickly following suit. After paying, Patton grabbed Roman’s arm on their way, “I can’t begin to tell you how excited I am that you are back in town! I have to work like every day, but we try to have band practice at least once a week and you need to hang out with us beyond that. I’ll let you know the evenings I’m off and we- what is that?” The two came to an abrupt halt right outside the diner as the two stared at the strange object Patton spotted lying on the sidewalk. Logan and Virgil walked up behind them, Virgil lighting a cigarette before joining Logan at peering around them to see what they were staring at. “Is that an arm?” Virgil asked. “It appears to be an arm,” Logan confirms, leaning in a bit closer to try and get a closer look. “Oh great, are you telling me I have to worry about dismemberment on my way home as well as everything else!” Virgil moaned. Roman smirked as he located another item right by his feet, “I’m going to poke it with a stick.” Logan turned in shock to see Roman picking up the stick, “No, we should call the police! We should not poke it with a stick!” “Do it! Do it!” Patton chanted, a grin to match Roman’s growing on his face. Roman got down to scoot forward with his stick to poke at the arm, ignoring Logan’s mutterings about how “insufferable the lot of you are.” As he pushed the arm around, the sleeve came up slightly to reveal something black on the arm. “What is that?” he whispered to himself as he continued to poke the arm around in order to push the sleeve up. It looked like it could be a black triangle or maybe a black dia- “Hey what are you kids doing?” Roman snapped his head up to see his uncle storming up the sidewalk towards the group. He quickly dropped his stick, taking a step back, one hand in front of Patton, who had been practically on top of him trying to watch what he was doing. “Hey Uncle Mall Cop!” he called out, trying to keep a smile on his face, “We found an arm.” Thomas stopped on the other side of the arm looking down in what was obviously disgust, “And you decided the best thing to do was not call the cops but to poke it with a stick?” “Yup! See there is this black-” “Roman, stop!” Roman looked up from where he was about to point out the strange marking on the arm to see his uncle rubbing at his temples with one hand in exasperation. “When there is a random body part just lying on the ground, the normal thing to do is to alert the authorities, not poke it with a stick.” Roman huffed as he straightened back up, “Well, I alert you. There is an arm on the ground outside the diner. There. You have been alerted.” Thomas stared at him for a long moment before saying, “Go home kids. But not alone. It’s getting dark, so use the buddy system.” Logan reached forward to detach Patton from where he was still holding Roman’s arm, “We live just down the street officer.” “And I can take Roman home,” Roman turned in surprise to see Virgil pulling a set of car keys out of his hoodie pocket as he dropped his cigarette on the ground to snuff it out with his sneaker. Behind him, he could hear Thomas say, “Thank you, Virgil. Now hurry home, all of you before it gets dark.” “Yes, sir!” Patton and Logan went around Thomas and started down the street hand in hand. Roman could see Thomas say something softly into his walky-talky, but before he could question his uncle further, Virgil grabbed his jacket sleeve with a quiet, “Come on,” and the two set off for a car parked just down the street. They were silent for the first few minutes of the drive. Roman nervously twiddled his thumbs. It had been years since he’d talked to Virgil let alone been in an enclosed space alone with him. But if there was one thing Roman hated, it was awkward silences, so he tried what he hoped would be a neutral silence, “So, the Ol’ Pickaxe, huh?” “What?” Virgil’s voice was so monotone that Roman almost missed that it was a question. “Your parents’ store. Are they training you to take over or what?” Roman asked. Virgil suddenly slammed on the brakes, causing Roman to jerk forward and then slam back against his seat as the seatbelt caught him. “Ow!” “Oh look, we’re here,” Virgil said, still very monotone, his face holding no expression. “Um, actually my house isn’t for another couple of blocks,” Roman said. “Get out,” a slight snarl entered Virgil’s voice. “Okay, okay,” Roman scrambled out of the car, barely shutting the door before Virgil took off, his tires screeching. “What is his problem?” Roman murmured to himself, starting on the remaining walk home.

He made it home just as the sun disappeared below the horizon. He heard a voice calling from the living room, “Roman, is that you?” “Yeah it is,” he walked around the corner to see his dad sitting on the couch, putting the TV on mute. “Roman honey, I’m sorry again that we didn’t pick you up yesterday. I still can’t believe that-” “Dad,” Roman interrupted. “It’s okay.” “No, it really isn’t,” his dad said. “Well, why don’t we do this? Let’s pretend that I did get home today. We just got home from you picking me up from the train station,” Roman suggested. His dad finally cracked a smile, “Sure.” Roman walked over to sit next to his dad, hugging him, “Thanks for picking me up from the train station, Dad.” “Your welcome Roman. How was the train ride?” his dad asked. “Lots of cattle,” the two chuckled. Roman suddenly pulled away, “Oh! We saw an arm today!” His dad’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, “Wait, are we still pretending that it is yesterday?” “No! I was at the diner with Patton, Logan, and Virgil, and there was an arm outside as we were leaving. I poked it with a stick and then Uncle Mall Cop showed up and yelled at me,” Roman explained. “I wish you wouldn’t call your uncle that. His job is very dangerous,” Roman’s dad sighed. Roman shook his head, “No, you’re missing the point, Dad. There was an arm outside the diner downtown!” “Maybe you should go to bed Roman,” his dad turned back to the TV. Roman’s face fell, “Yeah sure. Good night Dad.” He got up and started to leave the room, but was stopped when he heard his dad say, “Good night little prince.” He smiled at his dad, who was still facing the TV, before heading up the stairs to his room.

[riveires]

liminal spaces

@toauz

HYEJIN

It’s a sign of the times, so they say. Or more accurately, how they like to say it. Language is fickle like that—the right shape, the right angles; all that precision for naught the second it’s wedged in where it shouldn’t.

Case in point: the two men at table 3, the only ones in this diner brave enough to carry their voices as loud and open as they do. Hyejin in her half-attentive state catches on in threadbare snippets, tail-ends and ribbon strands cut too hastily. Without context, they loop around the same idea: for every counted misery, there’s always the shelling out of some small dime-a-dozen wisdom.

Pending divorce, a marriage on the rocks, it’s not over till it’s over.

Niece number two, stepmother one and only, stage 3 and 4 respectively, only the good die young.

Major corporate corruption, laid off just last week, a sign of the times.

They shake their heads in unison, in agreement; indeed, indeed, as if enlightenment is just that easy. As if putting it out there for the world already makes it all better. Maybe for them it isn’t about if it’s better, but whether or not it feels like it. Which in some ways it does, goes down the stomach bourbon smooth, but there’s something too casual about it, too stubborn. As stubborn as a bad habit.

Which is exactly what it is: a bad habit.

Leave it to language, really, to be full of them.

——

The night blurs, with the quality of flickering TV static; clarity, then disconnect. Moments where her hand doesn’t quite feel like her hand and neither does the reflection on the smudged window. Sometime along this dead crawl of the hour the men have left, their table empty. Hyejin’s eyes have been her plate for awhile now, dipped drowsy, cutting a long overdue meal into charred, bite-sized pieces.

Wandering doesn’t come as soon as she’d like it. The air stills, natural to this sort of 1 a.m., but there’s something pulling at her. Hyejin is slow to be compelled enough to look, but when she does, she can’t move.

Skeletons shut in the closet, burdens buried six feet under, confessions spilled without a single drop of blood. She’d been prepared before, as time had allowed for it. But not for this.

Never, ever, for this.

SEJIN

“Can I join you?”

Sejin’s already claimed her spot with the permission she knows she doesn’t ever really need. Hasn’t needed. Tense is nothing more than a continuous bond that sticks for years on end, nothing less than the woman’s stare from what seems like thousands of miles away. She only sits when she’s finished acknowledging the stillness in her eyes, a smile of her own crass enough for the other to decide, realize it’s nothing but a welcome home, darling.

(but only if you remember what that’s like,)

“I’m joining you.” This, an exhale. She pushes stray strands of hair away from her face, other hand occupied with a menu for distraction’s sake. A convenient occupation. Her lanyard hangs heavier than the burdens of this past week alone, an impending weight on her shoulders replacing it in purpose upon shifting her gaze at the not-stranger’s hands. Her neck next, cheeks after. She’s sullen, or so she won’t confirm out loud, and Sejin’s never been so disturbed at how much all of it is a sight for sore eyes.

Then again, she’s seen worse. Hopefully you have, too. My condolences while we’re at it.

Back against the cushion of the plastic-clad booth, Sejin looks at her with a full bottom lip. Had she desired to be less than sincere, said lip would be stretched, the corners of her mouth up and tight. But no, none of that. Not here anyway. It’s just them. Though, never really two. Since then.

since then, since then, since then,

“Seems you have no intention of choking to death even now.” Her smile pulls, disappears just as fast. “What a mighty fine record, that consistency.” I’ve had my hand at it, too. Silent punctuation. Time waltzes at the tip of her tongue when she can’t decide between prolonging her need to keep quiet and interrupting it with whatever folks deem a sign for I’m happy. 1, 2 3, 1, 2 3, 1, 2 3, 1 - inhale, sigh. Her chin’s on her palm, elbow on the table. Fondness on a whim. “Why are you one-upping me in looking this bothered over steak?”

HYEJIN

From a different angle, under a different set of hands, at a different time, they wouldn’t be two people but a single capture, frozen in some frame of space, the ink faint and fading.

They’d taken the pictures on a Thursday. The peak of autumn. The light pad through fallen leaves. Honeyed sky haze. A breath, the fresh taste of apple still lingering around the red of an open mouth. A day when the skin they lived in didn’t feel so tight. When she was a girl, and she was a girl—

(A girl, a girl, a girl, only a girl.)

A change in perspective is supposed to make all the difference. But what’s different?

(What difference does it make?)

The sensation that washes over is familiar, tepid and off-color, shell-shocked state drained out to the dullness of feeling underwhelmed.

Fanfare for reunions is only reserved to those she’d never given another thought to, wouldn’t care to. But then there’s her. There. Then. At the back of her mind, a snaking in, a total fallout. A pattern of comes and goes, like some phantom thing that can’t decide whether to stay or go.

To the surprise of no one, Sejin has already made up her mind.

It’s in her character to be quick in motion, anyway. A habit of hands picking things up then setting them down: the menu. That lazy, Cheshire drawl. This invisible pendulum placed in between, swaying for each lost second. Her expression says your turn, and she caves into the pull.

“You’re keeping count, that’s just as impressive.” The knife slows, but only marginally, only enough for her to see. Hyejin lifts her gaze, then locks it in full. It’s you never quite reaches completely. Instead: Hello again.

(And again, and again from the first hour to the last because this will always be here, lodged in too deep to dig out.)

“Because it looks like shit.” She skewers it up anyway by the fork, slides in a bite. Tastes like shit too.

Careful eyes flit to the column of her neck, the dangling strip of blue. “What are you, a nine-to-fiver? How professional.“

Another piece, chew and swallow. Affection rolls off of her curt and uninspired. “It’s so unlike you.”

SEJIN

But you’re still here anyway.

Sejin’s a defensive person by default. She’s known this before she’s even bothered to, and so much to her dismay, one look is all it takes for her to balance overdrive and the power of nonchalance in multiple places at a time. She scowls then, hooks her fingers around the lanyard and removes it up and over her head. Potential clatter is cushioned by the string when it lands on the table, hair swaying loosely when she leans back into the booth and crosses her arms.

“Because shit like retail and doing the dirty work is always professional, of course.” Her head’s situated on the top ledge for support, a harmful gaze shot at a ceiling that has no intention falling anytime soon. “What with all the mediocre-to-none tips and shitty customer reviews you get for breathing.” Said gaze is harmless now, back on Hyejin when she sits up. “I breathe just fine, you know?”

Right.

“None of that weird wheezing stalker-ish crap,” she clarifies. No one here deserves to sigh wistfully at anything, she could say. That would be hypocritical, however, for it’s the one thing she ends up doing when she glances at her ID once. Twice. Just in case it wasn’t herself she was seeing.

When will that be, by the way?

Sejin presses her lips into a thin line as she picks up the lanyard. It hangs from all four fingers, palm facing up to the ceiling. The bottom of the card barely reaches the tabletop, makes her place her elbow back on the surface so it feels strained no longer. Her expression remains straight. Almost never there, really.

What a metaphor, Ms. Hong. She only allows herself a quiver of a smile at this much.

“Meanwhile your life has come to what,” she says under her breath. Out loud, “Mai tais whenever you feel like it?” A quiet chuckle. “Whenever-to-whatever, victory in a cause or at least finding one.” The next one doesn’t happen. “That’s… all you’re responsible for today, huh?” Her brows raise slightly, pupils dilated more than they’d ever been in this past half hour.

Because, who gives a shit about what happens after?

You’re still here.

HYEJIN

I never said I’d leave.

This isn’t a first. Not this as in this moment: suspended, held by none other but the stale air of an afterthought. Neither is it the nature of the encounter in it of itself. By this it can only mean as in the sheer inevitability of it all, present, too present. Sharp-ticking-of-the-clock present.

She’s being too damn sensitive, or so she tells herself. Habit kicks in: don’t think, don’t think, don’t think. Her senses shift anyway, zeroing in shutter-speed: hands, card, oak of the table. Hands. Stray hair limp over the jut of her collarbone. Tinted buzzing of the light bulbs, the sign. Hands again. All that has been unsaid and stayed unsaid. Don’t. Think.

“Right,” she says, except it doesn’t sound like the noise of agreement that it’s intended for. “But you’re not.” Her fork is put down now. “Not in retail, I mean.”

Because that definitely isn’t right. Details are details, even if you’re too far to see them. Hyejin then sits up, the small of her back pressed against the worn skin of the diner booth. Turns out proximity can make you close enough to miss them. Either way, it doesn’t change the fact of the matter:

Hong Sejin and Lee Hyejin are sitting across from each other after far too long in the dead of the night.

Inevitably, at that.

“It’s something.” To the point, honest—or as honest as it can look, what with their time and place. Even if she wants to be less than so, say Mai tais? Are you hearing yourself? but restraint is one-part impulse control and one-part sentimental tendencies, and she owes that much. For everything. Despite everything.

So, as if to make it crystal-clear, she says it again:

“It’s something.“

Because isn’t everyone allowed that much? Even for the likes of them?

She shrugs, a wordless answer to a question that practically begs for it all at no cost. “It’s only been two hours. All I’ve done is sit here the whole time, with this steak.” And—maybe it’s the night holding on for too long, a trick of light, but there’s a split second of it—her expression darkens hard at the rim, then dissolves. Without a trace.

“And with you.“

You haven’t left either.

SEJIN

Sejin drops her ID.

“Two hours, hm.” Long, useless hours both with herself and yourself. Long time, no see. She still has yet to say that.

Lethargy doesn’t need to be blinked away. It was never really here to begin with; the weight on her shoulders and under her eyes isn’t that. And that, friends, will always go without saying. The ghosts of the past make it painfully clear that they’ve yet to cease.

She’s tongue-in-cheek when her eyes are laid on the card, a foreign kind of defeat etched on her face. Sharp inhale, an exhale that may as well have never happened. There’s a yawn that follows, goes unnoticed as her focus strays to the main counter, to the empty stools, zig-zagging from one end to another and back. Like a pendulum. This, her only freedom.

With a short-lived series of nods in acknowledgement to nothing and everything at once, she breaks the self-inflicted silence. Her hands fold together on the tabletop, gaze anywhere but somewhere with her back against the booth one last time. “We can cheer to that.” An inappropriate suggestion, like most other things out of her mouth alone, that really did not have to be said. Could or could not be done. Doesn’t have to be. Should. Not.

They’re hellbound regardless.

They could be, no matter what. And that’s no longer just a possibility. A conspiracy theory, a coping mechanism, anything. Never nothing.

It has, and will always be bigger than us.

Half of their lives have already been a test run.

HYEJIN

She ducks her head, both at a loss and too certain, all that and all at once. Something curls at the pit of her stomach, animal-like in the way that it lies in wait. Remorse isn’t it—premonition, her best guess. Evocative enough to make her halt, turn her line of sight back to the table.

Sometime ago, she’d had the uncanny ability to practically shear anything down to an immaterial state. Compact, disposable. Less to mull over when night falls.

It’d taken no more than a few hours for it all to turn to dust. Effort for effort for effort compounded by the year, and to end with what?

This time. A clearing for the next. Countless, daunting possibilities. She’ll have something to think about until then, whenever that’ll be. Insomnia tends to make those decisions without notice. Only serves her right, given back then. Given now.

“Why not?”

Menu in her grip, she opens it up to the page that reads off the beverage list. Draft beer. Chamiseul. No mimosas to be seen. Sarcasm in a gesture that’s as misplaced, too obvious as she is. Old habits die hard.

“Help yourself.”

Undoing what they’ve gotten away with already?

Fat chance.

Earlier on, she might’ve listed purgatory as her first choice, what with all that room to appease, to know repentance. But she’s no longer that age; older, wiser, the shift in realizations that’d come with. Her eyes begin to sting. She glances at the window again. All that endless dark to hold onto.

There’s nowhere for them to go, never has been. Not when there’s no destination for them to reach in the first place.

Not when they’re already here.

SEJIN

You, in the corner meanwhile, find yourself here on a workday and see:

There are two strangers in the dead of the night at a third-rate diner that Yelp has yet to know, the stares existing only between them. The concept of gazes can apply if and when they are lovers. Anyone else in the vicinity would vouch for this much, split into teams for no one else’s sake but their own. It’s… some game. It definitely exists.

At least it does that much, you know? Without the second-guessing part, too. It’s always the inanimate and the conceptual doing the fucking most, and she can’t seem to ever put a finger on why or what for.

Sejin’s eyes sting just as much, have been. Targeted towards a nowhere that isn’t outside nor within. They’re closed, that’s why, and if anyone else had still been watching at this point they’d be just as much of a fool as her in a parallel universe to think this is one or the other’s fault at a time. It’s a lovers’ quarrel, they will further assume. They will ride the tangent like this, and tears will be in vain if the bet was for guessing when they’d spill and not why.

But she doesn’t cry. Parallel universes exist in other lives. They exist in lives.

So she laughs instead, though not exactly dryly. You can’t do that anyways, but the sentiment doesn’t want to exist like that either if it doesn’t have to. It’s one instance, but it happens and makes her chest light enough for the parallel universe version of her to beg her to know heartbreak like she does.

With this, she gives her heart a break.

“I’ll have—” she hiccups. You, if you have me.

“—one of whatever she’s having.”

You, for the rest of your life.

——

“Haven’t seen you for ages, how are you?” “Burning.”

Sarah Kane, Phaedra’s Love

[FIN]

[transition-of-lanabean]

I’m just loving this dress. It’s so comfortable and super easy to just do whatever with, and will likely be my go-to for the foreseeable future.

 The second picture is the ‘reward’ for going to the premiere of the new Transformers movie, which my sister and I went on Tuesday night. It beat my expectations, and wasn’t overly bad. I like it better than the last movie, and a lot more than the second movie, so if you like the Transformer franchise, go for it. Lots of explosions, action and all that stuff.

 And THESE CARDS! I found them a while back and they disappeared, which I happened to come across at a store near where I work while I was wandering around the other day. I know in the long haul it’s a small thing, but hey, if there’s a card company out there who recognizes same sex couples, I’m all for it. As is said, love is love. 🌈 💜

 Well, work was fine on Wednesday and Thursday - pretty uneventful actually. I took today off (Friday) because we were overstaffed and I have plenty of vacation days, so there you go. I spent the morning... sleeping, really. I finally got up around 10:30, used my phone for a half hour then finally got up.

 By around 1 I had started to be a bit more productive and decided to go on a long walk (4-5 miles?). It’s a beautiful day, so by that time, the temperature was hovering at/above 80 degrees. I wouldn’t be surprised if I got burned a bit. Tomorrow is supposed to be warmer, followed by an even warmer Sunday at at around 90 degrees.

 Tomorrow I won’t have a chance to walk, because after work I have plans to once again go over and play some board games at my friend’s place, which will probably go until past 10. Work ‘till past 4, hang out with them for 6 hours or so... it’s going to be a long day. Hopefully I’ll come out to them. You never know though, I may just chicken out as I always do. sigh

 I hope you have all had a nice work week, and may this weekend be the best ever!

 - Lana

[canaryatlaw]

Alright, well today was all around pretty good. Definitely had much less trouble falling asleep last night, so that's a win. Still slept till like two though. Then I got up and had some pasta because it was what was around, then hung out for a bit until my sister got home from school, since I knew she had wanted to go to the mall. So I got ready and we headed out. I made a stop at Sally's first because I needed to pick up some hair dyeing supplies since I want to dye my hair tomorrow, mainly a bottle and some gloves because the ones I had here mysteriously disappeared/probably got thrown out by somebody (urgh). So from there we headed over to the mall which was pretty close by. My sister hit up Charlotte Russe and pac sun, then we went to FYE because they had a display of Wonder Woman stuff up front that I wanted to look at. They had some nice stuff but it was all pretty expensive, so I just opted for a keychain that matches the superman one I have. Right after we left there I spotted another woman woman display up front in the think geek store on the other side. It's a relatively new store, put in in the last year or so, and I don't think I've actually been inside it yet (even though I used to be a rather frequent visitor to their website, but it's been some time since that was the case). So I looked at their stuff and they had a cute shirt with the Wonder Woman symbol on it for $20 which I thought was reasonable, so I went ahead and bought that. From there we went to Sephora, my sister's favorite place, and she bought some make up for her friend's birthday gift and some foundation for herself (not that she doesn't have enough of that already). From there I liked in NY&Co quickly, then over to Dynamite where I did the same. We rounded the corner and went inside Garage, which I've been somewhat of a fan of for their floral shirts and tank tops, because you know how I feel about floral. I ended up buying a cute white romper with pink flowers on it that I really liked. I was a little unsure of it since I haven't really worn rompers since the shorts part of them is generally pretty short and I'm not really a fan of them, but I just thought eh what the hell its cute, so I got it. We strolled down the rest of that area, stopping quickly in Victoria's Secret and Steve Madden before deciding we were good and heading back to the car. My sister was begging to go to McDonald's since she's like, addicted to the stuff, so we stopped there and I got a snack size Oreo Mcflurry because those things are pretty much crack to me, and it's small enough that it wouldn't totally ruin my appetite. Went home from there, and I had some dinner of steak and sweet potatoes. My uncle came over, and I was glad to see him mainly just because I hadn't yet, but also because I'm almost out of the special face wash he gets me so I needed him to get me some more from the doctor he goes to, lol. It's a bit non-traditional for sure, but it works like a charm and keeps my skin clear when I tried literally so many products previously with zero success. He's been going crazy studying for an insurance license exam that he took today and passed, so he was ecstatic about that and the fact that it was the last one for him, so he didn't have to take anymore tests. He's like, 73 at this point I think, and said its definitely easier to study when you're younger. My younger brother is also taking a course to prep for the test, for the purpose of the two of them working some deal with my dad's best friend who owns a medical school because they're fed up with their current insurance guy, and he really likes to throw us some cash when he can, which is of course very awesome. So I was definitely happy for my uncle since I know that kind of stuff doesn't come easy to him like it does to me. Oh, idk if I mentioned yesterday (I might've but I can't be sure) but we did get our class rankings and as expected I'm back in the top 15% instead of the top 10%, which as much as I knew was gonna happen is still somewhat disappointing. My overall GPA is now a 3.679, which is of course still very good, and it only dropped .024 since last semester, but apparently that's enough to kick me back. I'm not like, right at the 15% mark, probably more around 13% or something like that, but I have to still list top 15% for resume purposes and stuff. And again like, the difference between the two will have no practical effect on my life, I just really liked being in the top 10% because it made me feel accomplished and like I was really one of the "smart" kids (selfish, I know). Oh well, not much I can do about it now other than keep moving. Anyway. After I finish dinner I hung out for a bit before returning to watch the rest of the princess bride with my sister, which we both enjoyed. It really is a very quirky movie, but it's so entertaining its quirks definitely work to its advantage. So that was highly enjoyable. She left after that, so I randomly watched an episode of the office before settling back into watching some Justice League cartoon episodes, which was amusing because Steve Trevor ended up showing up and relentlessly flirting with Diana, which felt quite appropriate at the moment. And yeah, after a few episodes of that I headed upstairs to get ready for bed and that was pretty much it. Tomorrow hopefully I'll get a chance to dye my hair since we're leaving for NC on Thursday, then I'm probably meeting up with my Denny's friends at night and getting to catch up with them, which is always a very fun time, so I'm looking forward to that. And yeah, it's 2:20 am now so I'm gonna go ahead and call it a night here. Sleep is definitely calling me. Goodnight you lovely followers of mine. Stay special.

[universatile-girl]

A letter I might let you read one day (but probably not)

I never thought of all people I would be so in love with you. I was expecting a brand new person, maybe in a few years, who was totally unusual and foreign to my ways. I thought that's what I needed next in my life, my next step. But it was you, in fact, who reached out to me. Someone from my deep past, so far it feels ancient now. Like our history never actually happened. I think we'd both like to pretend it never did, for different reasons, but that works with me just fine. You once brought it up (or maybe I did, because I was fishing for something. Sound like me?) and I remember you saying you messed it up somehow. I know what happened, I remember it somewhat clearly, but I wasn't going to reveal it. It's something I'm willing to look past because we were 14 for fucks sake (actually oh my you were still 13). Who can expect some barely-teenagers to act with maturity when it comes to relationships? You may think you were a foolish boy but I was also a dumb fuck back then. I wore eyeshadow without mascara because I thought it was more subtle... who let me get away with that! Anyways, SOMEhow, SOMEway, you still fancied me and I fricken adored you. Took you a few months too long to actually ask me out though, am I right? Because god knows I wasn't going to be the one to do it. You were so shy though, and I'm sure my face was beet red as a result of literally tripping up the stairs on my way to meet you for you to "ask me a question" and being absolutely trashed by a group of laughing older girls who witnessed it... my god it hurts to remember us back then. Curse my emotionally accurate memory. Let's fast forward? Time goes on, I never see you except for like a total of 5 times for the rest of high school. The ones I remember are: sitting on the blocks in the mall in a group of mutual friends and you were on the other side of the circle, the exact time Jamie decided to point out that my face looked orange, hopefully you don't remember; walking home while you were walking the same direction with that skateboard of yours, me asking where you were headed and oh guess what you were going to your girlfriends, well that's okay cause I had a boyfriend currently living in another country; I was working at target the beginning of grade 12 and you came through my till buying silly string for the grad prank. And then that's it! Not even at grad. Then early December last year I was on a bus and I saw you on the sidewalk. And coincidentally no more than a week later you messaged me out of the blue. And there goes Chris And Tanea Round 2. Here we are one month short of a one year anniversary, and I absolutely cherish the warm feelings I get from looking back on our past year spent together. It's amazing how much nostalgia you can feel for something you still possess. Our first date started a little awkward, but I definitely expected it knowing who we both were. It's strange going on a first date with someone you were once kind of close with. You think you know them, but it suddenly becomes very obvious that 4 years does a lot to a person, especially at such a young age. Here we were, two recently graduated 18 year olds, playing board games just as much as we were playing the game of life, trying to make sense of our feelings. It was a wonderfully unromantic, normal day, and then it became wonderfully romantic in the best way possible. It was rainy and cold and sooo windy, neither of us were dressed for that. We went for a downtown walk, we talked, learned about each other's new lives outside of high school. You were unexpectedly funny, I was laughing the whole time. And you were confident, you knew how to take care of me without me even realizing I needed to be taken care of. If my memory serves me right, you even held my hand that first day? I'm not sure. But you sure gave me your jacket, you paid for our activities despite my rejection, and you put your arm around me on the bus. "I could get used to this," you said. Ahh... I'll admit I was trying my best not to fall for you, because I was weary of your intentions, but let me tell you those worries disappeared once I realized how genuine your actions were. You never did anything with desperation, you just did it and I saw how happy it made you. I went to your house that first day briefly while we waited for a movie time. I met everyone in your house and your dogs, and it was so unexpected from the house I had imagined you called home. Your parents pestered you to ask me if I wanted tea, as they still do. But now they are my family in a way too and if I want tea I just make it. Then we went to the movie, a superhero comedy, and within 20 minutes there was a real good make out scene. I remember getting all nervous and then you looked at me so I looked back and you lifted my chin and kissed me for the first time ever. We held hands for the rest of the movie. That was Sunday, now it's Thursday and I meet you downtown across from your work, but neither of us know what to do so we go to my house. But it's a nice day, so we walk. The whole way. The only times I've done that have been with you, then and this past New Year's Eve, and once with my mom cause she's a fitness freak. But it was such a nice walk. That was march 17th, the day you asked me to be your girlfriend. And you literally said it just like that. We were holding hands and you lifted them while wrapping your arm around my shoulders and looked at me and said it all unflustered and I just... what the fuck. Everything in me tried to think of a way out of it, I was scared. I wasn't sure what I wanted. But (hopefully) without hesitation I agreed and smiled, relieved. That's when I knew I truly wanted it. That day I think I made you watch a kids movie. For someone who never used to watch movies I sure changed that huh? And we made out on the couch. And I think you stayed really late, like so late you missed the last bus and had to catch a cab home. That Saturday you stayed the night though, and we did the naughty. And then my mom got really mad cause she didn't know you. But it went away eventually. We really didn't waste much time getting to that point, but I kind of like that. The whole beginning of our (second) relationship was kind of urgent, as if we were trying to make up for all the time we lost. But it was far from meaningless, I needed you more than I realized and apparently you did too and it just came out in affection. After that point we started hanging out more and more, and all of the other important milestones of ours are so abundant that I can't possible recount them all. But, I have to give some, so first there's the day you told me you loved me. Actually, rewind, I forgot about my period scare. It must have been about a month or 2 after we started banging and I hadn't had my period for 3 months, but I never mentioned it to you because I didn't expect you to think about it. Then one day, with a great solitary view of the city beneath us, you confronted me about its absence. Then I came clean, understanding your investment in us finally. You then proceeded to tell me "whenever I felt like I wanted to say I love you, it would be okay" or something like that. It was ultra confusing at the time, but you later confessed that you were at that point, and you could have said it right then and there. You were trying to not make it something scary for either one of us. Those three words have powerful meaning, and no one should be embarrassed to say it. Not long after that was the actual day you said it, the SAME DAY I tried edibles for the first time. I took waaaaaay too much and completely lost my mind so guess what, I barely fucking remember that beautiful day. But what I do remember is standing on a beach at the potholes, a time seemed to be going immensely slow. I swear an entire lifetime passed, but you said it was only 20 minutes. Still, it wouldn't have been a bad lifetime. So we are talking about something and I probably look like an idiot, but you tell me you really like me. My natural response is to say the same, because I do and I can't possibly think of other words myself at this point. And then you say you might even say that you love me. I don't know what happened then but I said it back and we said other things I think. Then sometime during all those years we were there we found a rock with three pieces, so we held hands and threw one each into the river and while saying "I love you", your idea. I remember thinking where all your romantic shit was coming from, but I loved it. I think I grabbed a lot of rocks that day cause I have too many with that date written on it. I hate the fact that I was high the first time we said it, and I hate that I barely remember it, but I just started thinking that, if that's the way it went down, I might as well accept it. So in a way that high was kind of magical. I wasn't necessarily unhappy with it while we were at the beach (it got worse later when I had to talk to people) so I was able to take in absolutely everything about the scenery. The ripples in the water, the sound of pebbles under my feet, the body of a loved one near me, emanating security, the breeze... it was kind of perfect. The memory I have is like a surreal dream. An intense dream where my senses are heightened but it seems like I'm in another universe entirely where time doesn't move. I can live with that. For someone who overthinks every little detail and becomes self conscious of their actions in every interaction, I must say maybe it was good for me to have a diluted experience like this. Other things I remember are all of our nature exploration days in the summer, cuddling everywhere, having sex in some slightly risky places, sitting in your driveway while you work on your car, house sitting, finding Pokemon, snow days. There are so many qualities in you I didn't expect to find, and I'm so grateful to call you mine. Something about our relationship or my life right now has made me come full circle in a way. It seems like since we started talking again, a lot of the things I left behind in high school have resurfaced. Particularly people. But under any other circumstance it may seem unpleasant, while right now it just seems right. It's like some unfinished things are making their way back. Whether it's because I left high school in a rush, or the person I was with at the time had me isolated from everything I'm not sure, but these recurrences are helping me understand myself. It helps to revisit old people and interests sometimes, even if you thought your business was finished there. Chances are there's still a lot to learn, especially since people change so much from 16-20. Everyone I see now seems incredibly different from how I knew them, and I love seeing the transformation. There can be a kid who gets in trouble constantly and you think will never succeed, and then a couple years later they're putting away their bad habits and putting themselves through school. Well, it seems you and I certainly had unfinished business. Valentine's Day was yesterday and I just realized, it's not the first one we've spent together. That's crazy! 5 years ago we had our first and only date on Valentine's Day. So I take it back, we have had a first date, even though I wouldn't really call that a date. But damn I didn't even realize. I think forgetting is sometimes a blessing. I also have a random memory of you holding your hand out for me to cross the river on the Grade 8 camp out, when we didn't even know each other. So I don't know why I kept that memory. But then that reminded me of a dream journal entry I made also in grade 8. Before or after the camp out I'm not sure but presumably after. In my dream, I had a very intense connection to this young boy. It appeared he was my own, but I wasn't sure. His face was unmistakably yours. As if you were a 4 year old probably, it just wasn't creepy I promise. But that was one of few dreams I've had where I woke up and felt moved. It was important to me certainly. I don't have anything to explain that coincidence but it still means something. I feel something with you that I've never known before. When we were talking about our future that one time and you confessed you spend the rest of your life with me, right now. You knew it in your heart. That broke me, because I knew you meant it. You reach me on another level for sure. And when we watch the vlog together and get all mushy when he boasts about how amazing being a dad is. And when you teared up at the one where a kid with cancer got his wish to meet him... oh my. You are special. You put up such a front but I'm glad you show me behind all that that. I melted when you drove me past a particular front yard that you passed minutes earlier on your way to get me, where a dad was playing outside with his kids. You are such a softie and I love it. You have so much heart.

[reviewsbyang]

Release Blitz

Title: The Girl At The Bar Series: standalone

Author: Nicholas Nash

Genre: psychological thriller

  Synopsis:

Rebecca, a brilliant cancer researcher, disappears after a one-night stand with a neurotic man with a questionable past. 

Her sudden disappearance in the midst of a high-stakes quest to cure cancer between two rival billionaires sets into motion an inexplicable chain of events as the bodies start to pile up. 

No one knows why she disappeared. The race to find answers ensnares everyone around her, one of whom is a deeply disturbed psychopath lurking in the shadows. 

Is Rebecca still alive? What happened to her? Who did it? And why? Questions about her vex everyone looking for answers. No one can be trusted and no one is above suspicion…

  This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Sneak Peek:

Chapter 1

Day 1, Thursday

The King & Duke Bar, New York City

She was wearing a gorgeous black dress.

The first things he noticed about her were her slender legs and her delicate wrist. She wore a thin diamond bracelet that sparkled in the low light of the hotel bar as she drank her martini, almost unaware of her surroundings. She was a gorgeous golden blonde with features that were tough to look away from, or ever forget.

She pulled out her purse and started to go through it when something fell out of it. She bent over to pick up the fallen object, half sitting on the bar stool when he walked over to help her pick it up.

He didn’t know what got over him, but he had to walk over to help her, to get noticed by her, to be an infinitesimally small part of her life, even if for just a few moments. He reached out for the object, just a few moments quicker than her, their hands almost colliding mid-air when, to his horror, he noticed the object was a tampon. Rather than recoil he swallowed his fear and embarrassment and cupped the tampon and handed it gently and discretely back to her. She skillfully grabbed it from his hand and before he knew it, the tampon was back in her purse and she looked up and gave him a wide smile.

“Hi, I’m Rebecca. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m uh, I’m uh…..I’m so sorry. I just didn’t know it was a, a, a, you know, a..”

She burst out laughing and he took the bar stool next to hers, still red in the face, but feeling better knowing she found the whole episode amusing, probably more so given his reaction. Before long, he introduced himself, this time, actually telling her his name, trying not to think about the tampon incident.

“I’m Ragnar, Ragnar Johnson.”

“Scandinavian?”

“Yes and no. I’m American, but the name is Scandinavian. Norwegian actually. Believe it or not, my parents named me after a character from an Ayn Rand novel.”

“Atlas Shrugged, I know. The capitalist pirate.” She was suppressing a chuckle and smiling.

“Well, here’s the whole story. My parents adored Ayn Rand, her ideas and her books. They decided to name the children after key characters from Atlas Shrugged.”

“So you have a sibling named John Galt?”

“Close enough. Two brothers, John Johnson and Francisco Johnson. Thankfully we all got to keep our family last name. Can you imagine me as a Ragnar Danneskjöld?”

They chatted about what brought her to New York City. She told him that she was a medical executive and was traveling to the city for a large cancer conference that was well-attended every year by executives of large pharmaceutical and biotech companies, academic researchers, oncologists, as well as sales and marketing executives from across the spectrum of companies. Her company was presenting results for and launching their latest cancer drug, a highly publicized next-generation miracle drug.

Before she joined her company, she was an assistant cancer researcher in the laboratory of Dr. Steven Gupta, the country’s leading cancer researcher, whose groundbreaking discoveries in the field of cancer fueled the laboratories of several large and small pharmaceutical and biotech companies.

“So Dr. Gupta is probably one of the richest doctors on planet, I presume?” he asked.

“On the contrary, he’s been so immersed in his quest to cure cancer, academic glory and possibly a Nobel Prize in medicine that he never really benefitted financially from his discoveries. In an effort to continue to push his research through the labs of the giant pharmaceutical companies at the fastest possible pace, he licensed out all his research without any real benefit to himself.” He sensed a tinge of sadness in her face and in a fleeting moment it was replaced by the same warm smile and she turned to sip her martini.

He thought that not only was she the striking beauty that one could not take their eyes off, or ever forget, she was also a smart, highly intelligent and a compassionate person who cared about the work she did for the broader good of humanity.

“And what brings you here today, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor, rescuing ladies who’ve dropped their tampons?”

No lie he could’ve made up would match up to what she was in reality. After all, he did get more than he bargained for since he first set eyes on her sitting alone at the bar. No lies, just the truth. The plain and simple truth. It did not matter to him anymore what she would think of him.

“I’m an unemployed trader. Nothing is more clichéd than a jobless failed trader in New York, I guess.” She put her hand on his saying, without any spoken words, that she was sorry and sympathetic. “I lost my job at one of the large investment banks in the city a few months ago. I worked on a trading desk, tracking complicated securities and setting up even more complicated trades. I was good at numbers growing up. I thrived as a quantitative analyst at the bank. A quantitative analyst analyzes reams and reams of trading information to identify trends and signals in the data that could help in predicting the direction of securities prices and hopefully make money in the process. I worked on setting up trades in arcane securities and made money day in and day out for the first few years, till one day the house of cards came tumbling down.”

He glanced at her to see her reaction. “Following a quick turn of events those trades lost hundreds of millions of dollars for the bank within days and I was thrown out of there before I could catch my breath or understand what happened. It turns out we were picking up pennies in front of a steamroller. We lost multiples of what we made in the last few years. I had a lot of my personal money invested in the same trades too. Not sure if I’m ever going to find another job again after that disaster.”

She was probably stunned by the admission, but did not show it.

“Anyways, I was at the Bowery Ballroom earlier tonight to watch my favorite indie rock band. They’re from New Zealand and they’re in the city for a couple of shows. Thought I’d stop for a drink after the show before calling it a night. My place is close by from here.”

She smiled. “You know this happened to my father too when I was young. He lost his job in security at the local Wal-Mart after an employee was caught for theft. She was skimming cash and shoplifting with the help of some other employees before they finally caught her. My father lost his job in the cleanup that followed. It took him over a couple of years before he found his next job. He was a changed person after that but he always said that those two years were the happiest days of his life.”

“I kind of miss the excitement and the thrill of the trading desk. I trade on and off with my own money but it’s not much to begin with. New York’s an expensive place.” He pensively stared at the beer he had ordered but not sipped yet.

“You know, I was a huge fan of 80s hair bands.” she said steering the conversation in a different direction.

“Why am I not surprised? So what’s your favorite 80s band?”

“Guns N’ Roses. You?”

“Def Leppard. Favorite GN’R song?” he asked, trying to imagine her head banging to Welcome to the Jungle.

“Rocket Queen. What about your favorite Leppard song?” She was clearly waiting for his reaction to her answer.

“Uh, Rocket Queen, huh. Mine’s uhh, it’s probably Bringin’ On the Heartbreak. You know the moaning in Rocket Queen is really Axl Rose getting nasty with..”

She nodded. “Umm hmm, that’s what I like about the song.” she said with an evil grin on her face, like she just got caught with a guilty secret. “Never would’ve counted you as a mushy type, though.”

They spent the next few hours talking about the 80s bands, must-go places in New York City, curing cancer, his former job, her days as a researcher and her father. The chemistry was undeniable and he was intoxicated by her beauty and intelligence and yet down-to-earth manner. He knew she felt their chemistry too.

“This is going to sound a bit strange, but do you mind if I crash at your place tonight? There’s construction that starts at night just outside my hotel window. Kept me up most of the night yesterday. I know it sounds strange, but..”

“No, no, no problem. You’re welcome to spend the night. It’s a small place, but I’m happy to spend the night on the sofa tonight. It’s quite cozy, honestly. You can take my bed.” He tried to be the nice guy and not too direct.

He sensed a hint of disappointment in her voice for a moment and then she was herself again. “Let me pick up a few things from my room and I’ll be right back. I’ll see you in the lobby in a few. Thanks Ragnar, I really appreciate it”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll wait for you in the lobby.”

Goodreads link: http://bit.ly/2hPkt7D

  Purchase links:

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2iCqw1d

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2iyVHN1

Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/2iCqCWD

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2j9ooBl

B&N: http://bit.ly/2iIbEko

  Author bio:

Nicholas Nash is the exciting new author of The Girl At The Bar, a psychological thriller about the mysterious disappearance of a brilliant cancer researcher and the quest to find her. Nicholas resides in the concrete jungle of Manhattan in New York City with his wife and three children. An accomplished finance professional, he has a passion for reading fiction and non-fiction books which inspired him to write an intriguing thriller. Nicholas hopes you enjoy his work. For news and updates, email us at thegirlatthebar@gmail.com.

Author links:

Website: http://bit.ly/2hQKZNP

Facebook: http://bit.ly/2iPs5c2

Instagram: http://bit.ly/2hSFlhn

Release Blitz: The Girl At The Bar by Nicholas Nash Release Blitz Title: The Girl At The Bar Series: standalone Author: Nicholas Nash Genre: psychological thriller…

[reviewsbyang]

Release Blitz

Title: The Girl At The Bar Series: standalone

Author: Nicholas Nash

Genre: psychological thriller 

Synopsis:

Rebecca, a brilliant cancer researcher, disappears after a one-night stand with a neurotic man with a questionable past. 

Her sudden disappearance in the midst of a high-stakes quest to cure cancer between two rival billionaires sets into motion an inexplicable chain of events as the bodies start to pile up. 

No one knows why she disappeared. The race to find answers ensnares everyone around her, one of whom is a deeply disturbed psychopath lurking in the shadows. 

Is Rebecca still alive? What happened to her? Who did it? And why? Questions about her vex everyone looking for answers. No one can be trusted and no one is above suspicion… 

Sneak Peek

Chapter 1

Day 1, Thursday

The King & Duke Bar, New York City

She was wearing a gorgeous black dress.

The first things he noticed about her were her slender legs and her delicate wrist. She wore a thin diamond bracelet that sparkled in the low light of the hotel bar as she drank her martini, almost unaware of her surroundings. She was a gorgeous golden blonde with features that were tough to look away from, or ever forget.

She pulled out her purse and started to go through it when something fell out of it. She bent over to pick up the fallen object, half sitting on the bar stool when he walked over to help her pick it up.

He didn’t know what got over him, but he had to walk over to help her, to get noticed by her, to be an infinitesimally small part of her life, even if for just a few moments. He reached out for the object, just a few moments quicker than her, their hands almost colliding mid-air when, to his horror, he noticed the object was a tampon. Rather than recoil he swallowed his fear and embarrassment and cupped the tampon and handed it gently and discretely back to her. She skillfully grabbed it from his hand and before he knew it, the tampon was back in her purse and she looked up and gave him a wide smile.

“Hi, I’m Rebecca. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m uh, I’m uh…..I’m so sorry. I just didn’t know it was a, a, a, you know, a..”

She burst out laughing and he took the bar stool next to hers, still red in the face, but feeling better knowing she found the whole episode amusing, probably more so given his reaction. Before long, he introduced himself, this time, actually telling her his name, trying not to think about the tampon incident.

“I’m Ragnar, Ragnar Johnson.”

“Scandinavian?”

“Yes and no. I’m American, but the name is Scandinavian. Norwegian actually. Believe it or not, my parents named me after a character from an Ayn Rand novel.”

“Atlas Shrugged, I know. The capitalist pirate.” She was suppressing a chuckle and smiling.

 “Well, here’s the whole story. My parents adored Ayn Rand, her ideas and her books. They decided to name the children after key characters from Atlas Shrugged.”

“So you have a sibling named John Galt?”

“Close enough. Two brothers, John Johnson and Francisco Johnson. Thankfully we all got to keep our family last name. Can you imagine me as a Ragnar Danneskjöld?”

They chatted about what brought her to New York City. She told him that she was a medical executive and was traveling to the city for a large cancer conference that was well-attended every year by executives of large pharmaceutical and biotech companies, academic researchers, oncologists, as well as sales and marketing executives from across the spectrum of companies. Her company was presenting results for and launching their latest cancer drug, a highly publicized next-generation miracle drug.

Before she joined her company, she was an assistant cancer researcher in the laboratory of Dr. Steven Gupta, the country’s leading cancer researcher, whose groundbreaking discoveries in the field of cancer fueled the laboratories of several large and small pharmaceutical and biotech companies.

“So Dr. Gupta is probably one of the richest doctors on planet, I presume?” he asked.

“On the contrary, he’s been so immersed in his quest to cure cancer, academic glory and possibly a Nobel Prize in medicine that he never really benefitted financially from his discoveries. In an effort to continue to push his research through the labs of the giant pharmaceutical companies at the fastest possible pace, he licensed out all his research without any real benefit to himself.” He sensed a tinge of sadness in her face and in a fleeting moment it was replaced by the same warm smile and she turned to sip her martini.

He thought that not only was she the striking beauty that one could not take their eyes off, or ever forget, she was also a smart, highly intelligent and a compassionate person who cared about the work she did for the broader good of humanity.

“And what brings you here today, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor, rescuing ladies who’ve dropped their tampons?”

No lie he could’ve made up would match up to what she was in reality. After all, he did get more than he bargained for since he first set eyes on her sitting alone at the bar. No lies, just the truth. The plain and simple truth. It did not matter to him anymore what she would think of him.

“I’m an unemployed trader. Nothing is more clichéd than a jobless failed trader in New York, I guess.” She put her hand on his saying, without any spoken words, that she was sorry and sympathetic. “I lost my job at one of the large investment banks in the city a few months ago. I worked on a trading desk, tracking complicated securities and setting up even more complicated trades. I was good at numbers growing up. I thrived as a quantitative analyst at the bank. A quantitative analyst analyzes reams and reams of trading information to identify trends and signals in the data that could help in predicting the direction of securities prices and hopefully make money in the process. I worked on setting up trades in arcane securities and made money day in and day out for the first few years, till one day the house of cards came tumbling down.”

He glanced at her to see her reaction. “Following a quick turn of events those trades lost hundreds of millions of dollars for the bank within days and I was thrown out of there before I could catch my breath or understand what happened. It turns out we were picking up pennies in front of a steamroller. We lost multiples of what we made in the last few years. I had a lot of my personal money invested in the same trades too. Not sure if I’m ever going to find another job again after that disaster.”

She was probably stunned by the admission, but did not show it.

“Anyways, I was at the Bowery Ballroom earlier tonight to watch my favorite indie rock band. They’re from New Zealand and they’re in the city for a couple of shows. Thought I’d stop for a drink after the show before calling it a night. My place is close by from here.”

She smiled. “You know this happened to my father too when I was young. He lost his job in security at the local Wal-Mart after an employee was caught for theft. She was skimming cash and shoplifting with the help of some other employees before they finally caught her. My father lost his job in the cleanup that followed. It took him over a couple of years before he found his next job. He was a changed person after that but he always said that those two years were the happiest days of his life.”

“I kind of miss the excitement and the thrill of the trading desk. I trade on and off with my own money but it’s not much to begin with. New York’s an expensive place.” He pensively stared at the beer he had ordered but not sipped yet.

“You know, I was a huge fan of 80s hair bands.” she said steering the conversation in a different direction.

“Why am I not surprised? So what’s your favorite 80s band?”

“Guns N’ Roses. You?”

“Def Leppard. Favorite GN’R song?” he asked, trying to imagine her head banging to Welcome to the Jungle.

“Rocket Queen. What about your favorite Leppard song?” She was clearly waiting for his reaction to her answer.

“Uh, Rocket Queen, huh. Mine’s uhh, it’s probably Bringin’ On the Heartbreak. You know the moaning in Rocket Queen is really Axl Rose getting nasty with..”

She nodded. “Umm hmm, that’s what I like about the song.” she said with an evil grin on her face, like she just got caught with a guilty secret. “Never would’ve counted you as a mushy type, though.”

They spent the next few hours talking about the 80s bands, must-go places in New York City, curing cancer, his former job, her days as a researcher and her father. The chemistry was undeniable and he was intoxicated by her beauty and intelligence and yet down-to-earth manner. He knew she felt their chemistry too.

“This is going to sound a bit strange, but do you mind if I crash at your place tonight? There’s construction that starts at night just outside my hotel window. Kept me up most of the night yesterday. I know it sounds strange, but..”

“No, no, no problem. You’re welcome to spend the night. It’s a small place, but I’m happy to spend the night on the sofa tonight. It’s quite cozy, honestly. You can take my bed.” He tried to be the nice guy and not too direct.

He sensed a hint of disappointment in her voice for a moment and then she was herself again. “Let me pick up a few things from my room and I’ll be right back. I’ll see you in the lobby in a few. Thanks Ragnar, I really appreciate it”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll wait for you in the lobby.”

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Goodreads link: http://bit.ly/2hPkt7D

  Purchase links:

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2iCqw1d

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2iyVHN1

Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/2iCqCWD

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2j9ooBl

B&N: http://bit.ly/2iIbEko

  Author bio:

Nicholas Nash is the exciting new author of The Girl At The Bar, a psychological thriller about the mysterious disappearance of a brilliant cancer researcher and the quest to find her. Nicholas resides in the concrete jungle of Manhattan in New York City with his wife and three children. An accomplished finance professional, he has a passion for reading fiction and non-fiction books which inspired him to write an intriguing thriller. Nicholas hopes you enjoy his work. For news and updates, email us at thegirlatthebar@gmail.com.

Author links:

Website: http://bit.ly/2hQKZNP

Facebook: http://bit.ly/2iPs5c2

Instagram: http://bit.ly/2hSFlhn

Release Blitz The Girl At The Bar by Nicholas Nash Release Blitz Title: The Girl At The Bar Series: standalone Author: Nicholas Nash Genre: psychological thriller