#i’ve got another interview next friday yesterday. so if i don’t get this job then i just have to prepare for that one

[fingertipsmp3]

Sentence that just left my mouth: “he’s married?!?! WHO GETS MARRIED”

[sukirichi]

— there’s always a price to pay when you get your hands on a work of art.

PAIRING: tattoo! artist megumi x reader

REQUEST. tattoo artist au + mutual pining + size kink, praise kink, thigh riding + reader is shorter than megumi and isn’t shy 

WARNINGS: feral megumi, scratching, vaginal sex, size kink, praise kink, mature content, slight overstimulation, sexual tension lol, unedited story

NOTES: ah thank you so much for this request, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Here is my third contribution for FERAL MEGUMI FRIDAYS! and oh wow tattoo artist megumi uh no thoughts head empty

WC: 5.4k+

The tattoo saloon loomed over you, the neon signs almost blinding in the darkness. You could feel your heart pick up its pace in your chest as you hitched your bag up higher, the excitement settling in your toes. Mustering up the brightest smile you could have, you cleared your throat and pushed the door open, the tiny bell on top jingling to signal your arrival.

Your eyes roamed around the walls covered with intricate drawings, the leather seats dark and kept in pristine. Now that was rare – your leather couches always wore out in just a few weeks.

Making your way inside, grip on your sling bag still tight, you bit your lip as you peaked behind the counter. Empty. No one was there, and the nearby opened rooms were empty as well. Scratching your head, you scrunched your nose in confusion. You were sure you got the right place.

With a heavy sigh, you turned to leave, then stopped in your tracks when a dark-haired man exited a door you hadn’t even noticed at first.

He was tall – taller than you; his arms stretched until the sleeves of his black hoodie were pulled down, revealing a sliver of black tattoos that marked his skin. Upon hearing your awed gasp, his cold blue eyes fluttered to yours, the man – who was absolutely handsome despite his frown – froze in his spot.

You waved a hand to him, your smile bigger than ever. “Hi!” So you would be working with this cute guy? Maybe job-hunting wasn’t such a bad experience, after all.

“Hey,” he drawled out hesitantly, approaching you with his ink stained fingers pointed at you. He was still frowning, which was a damn shame, since you were sure he’d look even hotter if he smiled. “So...you’re Y/N.”

“Yeah!”

“And you...” he tilted his head to the side, inquisitive eyes studying your form. You would’ve felt conscious with the way his brows furrowed, eyes unreadable and lips pressed into a thin line, but you were sure you dressed to impress on your first interview. You admitted, however, that maybe wearing a white collared shirt with a pink tennis skirt made you stand out like a sore thumb in the heaviness of the studio. “...want to be a front desk man here?”

“Yeah!”

“What makes you think you’re qualified for this?” he crossed his arms on his chest, and you didn’t miss the slight bite of his voice. So he was handsome – but cranky. Great. “You don’t look like you fit in here.”

“Judging someone’s appearance and inferring that it has any relation to their credentials isn’t such a professional thing to do, you know,” you raised your chin proudly, jutting a pointer finger to his chest. He clearly didn’t expect this because he scowled and took a step back, while you fought the grin that threatened to paint your face. “Would you like it if people told you that you’re not qualified to be a lawyer because of your tattoos and piercings?”

He scoffed, “I don’t want to be a lawyer. As you can see, I’m a tattoo artist. And to answer your question, no, I don’t give a fuck what people think about me.”

“I can tell,” you muttered to yourself before smiling back up at him. He was too easy to read; his brow quivering and lips firm at your faux enthusiasm. “But yes, I do believe I’m qualified! I’m a fast learner and I’m even quick on my feet! I’m really good at talking to people too so I believe I can help schedule client appointments really well and guide them with this whole process.”

“Being front desk man doesn’t mean serving the clients tea and biscuits.”

“I know.”

“You know?” he snorted with a roll of his eyes. He then gestured you to follow him all the way back to the front desk. You expected he’d teach you about how to handle the appointment books or pick up phone calls, but instead he plopped down on the leather couch of the waiting area, his legs crossed on top of the other.

Your eyes followed the patch of pale skin exposed from his ripped jeans before you looked away, not wanting him to see that you found him attractive despite his less than welcoming personality.

“What exactly do you know about this industry?”

“Nothing, to be honest, but I’m not here to be a tattoo artist or anything. I just really need a job and I assure you I’ve got plenty of experience and knowledge when it comes to manning front desks or counters,” you stated confidently, “I know I look out of place, but I really need this job.”

The man only narrowed his eyes at you. Contemplation was written all over his face, probably wondering why you couldn’t just work somewhere else. “Why come here, of all places?”

“Because it’s the only one that has a flexible schedule,” you sighed, “I can’t work shifts anymore because I’m too busy at university. From when I talked to your boss – Geto, was it? – he said that the salon was open 24/7 and I could work until before my classes start. He’s not really strict about that kind of thing.”

“So you mean to tell me,” he leaned forwards, looping his fingers with one another while his ice cold gaze slithered over your desperate ones. “You’ll be at university for half the day, sleep until midnight, and then come here to work and attend class a few hours later? Isn’t your schedule a little irregular?”

“Oh no, it’s not like that! I also have mock classes after uni and it lasts until late at night, then I help clean at the local shelter. They’re running out of volunteers and the dogs are really adorable and take my stress away so...I make sure to come by when I have time.”

“You are one odd creature,” he noted loudly, almost as if he wasn’t completely aware he vocalized his thoughts. Well, at least now you knew he wasn’t the type to think his words over, which either made him more entertaining – or insufferable the longer you worked with him – if you began working anyway. “You could’ve used your spare time to rest. Do you even eat?”

“Yeah, I have a granola bar right now with me! I actually brought two,” you pulled out the snack from your bag, “You want some? I only got the oats, though.”

“Keep it to yourself,” he rolled his eyes, slapping his hands over his knees before rummaging over something behind the counter. “Fine. If Geto said he’s okay with you, then you’re hired.”

“Really, that easy?” your eyes widened, but then you chuckled when this strange man glared at you in response. He sighed as he pulled out a piece of paper, a pen on top of it. The papers read something about application forms and credentials, and you beamed, happily writing your information away with a slight bounce in your toes.

Unable to keep your happiness to yourself, you looked back at the bored man, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. “Huh. I was kind of expecting you would grill me – you’ve got that scary look in your eye. Let me guess, you often scare clients off?”

It seemed he could never get tired of glaring at you, because his eyes fuelled with heat as he leaned against the wall.

You hated to admit that he looked ridiculously handsome like that – the guy wasn’t even doing anything remotely attractive in the first place!

“I’m the most booked artist here, and I ask that you don’t get too comfortable with me. You haven’t even started working here and you’re already riling up on my train,” he groaned when you merely laughed in response. He made quick work of signing something in your form before handing you a key. “Here’s for your locker. Come to work tomorrow. Geto won’t be around for a week so I’ll be the one judging your performance. If you fuck up in the slightest – I won’t hesitate to fire you, you understand? We always have Yuuji coming around anyway, you’re really not that needed for the front desk.”

“Oh,” you nodded at his harshness, unsure whether to feel threatened or amused. “O-okay. I’ll do my best then. I look forward to you – ah, wait, what’s your name?”

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

“Oh, that’s a pretty name,” you muttered to yourself, uttering his name over and over again until it rolled smoothly on your tongue. “Shame you have a shitty attitude along with that handsome face, though.”

“You trying to say something?”

You faced him, about to laugh when he scowled at your not-so-subtle comments. Waving your hands to him, you made your way out the door, your smile only irritating him further. “No, I wasn’t. I’ll be taking my leave then – see you tomorrow!”

Seems like working in a tattoo studio wouldn’t be so bad.

You came to work the next day early and pumped with adrenaline. The idea of meeting the moody tattoo artist caused you to be giggly and happy the whole day, not even feeling the exhaustion of a long day of hard work as you made your way inside the shop.

Clocking in at exactly two in the morning, you proudly tugged your name badge on top of your left breast, patting it for good luck.

The bells jingled, making you look away from your tag. “Good morning – oh, where’s Megumi?” The man standing in front of you was taller than Megumi, his head nearly knocking over the doorframe if it wasn’t for his poor, slouched lanky frame.

He had white hair that brushed atop his cerulean blue eyes, and your eyes widened because wow, he was beautiful.

“Hey, you must be Y/N! Megumi told me you came around yesterday but he didn’t tell me the counter girl was this pretty,” He was in front of you the next second, his nose nearly grazing over yours that had you leaning back into the wall for space. “Hmm...he didn’t tell me that at all.”

“Oh, thank you. You are...?”

“I’m Gojo Satoru, one of the senior artists here. Since Megumi isn’t here yet, let me give you a tour!” Before you could react, Satoru already had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, his other arm waving and pointing to all the hung paintings and labels on each door. You found it odd that he treated you like you were an old friend, but you weren’t going to complain. Nice co-workers were always welcomed.

“Here is the holding area where clients wait to get their session done. This is Geto’s studio and right next to that is his office where he does all the finances and all that jazz, while this is my studio. Cool, isn’t it?”

Your mouth fell ajar as Satoru led you inside his studio, the walls painted the same aquatic shade of his eyes, but what caught your attention was the galaxy themed tattoo designs he made. They came in different shapes – a volcano head, a dragon, a worm, a four-armed monster – but inside them were all galaxies with sparkling and burning stars. You could see everything and nothing all at the same time.

“Whoa, you made all this?!”

Satoru’s chest puffed out proudly, “Yeah, I did. I’m flattered by your reaction, I really am, but you haven’t seen Megumi’s yet. There’s a reason our salon boomed even though he’s only been working here for two years.”

At the mention of his name, your interest was piqued, all ears and curious smiles directed to Satoru. “Oh, can I see Megumi’s studio?”

“You can – if you book an appointment.”

“But I don’t plan on getting any tattoos,” you frowned.

“You’ll never get to see his work then,” he chuckled to himself, the sound growing louder when you visibly deflated. What was the point of getting your hopes up like that then? “Megumi doesn’t like letting others in his studio without permission or an appointment.”

“Why not?”

“He’s just iffy about it,” he shrugged, “Don’t bother trying to decode his personality anymore, Megumi’s very hard to understand. Though if I were to make sense of it...” he rubbed his chin, eyes looking out into the distance. “I guess you could say Megumi’s not the type to be showy when it comes to his work of art. Did that clear it up?”

You blinked back blankly. “No, not really. But it’s fine – I don’t plan on getting to know him anyway.”

That was the biggest lie of your life.

The moment Megumi came around a few minutes later, a loud groan upon your animated greeting over his arrival, your chest bloomed with a different kind of fluttery warmth. He rarely came out after that, clients swarming in to both his and Satoru’s studios, but each faint glimpse of his door cracking open that allowed you to see him focused as he worked, you could no longer deny the heat burning down your legs.

You crushed on the grumpy tattoo artist.

And the more you came around work, greeting him zealously and teasing him to no end that he’d look hotter if he smiled, your crush only intensified for him – completely unaware that he too, couldn’t get his thoughts off of you even with his door closed.

In fact, he kept his door closed all the time because your voice distracted him too much.

“Hey, Y/N, you free?”

You looked up from the textbook you were reviewing, slamming it shut when Satoru’s head peeked out from his studio. He was still wearing gloves with a pen between his fingers, most likely still in the middle of a session.

“Yep! We don’t have appointments yet and I’ve already closed it for non-appointees. Did you need me to get you something?”

“Yeah, could you get Megumi for me? He isn’t picking his phone up and one of our special clients are coming soon. I’m packed right now so I can’t fetch him. I’ll send you the address and you get him, yeah? Just open the counter if you need money for a cab.”

You blinked owlishly at him. On one side, you’d be more than glad to see Megumi again. He hadn’t arrived despite it being four in the morning already, and you were worried, but you also didn’t have his number to ask how he was doing. Progress with Megumi was...slow, to say the least.

He still holed himself up in his studio, coming out only for bathroom breaks, although you noticed a drastic improvement when he finally began to mutter an almost shy “good morning” under his breath for the past few weeks.

It wasn’t much, but you’d have to make do.

“Uhm, when is this client of his coming? Should I run...?”

“Yeah, you need to fucking run. They’re coming in an hour and a half!” Satoru exclaimed, flailing his hands around like a madman.

Even after working with him for some time, you still couldn’t believe the older man was practically a man child, even asking for head pats sometimes. He would lean down with a pout, using a squeaky voice to call your attention, which always succeeded in Megumi fake gagging before he locked himself inside his studio.

“Forwarded you his address. Really sorry for the inconvenience, Y/N!”

“It’s okay!” you jumped out of your seat in an instant, not bothering to take your name tag off anymore as you left the salon, hailing the nearest cab.

Megumi lived quite far from the salon, which had you wondering why he chose to work there when there were plenty of salons in his area too. His place looked shady, as well, his apartment in a high-rise building with endless graffiti and several drunk stragglers hooting for you.

You ignored them all, taking two steps at a time from his staircase, your hands on your knees as you panted for air. Why did he have to live on the tenth floor?

“Megumi! Megumi!” you banged your fist on the door, throat parched from your sudden cardio session. You were sure you burned ten calories just from that sprint, and you sighed in relief when Megumi swung the door open, still looking handsome – and sleep-deprived – as ever in his black shirt and black skinny jeans.

“What?” he demanded. After seeing that it was you, he quickly snatched a water bottle and passed it your way, closing his door behind him. “Y/N? What are you doing here? How’d you know where I live?”

“Satoru said you had a really important client. You weren’t picking your phone up so he sent me to come get you.”

“It’s my day off,” he grumbled, answering your silent questions, your worries dissipating into thin air. Once you’d satisfied yourself by basically dunking the entire bottle, Megumi rolled his eyes, his hands flat on the small of your back while he guided you downstairs. The sudden touch flamed your cheeks; a stupid smile on your face. You were shameless, though, leaning back closer to him in the darkness of the early morning. “Why does he send a girl out of all people?”

“Something wrong with that?”

“It’s unsafe. My neighbourhood isn’t the best and who knows what would’ve happened to you if some goons came out?” Megumi hailed for a back, surprising you when he let you get in first and paid for the fee despite your outstretched hand prepared with the bills. “I can’t believe Sukuna chose this day to come of all times. I can never get a damn break.”

“Sukuna?”

“A special client. He’s a really huge tipper and comes on odd schedules – I didn’t think he’d come now.”

“Yeah, I checked the papers and he wasn’t there,” you frowned to yourself.

Megumi pressed his head against the window, eyes closed as his chest heaved up and down rhythmically. With the sun slowly shining from behind you, the golden stretches of it outlined his sharp features you adored, and you rested your chin on your palms, eyelashes fluttering at his beauty. “You know, Megumi, you’re really pissy sometimes – but you’re quite nice, aren’t you? I’d say you were even worried for me.”

He cracked one eye open, those blue eyes still shining with irritation, but make no mistake since his ears were flushed red. “I’m not. I just don’t want to be involved in a police investigation if they find your body near here.”

“How sweet of you.”

“Shut up.”

You and Megumi were beginning to get closer. You couldn’t pinpoint where he started to grow more comfortable with you, but it was definitely there and it was painfully evident that even someone stupid like Satoru noticed the sexual between you two.

He would always sniff the air whenever you and Megumi sat next to each other during lunch breaks, a wide grin on your face while Megumi buried his face in his hands, groaning because he knew the moment Satoru opened his mouth, nothing but dumb comments would come out. And dumb comments they were; the white-haired man merciless as he teased Megumi for acting like a cute little kid around you.

You never took it to heart, though. It was Megumi you were talking about; he was hot and cold; sweet then distant from one moment then an entire person the next.

Not that you minded, it only added to your fuelling crush on him, but you couldn’t control the way your heart fluttered every time Satoru whispered that he did like you, excusing that Megumi just wasn’t the best with words. Apparently, Megumi had spent too much time holed up in his apartment and studio that he had zero to little knowledge on how to talk to pretty girls – especially one that was clearly attracted to him as well.

Satoru encouraged you to go for it – that you should confess or break the ice first otherwise Megumi would never do anything about his raging boner every time you came around.

You only flushed at his statement, but you couldn’t deny that you too felt the same way.

One morning where Satoru and Geto were out restocking supplies, you and Megumi were left alone in the salon. Of course, he still resorted in the comfort of his studio, muttering under his breath that he wanted to try some designs before disappearing. Only this time, he left the door slightly open, the lights peeking through the slight crack.

Walking up to him with muted footsteps, you leaned over his shoulder, glancing over a sketch of...you? “Are you drawing me?”

Megumi yelped at your voice right next to his ear, throwing the paper away on the other side of the room before glaring at you. You laughed at his reaction, because how was it possible he was both so criminally sexy yet adorable? He looked terribly gorgeous today, as well, wearing a short sleeved black hoodie and black sweatpants, looking so comfortable and boyfriend like – and you couldn’t even begin to express your appreciation over his new lip piercing.

“Why do you always sneak up on me?” he snapped, “Didn’t I tell you I wanted privacy?”

“Then why aren’t you pushing me away?”

Megumi sighed exasperatedly, turning back to organize his pencils before glaring at you. “What do you want? Got no one else to bother since Satoru isn’t around?”

“I just wanted to see your art,” you mentioned, but kept your eyes directed on him instead of the plethora of sketches and designs hanging from his wall as to not offend him. “Satoru told me to never come inside. He said you’re really...private when it comes to your works,” you furrowed your brows at the last part, feeling your heart beat pulse at your tongue.

It was now or never.

“Can I see your tattoos too?”

“Why do you want to see them?”

“A work of art on a canvas who’s also a work of art himself?” you finally gained confidence to tease him again, getting riled up further when Megumi stiffened at your curious hands travelling under his shirt. His breath sharpened as his glare only deepened, though he didn’t make a move to stop you. “Why wouldn’t I want to see that?”

“Being flirty doesn’t work on you. It’s not cute.”

“You’re blushing though,” you remarked. Megumi groaned and pushed your face away until your buttocks landed on his recliner. Satisfied with Megumi not completely kicking you out, you swung your legs back and forth, still staring at his hoodie as if it was an offensive material.

“Can I...see?” Megumi rolled his eyes before he lifted his shirt up, revealing to you intricate patches of black ink splattered over ripples of muscles. Your mouth salivated, and somewhere down there, you drooled too. Tentatively, your hands reached out to finger the image of canines, Megumi shuddering over your cold touch on his warm skin. “It’s beautiful. What does it mean?”

Megumi pursed his lips before whispering, “These are the dogs I had as a child. My father got me them so I wouldn’t be too lonely when he’s away from work.”

“They’re very pretty. They look like black and white wolves,” you smiled, elated that he was opening up in more ways than one. Your touch flitted over to a winged creature under his left collarbone, small letters beside the image. “And this bird? Nue? He’s so majestic,” Your hands never stopped in trailing over his skin like a lost wanderer, sweeping over ink ink until Megumi completely discarded his hoodie to the side, his back faced to you.

A white viper tattoo stood large on his broad back, crawling until over his shoulder with the fangs ending just above his pecs. Megumi swallowed at each slivering touch, your fingers dipping and caressing every dent and curve of his body.

You couldn’t get your eyes off of him, your breath hitching in your throat as one of your hands gripped his biceps subconsciously. “You’re so beautiful.”

Megumi stiffened when your thumbs grazed over his nipple right next to the viper’s fang. Almost as if a switch was triggered inside him, Megumi growled, ducking to capture your lips with his in a sloppy, heated kiss. His hands tugged at the ends of your hair to arch your neck to him, his knees slapping your legs open before he settled comfortably between you, his low groans mixing with your breath moans.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. From the moment I met you,” he nibbled your lips, hands trailing down to thumb at your hipbones. “I knew that innocent good girl look was nothing but an act.”

You smiled through the kiss, a tiny gasp falling from your lips when Megumi pulled you closer until your heat grinded against the hardness inside his pants. Laughing at his harsh movements, you let Megumi tilt your head back, his lips sucking and teeth gently nipping at the sensitive flesh of your neck.

“Innocent girl?” you echoed, legs now wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. “What makes you think I am?”

“White lace panties? Short tennis skirts and sunshine smiles?” Megumi clenched his teeth, his hands eager as he tugged the white lace down until it looped to your ankles. You gasped, back arching when he thrusted two fingers inside you, curling and fingering against your bumpy walls. “You’re not fooling anyone, baby, especially not me.”

“Took you long enough to understand I wanted you though,” you chuckled through broken moans, eyes shut tight while your legs opened wider, heels digging into the hard cushion of his seats. “I was wondering when I’d get to break you from that tough guy act of yours and have you fuck me good,” Megumi growled at your words. You leaned forward to scratch at his chest, your tongue licking the shell of your ear as you rasped, “And on a side note, I am a good girl – only to those who can make me feel good, of course.”

Megumi cupped his palm to collect your arousal dripping of his, finally shutting you up when his fingers grazed over your sweet spot that had you clenching around him. And those were just his fingers. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded smugly, hands coming up to tug harshly at his hair. Megumi hissed at the sharp pain, prompting him to fuck his fingers in and out of you faster until you leaked down to his chair, thighs trembling and your high-pitched moans coating the walls of his stupid. “Megumi, ah! Just shut up and fuck me already – been wanting you long enough.”

“Needy little girl,” He pressed you down on the reclining seat, settling between your legs before he spread your lips open with two thumbs. At the sight of your bare cunt clenching around nothing, Megumi groaned, teeth biting his lip because he could cum right then and there. “Fuck, look at you. So wet already,” he ran a hand over your slit to collect your arousal, eyes dark with lust as your juices webbed between his fingers. “All this for me? You’re so good.”

“Fuck – yeah, yeah I am,” you leaned back harder into the seat, groping at your own breasts while you nodded dumbly, too fucked out to even form a coherent response. “Going to be good for you, Megumi, gonna make you feel good.”

“Sorry, babe, maybe next time. I’m too impatient to not feel your pussy around me,” he pushed away at your hands that planned to pump his cock, his hand coming down to push you hard against the seat until his weight loomed over you.

You felt Megumi begin to align his tip at your center, dampening his mushroom head with your arousal first that had you both moaning left and right.

Hands scratching down his back as your teeth dug into your lips, Megumi pushed into you with one thrust, the sudden stretch making your legs shake and your body writhe underneath him. “Shit, why are you so tight? So fucking warm and perfect,” he rasped next to your ear, and you could hear how hard he was breathing as he thrusted into you, his cock hitting all the right places.  “Could fuck this pretty pussy all day, baby, shit.”

“Me-Megumi – t-too big!”

“Shh, you’ll be fine. You’ll take it like a good girl, won’t you?” he cupped your cheek, grinning sinisterly as he watched the way your greedy walls sucked him in. “See how you take me so well? You’re so small and pretty wrapped around my cock. I could break you if I wanted you,” he growled, his hands gripping hard at your hips when you clenched around him, enticing the man above you to quicken his pace.

Megumi watched with a lust filled gaze as your breasts bounced at the relentless pace he started, his balls slapping at your ass. “Oh, you’d want that, wouldn’t you? You want to be stuffed with my fat cock in you? Fuck you until you’re a drooling mess? You’re so gorgeous when I fuck you stupid.”

“Yes, Megumi, agh. Keep going, keep going, I’m so close!”

“Oh, you feel like heaven around me,” he praised at your neck, his cock stretching you wide and pushing into you. Megumi groaned lowly at your ear as his palms flattened over your stomach that bulged every time he thrusted in, his balls tightening at the sight. “Look at how big I am for you, baby, but you’re doing so well. You were made for me – made to take my cock, shit, you’re so perfect around me. Gonna make you feel good, yeah? You’re such a good girl for me. Cum, baby, that’s right – I’m allowing you to cum.”

“Gumi, Gumi, fuckkk,” your legs tightened around him as Megumi panted with each harsh thrust, the black marks over his skin expanding and stretch when his forearm rested beside your head. His muscles clenched as he fucked into you deep, over and over again until he pushed you over the edge.

A silent sob left your lips when you came around him, your juices creaming around his cock. A few thrusts later, Megumi fell on top of you as you felt him spill his seed inside you.

He had too much that you felt both your cum dripping down your ass; Megumi pulling out with a slight wince from the oversensitivity. You struggled to catch your breath as you laid there, legs wide open and the cool air hitting your bare pussy. The door was still open, and Satoru and Geto could walk in on you both looking like this, but you couldn’t care, not when you could barely feel your legs.

You dropped your arm over your face, hearing Megumi pull his pants back up. “That was...”

“Intense?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, wincing as you sat up. Your hair stuck to your forehead in sweaty clumps, dawning on you now that you were still very much covered in your sticky cum. You recoiled from the seats as you realized Megumi hadn’t even put on a towel underneath.

“Shit. Is this chair even clean?”

“I sanitize it every after session. Don’t worry about it,” he rolled his eyes, his tattoos covered and hidden from your sight once more when he pulled his hoodie over his head. Megumi retrieved a clean towel from his drawers and wiped at your sensitive pussy, your legs immediately closing around his hands when the towel accidentally grazed your clit.

Megumi gripped your knees with a silent glare. “Stay still. I’m cleaning you up.”

“I didn’t peg you as an aftercare guy. Thought you would leave me hanging here,” you teased, but really, you were feeling warm all over again as you watched Megumi wipe you all the way down to your other hole, your legs still tensing up.

Once he left to wash his hands, you could relax, tugging your panties back up with immense struggle. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d fuck you good – you could barely feel your legs now.

“And have you make a mess by ruining my seat?” he sighed as he returned, helping you seady yourself while he snapped the slightly soaked panty back to your core. “No thanks.”

“You’re so mean, Megumi. I’m hurt.”

He rolled his eyes at your pout, leaning down to kiss you square on the lips. This time around, the kiss wasn’t rushed; it was slow and sensual, firm yet gentle, and his hands carefully massaged your sore hips that would soon bruise from his grip before.

“No, you’re not,” he mumbled through your lips, mimicking that lovesick smile on your face as he pulled away. “But babe, you know the rules. Now that you’ve seen my work of art – what tattoo would you like me to give you? My name on your inner thigh?”

[iloveyou3thousand]

peter has taken a job as a phone sex operator to make some more money and they end up talking to tony.

This was so much fun to write and tbh I have many more ideas for this AU. Enjoy!

CW: phone sex, bottom Peter/top Tony & praise kink? maybe?

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Peter always knew that the option was there, he just figured it would be a last resort type of thing. Something for when his savings ran completely dry and he’d start to feel guilty for showing up at his aunt’s so often just so he wouldn’t have to worry about what he’d have for dinner.

He always got a lot of spam in the mail, flyers for new restaurants or other businesses and pamphlets from the closest church. He never really looked through the piles that were shoved in his mailbox but the one time he actually did and came across a very specific flyer, he felt persuaded just to give it a shot, for the sheer coincidence of it all.

It just happened that he’d been driving around on a bike with a wheel that kept going flat no matter how many times Peter looked for the leak and patched up the tire, and he was starting to grow frustrated with it – but he knew that a new tire would set him back about thirty bucks. In his situation, that wasn’t something he could really afford if the bike still technically worked.

But maybe with a new job…

Peter had no idea if he’d be good at it, or if he’d get hired at all, but he gave it a shot. The interview went much more smoothly than he had expected. The lady on the phone didn’t ask for any kind of demo or previous experiences, but just went through the contract with him and how their company operated. Peter had expected it to be much…shadier. And Peter didn’t lose his cool once. Well, except for when the lady asked if he could do any accents, but luckily she couldn’t see his face as he tried to answer as truthfully as he could.

In the week after, once the contract was agreed upon and signed, Peter got a setup sent to his home.

He was nervous to try it out the first few times. His very first conversation only lasted ten minutes, and Peter saw bright red by the end of it, sitting on the edge of his bed with his heart in his throat – but the thought that he’d just made 30 bucks just from one conversation alone kept him going. That was his tire, sorted.

After a while, he got used to things more and more. He did his reading, practiced new accents while working one of his other jobs, studied kinks he never even knew existed during his time off. As a matter of fact, he was having more fun with his new job than he thought he ever had delivering pizzas. Even if he sometimes had to pretend he was into things that he definitely wasn’t into at all.

One customer had asked him if he was new to the job. He didn’t know how to respond at first, fudging for a moment, but then coming clean because what else was he supposed to say? It was a nice man, very polite in their conversation, with a lovely, low voice, and he’d been very courteous about the fact that Peter hadn’t done this very often. Peter kind of expected to be given pointers or something, like he’d been doing it all wrong, but their conversation ended with the man bidding him a very good night, and saying he’d be back for more some time.

And he was.

The next week on the same night and around the same time, the man called again. Peter recognized his voice immediately.

“It’s nice to hear you again, sir,” he said, finding himself smiling, for whatever reason.

“It’s nice to hear you too, sweetheart. I have to admit I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

Peter was used to some clients flirting with him by now, but this one made him smile.

Usually, clients either wanted to explore kinks they couldn’t explore in real life for ethical reasons, or they wanted to just have someone to talk to, to connect with, and it didn’t always end in sex.

This man seemed like he wanted that connection rather than the sex, although Peter wasn’t about to rule anything out just yet.

They talked about the man’s day for a little while, and although Peter often wondered if the people he was talking to actually enjoyed this, the stranger didn’t seem like he was ready to wrap up at any point. He mentioned a project he was working on and Peter got a little curious, asking about it with the other revealing more and more information which Peter eagerly absorbed and reciprocated with interests of his own, until the client fell quiet for a moment.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” he said after a few moments of silence, and Peter made an encouraging little sound, “I’ve never had someone like you keep up with me like that.”

Peter chuckled and teased his client about it. They talked for a little while more until the man once again bid him a good night, and left Peter to get through the rest of his calls. The next week was the same.

Peter was… a little disappointed when the next Friday night after that rolled around and no call came. But hey, maybe his client had been impacted by the latest alien attack in New York one way or another. He hoped he was alright, at least.

Instead, Peter received a call on Saturday afternoon, the second he started his shift. He was tired from an afternoon of work, but he was committed to this job and to the hours he made, and the pay was proving to help out a great deal. He wasn’t about to drop it.

“My name is Tony,” he said before Peter could even greet him. He immediately recognized the voice.

“Hi Tony. I missed you yesterday. How are you?” Peter asked politely. Something about the way Tony sighed in response didn’t sit right with him. He sounded tired. Like he hadn’t slept. Like he was hurt, maybe, too, one way or another. Peter hoped he hadn’t gotten hurt during the attack. He knew from their previous conversations that Tony lived somewhere in New York City, just like he did.

“I want you to pretend like you’re sitting in my lap,” Tony replied, and it was a change of pace, but not something that Peter couldn’t work with. He hummed his affirmative, and sat up a little straighter where he’d draped himself across his bed, suddenly feeling a little more awake than before. “With my hands on your hips.”

“I love it when you put your hands on my hips,” Peter said almost a little cautiously. He wasn’t sure what to expect from Tony yet. Or from this. “Like the way they’re warm. Will you put them up my shirt?”

Tony gave a quiet grunt of approval, to which Peter sighed, eyes closing and pretending like he was sitting in someone’s lap and their hands pushed his shirt up to skim softly up over his ribs. He didn’t have much experience to draw from, but he had a vivid imagination, and imagining this for Tony came almost entirely naturally.

“Here, I’ll sit a little closer ‘til our chests touch. You like that, Tony? Like to be close to me?”

Peter was testing the waters to try and see what it was that Tony needed right now, but it was hard to tell if he didn’t outright say it. Usually when clients wanted something specific they went ahead and started their conversation with that, and they were usually pretty detailed too, so that Peter could act out their fantasy just the way they liked it. But all Tony had wanted was for him to sit in his lap.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Tony breathed into the phone. Peter wondered if he had his eyes closed and tried to imagine it like he was, or if he sounded so quiet because he was touching himself. Maybe both.

Peter continued to describe how he felt his hands up Tony’s chest, put his fingers through his hair, kissed down his jaw and toward his shoulder until he could bury his face into the crook of his neck as he slowly ground his hips down into Tony’s lap.

He could hear Tony take in a quiet, shuddery breath.

Now that was something he could work with.

As Peter continued to describe what he was ‘doing’, he took careful note of the things Tony seemed to enjoy, jotting them down on a pad on his bedside table. It was valuable information for a potential next time, which Peter had the feeling would likely happen. Tony sounded like he was enjoying himself as Peter described how he slid down to the floor and opened Tony’s jeans.

If he just wanted a blowjob then that’s exactly what he’d get.

But when Peter thought that Tony must have been getting close about ten minutes into their conversation, the man suddenly took the reins.

“Stop,” he said firmly, and Peter went quiet in an instant, eyes a little wide. He’d been so quiet that Peter had had to pry some kind of response out of him sometimes. But Tony was definitely still there.

He told Peter how he grabbed him and pulled him back up into his lap, how Peter was naked and had to be hard by now, and how lovely he looked with his cock standing at attention like that, chest flushed and face hot. Peter swallowed, and dutifully made the appropriate noise, although he found that it came a little…too naturally.

“I’ve got some lube right here,” Tony purred into the phone, “I want you to spread yourself open for me. Right here in my lap. Show me.”

While Peter described how he took the lube and coated his fingers, Tony only interrupted to turn him around so he was facing away from him. “So I can see exactly how well you’re doing.” Peter didn’t protest. In fact, the more he pictured himself in an older man’s lap with two fingers twisting inside of himself he couldn’t deny that his sweats were starting to feel a little too tight for comfort. He trapped the phone between his shoulder and cheek so that he could shimmy out of them, and after a moment’s hesitation, out of his underwear too.

It was probably fine, right? Not like Tony would know. And he only needed one hand to keep the phone to his ear. Or none, if he kept it like it was now, so who cared?

Peter reddened as he wrapped a tentative hand around himself at the same time as he told Tony how he took his cock and lined him up, and as he sank down slowly to swallow him down, the sound that Peter made was genuine. He could only hope that Tony wouldn’t notice.

“God, you feel so good, Tony…” He let out softly, and Tony made a sound that told Peter he was touching himself, too. He had to be.

Peter sat up on his knees on the bed so he could pretend to be rocking back on Tony’s cock, making breathy little noises into the receiver and moaning Tony’s name with every other stroke of his hand. Shamelessly, he thought next time he should have a toy ready so he had something real to sit on. But what if there wouldn’t be a next time?

“Fuck, baby,” Tony keened, “You look so fucking good on my cock like that. You’re beautiful. Stunning, sweetheart. C’mon, go a little faster.”

Peter’s hand on himself sped up. He almost forgot he was supposed to pretend.

“Are you touching yourself?” Tony asked. Peter bit his lip before another moan betrayed him.

“Y-Yes. Yeah. I am.”

Tony was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke again his voice was lower, darker, all in a way that sent every word he said right to Peter’s cock.

“Good,” was all Tony said at first, and then, “I want to hear you come. Think you can do that for me, baby boy?”

Peter shivered and nearly doubled over where he sat on his knees, his thighs going tight in his attempt at staving off the orgasm that was now approaching rapidly.

“I said do you think you can do that for me?” Tony repeated.

Peter whimpered, and nodded, before scrambling to say yes.

“That’s a good boy. I knew you could do it for me. Go on then. I’m waiting. I want to hear you, loud and clear. Show me what you sound like when you fall apart.”

And Peter did. He didn’t spare a single thought to what he was doing when he squeezed his cock and spilled across his bedsheets with an unfiltered moan, thighs quivering as he stroked himself through his orgasm, panting into the phone. He distantly registered that Tony sounded equally breathless when he praised him so softly, voice almost reverting back to a sweeter version of the polite way in which they’d talked before.

Peter felt boneless, knelt on the bed with his hand still around his softening cock, catching his breath.

“Wonderful,” Tony sighed into his ear, “That was wonderful. I knew you’d be good at this.”

He was at a loss for words. Tony chuckled.

“Speechless, sweetheart? That’s fine by me. I had a lovely time. Talk to you next week?”

And with that, Tony ended their call.

Peter slowly took the phone away from his ear before he allowed himself to drop back against the pillows on his bed. His heart was still beating quickly in the aftermath of what had just happened, and he dropped a hand to his chest, feeling his heart thud against his fingertips. He couldn’t believe he just did that. And he couldn’t believe that Tony, who was definitely his absolutely favorite client now if he hadn’t already been, had reacted so positively. He wasn’t sure when he’d last gotten off so damn well.

Holy shit.

He loved his job.

[mimssides]

Life on Crow Avenue: Part 22

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___

Lunch was going well this Friday and Virgil was talking with Logan about good books on pet care for families and kids who wanted to help with the training of their pets. Because of that he almost missed Roman asking Remus about changing the working hours.

“Why would you want to change the opening and closing times?” Virgil asked a little anxiously even though he did not know why he felt anxious right now.

Roman was reacting quicker than Remus was and turned to Virgil with a gentle smile on his lips.

“Oh, we’re thinking about hiring someone working part-time for the store. Ideally, they could also help us with the taxes and stuff but just a helping hand would be a nice start. And if we had help, we could maybe do an evening sale once a week or and open on Saturdays,” Roman explained and suddenly all were staring at him.

Logan, Virgil and Janus seemed a little taken aback while Patton looked slightly overwhelmed though happy. Curiously he let his eyes rest on Remus and saw him subtly nod towards his direction. Patton beamed. The twins had had a talk yesterday night and he felt so happy that things finally were turning around for them. They truly deserved it.

“So, you could maybe have some more free time, I assume?” Patton offered after another beat of silence and Roman directly caught onto his line of reasoning.

“Yeah,” Roman agreed with a wide smile, “that was the plan! We never had that luxury before but I think that we could try to treat ourselves now, right Emi?”

Remus leaned back in his chair and looked uncharacteristically blank from Roman to Patton before he gave a slow nod and added: “Yeah. That’s the idea. The flowers sales are working well and we have a steady number of returning customers. It’s not a bad investment to employ someone now, when were still having everything under control. It’s the best time to make them familiar with the shop.”

“I wasn’t aware that your store was going this well,” Logan said and eyed the brothers with furrowed brows.

At that Remus’s odd behaviour stopped and he snickered, while Roman gasped offendedly. With astounding speaking speed Roman began to rattle down about the flower delivery service, the decoration for different holidays and celebrations, they provided as well as all the advertisements he had made and was still making on social media and the several posters and flyers he had hung up on community boards and distributed around a few retirement homes as well in parks around the aera.

“When did you have time to do all that?” Janus asked as Roman ended and began to eat the pasta he had prepared for them today.

Chewing and gesticulating with his fork Roman answered: “Before the move we had a few days, because we packed everything up rather quickly and then I got to design a few things on our laptop. And when we came here, I did the footwork, when Rem had a bit of help from the movers to get the store in order. It’s an important part of business and mouth to mouth advertisement is really good with clientele but especially older clientele, like ours. And we can’t stop now just because it’s going well. We’ve gotta go with the time and make sure we’re still what our customers want and need.”

“So, you’re basically your own advertisement department?” Janus asked frowning.

“Yeah. It’s important for business. I want to eat and for us to have a home. Can’t be slacking off, can I? Also, I like doing it. Our teacher always let me design new posters for the store and even paid for a and editing program that I still use because I was really good at it. It’s a fun change from – Oh, do you think I could hang up a job application ad at the board from the theatre group? Or would Rodriguez not like that?”

Janus almost had a whiplash from the sudden change of topic but then confirmed that Roman very likely wouldn’t have any objections against that. Roman seemed to be more than happy about it and the group returned to their lunch and previous conversations.

___

A week later Janus and Roman went to the meeting of their theatre group. Roman had offered to drive him, so Virgil didn’t have to or that Janus didn’t have to drive himself, as he apparently wasn’t a good driver and didn’t like to drive. To Janus it was a rather welcome development and he liked sitting on the co-driver’s seat and watching Roman behind the wheel.

When they arrived, nothing was out of the ordinary; they greeted their friends, asked how everyone was, just the causal small talk until all where here and they could start with the current meeting.

The time flew by and soon their meeting had reached the end. They were all sticking around for a bit and Roman took his chance to talk with Rodriguez about the ad he wanted to hang up and went to talk with him in the backroom where they stored some props. Janus used that opportunity to gather the rest and finally speak with Samantha.

“Okay, I need to be quick but I have a small request, Sammy dearest,” Janus began and the whole group was already curiously listening.

“What is it Jay?” Samantha asked rather suspiciously of the sweet tone.

Unbothered by her visible distrust Janus answered: “You will be out of town at the 4th, as you usually are, I assume?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to remind you all of-”

“Do me a favour and do not do that. I would like to surprise Roman with something. And as I know him, he won’t let himself have some additional downtime which means I will have to trick him into it. And for that I could use the meeting as an excuse, if you would not inform him that it’s not taking place.”

Samantha blinked several times before she frowned at him and raised an eyebrow in a disapproving manner.

“I won’t help you seduce this him, Jay. I’m not an accomplice to your playboy stick,” she told him.

Janus let out a groan and he shot a vicious look the tree women that snickered at his predicament.

“For once I’m not trying to do that, Sam! He – He needs something for himself and I doubt that a one-night stand is what that is or that he would even be interested in that. I really just want him to have something nice. He’s been through a lot lately and I don’t think he’s really taking care of himself. Just don’t say anything to him. I’ll do the rest. It’s all I ask of you.”

Samantha scrunched her nose. She wouldn’t say she was Janus’s friend but she liked the man well enough. He was a cynical and sarcastic character and he was a decent improviser and actor. And she did respect him, despite his casual anecdotes of sleeping with random men once in a while. She looked over his shoulder and saw Roman and Rodriguez coming back.

Roman was not any random man to her. He was charming and passionate about what they were doing here. He was definitely talented but more importantly he was a hard worker. He tried harder than the others and put a lot more effort and time in the little practices they did. And other than that, she simply liked him. So, she took a leap of faith and nodded to Janus and shot the rest of them a look to keep their mouths shut about this.

Gratefully, Janus gave her a nod of acknowledgement before he turned towards Roman who walked towards him with a big smile.

“I assume, I will have to wait as you are hanging up your flyer?” Janus asked playfully and Roman shoved him softly.

“A flyer? What for?” Renee asked.

Roman turned towards the middle-aged woman. She was Celia’s friend and drove her here. Curiously she watched as Roman showed her the piece of paper he was going to hang up close to the door.

“Job application? You look for someone working in your store?”

Roman nodded and explained: “Yes! It’s going well and we could use a helping hand.”

Renee’s eyes wandered over the paper and she looked back up at him.

“This is a part-time job for a flower shop, do I see that right?”

“Yes. If you know someone who would be interested, please let them know! The payment and workload will be discussed in the interview with me and my brother, if you were wondering,” Roman explained as his tone got a little more serious.

Renee nodded and studied the paper a little longer. The she glanced back up at him and scratched the side of her nose.

“I used to work in a flower boutique and my youngest is up to college now. I’ve got the time for a job to be honest but I’d like to know why you decided to hire now? You haven’t been open very long, not even a year, as I understand it. Why didn’t you hire someone from the beginning or do it later?”

Janus watched Roman’s expression grow serious. The others hadn’t seen him like that before. Even when he plays a serious character it has no resemblance with the person that was standing here in front of them now. This, Janus assumed, was businessman Roman. The Roman that was concerned with his and his brother’s survival and would do what it takes to get them through.

And suddenly it slipped. He grew softer again and looked sheepishly to the side before telling her patiently: “We are writing black numbers and have already established a number of returning customers. But it is getting a bit much since it requires both of us to work with little to no breaks. So, it is a decision for my and especially my brother’s mental health. If you are interested in the position, further information will be disclosed at the given time.”

Renee looked at him rather surprised. Roman simply cracked a grin and huffed, walking past her towards the entrance where he could hang up the ad.

“But do not apply if you’re not a hard worker! We won’t take you just because I know you and you have some free time to fill!” he called over his shoulder and Cecilia and a few others started to laugh while Renee didn’t look too amused about that comment.

Janus just looked after him and let his words from before go through his head. There had been something hanging around the twins and Janus hadn’t been able to point his finger on it. Now he had something to go off and when Roman and he told the others goodbye and drove back home, Janus took the chance to make sure he was assuming the right thing.

“I suppose that there would be a reason as why you wouldn’t tell me and you certainly don’t have to now, but did something happen with Remus and you that you are doing this for your mental health?” Janus asked as they stopped at a red light.

Finger tapping. Roman’s fingers were tapping on the wheel and his eyes directed to the street while he occasionally glanced to the rear mirrors. He pressed down the gas pedal as the red light went green and Janus assumed that this was the end of the conversation. But as the had left the crossroad, Roman cleared his throat and Janus turned to look at him.

“Rem’s going to a therapist every Thursday. He scheduled it himself, made all the calls. I only learnt about it when he asked me if he could leave earlier to go to the meeting. He isn’t super comfortable to tell everyone that he is going, which is why we hadn’t said anything yet. So, please don’t tell Virgil or Logan.”

Janus faltered. He hadn’t expected that. He hadn’t expected to see Remus going through with it. Not that he didn’t want he to get better but the possibility of Remus actually trying to do some work on his mental health had seemed so impossible in his mind.

“Is the silence a sign of disbelief?” Roman asked with a grin.

With a fake cough Janus tried to regain his composure.

“I wouldn’t say disbelief...”

“It’s fine. Quite frankly-” Roman paused as they stopped at another red-light and looked to Janus with such a unbelieving and yet relieved expression – “I’d had lost hope a good while ago. For him truly getting better. Parts of my head already trying to accommodate myself to a life where he no longer would be. Not that I think I could live a life without him but – Well. Now he’s trying and I think it’s worth to try and believe in him.”

Janus was left speechless. Roman was a lot of things; brave, enthusiastic, idealistic, hot-headed and a hard worker. He was not a quitter. He was not a guy like Janus who gave up when he realized something would get too complicated or too hard.

But maybe that thought wasn’t quite fair to Roman. Because Roman was human. He had lived a rather eventful and traumatizing life; he had fought his way up to this very moment but how often had he fallen back? How often did he fail at the things he deemed too important to fail at? Even the hardest optimist had their limits. And Roman had almost lost his brother four times now. The only thing that he had been able to rely on for so long. And Roman had just told him something that Remus had explicitly told Roman not to tell other people.

“Why did you tell me?” Janus asked as they reached their destination and Roman had parked his car.

Roman turned and looked at him while unbuckling his seatbelt. He met Janus’s gaze and paused in his movements for a minute.

“I am scared too. Not only him. This feels like a last chance and it’s nagging on my brain. I needed to tell someone who isn’t him or Pat. And so, I told you. Because I trust you.”

Janus just stared into Roman’s dark brown eyes. He wasn’t sure if he was still breathing or if he had stopped but in this moment he didn’t care. He couldn’t care. All his mind was telling him in this moment was that he was looking at Roman, who trusted him and that he was entirely uncertain as of why he did trust him.

“I don’t understand,” Janus said with a dry mouth. “I - I acted inconsiderately after Remus’s attempt. I was not helpful to you in that moment when you needed me most and-”

“That was this evening. That one evening. And yeah, it was a big thing but it was big for us all. Stressful for us all. And you have your story and baggage too. I cannot expect of you to act perfectly in that situation. And I don’t. Not when you excelled in every moment after. You were kind and understanding and I appreciate it a lot. You let me hold your hand. You came for me and it’s been a while since anyone came just for me.”

Nothing terrible should happen to Roman ever again. No one should ever hurt him again. He should never be in danger again. And Janus would do whatever was in his power to secure that he decided in that very moment, as he looked into Roman’s eyes and just gave a nod before he got out of the car.

They parted ways. Janus got ready for the set in James’ bar and after he had played for the night, he sat down to the gang’s usual table. Listened to Logan talk with Roman over classic literature, greeted Virgil when he joined them later on and made sure to keep an eye on Roman for the whole evening.

___

Virgil and Janus had decided to have a movie night this Saturday evening and Janus was now in the kitchen getting the second batch of chips during one of the cheaper vampire movies he had ever seen in his life. And due to his nephews love of such movies, he had seen a fair share of them.

Whistling a tune Janus checked his phone and to his dismay found another message of Juno. She had been on his case for the last few days and normally he had little problem to blend her badgering out, but not when it was about this. He sighed, pushed the message away and got back to Virgil in the living room. Unceremoniously, he flicked the light switch on and got Virgil’s attention.

With a frown Virgil looked over and as Janus waved with his phone, while putting the chips bowl down on their coffee table, he had a hunch what was going on.

“Did Mom write you about something?” Virgil asked and pulled his legs onto the couch to hug them against his chest.

Janus clicked his tongue and put his hand next to the bowl before he bitterly smirked to Virgil.

“I get that she’s your Mom and that she worries and that you talk with her about stuff that weighs you down,” Janus began in the calmest voice he could muster. “But did you really have to talk with her about what happened to the twins? She’s bugging me about it since you did and asks regularly if something else happened and if it worries you or makes you sick.”

Virgil’s expression darkened the more Janus spoke and when he had finished Virgil pressed his face against his knees and groaned in agony.

“I told her not to freak out! I really said that I’m fine, uncle J! I – I just- I’m sorry she’s giving you a hard time! I just wanted to talk with her about – about you know? We almost lost Remus and we had no idea! It – it-” Virgil tried to explain but couldn’t quite finish.

Sighing Janus moved closer to his nephew and put his hand on his knee, drawing little circles on it.

“I get it, chief. I do. It’s a heavy load those two brought with them. And you were brave enough to still choose to interact with them, while I shied away from it at first. I’m just annoyed by her, you know. She always dots you and she really isn’t talking nicely about neither Roman nor Remus even though neither is responsible for all of that. She cannot see that though and maybe you could try and not mention them too much to her for the moment? Just so I could get a little peace of mind for now?”

“Yeah, sure… I’m sorry about her. She always makes it hard on you, even though you’re not responsible for me.”

Janus smiled and Virgil looked up again and rested his chin on his knees.

“You’re her only baby. She’s worried,” Janus replied and ruffled through his hair with a fond grin. “Not everyone has the best son on earth, you know.”

“Oh, shut up!” Virgil squealed and hid his head again by pressing it against his knees.

Janus snickered and put the movie back on to get Virgil out of hiding. It worked and the two continued watching the movie in silence. Virgil ended up huddling against Janus’s side and he kept “stealing” chips from his bowl even though Janus had it brought for the two of them.

“Are you worried about her disliking Roman?”

Janus looked over to Virgil with a frown. His nephew smirked a little and continued: “Because she might give you shit once you’re together with him?”

Groaning Janus shoved Virgil to the side and listened him giggle at his theatrics just to shove him back into the upper arm. Janus bickered for a moment to which Virgil only rolled his eyes and eventually flicked his arm again, so Janus would stop.

“Listen,” Virgil said as Janus rubbed his arm in pretended pain, “it’s fine that you like him.”

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do and don’t interrupt me. He’s a sweet guy. And you keep insisting that he doesn’t need a relationship now but you shouldn’t decide for him if that’s the case. He should get a say in it too. I mean like, if I shouldn’t get doted on, he shouldn’t either, am I right?”

Janus said nothing to that and Virgil knew that he had one this argument. He settled down again and they kept watching the end of the movie before putting in Mary Poppins after Janus’s request.

___

@varthandi

@sammy-is-obsessed / @exhaustedfander

@alexisrealgay

@softie-sushi

@wolfs-feder

@just-a-neoclassical-painting

@winter-jay-official

@a-ghostlight-for-roman

@mychemically-imbalanced-romance

@whattheremus

Tagged for this fic:

@frawkeye

@arodynamic-enby

@espepspes

@bullet-tothefeels

@fukindork

@shadeofadye

@magic-but-its-green

@a-non-binary-pan

@simone-the-weird-person

[christineeej94]

Neighbors ❤

Arón Piper x Reader

a/n: I appreciate all the likes i got for my first attempt and now I want to write another one, a little bit longer and more interesting. I hope you guys gonna like it and I wait for your requests. Kisses 🌻

Content: The reader is moving to Spain, she meets Aron by chance because they live in the same block. They are starting to see each other very often and after a few weeks they become a couple.

Warnings: bad writing and some inappropriate language. 

Word count: 1732 

♠♠♠♠♠

When I decided that I want to move to Spain I don't know what was on my mind. It was a radical decision and now I'm in new apartment who has a beautiful view of Madrid's streets. I like to seat here, drink a cup of coffee, read a book or just admire the breathtaking view.

  I admit that this city is so mesmerizing and full of life, but I'm alone, I live my family in Italy and come here to find something. I leaved everything, my home, my family and my job at the gallery to find something now, an adventure. I'm looking for inspiration for my paintings and I think here I can find it. Today I want to spend my time on streets with my camera and take pictures of people, animals or whatever I consider that deserve to be painted. I dressed with a colorful dress and some sandals. I pinned my hair in a pony tail and I take anything I need for this walk. I locked my apartment and I start going down the stairs. When I went outside the bright sun blinded me for a few seconds so I put some sunglasses and start walking to nowhere. Today is a great day to get some inspiration and the locals are already on streets and at the local markets. I photographed some kids eating ice cream, an old couple reading a newspaper on a bench and a lady at the flower shop. Walking down to the historical center I seen three guys at a table and they were drinking a coffee. I wanted to photograph this state but the sunlight blocked my view.  They look so handsome and very masculine. I took courage and come closer to them table.

A blonde guy, a boy with black hair and another one with brown curly hair are looking curiously at me when I got in front of them.

"Hi, I'm (Y/N) and I'm a professional photographer and also a painter. May I take some photos of you?" “I promise it will be quick” They are looking at me like I am a crazy lady. Maybe I’m but that’s another story.

They smiled at me and starting to talk to each other in Spanish. I didn't understand a word and now I realize that maybe they didn't understand me in the first place.

“First, I’m Miguel” the blonde one present himself. “He is Itzan and he is Arón” Miguel pointed first the black hair guy who smiled at me, then the curly boy who looks so good.

"Nice to meet you." I smiled. "Can I start?"

They approve and I ask them if they can be natural like I was not there. The boys are really born to be models because the final result was amazing. After I finished i give them my contact data if they want the photos. Miguel and Itzan were very excited and I talked with they a little. They explained me that they are actors and it is very regular for them to be photographed.   That beautiful guy, Arón, didn't talk at all and he was already gone after a we finished. I was happy that I met these nice guys and I ensured them that if they need something, they can call me. 

When I have arrived home, it was already dark outside. I made a bowl of instant noodles and I stayed on my balcony, watching the light and enjoying my diner.  I googled for the three boys I met today and I’m surprised and shock because they are famous. All of them are acting in this series called “ ÉLITE”. I start watching the first episode when load voices and extremely load music are coming from my neighbor above me. It’s half past the midnight so it’s late for a party, especially in the middle of the week. I put a hoodie on my summary pajamas and I walked up the stairs to my neighbor’s door. I hit hard the black door and after a few minutes a tall boy with curly black hair was sitting in front of me with a beer in his hand, smirking at me.

“Can I help you, princesa?” I don’t say anything because I didn’t understand what he’s saying.

“You are shy? Come in, the party is already started” He speaks in English this time and he drags me inside. “I’m Jorge by the way”

“I’m your neighbor, (Y/N)” I finally speak and we enter in a room full of people who are dancing and drinking. “Sweetheart, I don’t live here, I’m just a guest” he explains and I want to leave, I’m not welcome here and I don’t know who own this apartment.

“Hey, Jorge, who is she” a familiar voice is heard from behind I turn around. Miguel is sitting in front of me with people I don’t know, but I recognize some faces from the “ÉLITE” first episode. Miguel looks surprised to see me there. “(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” He is happy to see me and I’m also happy to see him. He hugged me and present me to the group. “But seriously, what are you doing here?” “I live in the apartment below.” “I didn’t know you are living here, Miguel, I apologize for the inconvenience” He looks confused for a second. “I’m not living here, Arón is” he explained. “Stay, we are gonna have so much fun.” I looked down to myself and I've seen a very messy outfit which is not appropriate for this kind of party.

“Hey, is that the girl from the coffee shop?” “¡Ai, que hermosa!” Arón screams from the terrace and he’s walking like a zombie to us.

“I apologize for him, he was drinking too much, you know, he got his heart broke.” Miguel support Aron and the curly head boy is sending me kisses. “Maybe I should go home, is pretty late.” “Nice too meet you guys.” I greeted the group of people and I go home.  

All night I couldn't sleep, I only see Arón face in my mind and I can´t stop thinking of him. His beautiful eyes and his smile are so stunning. I don't know him at all but he seems a nice person and I would like to know him. But he is a star and I'm just an ordinary girl. I started my day terribly, I'm tired and I don't feel like getting out of bed too soon. Yesterday I received an email about a job at a fashion magazine and today I’ve to be there at 12 p.m. At half past 11 I was sitting in front of elevator. When I entered Arón was inside looking in his pone. First he didn’t notice me so I decide to greet him.

“Hey.” my voice sound like a strangled cat. “Oh, hey there, (Y/N) right?” I approve and I’m looking in other direction.  He intimidates me with his presence. “I’m sorry for last night, I wasn’t myself.” “It’s alright, I’m used with parties and load people” I said and we get out of elevator. “Where are you going now?” “I'm going to an interview for a job at Cosmopolitan Spain and I am pretty late.”

“Let me drop you, it’s on my way.” I accepted because I was late. In the car he asks me so much questions and we figured out that we have many things in common. “Come with me at a barbeque this weekend, it will be fun and I gonna present you to my friends” He said when he dropped me at the Cosmopolitan offices. “Sure, why not.” I blushed when he winked and smirked at me. "See ya, hermosa." "And good luck."

After two hours I was already home. I slept all day and I woke up when my phone started ringing.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” “I’m calling you from Cosmopolitan offices, congratulations, you got the job, you can start on Monday.”

I was excited when I heard the news. I can’t believe I got the job. I spend the rest of the night dancing and watching my new favorite show.

  After 3 weeks

  I open the door to let my best friend to come in. Arón puts the chips and the beers on the coffee table and sits comfortable on the couch. It's Friday so it's the "Euphoria night". We started together this series and he loves it. I don't like it that much but I adore to spend time with him. Arón it was a good friend for me from the beginning. He is teaching me Spanish and I made a lot of friends here thanks to him. We start know each other very well, but he doesn't know that I like him so bad. We flirt a lot but it’s more like a joke.

“I don’t like that guy, Nate” I commented and he laughed. “It’s a bad guy, (Y/N), you don’t like bad guys?” He smirks at me and I rolled my eyes. “I like you” He takes it like a joke and start laughing. “Pero soy un mal cabrón” he looks at me inappropriately and he smiles suggestively. I love when he is talking in Spanish. “You are such a playboy.” “Of course, that’s my middle name” He shows me his middle finger and I hit him softly in his left arm.

After a few hours we are sitting on my balcony admiring the sunset. I start to love Spain so much and I love the boy next to me who is smoking the fourth cigarette in the past 30 minutes.  He observes that I stare at him and he smiles. “I know I’m beautiful, stop looking at me like that.” “Sorry.”

 “But I don’t outdo you” he takes me in his arms and start singing his lyrics from ‘Vicio’. “What are you doing?” I laugh and he giggles. “I’m singing for my future girlfriend” He answers and I blush. My heart stops beating for a couple of seconds. “What?” I mumbling. He stopped and raised my face. “You are the most beautiful person I ever seen, you are kind and you are so talented” “And I like you like a crazy man” I can’t stop smiling after his declaration. “Do you want to be my crazy woman?” “Of course, mi amor” I answer and we kiss softly.

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Forty-One, “Finally”

*Gifs are not mine*

Clickable Links:

- *NEW* Becky Magazine Cover from an O.C. Tag Challenge c:

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and Character Surveys

- Inspo tag

- Hecky Playlist

- Read on Wattpad

Warnings: None

Word Count: 10.3k words

Song:  You’re Still The One by Shania Twain, bc duh Just Like Heaven by The Cure (click to listen)

A/N: I am SO excited for you to read this chapter, you’ll soon find out why ;)

                                 SNEAKYYYYYY PEEEEEK

For the fiftieth time in the last two days, I couldn’t be more grateful for how easy things are coming together. I couldn’t be more thankful to have him by my side. It still feels like a dream getting to live this life now, and getting to work with him on the daily, singing Spice Girls amidst stolen cheek kisses.

One puzzle piece at a time, and there’s only one or two pieces left in this puzzle of ours.

"And then my soul saw you and it kind of went ‘Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.’"

                             - Iain Thomas, ‘I Wrote This For You’

There was truly nothing that could rock the waves I was currently riding, and I couldn’t wait a second longer to do the very thing that would make them even bigger. They had only climbed since telling Asher earlier this evening, and the smile that shared on our faces. 

Skye was sprawled out on the sofa when I opened the door, finding it impossible to hide the grin on my face as I read a text from Harry that had dinged a moment before. 

i havent been this excited for somethin in a long time bug. absolutely cant wait to see u on friday, idk if i can wait that long ;) good luck on ur case with Myles 2moro, you’ll do great Becks xo

“Well, look who has a pep in her step, all of a sudden. I don’t think I’ve seen you smile in days, since Harry’s left. What’s the occasion, Ree?” she teases, surprising me with the simple act of muting an episode of The Great British Bake Off that our nights consist of as of late. 

“I may have had a good day,” I suggest with a shrug of my shoulders as I put my coat away in the closet. 

“Since bloody when? You were in a shitty mood the last time we spoke, having ‘Harry withdrawals,’ or something. I’d say the only reason you could be happy right now is if you’d seen him, which would be impossible seeing he’s in Glasgow for another few days,” she mutters. I observe the look on her face change and how her eyebrows dance along her forehead after I turn around to face her, letting the smile lose. “Wait, he’s still there, isn’t he?” she questions, reaching a hand out as if looking for an answer with her body, too. 

My head shakes from side to side slowly as my lips part to show my teeth, a rarity among my smiles, and the expression dawning on her face tells me she recognizes it too. “He came back today, his case finished early, Skye. And I asked him out on a date!” 

“You didn’t?! Ree, you better not be kidding with me, or I’m gonna be really pissed at you!” she chuckles, feigning intimidation in her voice. Hints of the emotions buzzing around inside of me play across her face, meanwhile, my happiness keeps growing notch after notch. 

I don’t know if I can wait that long either, Harry, cause I can’t remember the last time I was this excited. Thank you so much xxx

“I’m not kidding, Skye, and he said yes! He didn’t even let me finish asking and he said yes!” I exclaim after sending the text I had been typing, feeling her arms come around me in a shock when I look back up. 

“I’m so fucking happy for you, Ree, it’s about bloody time!” she remarks excitedly, almost crushing me in a hug. 

“Me too, I can’t remember the last time I was this happy,” I admit softly, relaxing in her arms, even though part of me wishes they were the arms of somebody else. Only an hour later, and I already miss him. Wow, I’ve got this bad. 

“Did you kiss him at least?!”

“No, I’m waiting for the date, I guess. I looked like proper crap today, I’ve been up so late the last few nights prepping for the case with Myles,” I laugh, pulling away from her smell of peaches and chocolate when my pocket dings. 

“First kisses aren’t something you plan, Ree, they just happen out of nowhere. The sooner, the better.” 

“I guess you’re right,” I confess with a smile stuck to my lips. “We’ll just see what happens.”

+

Happiness and its synonyms still fill me to the brim an hour later, and whilst my thumbs flit across the screen of my phone. Her words stare back at me, and unbeknownst to me how, I wish I could see her again already. My footsteps wander down the main hallway, and before I know what I’m doing, I arrive at her door. Low and behold, it’s closed and my heart sinks into my chest when I find darkness waiting behind it. 

miss u already bug xoxo

My words are whisked off to her, and soon my legs are entering the doorway of a certain somebody’s office, although not the one I was hoping for.

“It’s about time you made your rounds and came to say hi to me. Should I feel offended I’m the last one on your list?” Myles teases from behind his desk with a grin lining his lips. 

“Oh, shuddup. Did Becks leave already fer tha night?” I question, letting my shoulder fall to the door frame as I watch the small ‘delivered’ appear under my blue text. 

“Yeah, I ran into her about twenty minutes ago in the break room when she was clocking out. What, didn’t you already see her?”

“Ya, she was me first visitor. I was jus’ hopin’ t’ see her ‘gain,” I shrug, well aware of the terrible job I’m doing of hiding the one hundred watt smile I’m wearing. 

“And does that have anything to do with you blinding me with that smile of yours?” he inquires, raising a sandy blonde eyebrow at me. 

“Maybe it has sumthin’ t’ do with me havin’ a date with her on Friday, as of an hour ago,” I reveal casually with a shrug of my shoulders, feeling the smile grow larger somehow. 

“Fucking finally,” Myles chimes with happiness spreading across his face, and I nod quickly. 

“I know, ‘s all finally comin’ t’getha fer us.”

+

It would be accurate to say that I was still in utter disbelief after yesterday, and rehashing it all to Skye the second I got home only made it all seem more real, and even better. Then again, that was an understatement, because I had been waiting for this for years. I had been waiting to feel this way for too long, and to be able to say and think that I have a date with Harry tomorrow. An actual, proper date. Several times, I cursed myself for not making the date on Thursday night, tonight, because although I had waited painstakingly for five days, another two felt like twenty years.

It was even bittersweet coming to work the next day and not seeing him there, confusing the habits and expectations I had come to know. I still had to finish up the case with Myles that he would finish arguing, with my help, for the next two days. I tried to think of it that way, that the date would be even better after finishing that case, and in a way, signifying my return to Harry. God, it was all too perfect, but it would be even more so if I didn’t have to wait another bloody day, well actually two, to see him. Yesterday wasn’t long enough, but when I think about it, no length of time ever is with him and that’s how I know I’m in trouble.

Also, that I’m walking right into one of my dreams.

+

After a morning spent in court starting off the case, I was back at the firm with Myles after lunch to work on it some more. He had given me more time to myself to work on my own than Harry had, but I preferred it that way. Harry was right, Myles was good to me, and I did learn a lot from him, but it wasn’t the same as being with Harry. Nothing has ever and never will be the same as being with him, certainly not. Also, the whole Family and Interpersonal side of court was depressing as fuck, I found out. The topic littered Harry and I’s conversations the last almost week, resulting in me taking after him and deciding to stay far away from it for now. 

I’m reminded of him everywhere I go, and it definitely makes trying to get my work done all the more difficult. I see his face in the succulent sat at the corner of my desk, behind my office chair where he would lean over me to help me on my laptop, on my sofa where he opened his birthday presents with explosive happiness, and in the reflection on the tall window where I now stand in the same spot as on his birthday when he hugged me against his front with a kiss to my head. A day later, and it all still feels so surreal to me, and I’m not mad about it. I appreciate its distracting qualities, leaving me to not worry as much about what the hell I’m going to wear tomorrow, and messing things up. Skye’s already picked out five outfits for me by now, I’m sure, but I was at a loss last night when I perused my closet. The pressure to impress somebody I’ve already met a hundred times, feels even greater than my second interview I had at the firm, and I tell myself I don’t know why, even though I do.

I want to wear the right thing, and feel beautiful. More than that, I don’t want to mess things up between us, again, no matter how stupid that sounds. No matter how premature it is to worry about right now.

With the happiest of sighs, I wander over to my bookshelf that now sits a dozen law books, gifts from Harry, Skye, Robbie, my dad, and Asher. Perhaps my favorite, to no surprise, is the Lawyer’s Dictionary that Harry got me. It has a section for all of the law jargon, another on many important laws, and lastly finishes with a guide for working the courtroom. I was just getting on my tippy toes to grab it when I feel a pair of arms surround my chest and pull me against theirs. 

“Hiya, brat,” a voice teases, tickling my neck. 

“Harry!” I exclaim with surprise, grabbing hold of his forearms. “Why do you love to scare me so much?”

“I dunno, ‘s fun, and coz yer a brat, so ya deserve it,” he giggles, and finally I relent and do too as I turn around to face him. 

“I am not a brat!” I argue, finding his flushed stubbly cheeks, taking a second to get used to the thick stubble covering them now. 

“Ya are, I reckon, couldn’t even wake me up last night t’ finish tha rest o’ tha FRIENDS episode on FaceTime, jus’ kept watchin’ along without me. If that doesn’t make ya a brat, then I dunno what does,” he tuts, clucking his tongue as he shakes his head at me. My giggles grow into a hearty chuckle as his folded hands settle at the small of my back. 

“Harry Edward!” I scoff, swatting at his chest once again hidden by his Northface coat, matching his black skinny jeans. 

“Hey, ya betta watch that hand o’ yers, bug, and that mouth too.”

“I’m not a brat,” I whine, all facial features falling into a pout that immediately grabs his attention. 

“Rebecca Ann, don’t even start with me. Put that bloody pout away befo’ ya regret it,” he insists, pointing his eyes at me with the smallest of smirks peeking through on his lips. It wins him over and soon his dimples accompany his deep laugh. “Stop, yer not a brat, bug, ‘m jus’ teasin’ ya. Y’know that. Jus’ can’t believe it didn’t even take a week fer ya t’ skip ahead o’ me in our show.”

“The episode was already three quarters of the way over!” I protest, earning a good finger wag at me. I fight back and push against his chest. “And I didn’t want to wake you up, you were so tired.”

“No, it was not! It was only half way through and ya couldn’t even wake me up! How rude o’ my Becks t’ be makin’ up excuses.” 

“Stop being mean to me,” I pout again, beginning to turn away with my arms crossed over my chest. 

“Hey, ‘m jus’ givin' ya a hard time, bug, y’know that. Yer neva a brat, and even if ya are, yer my brat,” Harry hums warmly, the honey returning to his voice in full force as he catches me around the middle with his arms once again. I can’t remember the last time I heard his voice absent of the honey, though. I don’t ever want to. “I wouldn’t want ya any otha way.”

“I knew you were only joking.”

“You li’l liar!” he laughs against my temple and mine joins his ever so contagious one. “Y’know, ‘ve always loved how ya neva take me shit and how ya can dish it right back, Becks.”

“Of course, I figured out at  the very beginning that I wouldn’t get by without it.”

“That’s me girl,” he coos, bringing me forth and round to find his gentle green eyes once more. They smile at me with a sparkle to them I haven’t had the pleasure to know before. I’ve yet to see him look at anybody this way, and I wonder if I have my own special look in my eyes for him, too. If I do, it was born long ago. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you had said you were going to take it easy until Monday, since your case got done early,” I wonder aloud, unsure of what to do with my hands until they venture to his coat’s zipper on their own, pulling it up and down distractedly. 

“I was, until My’ roped me into a partner meetin’ t’day, and I wanted t’ see a special sumbody,” he sighs with an accented roll of his eyes at first, and then they dish out their dazzle on me. “But that’s it, and ‘m off afta that. I hafta do a li’l work fer my case afta finishin’ it, but it’ll only take ten minutes tops. Then laundry, cleanin’, and tha like at home before grocery shoppin’. Only jus’ now got outta bed, tha bloody jetlag.”

“Ah, I see. The work of a lawyer never ends, it seems,” I comment and he nods above me, eyes watching my every move closely. “God, if I knew you’d be here today I would have tried a little harder when I got dressed this morning,” I laugh nervously, my eyes falling to his crimson button-up peeking out from his coat, decorated with gray flowers and foliage. 

“Ya don’t even hafta try and ya look gorgeous, Becks. Promise,” Harry disagrees, the molasses pouring out from his words and into my heart, pushing the very last chip away. Just like that, I’m all his again, but I think it happened long before this and I didn’t know. Daring a look up at him, the dimples couldn’t be deeper in his cheeks as his sunshine smile radiates onto me, the pad of his thumb rough against my cheek. “I sure missed seein’ that smile, ‘s me favourite.” 

My anxiousness carries away with the sunshine, and I’m left with red cheeks and a smile that makes them hurt. It almost pains me to look into his bright sunny eyes, but I wouldn’t want to be looking anywhere else. Finally, I let myself look and with that, I let him in a little further and start to let go. 

“You’re really laying it on thick,” I jest harmlessly with a smile, dragging my finger down the seam of his chest where the two sides of the fabric meet in red cloth buttons. 

“Ya, coz I finally can,” he grins, and the warmth spreading across my body in tingly waves finds an outlet in a soft laugh of mine. 

Anxious yes, but ever so happy while his hand spreads out flush against my back, fingertips moving lazily. I’ve already pinched myself once or twice today wondering if this is all a dream, and shocked that I could ever be this happy. There were so many times I doubted the existence of it and its possibility, and everything it had to do with having this with Harry. Predictably, an electronic twinkle interrupts our conversation, and I’m confused to find him lifting his wrist. 

“Woah, look at the fancy lawyer,” I tease, his already colossal smile growing taller as he flicks a finger across his shiny new Apple watch. “That must have cost a pretty penny.”

“Ya, and My’ dished out e’ry last cent,” he titters, pressing his palm to the shiny surface rounded by space grey edges, returning his eyes and hands to me. “It was his birthday present t’ me, sayin’ that I should be mo’ organized at me age, or sumthin’.”

“Talk about brutal honesty right there.”

“Don’t go bloody agreein’ with him now!” Harry scoffs, but his mouth open in disgust is no more, lined by joyous lips that soon attack my cheeks in kisses. 

“No, no, no!” I beg aloud in shrieks when his quick fingers dance along my ribs, sending jolts of electricity across my body. More exclamations and pleas escape them before I say the magic words, “Harry Edward!” 

“What d’ya want, hmm, Rebecca Ann?” he asks breathlessly, that adorable breathy laugh falling off of his glossy cherry lips. 

“I think you like saying my full name too much,” I contend, giving up and falling into the sage green abyss of his eyes for the hundredth time, or more. 

“Maybe I do. Maybe I like it,” he shrugs mischievously, that smirk glued to his lips that pull me in. 

“Do you like it, the watch?”

“Ya, ‘s nice. I thought ‘d told ya ‘bout it, sorry. Reckon it has helped me t’ stay organized. Speakin’ of, me meetin’ ‘s inna few, so I hafta take off, bug,” he croons with disapproving lips, his bottom lip soon jutting out from the top. 

“Harry Styles, don’t you even!” I threaten rather weakly, the sounds of happiness leaving my lips doing a good job of that. 

“Oh, and what if I don’t? Hmmm, Rebecca Holte, jus’ what will ya do ‘bout it?” Harry returns, wiggling an eyebrow at me that makes my chest rumble with harder laughter. 

“I’ll just have to stop you, but I don’t know how just yet.”

A devilish smirk is born on his lips before my eyes, and soon leaves my view while his face escapes to the crook of my neck, his voice soon tickling my skin, “Lawyers gotta be quick on their feet, bug. Reckon I can think o’ a way ya can make these lips stop poutin’, maybe ya can try it on me t’morro’ afta our date,” he hums against my neck, knitting up his sentence with a whisper of a kiss below my ear.

I feel like a fricken sixteen-year-old all over again, and I’m loving every second. 

“You better get going to your meeting, before you’re late, Harry,” I giggle uncontrollably,  sure that my face is blotchy with red all over because of what he just said. My suspicion is confirmed when he lifts his head of moused curls to look me in the eyes again, and the glint in them tells me so. I feel like I can read him even better now, all because he’s letting me. 

“‘s alright, they expect me t’ be late by now, ‘s a given,” he insists with a comedic shrug of his shoulders, hands wandering away from my back and to our sides where they invite my hands into his. 

“Will you stop and say goodbye this time?”

“‘Course, bug. ‘m sorry I missed ya yestaday, ya had already left afta I had made me rounds,” he assures me, receiving a quiet ‘it’s okay’ from me. 

“Try not to fall asleep at your meeting today,” I joke, watching his eyes roll into the back of his head briefly before he scoops me into his arms for a squeeze. 

“I won’t if ya promise not t’ be a brat anymo’ and skip ahead in our show.”

“Get lost and go to your meeting already!” I laugh, shoving him away by his chest, observant of his mouth relaxing into a disbelieving ‘O’. His laugh echoes mine quickly, only disrupted when my hand comes to his cheek to plant my lips on his other for a few seconds longer than necessary. “I’m so glad you’re back, Harry.”

“So am I, Becks, so bloody much,” he echoes, holding my hands a little tighter in his, even bringing one to his lips for a kiss. “Good luck on yer case, love, for tha thousandth time. ‘m so proud o’ you.”

With that, he leaves me in a puddle of my own surreal emotions, disappearing from my office with a look over his shoulder wearing that smirk. That very smirk I want so desperately to kiss off those cherry lips already. Tomorrow, I think, if I can make it until then. Just one more day.

+

I had been struggling with finishing this last part, or rather redoing it, for too long now. When my eyes again strayig to the violet clock, I was surprised to find that it had been almost an hour, and I hadn’t gotten much further. With my head in my hands, I sigh as feelings battle to be felt within my insides. After today’s argument, Myles and I had to shift our approach, and I still wasn’t sure of how to do that. He had been helping me, of course, but I still felt so lost. It doesn’t help that he’s currently caught up in the partner’s meeting that Harry is also at, and Jennings who is but isn’t a partner. I still don’t get it, even though Harry explained it to me a few times. The next time he does, I’ll have to remember to ask him to dumb it down for me. 

Even after pouring over our shared notes in Google Docs, and my several law books strewn across my desk, I’m at a loss for what to do.

I wish more than anything that it was already five pm tomorrow, and that the only thing I have to think about is my date with Harry. I still don’t know what the hell to wear, or to do with my hair, or how heavy to go with my makeup. 

“Why tha long face, bug?” somebody pipes up, pulling me away from my immersive thoughts. Blinking hard, I tear my eyes away from the laptop screen and look over to the door, but I don’t lift my tired head from my propped fist. 

“I don’t know what to do for my argument.”

“Still? Why didn’t ya jus’ ask, Becks?” Harry hums with an inviting smile, pressing the door to come just shy of closing. 

I shrug my shoulders with a heavy exhale, scrolling through what I have so far, quickly realizing how embarrassing it’ll be to show him. I can’t exit out quickly enough, hearing his footsteps arrive behind me. 

“Hey, what d’ya think yer doin’?” he teases when I switch tabs, quickly feeling the weight of his hand on top of mine, dragging the mouse along. “Don’t be nervous, love, ‘m here t’ help. Always am,” he coos softly, a hand settling on my adjacent shoulder, earning me an encouraging squeeze. 

“It’s embarrassing, Harry. I’ve been sitting here for over an hour trying to figure out what to do, and I have next to nothing to show for it.”

“Relax, ‘s only yer first official case yer arguin’. Don’t be so hard on yerself, Becks. It sounds like ya need a break, bug,” he insists, sending sparks along my left arm as he rubs stripes along the skin. It’s not long before I hear a familiar laugh and slowly, Harry’s dancing figure comes into view. “Yo ‘ll tell ya what I want, what I really, really want. So tell me what ya want, what ya really, really want,” he belts out, his phone blasting the song cupped in his hand. 

“Oh my God,” I sigh with an accidental laugh, my head falling into my hands. I’m too curious though, and so I peek out from behind my spread fingers to watch him sing passionately with his eyes closed while breaking out some amusing dance moves. “Please, stop,” I chuckle, but I’m sure he also hears the lie in my voice. 

“‘m not stoppin’.”

“Please, Harry. You’re going to make me die from secondhand embarrassment,” I confess into my hands, feeling brave and letting my fingers fall down to below my eyes. Mistakenly, his catch mine and they fly back up to cover my eyes, or for the most part. 

“Rebecca Ann, ‘m not stoppin’ ‘til ya come and join me.”

“Then you’re going to be there for a while,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders, certain of one thing and that’s the smile claiming my lips, and the forgotten document staring at me. I’m too preoccupied with the silly, dancing man in front of my eyes, and how somehow this makes me love him all the more. 

“Becks,” he insists, in between singing along to the song very badly. Oh no, I think as his steps near me once again. Before I know it, I’m staring into darkness as his breath tickles the back of my neck. 

“Stop,” I beg with laughs interjected among my pleas. They grow into near shouts and exclamations when his singing is accompanied by his fingers dancing across my sides, and along the slopes of my neck. “Harry!” I almost yell, and when my laughs couldn’t hurt my belly more, it all ceases. Only the singing remains and is joined by his stubbly cheek against my temple, and his arms coiled around my shoulders. “If ya wanna be my lova, ya gotta get with my friends.”

“Make it last forever, friendship never ends,” I continue for him, giggles heard at the end when his nose tickles the corner of my sensitive neck. 

“There’s me happy Becks, ‘m glad I found her ‘gain,” Harry coos, leaving a kiss on my temple before he helps me to tackle my argument. 

Five days did and didn’t feel very long when I think about it now, with his arms wrapped around me as his voice tickles my ear. Too easily, I can remember his absence over those long days, and how effortlessly they felt far longer. I barely survived with his texts and phone calls alone, and it hurts to think that if it hadn’t been for his case finishing early, I’d still be sitting here in my office all in my lonesome. 

Those thoughts are yanked away - thank God - when his voice brings me back, spewing legal mumbo jumbo that luckily nowadays I can understand, but I couldn’t have always said that. Harry makes quick work of what would be my best route to take and how I do that, and for the fiftieth time in the last two days, I couldn’t be more grateful for how easy things are coming together. I couldn’t be more thankful to have him by my side. It still feels like a dream getting to live this life now, and getting to work with him on the daily, singing Spice Girls amidst stolen cheek kisses.

One puzzle piece at a time, and there’s only one or two pieces left in this puzzle of ours.

+

The murmur of voices assaults my ears when I walk through the door, and feel my vision tugged towards the ceiling decorated with chandeliers. A song by Frank Sinatra floats around the entryway, hardly calming my overactive nerves, despite it being a favorite of my late grandpa’s. When I finally reach the host’s stand, the nerves topple out with my words, jumbling them.

“Reservation for H-Harry Styles, please,” I tell the towering, dark haired man. After a few moments tapping away on the kiosk, he grabs two menus and leads me through a maze of linen covered tables sat under the glow of the several chandeliers. 

I try to hide my disappointment when he leads me to an empty, round table, leaving with a few words about my server being with me soon. Another feeling bubbles up inside me, forcing itself to join all of the others mixed together within me. I had a feeling I was too early, I think silently as I shrug off my long pea coat to hang over my chair. Skye’s wishes of good luck and ‘lots of snogging’ float back to me, filling my sad cheeks with another wash of pink. ‘No, you aren’t driving yourself, I’m dropping you off so then you can get a ride home with him, and lay a big one on him when he walks you up,’ she had insisted, but the anxiousness years in the making is doing a good job of making me doubt myself tonight. 

My attention drifts to my phone that is silent with no new messages, but I still check our conversation. The last message was from him:

see u in half an hour for our date bug :) xxx

My thumb scrolls through our previous messages, straying to last night’s that brings a smile to my face. 

I have no idea what to wear tomorrow :/ 

meant it when i said u look beautiful in anything Becks ;) help what should i wear ? xx

I might be a little impartial to that gray suit you wore to my class lecture that one time ;) 

noted ;) i may especially love the color red on u if u wanna know 

Noted ;) Question....

shoot, love 

Skye was gonna drop me off tonight on her way to her boyfriend’s …. Would a ride home be too much to ask?

course not Becks. anytime u need a ride im here. id love to give u a ride home. perfect we can jam 2 some spice girls in the car then ;) 

I can’t wait

neither can i bug :) 

My reminiscing is interrupted when my eyes fall to my outfit of choice, tugging up the scoop neck that Skye insisted wasn’t ‘too slutty.’ Now, I’m not so sure about it, and I can’t decide if I wish he’d show up already, or if I’m not ready. Those thoughts are stolen away when the texts disappear on my phone, his smiling face claiming the screen with a jingle. 

“Hello?” I answer with a gulp, trying to hide the anxious tremble in my voice. I can’t help it, my eyes dart to my wrist, noticing it’s already 6:05 pm.

“Hi, bug. ‘m sorry but tha traffic ‘s horrendous and ‘m afraid ‘ll be late gettin’ t’ tha restaurant. E’rybody else ‘s comin’ home from work too,” Harry explains from the other side, a weird sound taking over his voice. Yeah, we’re not too good at this pretending thing anymore, are we? I can hear the nerves in his voice, probably just like he can hear them in mine. 

“Oh, it’s okay, Harry. I don’t mind at all, just be careful driving,” I respond, feeling a sense of relief at knowing where he is. I know he never would, but it squashes the tiny voice inside of me saying he wasn’t ever going to show up. 

“‘Course I will, love. Thanks fer understandin’. Reckon ‘ll be there in ten. Are ya there already?” he responds, just the sound of his voice doing wonders at calming me down. The only thing that could take it all away is a hug, one of his.

“Yeah, I just sat down.”

“Mmmm, d’ya mind scopin’ out tha menu while yer there? I won’t be too long, we can order once I get there, if that’s alright,” he asks, the sound of traffic sneaking into our phone call for a second. Then, I hear him sigh ‘finally’ and the subsequent thrum of the motor.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you soon then, careful driving.”

“I can’t wait t’ see you, Becks,” he hums before hanging up, leaving me sitting across from an empty chair that I can’t stop picturing him sitting in. 

This is really happening.

Finally.

+

The sound of her voice rings in my ears, and does nothing to stop the anxious shakes coursing throughout my body. Curses fall under my breath as I honk at somebody who pulls out right in front of me, making me slam on my brakes. With a sigh, I turn on my indicator before making my turn.

Pulling my keys from the ignition drenches my surroundings in silence, and reminds me of my heart beating wildly within my chest. Looking up, the decorative windows of the restaurant appear before me in shrouded light. She’s somewhere in there . . waiting for me.

Get it together, Harry. You can do this.

My eyes drift to the rear view mirror and I card my fingers through my hair until it looks decent enough. That’s as good as it’s going to get, I almost mutter while smoothing down my blazer underneath my coat. The bone chilling February night nips at my face once my feet touch the tarmac. Streetlights cast glows all around me, as well as the headlights of several cars. The thumping within my chest grows louder and faster as my feet near the door, and then the stand where a manicured man waits.

“Hi. I made a reservation unda the name ‘Harry Styles’,” I tell him, immediately casting my eyes to the tables within view, searching for her dark chocolate locks. 

“Right this way,” he replies, waving a hand to follow him and I do. He leads me past several tables, empty and occupied, and almost gets me lost in the process.

The last thing I feel is lost when my eyes finally find her.

“Thank you. I-I got it from here,” I tell him hurriedly, holding a hand out that brings us both to a halt. He walks away after a short ‘you’re welcome,’ leaving me there, right where I want to be.

I don’t remember the smile reaching my ears or my heart quieting within my chest as I watch her flip through the menu thirty feet away from me. The prettiest red dress dons her long body, falling just underneath her collarbones and draped over the curve of her shoulders. Her hair falls in dark, natural waves, almost hiding the round opal sitting above the scoop of scarlet fabric. A tingling sensation blankets my body from head to toe, and the image of Becks sitting there waiting for me is burned into my mind.

It feels like I’m meeting her again for the first time, but I’m not. This feels like a new first time, and I know it’s one I won’t ever forget, much like the very first time I laid my eyes upon her. 

It felt like a Monday. For the bloody life of me, I couldn’t remember if it was one at the moment. Is it Monday? I’m not sure, but with the way things were going today, it sure felt like one. The copier had a jam, I forgot the first lunch I’ve made in years at home, and my girlfriend had been annoying the fuck out of me this morning. To top it all off, I had applicants being interviewed today to fill the position of my personal assistant, ever since the last one bolted. She didn’t last more than two weeks, a big surprise. 

Pete had been blowing up my phone for the last ten minutes, and I finally had had enough. Without an announcement or a knock, I stride into his office, fully intent on finding out what the hell he wants. 

“I’m a little busy, if you haven’t noticed,” he retorts over the head of dark chestnut locks sat in front of him. Presumably, one of the new applicants for my personal assistant. Hmm. 

“Well, ya kept ringin’ me bloody phone, Pete. So, what tha hell d’ya want?” I insist, throwing up a hand that falls to my thigh with a loud slap. 

Suddenly, I wish the quiet little thing would turn around, and give me a look at her. Shy, she is, it seems. There she sits, tucked away into her little shell, dressed to impress in a dark dress. 

“I’m in the middle of an interview!” he exclaims, certainly making a good first impression with the applicant. It makes me wonder for the tenth time why I bother having him do the interviews, but then I remember that I don’t really give a fuck, as long as I don’t have to do them. 

“What fer, huh?” I tease, instantly getting a snappy response from Pete about it being for me, as if I didn’t already know. But, I did, and am only doing this to bother him even more. 

“Ooo, ‘s it now? Ya get me a good one? Huh, Pete?” I grin, taking a step forward as a hand in my pocket plays with the tiny, metal guitar attached to my key ring. Sticking my head out as I move forward, my eyes dance across her head, and her profile that soon comes into view. “Hullo, love. Gonna be me new one, are ya? Petey here says I can’t keep one fer tha life o’ me, so here he ‘s interviewin’ me anotha one. How’s she doin’ so far, Petey? Think she’s a winna?” I joke aloud, knowing full well the effect my words have on the both of them. 

My subsequent introduction falls from my lips after a retort from Pete, and then the stranger finally turns to look me in the eyes. I rack my brain, trying to put a name to her face from a prior conversation with Pete. Or was it going over her resume when it came in the other day? I can’t remember which, and I blame it on her captivating baby blue eyes, as well as the intoxicating smile that greets my own. Words float from her lips and grace my ears for the very first time, and I knew immediately that she was something else. 

“Hi, my name is Becky. Becky Holte.”

Little did I know how drastically she would change my life, sometimes I thought for the worse, but ultimately for the better. The better, always. I had no way of knowing at that very moment, how many times she would come to save me.

My Becks.

+

The sound of homemade ravioli filled with chicken and three kinds of cheese is almost making my mouth water. It also makes me wonder when Harry will finally be here, and habitually, my eyes lift to look for him. To my surprise, I find him standing a ways away with the sweetest smile stuck to his lips. 

“Hiya, Becks. Sorry ‘m late. Ya look . . absolutely gorgeous, by tha way,” he comments once he’s within a few steps of the table. He reaches across to squeeze my arm before sitting down across from me, a blush pinching his cheeks. 

“Thank you, Harry. I uh, like the suit you went with, you look very handsome in it. Good choice,” I return, failing to not focus on the fast thrumming deep inside of me. 

“Ya, a certain sumbody said it was their favourite on me, so I couldn’t disappoint,” he grins with a shrug, unfastening the button at his waist, exposing the satiny black button-up hidden underneath. 

“Good, I’m glad you didn’t,” I smile, sure of the warmth he can see filling my cheeks, because I can see it mirrored in his own. “I like that you kept the stubble.”

“Why thank you,” he comments, once again rubbing it with his thumb and forefinger, and like before, making me all the more jealous. “I trimmed it up a li’l bit, figured I betta.” 

“Oh, I hope you keep it. I think I prefer you with it.”

“D’ya now, Becks?” he teases with a lift of his eyebrows, his tousled curls almost tickling his forehead, but just barely. “‘ll hafta rememba that,” he smiles, and more than ever, it’s incredibly contagious. My cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling by now, but I don’t even mind. 

“The um,” I begin nervously, my eyes falling to the elegant paper menu opened in front of me. It pains me to look away from him and the sunshine emanating from his smile, but it’s not so bad when I feel his chelsea boot knock against my heel, remaining there against the back of my ankle. “Chicken ravioli sounds good, as well as the margherita pizza, and Cacio e Pepe. Lots of good choices for dessert, too.”

“Mmm, they all sound good, love. Thanks fer lookin’ fer us,” he muses aloud, head bent down to peer at the menu when I glance over to him. 

His habit returns and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, and somehow, it makes my smile grow bigger. I didn’t think that was possible, but here I am with aching cheeks. I nudge his foot with mine and he looks up with a question on his face, soon relaxing into a sparkling smile. That effervescent look in his eyes from the other day returns, and if I hadn’t known it already, I truly could look into his eyes for the rest of eternity. The dimples haven’t left his cheeks since he arrived, and his raspberry lips beg at me from across the table. 

“Let’s give it a try then,” he remarks, closing his menu without breaking our eye contact. The words dipped in honey flow from his lips and tickle something inside me, and I want more than anything to hear another meaning in them. His foot nudging at mine in return only makes me give in to it, and so does his wink. 

Our server arrives at our table shortly, and I thank God for the champagne she pours into tall flutes, not taking the edge off fast enough. A conversation blossoms between us about his case, and then mine with Myles. 

“Ya did great by tha way. Congrats on tha win, Becks, ‘m so fookin’ proud o’ you,” Harry grins adamantly, sweetness pouring off of his words that come out with a shake of his head. 

“Thank you so much, Harry. Wait, how’d you know we won it? I was just going to tell you,” I ask with furrowed brows, and receive a measly shrug of his shoulders in return. The look on his face, as if a revelation is threatening to burst from his lips, teases at me until it abates when the server brings us waters and we order. 

“So so bloody proud o’ you t’day, Becks,” he whispers as she pulls out her notepad and a pen. Possibilities blossom within my mind after he sends me a coy wink and knocks his foot against mine again. It doesn’t leave my own throughout the rest of our time there, during our meal and the laughs we share over glasses of champagne, and a plate of Tiramisu that I somehow let him share with me.

+

“I knew it! You were there today, sitting in the gallery, weren’t you?!” I exclaim, mumbling a short ‘thank you’ when he opens the car door for me. 

“Maybe,” Harry shrugs casually, walking around the front of the car as I fall onto the leather seat. 

“Harry Styles!” I nearly shout, if it weren’t for my voice dissolving into a giggle as he slides behind the steering wheel next to me. 

“What? I had some stuff t’ do at tha courts, so I may have popped in fer a mo’,” he explains. 

“Sure,” is all I say as I pull the seat belt across my chest. 

“Hush, and play some music, bug. Here,” he insists, handing me his grey iPhone that looks normal sized in his hand, and then gigantic in mine. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to watch?”

“Coz o’ that right there, Becks. Yer nervous ‘bout it right now afta tha fact, imagine how ya woulda been if ‘d told ya I was comin’ befo’ yer argument t’day,” he returns, pressing buttons on the dash and soon, waves of hot air greet my cold body. 

“I guess you’re right.”

“‘m what? I didn’t catch that,” Harry jests, cupping his ear. A scoff flies from my lips and I playfully swat his shoulder. “Hey, watch it. ‘m drivin’.”

“You haven’t even switched gears, so shut up,” I laugh, catching the eye roll he thinks I don’t see. “I see that eye roll, Styles, you better watch it.”

“You betta watch it, Becks. Betta pick a good Spice Girls song too, ‘m payin’ attention,” he jokes, soon his fingers diving into my side. A laugh escapes me unwillingly, and yanks my eyes over to his giggling lips. 

His name leaves mine in a near shriek, and after a blink, his tickling fingers are gone and lacing between mine. The dark flecks in his sage green eyes catch under the overhead light before it turns off automatically. He gives my hand a good squeeze as his eyes melt into mine, and a zing of electricity runs up my fingers and then my arm. The smile falling into his cheeks mirrors the one that’s been glued to my lips all night, and now grows higher and higher. I return the squeeze just as he looks to his mirrors, the click of the doors locking when he shifts to Reverse. 

It almost hurts to look away, but so many other feelings and thoughts are occupying me as my eyes fall to his phone. Disbelief washes over me as his long, ringed fingers sit between mine. It only grows when he lifts our intertwined hands up and over the middle console, to sit on his warm thigh.

An uninvited wave of pain hits me when I spot familiar sad songs amongst his music library, like the familiar ‘When She Loved Me’ that could make any Toy Story fan weep within seconds of hearing it. It intensifies when my eyes run over the songs Before You Go, Wish You Were Here, Say You Won’t Let Go, and With or Without You. Chancing a glance over at him, he stares straight ahead into the dark night, and a bittersweetness greets me. I try not to let it in, and the realization that perhaps those lost seven months were hell for him too, as were those five days apart. 

“Find it? I have Spice World on there sumwhere. I know I have loads o’ shit on there, sorry,” he comments, turning his head to check his left before pulling onto the busy road. 

“Y-Yeah,” I stutter, looking back to his expansive music library spanning from the 50’s to current music. His thumb drawing circles onto my knuckles brushes some of the sadness away as I bring up the album he speaks of. 

“Bloody hell, why ya choosin’ tha sad one, Becks?” he titters, glancing over to me when we come to a stop at a light. His smile shining back at me whisks away the last drops of the sadness, but hints of it remain with me, begging to be felt. I shrug my shoulders as the beginning lyrics of ‘Too Much’ fills the car, and I only turn it up louder. “I get t’ pick tha next song, if yer playin’ sad stuff. Bloody rubbish you are at pickin’ songs,” he sighs jokingly with a shake of his head, curls tickling his ears and the nape of his neck. 

“I am not!” 

“‘Kay, brat, keep talkin’,” he snickers, earning another scoff from me that he answers with a harder laugh. I cast my eyes to the window with an exaggerated whimper, soon hearing his profuse apologies. “‘m kiddin’, Becks, bloody hell. I already know ya have a good taste in music from all o’ our talks. I like this song too, jus’ thought ya’d go fer some happy songs, seein’ tha . . occasion and e’rythin’. Hey.” 

I answer him with my eyes returning to him, finding his wink before he looks back to traffic, and with my thumb coasting back and forth across his smooth skin. I listen to the lyrics, feeling another squeeze of my hand from him before I change the song. 

“Hey, don’t change it befo’ ‘s done!” he exclaims, and I just laugh, watching his shocked lips soon do the same. 

“Then stop complaining,” I argue, catching another roll of his eyes as the car slows to a stop in front of another light. Joy buds on my lips as the surprise unfolds on his features, meanwhile his eyes crinkle, the dimples fall deeper, and his raspberry lips thin out as a smile consumes his face. 

“I knew ya were sumthin’ special,” he notes aloud with a shake of his head, a giggle emanating from his joyous smile, right before he joins me to sing along to Shania Twain’s ‘Man, I Feel Like A Woman.’ 

His fingers laced between mine continue to send my heart into overdrive as we belt out the song between contagious laughs, and then another crowd favourite, ‘You’re Still The One.’ This one gets me and sometimes throughout the song, I can’t get myself to look at him with the sincerity held in the lyrics. As well as the words that hit too close to home. 

Finally, I can’t stand it anymore, and my eyes drift over to his at the end of the song, finding that his are already on mine. “‘m so glad we made it. Look how far we’ve come, my baby,” Harry finishes with his eyes dancing upon me with that smile dripping with molasses. As if his hand squeezing mine periodically throughout the song wasn’t already making me want to cry, now I really could. I return the gesture before looking out the window, blinking back the arriving tears from my eyes as those lasting words sing inside of my head. 

Yeah, we finally made it, Harry. Belatedly, but finally.

+

“‘s been years since ‘ve been here, hasn’t changed much tho’,” Harry remarks softly, only a few steps away from my door. 

“Yeah, the inside looks bout the same too.”

“‘m sure. Maybe I could see fer meself one o’ these days,” he remarks aloud, and when my eyes drag over to his nervously, I answer him with a nod. 

“I’d like that.”

“Me too,” he coos, rubbing the pad of his thumb along the back of my hand. A shy smile nudges at the edge of my lips as he stands in front of me, my right hand still safe within his. “Well, I had a wondaful time t’night, thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, and thank you too. I had a lot of fun . . with you.”

“So did I, bug. ‘ll um, text you later then?” Harry says, clearing his throat awkwardly, his bottom lip soon returning to its nervous spot. 

“Y-yeah, sounds good,” I mumble quietly, eyes falling to my hand that he drops. The absence of his warmth against mine feels very strange now, having been holding hands for the entire drive and subsequent walk up to my apartment. 

“Night, Becks.”

“Goodnight, Harry, careful driving,” is the last thing I say before slipping behind my door, finding Skye perched on the sofa. The monotonous, forced words echo in my ears and my eyes fall to the floor, disappointment flooding every inch of me. 

“So, how’d it go?! Did you finally fucking kiss him?!” she shouts the second the door meets its frame. 

“No,” I admit between shy lips, the steps I take seeming as if they’re from somebody else’s body, not mine. The entire last five minutes feels like somebody else had lived them, not me. No, it can’t end like that. “Not yet, anyways,” I rush, ignoring my shoes I already toed off, spinning around and ripping open the door. “Harry, wait!” I exclaim, finding his surprised expression waiting in front of the lift. 

“What?” he asks, eyebrows bent into a questioning mess. 

“I-I forgot something,” I manage, the words spilling out in a heap while he closes the distance between us, stopping right in front of me. Right where I need him. 

“Forgot what, bug? Did ya forget yer shoes in me car?” he titters, the fluorescent glow overhead picking out the few blonde hairs in his stubble. 

“No . . something else,” I finally admit, taking a step when there aren’t any left. 

The dimples remain set into his cheeks while his eyes fall to my lips and mine raise to his. His facial hair is prickly and dense under the pad of my thumb, and his coveted bottom lip is warm and pillowy. The golden hue of his olive green irises fills my mind when my lips finally meet his, and at last, I find his bottom lip between my own. His sweet giggle sounds against my lips as my fingers get lost in his buttery curls. I come to echo it when his hands shock me with their coldness against my hips, pulling me closer to him. One strays to the back of my head as his lips move against mine, the word ‘finally’ repeating incessantly within my mind. His barely there beard is scratchy against my skin, contrasting to the smooth tip of his nose grazing my cheek. The cinnamon and cocoa powder from the Tiramisu cake tickles my taste buds while his spicy vanilla smell covers me like a blanket. Zings shoot across my palm pressed to his smiling cheek, his facial hair prickly against the sensitive skin. 

Not feeling like what was actually mere seconds later, air fills my lungs when we pull away at the same time, sharp inhales filling the air. Quickly, his sweet giggle joins it, and ropes one of my own in. The tip of his nose leaves trails on my cheek as his forehead falls onto mine. 

“Ya have no idea how long ‘ve waited fer that,” Harry rasps, his warm breath dancing across my lips. His own press a whisper of a kiss to mine briefly, although after that, now I’m sure it could never be long enough. 

“I think I do know,” I mumble, my hand straying to his chin where I brush the tip of my thumb against the flesh of his bottom lip. 

“‘m sorry it took us so long, bug.”

“It’s okay, we’re here now. Finally,” I tell him and he nods, the twinkle in his eye bright as can be. For the first time, I let myself melt and lose myself in the greens of his eyes. Something I have wanted to do ever since the very first time I looked into his green eyes and knew I was fucked. 

“Yes, we are. And look at you, Becks. Ya beat me t' tha first date and tha first kiss,” he smirks with a decadent laugh adorning his words. I can’t help but join him while I twirl a ringlet of his hair around the tip of my finger against the back of his neck. 

“Oh, it’s okay, Harry. You got the first hand hold, and the first Shania Twain car duet.”

A roll of his miraculous eyes accompanies his continuing laugh, “Ya, well, so did you, but I got tha more romantic one,” he insists, words welcomed by my surprised scoff. 

“Wait, you don’t find ‘Man, I Feel Like A Woman’ romantic?!” I nearly exclaim in faux disbelief, my voice softening into a giggle quickly. 

“Only when you sing it, bug,” Harry smiles, thumbing circles into the small of my back. 

“Wait, you got tha first handhold, brat. Rememba, when I visited you at yer old work that day? Bloody hell, you beat me t’ all tha good ones, Becks. No fair,” he snickers with a sigh to his words, the two contrasting the other. I suffice my response with an obligatory nod, feeling my heart just now starting to settle into a regular beat. “Becks, there’s so many things ‘ve wanted t’ say t’ you, and now, I finally can.”

“I think I know how you feel.” 

“First thing ‘ll say ‘s I get tha second date and tha second kiss,” Harry contends with a smirk held in his eyes. 

“Oh, really?” I giggle and he soon nods. He quiets the laugh beginning on my lips with his own giddy ones, my lips molding against his effortlessly. Thoughts blossom quickly within my mind, including why I waited so fucking long to kiss him. If I’d known all of these years how wonderful it feels to kiss him, I never would have waited this long. Our kisses are slow although hurried, our lips searching for the other’s desperately, and somehow perfectly. Years overdue, and it couldn’t feel any more perfect. 

“Fookin’ hell, I jus’ wanna keep kissin’ you, Becks. Dunno if I can stop,” he chuckles, brushing his nose against mine softly. Shockingly, his eyes are even more gorgeous from this view, and I didn’t think that was possible. Evidently, anything is. 

“You don’t have to,” I laugh and he shrugs his shoulders while his eyebrows mimic the expression, his giggle soon vibrating against my tingling lips. 

“We have loads o’ lost time t’ make up fer,” he notes aloud. 

“Yes, we do. A couple years, give or take.”

“Mmmhmm, yer right there, li’l one. Fook, there were so many times I wanted t’ kiss ya ova the years,” he sighs with a sad shake of his head. His dimple is soft under my fingertip, hidden under the warm brunette facial hair. 

“Then kiss me.”

Too soon, his lips leave mine after a short peck, but I press at the back of his curls and envelope his laugh with my lips. My name falls from him in a delighted whisper before one more kiss. Our laughs grow louder only to be muffled, although weakly, when a figure walks by into their nearby apartment. My face runs to the crook of his neck, my very favorite song dancing along my ears as he holds me against him. 

“Nothing to see here, sir,” I joke, and the warmth filling my insides grows at the sound of his happiness. 

“No, I rememba I got tha first handhold that night we went out fer drinks tha first time. Tha night with tha Purple Hazes and all those shots,” Harry insists from above me, and I give him the funniest look when I come out of hiding. 

“You’re still going on about that?” I ask in near disbelief, watching his curls move when he nods his head, dipping to meet my lips with his for a slow kiss. 

“I don’t want this night to end,” I hum against the strawberry color of his decadent mouth. 

“Neither do I, Becks. ‘ve been waitin’ fer it fer so long,” he agrees, the wispiness of his eyelashes ghostlike against my forehead. 

“It’s getting late, and Skye is probably dying to hear how tonight went.”

“Ya betta go and tell tha poor girl then,” he responds, pulling my eyes towards his that sit just a moment away, sending all of the sunshine in my direction. 

“That’s okay?”

“‘Course. I may or may not ring Myles on tha way home t’ tell him all ‘bout it,” he shrugs with a telling lilt to his sing-song voice. The only sound that leaves my lips is an amused laugh that he echoes, and I know that he feels the same way.

At last, I know after over two years that he feels the same way, through and through. 

“We’ll figure out sumthin’ fer this weekend t’getha, sound good?”

“Yeah, sounds great, Harry,” I agree slowly and he nods ever so slightly, leaving kisses starting from my temple and down my cheek. 

“G’night, bug.”

“Night, Harry. Drive careful,” I tell him and once again, he answers me with a nod. 

“I promise, babe.”

“Goodnight,” I almost whisper, the very last breath of the word stolen away by his lips. I wouldn’t want it any other way, I barely am able to think as his lips massage mine between his. His neck is fiery beneath my palms and I’m sure mine is likened to it underneath his fingertips, surges of electricity passing below my skin. The skin is balmy against my blushing cheek when my arms come around his middle, surprising us both with a long hug, before I pull away first. 

“Night, my Becks,” he murmurs against my lips, a shiver running down my spine when he leaves with a final squeeze to my hand. If that didn’t do it, the song flowing from his humming lips sparks memories behind my eyes, but I still can’t figure out where it’s from. But, I know that I have plenty of time to figure it out, and to get all of the kisses that I want from him. 

Fucking finally.

[ddreammcatcher]

BAU Corporations

My next entry for @cmbingo. This fills my business au square. 

part 2

I stand up and stretch from my desk. I walk to the glass window overlooking the city. I’m the CEO of BAU corporations. My father started the company twenty years ago. When he died, I inherited the business. I didn’t want the business to start with. I got used to the lifestyle and what the expectations with the job were. It’s been five years since I became CEO. The company has broken many sales records since I took over. Most people think that all I care about is money.

My door is knocked on. “Come in.” My secretary Penelope walks in. “Hotch, your 10:00 interview is here.” “Thank you. You can send her in.” Penelope leaves. I take a seat behind my desk. The door is knocked on again. “Come in.” A petite woman with blond hair walks in. “Helly Mrs.Jareau please take a seat.” She hesitantly takes a seat and leans away from me. “Do you have a problem with me mrs.Jareau?” I make eye contact and she quickly looks away. “No sir.” She’s scared and I can tell. I’ve been through too many employees to not know the signs.

“Mrs.Jareau, this is only going to work if you are honest with me. Now, what is the issue?” She scoots back on the chair as far as she can. “I’m sorry sir. It’s just that…” I stare at her. “Just what? I don’t have all day.” I’m annoyed at this woman I hardly know. Unless she can turn it around in the next five minutes, she’s not getting the job. “I’m sorry sir. I just admire you.” I glance at her. I know that she won’t fit in with our team the moment she says that. “I’m sorry Mrs.Jareau, but I don’t think you’re the right fit for the job.” She looks sad. I push a button and Penelope opens the door.

“You don’t have another interview for half an hour Hotch.” I nod. “Thanks.” She closes the door. Penelope is the only person whose first name I use. She’s also the only one allowed to call me Hotch. She was my best friend in college. When I took over, she didn’t have a job, so I hired her on the spot. It took a little convincing for her to be my secretary. There were a couple other women doing it before her and she would get mad about it. She finally decided to do the job herself.

I spent the half hour working on a pitch for our next meeting. I’m trying to hire someone with new ideas that fits with the team. My team respects me and knows what I expect. When they don’t finish the work they were given, I give them some stupid punishment like not being allowed some privilege they had earned in the past.

My door is knocked on. “Come in.” Penelope walks in. “Hey, your next interview is here.” “Thanks. You can send them in.” I sigh when she leaves. A woman with black hair walks in. “Did I tell you you could come in?” I glare at her. “Your secretary said I could come in. I didn’t think I needed to ask again.” She holds my gaze as she says this. “Have a seat Mrs.Prentiss.” She sits, her hands resting on my desk. “What makes you think you can do this job?” “I’ve been working in the industry for years. I’ve traveled all over the world and have contacts that can help me.” 

I glare at her. “Are you trying to brag Mrs.Prentiss?” “No sir, I’m sorry sir.” I nod. “What do you think of the eco project we’re beginning?” I’m curious about her. “In all honesty, it’s crap.” I raise my eyebrows. “You want to be eco friendly, but you’re not changing anything in your company. You need to change something to make it real.” She sits in silence realizing she just insulted my business. “Mrs.Prentiss, I am unfortunately out of time for today. I pick up a file that no one but me has seen. “I want to see you back here on Monday at 7 sharp. Look over this and write up a report on it.” I hand her the folder. “Thank you sir.” I open the door for her. 

I close the door behind her and Penelope walks in. “You walked her to the door Hotch.” “Yeah, I think I’m going to hire her. I gave her a file to look over. It’s a fake project, but I want to see how she does with it before I offer her the job. You can cancel the rest of the interviews.” She smiles. “This means you can be done early and come out for drinks with me and Morgan.”

Penelope has been trying to convince me to go out for drinks with her and her boyfriend for months. I don’t like social situations, which is why I didn’t like this job to start with. “Pen, I have work to finish today.” She sighs. “Fine Hotch. Only because you found someone to hire. Don’t forget I know the one thing that will always make you come with.” She laughs. I groan. “I shouldn’t have told you that.” “Too bad.” I flip her off as she leaves and she just laughs at me.

I finished the pitch I was working on earlier. Once I’m done, I pull up Emily Prentiss’ file. I click on it and open it. It has a lot of information in it. She signed forms giving us access to all of it. Her school transcripts could have been better. She has places with lots of absences. She got good grades even with missing school. She has a business degree and a minor in psychology and Spanish. It’s something I wouldn’t have thought of. 

I look at her background check. Her adult life has been clean. Yet she has a juvenile record. She got arrested for stealing food. She said it was for her and her mom. She was given probation and had been clean since then. There was also a sealed case report. I decided to not look at that.

I push a button and Penelope comes in. “Penelope, when Mrs.Prentiss gets her on Monday, have her change into the required outfit.” She nods. The required outfit is a white button up shirt, a red tie, a black blazer with the company logo on it. There is a black skirt or black slacks. The shoes are all black dress shoes. If you are wearing a skirt, you must wear the white knee high socks as well. Your hair must always be secured out of your face. I go home to an empty house again. All I’ve focused on for the past five years is my job.

The next Monday at 7:30, my door is knocked on. “Come in.” Emily walks in. Her tie is not tied and shoved into the blazer pocket. The blazer is hanging over her arm. She has a pair of black slacks on and the correct shoes. Her hair lays in long waves over one side of her face. “Here’s your file.” “Take a seat.” I look over the report and am very happy at how she did. “You got the job.” I state. “Thank you sir.” She gets up to leave. “Mrs.Prentiss, we are not done here.” 

She sits back down and pouts. The pout gives me butterflies. “Mrs.Prentiss, your uniform is not worn correctly. Fix it or I will fix it for you.” She doesn’t move. I give her five minutes. “Fine. I thought we weren’t going to have this problem. I noticed it a little on Friday, but I was hoping I was wrong. Stand up.” She does. She set her blazer on the desk. I pull the tie out and lift her collar. I tie the tie in place and start to take her hair in my hands. She jumps away from me. “What the fuck.” I frown at her. “I gave you the chance to do it yourself. Now, your hair has to be pulled back. For now, I’m going to put it in a ponytail.” I take her hair again and she shudders, but let’s me do it. I then hold out the blazer for her to put on.

“Mrs.Prentiss, are we going to have a problem with your uniform in the future?” “No sir.” The door is knocked on. “Sir, I’m ready if she is.” “Prentiss, this is who you will be reporting to. This is Alex Blake.” Emily nods. Alex gives her a glare. “I understand sir.” I nod. “Mrs.Blake, I want a report of her progress at the end of the day.” “Yes sir.” I excuse both of them.

Emily’s POV

I follow Alex out of the room. We walk down a few hallways. She leads me into a room broker up into cubicles with one private room. I follow her to the furthest cubicle from the door. “This is your desk.If you don’t behave. You will lose privileges.” “Okay.” She sighs but let’s it go. Alex leaves me to get settled.

Hotch touching my hair really bothered me. I thought that things were maybe getting better. My dad used to come home from his day job and hit me and my mother. I left home as soon as I could. I haven’t had a man touch my hair since then. 

I get to work on the file on my desk. Alex walks in at the end of the day. “How did it go?” “Pretty well.” I hand her the file. She opens it and flips through it. “This is good, but not great. I’ll give you some pointers. Also mr.Hotchner wants to see you in his office at 7 tomorrow.” I nod.

Hotch's POV

Tuesday morning, my door is knocked on. “Come in.” Emily walks into my office. “I heard you wanted to see me sir.” I can hear the annoyance in her voice. I give her a once over. Her tie still isn’t on. Her hair isn’t pulled back, just her bangs are pinned back. “Mrs.Prentiss, fix your uniform.” She puts the tie on, but doesn’t touch her hair. “Your hair needs to be tied back.” She slowly does it. I hand her a file. “Look this over. I want it revised and returned to me by the end of the day.” “Yes sir.” “You can go now Mrs.Prentiss.” She gets up and leaves.

Penelope walks in two minutes later. “Hotch, what did you do to that poor girl?” I glare at her. “Pen, she needs to learn the rules.” “Give her a break. It’s her second day. What happened?” I sigh. She knows me too well. “Nothing.” She sticks her tongue out at me. “I know something happened, so tell me.” “Have I ever told you how much I hate you?” She laughs at me.

I sigh. “Fine. Sean’s coming.” “I’m sorry Hotch. I know how hard that is for you.” I nod. “He still believes that I stole the company from him. He should be here on Friday.” She puts her hand on mine. “I’ll make sure someone picks him up at the airport and brings him straight to your office.” “You’re the best Penelope, now I have work to do.” She smiles and leaves.

I spend the rest of the day going over briefings from meetings I had yesterday. I take notes on what I want to revisit and what just needs to be finalized. At 5:30, my door is knocked on. “Come in.” Emily walks in and hands me the file.

“Take a seat.” I can tell that she’s tense. I read over her report. “You have a knack for this. This file and yesterday’s were tests for me to see how you would do.” She seems confused. “I want you to be in charge of the eco project.” Her jaw drops. “You will give me weekly updates. Before you make changes, you need to get my approval.” “T-thank you sir. Can I ask, why are you letting me be in charge?” She’s skeptical. “You’re willing to take risks. You called me out on the first day. You’re willing to speak your mind and I think you can make this a great project.” She’s stunned. “Here’s my card. Give it some thought. Tomorrow you can work on other projects that have already started to be developed. Let me know what you decide.” “Thank you sir.”

She lets herself out. Penelope comes in. “I thought you had left for the night?” She glares at me. “What?” “Did you apologize to her?” “No, I didn’t. I know I should have, but I couldn’t do it.” She shakes her head. “Hotch, you need to cut her some slack.” I shrug. “She’ll be fine. I just gave her the eco project.”

She gasps. “I thought you said that was done and you were going to move on to rollout.” “Well, she called my bull.” I slightly smile. “You like her don’t you.” I blush. “Shut up Penelope.” “Hahaha, okay, I’ll see you tomorrow boss.” I shake my head as she leaves.

Friday comes all too soon. Emily still hasn’t given me an answer. I really want her to do it. She would be great at it. Sean should be here soon and I’m not looking forward to it. Penelope texts me that he’s landed. I groan. Time to be an adult and play nice. He gets here half an hour later. My door is knocked on. “Come in.” Sean walks in.

“Hello Sean.” “Hello Aaron, we need to talk.”

[purplesurveys]

937

Tell us something that made you happy yesterday. My dad made these amazing burritos that came with dips that were just as crazy good. It really felt like being at my favorite Mexican restaurants.

What were you up to at 8 am earlier today? I was driving to the office of the company where I had my interview in.

What were you doing 15 minutes ago? I was hanging out in the living room with my family. But soon enough I felt like being by myself, so now I’m back in my room.

The last thing you said out loud. “Oh shit, new episode” I keep forgetting GMM releases a new episode every 6 PM, and I just remembered like 4 minutes ago so I exclaimed said quote to myself and now I have their most recent ep playing alongside this survey.

The last thing someone said to you. “Goodnight, love you” from my mom.

What have you been drinking today? The first thing I drank was a bottle of C2 that I was given by the company I had my interview in this morning :) After that I had water, then when I ran an errand for my dad he got me my favorite drink from Starbucks as a thanks so now I’m drinking iced caramel macchiato all night tonight.

What was the last thing you ate? My dad made nilaga for dinner, but he knows I don’t like it so he made a burrito just for me to get me to eat haha

What was the last thing you bought? Haven’t bought anything for myself in a really long time, but the last thing I paid for period was Cooper’s vaccinations last Thursday. Poor guy, he’s started to recognize when we’re at the vet clinic and automatically starts squirming and crying once I hand him over to the vet assistants :(

What's the color of your front door? All our doors are brown.

What's the weather like outside?: COLDER. I am a happy, satisfied bean. It’s cold enough that I turn off the electric fan for a few hours at night now. Currently, the temperature is at 27ºC. 

Your favorite ice cream flavor. Cookies and cream, but recently I got to try Ben & Jerry’s chocolate chip cookie dough for the first time and that has quickly become my favorite too. Those cookie dough chunks are stupid good.

Who was the last person to call you? My dad.

Who was the last person you called? Gabie.

Do you believe in love at first sight? It’s probably possible for some and I certainly wouldn’t invalidate any testimony talking about falling in love at first sight, but it wouldn’t happen with me. I can’t make such a deep decision so quickly.

Do you sleep deeply? Very much. I can sleep through earthquakes, typhoons, and occasionally even alarms. At the same time, I’m also able to sleep very lightly whenever I need to be on alert or if I need to be up super early the next day. I guess I just have excellent control of my sleep lol.

Do you have nightmares? Sometimes. They come in much more frequently these days because I’ve been in a slump, so...not really having a good time in my sleep recently. Do you like your job? I think I just got accepted as an intern in my dream PR agency, and I’m over the moon about it <3 I feel really bad for putting in a lot of time with the other agency I applied to and visited this morning, and I might have to turn them down if they ever come to me with a job offer but...I’m choosing my dreams, man. Haha.

Your favorite outfit? I haven’t been regularly outside for a while so I’ve stopped having favorites.

Your favorite song at the moment? Lose by Niki. Gut-wrenching, but still a good listen especially if I need an emotional release, heh.

Who was the last person to sleep in your bed?: I don’t let anyone sleep in my bed other than my dogs, who both don’t like beds anyway.

What do you see when you turn your head to the right? I turned my bedroom upside down this morning trying to look for a notebook just in case I needed to write things down during my job interview, and I haven’t cleaned up said mess so there’s still a bit of a pile on my right.

What are you planning to do next? Another survey or maybe just marathon GMM entirely.

Are you right or left handed? Right.

Current mood: Thrilled about my new work, dejected about everything else.

Favorite candy: Does Reese’s count as candy? It’s my favorite chocolate snack ever.

Clothes you wear at the moment: T-shirt and shorts, my usual pairing at home.

Summer plans: That’s over now, but during that time I finished my thesis, helped in planning and managing our online college graduation, and graduated.

How many pillows do you sleep with? Two. One to lay my head on, and another to snuggle. If I’m missing one or have more than two, I will 100% have a hard time falling asleep. I’m very particular when it comes to my sleeping arrangements ha.

Cozy evening in or a night out at the club? Cozy evenings are nice on weekends but drinking/partying is really fun on Fridays and gives me a chance to unwind and treat myself.

Do you play any instrument? No. I don’t count the recorder because almost everyone can play that lol.

Are you a morning or a night person? Night. I’ve always liked staying up.

What's most important for you? My career and future, and making sure I work wherever I’m most happy and can grow the most in.

Are you ticklish? Yep, everywhere.

Do you snore? Occasionally I do this one loud snore and I’m aware of that fact because I always end up waking myself up HAHA. It’s always just that one snore though and I’m usually able to sleep silently right after.

Zodiac sign: Taurus.

The creepiest, most disgusting insect in the world is: Fucking cockroaches, man.

Messy or tidy: I’m messy tidy. Sometimes things will just end up too hectic and I fail to catch up and I make a mess in my room, but I always know where everything is.

What are you looking forward to right now? For my internship to start and to binge-watch GMM.

[wanderinglotus7]

Crazy Crazy Crazy

Some days I just want to scream! Between school, work, and internship, I feel like I’m working three full time jobs. And the pressure is on. This week I started midterms and work (gosh). I’m finished with midterms for Clinical and Macro plus one essay for Human Behavior. Now, I have two papers due next Wednesday and Thursday. I haven’t gotten much sleep lately because of midterms and work. Along with midterms, I still have to complete assignments for Field Education which I feel like I’m behind. I’ve done four assignments out of a long list of other things that need to get done before the end of the semester. And I still have to focus and complete tasks required of me from Amirah. It was brought up yesterday in class that Spring semester might be online again. If so, can students get a discount on our tuition for next semester.

Okay, Restaurant Depot didn’t workout. I went for an interview, killed it, got hired, and then three or four weeks later I receive an email saying I’m no longer an employee. How did I lose a job that I didn’t even start yet? All things happen for a reason. God has a better plan for me. Back to the drawing board! Blessed, I got an interview with Chipotle. Now this opportunity actually worked-out. I’m an official employee. I work Friday-Sunday on the evening shift part time. I commend all those working in food service; it isn’t as easy as you would think. Every shift so far, I’m coming home with my feet and back hurting. I’m overall exhausted because of the long days. Mondays and Thursdays are the only days I really have to catch up on sleep, but that doesn’t always happen because of school work. I’m not going to complain because I need the money. Also, my coworkers aren’t bad people, they are friendly. And God answered my prayer because I’m working with people around my age and I wanted a working environment like that. I never asked what my pay will be so I have to wait for my first paycheck in order to readjust my budget. I can’t forget that Chipotle is still close to my house, basically down the street, I get free food on every shift, and a fifty percent employee discount.

Amirah is going great! The commute isn’t too bad; it’s between forty to an hour depending on the traffic. Good thing Kandi is good on gas because I have to fill her up every Tuesday. I get my gas in the area of my field placement because it’s cheaper than in town and other places around. Amirah went over their goal for HOPE 2020 and are able to open their second safe home in CT. They are in the process of hiring people for positions in MA and CT. Because of COVID, we only have three participants residing in the home, and spots are still limited for new participants. However, we might receive more because last Friday Heather and Sarah did some interviews for new participants and employees. In development, the organization plans to open a community resource center in January. I do feel like I’m not doing enough, but that what’s happens when I compare myself to others (I really need to stop doing that). At the end of the day, I am Me, and I can only be Me. My approach to situations will always be different from someone else’s approach.

This move has been a rough adjustment like the fortune teller told me. Last month, I locked my keys in the car which lead to a massive mental breakdown in the shopping plaza parking lot. All the new changes and emotions I’ve ignored hit me hard that day. It was a headache, but everything got resolved. God has me covered! Without him I don’t know where I’ll be at. I’m always praying and listening to what he’s telling me (I try my best anyway). I’m still reading my bible & devotions, I found new pastors that I relate to and seek ministry, and I always take the time to tell the Lord that I’m forever grateful for everything he keeps doing for me each and every day. 

I need to do a better job of taking care of myself mentally. I keep placing this unnecessary stress on myself which makes life more complicated than it needs to be. I’ve been using my individual supervision at my internship as little therapy sessions which has been helpful. It’s nice just to hear myself out-loud without feeling crazy. I might need to change my self care practices just a bit especially with the weather changing (the cold in Boston is no joke). What’s consistent is journaling and listening to music. I haven’t written much poetry lately, however, I’m going to try completing the book Patricia gifted me. It’s a poetry activity book. I’ve done two topics, the next one is First Love (that’s going to be interesting). When things do get chaotic, I have people in my life that I can lean on. I need to work on allowing these individuals to be there for me, and ask for help when I know I need help. Suffering/struggling in silence isn’t healthy. Next Tuesday, I begin group therapy for my bulimia & body image.

I told myself last year that If I get into another relationship it was going to be a serious committed relationship that is going to lead to a future. I guess what...I’m in a relationship. And it’s with a former ex boyfriend. I don’t if that term really applies he’s the only boyfriend & ex I ever had. If I were to tell the entire story in-depth it would sound so complicated. Honestly, I thought I was going to meet someone while in grad school or meet someone (or people) in Boston. Me and Erik never really let each other go I guess. Some how we always end up reconnecting in some type of way. I struggled for a long time to understand if this was a sign that we should be together or this was a start to a toxic cycle. Either way, I approached the situation with caution. It’s been three years. A lot of things have happened during that time. We are different people. We both agreed that at the beginning neither of us was ready to be in a relationship, but we both tried in our broken states. It’ just a lot for me especially after finding closure and forgiveness and he reappears into my life (double whammy). No matter what, through the disappointment and dishonesty, I never stopped caring about him. I was always there supporting him through everything. Honestly, it wasn’t an easy decision, but I gave him another chance. I do see the changes he has made over the three years. Praying this is a blessing.

[fortheheavenssake]

💟💟 PG MM Anon(II) 💟💟 Interpretation Collection -12

74. July 29

Kids I want to let you know this riddle is not as funny as some of the other ones because a subject matter is just so serious💜😊PG😊💜

MM Anon

MM ANON …… colourful Cam !!…………… Fast Far-raar-ri blast. …………” let your daughter breathe “…………… A niece wedding …………… Inappropriate funds??………… Bush tragedy ……………… inappropriately shamed royal ………… a pricey disinfect ………… “ you’re a spot on gun Man Sydney!!”………… “ a privilege sir” ……… “ how’s the shoulder?” ……… “ I’ll recover sir “……… “ it’s stopped bleeding “ ……… “ just a flesh wound sir “ ……… “ next week Sydney? ……… “ I hear the Gillie comes highly recommend sir”……… “Ahh, spiffing!! “

Entertainment purposes

💜💜💜💜😂😂🤣🤣🤣Thank you MM Anon🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜💜. Just so you know I put the laughing faces in there because of the the vignettes with the Prince Philip and Sydney are just hilarious!

July 29/2020

Prince Charles and Lady Diana Spencer wed this day in 1981 at St. Paul’s Cathedral. I was like 13 or 14 or so and remember it like yesterday!!

Riddle #74

colourful Cam !!……………

OK I looked and looked and looked and I’m looking at this and I could colourful is self-explanatory cam I’m pretty sure means Cambridge and two!‘s so that usually means to people who stuck stuck nothing I can find fits this. I’m gonna leave it for now and come back.

I don’t think MM Anon is meaning colourful in the term of red white blue green purple orange etc. . I think she means colourful as in telling a funny story you know that is all that’s a colourful story and funny all that kind of thing.Prince William revealed how he made his bodyguard pose as a sniper to scare off a rival football player when he was a schoolboy because ‘everyone wanted to break my legs’.

The Duke of Cambridge, then Prince William, asked his a RPO, to shine a laser’s red dot at the boy pretending to be a sniper. He told this colourful story revelation on an episode of the BBC Radio Five Live’s That Peter Crouch Podcast. The future king’s candid comments came as he shared embarrassing stories over a pint. During the chat at Kensington Palace, they had a curry delivered. I think I wanna find this podcast because I think it probably was absolutely hilarious. Imagine a young boy sneaking over that ha ha Ha ha ha that’s awesome! Good on you William good on you!

Fast Far-raar-ri blast. …………”

We’re talking about a Ferrari hear the Italian car. This kids is again another example of how frightening fake things can be seen as real we see it on Instagram we see CGI and almost every movie that people actors don’t even have to act anymore it’s it’s all fake everything is fake now. Except us we are all real! There is a video that fooled and tricked aka lied to millions. The viral footage of a Ferrari driver ‘escaping from police by driving underneath a truck’ was fake says its creator. He revealed how he did it. The Original video was posted online last Friday and gained 3.1million views. It showed a Ferrari F430 escaping from police car by driving through gap between truck’s wheels. Graphics artist Dionisis Sakas demonstrated in new video how he made footage.He used CGI, a computer-generated image of a Ferrari, truck and police car over bus dashcam footage of road. DISGUSTING! Get a job, volunteer , do something useful in this world instead of spreading more lies like this, that’s sick!

“ let your daughter breathe “……………

This is a sugar is bringing race into it! Black Lives Matter!Both Eric Garner, several years ago in NYC and George Floyd were saying l can’t breathe l can’t breathe lcan’t breathe as a police officer had his knees on his neck! They are equating that incident with what’s going on here! That my friends is a level of mentality we are dealing with! The level of insanity that the sugars possess! I am convinced that when things happen in handcuffs involved charges are laid whatever is going to happen they will be having some sort of physical manifestation, they Well riots gather together range on Twitter for meetings throw stones who knows what it every British Embassy in the United States. I say that because she’s American and I do believe most of the sugars are although she has them all over the world. This is very very very serious verbiage! Wow I am shocked and I don’t get shocked easily wow wow is all I can say! Leave Madam alone! Duchess’s fans aka sugars, rage as dad Thomas Markle hits out ‘Let your daughter breathe’! Well we need a time that since Madame and I’ve been going crazy on her PR we knew it was just a matter time before daddy market would march into the rescue or not to the rescue this time this time is criticizing! I finally caught up on my sleep so let’s give me a minute here to backtrack the daily mail reported that this is now Wednesday morning Monday Monday they reported done he had been interviewed I think on good morning Britain or something there was an article about him anyways criticizing the book and attack criticizing that they were attacking the royal family etc. etc. etc. etc. Madam’s fans/ SUGARS took to Twitter to shield the Madam, from her father’s latest attack. Her estranged father, who lives in Rosarito, Mexico, spoke to the press in the wake of new revelations about the dramatic events leading up to the gathering of unhappy people in May 2018. My my my my my what are those sugars gonna do when it hits the fan and things are really come out and charge to start to come then I’ll my goodness. All these young women what are they gonna do join antifa and form their own gang and try and destroy British Embassy is around the United States or wherever they all live I would imagine most of them live in the United States because she’s American but she probably has sugar is all over the world oh it’s going to be an interesting interesting interesting slideshow to continue to watch that slideshow side show not slide shows sideshow there you go where are you got a good job software good job good job software! Oh you’re typing your compliment twice well good for you you’ve been working hard I’m putting you to the test yes I am talking to my iPad because I think it’s a little sensitive because if I get if it doesn’t like what I’m saying it’ll beep and stop working so I’m whispering as quietly hopefully it doesn’t hear me because I don’t want to hurt it’s sensitive feelings!🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂😂

A niece wedding ……………

How marvellous oh the three Spencer girls oh they’re so beautiful remember them at William and Catherine’s wedding oh they’re so beautiful all. So lady Amelia and lady allies are twins but their paternal twins they don’t look like they’re not identical twins at all but they’re both gorgeous. And all three of these girls and their brother grew up in South Africa. And lady Amelia has been attending Cape Town University where she met her beau, Who she met at the University,Greg Mallet, an estate agent, who is equally well-connected and wealthy. They’ve been together for 10 years and he finally proposed and the picture I have seen are beautiful. She has gorgeous looks kind of like an oval but I think I I think it might be a circle diamond and looks to be surrounded by hail or smaller diamonds it looks beautiful but I’m hoping to see a really clear picture of it that’s why I have not really seen one. Congratulations to them. 🥂

inappropriate

Some people crochet, some people knit,some people do scrapbooking, some people garden,some people take music lessons,there’s all kinds of hobbies in this world! However I have never heard of one quite like this and words fail me.😁DM slightly edited by moi😁 GM allegedly took photos of topless young girls as a ‘hobby’, shocking unearthed court documents reveal. The 58-year-old kept them in a photo album at pedophile JE’s Florida mansion, his former butler Juan Alessi claimed.A judge last week ordered the unsealing of documents related to M and E from a defamation case brought by victim VRG in 2015. The documents could include details about GM’s sex life and among the original files unsealed in 2018 was the eye witness account of Alessi. Alessi told VRG’s lawyers in a sworn deposition that GM had an album full of photos of young girls, including some who were topless. GM shared her alleged hobby for nude 'art’ with JE who had photos of naked girls and women - including GM- plastered all over his mansion.Alessi also claimed in his deposition that he discovered sex toys including,😮😮😮😮😮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮l edited, in the massage room of JE’s Palm Beach mansion. The then-maintenance man also claims he saw a 'shiny black costume’ in GM’s closet that he believed was used for sex. Was he the butler the maintenance man those are two diametrically opposed positions, I don’t understand. What was he doing in her closet if you do the maintenance man? People are all I feel like I need to be sprayed down disinfected maybe this is the price he disinfect clue disinfect oh gross!DM😁additions and slightly edited by moi.

funds??…………

The pressure grows on millionaire farmer Ben Goldsmith, as it emerges he benefited from £25,000 in EU subsidies last year! Ben Goldsmith, brother of environment minister Zac, claimed £25k in EU cash.The 39-year-old millionaire farmer is also a non-executive director of Defra.He has been accused of releasing red deer and wild boar on his land in Somerset.The release of such animals is contrary to current Defra rules and regulations. You know kids, it seems that at every level they’re playing the game! Money changing hands over fist, forget morals,forget ethics, forget everything and anything, just money money money money money makes me think of that song I think it’s by Dire Straits money money money oh!

There is also the bigger issue the money from the Sussex fund and all of that missing money allegedly that a certain Madam may have had now spent or had possession of. I’m not gonna go into that because I don’t think that’s the clue right now.

Bush tragedy ………………

I can hardly cope, l can’t imagine how her parents are managing and her family. I don’t know, I’ve been I prayed for this little girl since the day she went missing she would be found alive. Madeleine McCann investigators resume digging at German allotment patch owned by chief suspect Christian Brueckner as his apartment just three miles away is revealed. And if you look where they’re digging if you see the pictures there’s trees all around so at least in Canada we would call that the bush. Investigators have begun their second day of searching an allotment in Germany three miles from an apartment where suspect Christian Brueckner once lived. Up to 100 officers using small diggers and sniffer dogs continued to excavate the vegetable garden outside Hannover, where Brueckner lived after the three-year-old vanished in 2007.A tent has been erected on the plot concealing the exact nature of the search, and a wide cordon with wire netting has set been up around the allotment.Two small tents have been set up in a field opposite the main dig site, while a fleet of German police vehicles lined the side of the small country road while commuter traffic drove past.An apartment block in Hannover has been identified as Brueckner’s last known address in the city, and German media says he may have lived on the allotment itself - possibly in his trailer.Detectives have been bagging up pieces of evidence and yesterday discovered a cellar underneath a long-demolished gazebo as they scour for clues that could link Brueckner to Madeleine’s disappearance. If you’re so inclined please say a prayer for this family but they finally get some answers and that they find little Madeleine so they can bring her home.🥺🥺🥺🥺🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

inappropriately shamed royal …………

CARAS, some places I’ve read say it’s a Spanish magazine some have said Portuguese either way that’s the name of the magazine. CARAS comes under fire for calling Queen Maxima’s daughter and heir to the Dutch throne , Princess Amalia, 16, as 'plus-size’ on its front cover as critics claim it’s 'dangerous’ and 'disrespectful’! I have said to you kids before, this is the last thing that it’s OK to make fun of people who are overweight and I know personal experience!! It just, it it never ends ,whether iit’s in school whether to University, no matter how beautiful you are , a high functioning and intelligent and whatever, it’s it’s still OK to do mock overweight people!🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬And it goes to stop so far as to people getting hired for jobs or not etc. etc. etc. it’s all it’s so disgusting! She is a beautiful girl oh man what is it gonna do to her psyche she’s 16 oh 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻hell me!The trashy gossip magazine Caras has been slammed by Argentine media outlets. Princess Catharina-Amalia and Queen Maxima were chosen for mag’s July cover.The magazine described the teenage heir to the Dutch throne as 'plus-size’ woman! She is 16 she is a young lady she is not a woman! Subsequently I do believe they have issued an apology an apology but the damage is done the damage is done it’s an in with the damage is done there’s no undoing this absolutely know I’m doing this for her personally! My heart just aches for her she is so beautiful so beautiful oh my heart just aches for that girl oh my! Kids think back to when you were 16 so insecure and so you know trying to fit in and all that other garbage. Do you think high school the most important thing in the world. And she’s going to be the Queen she is going to be the Queen! Oh man my heart aches for her.☹️☹️☹️🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜 I am sending lots of love and prayers to Princess Amalia !

a pricey disinfect …………

The first thing that came into my mind when I read this with the money that her Majesty offered Madam to leave before The gathering of unhappy people. This is my gut and this is what I’m going to go with. This may not be the correct answer that you were looking for MM Anon but it is what I feel applies most importantly here. This fight has been in the works for years and years at the highest level on the planet, funded by the highest level on the planet. It has been a plot to take down 1000 year old monarchy and totally destroy the country that voted to exit the EU! Brexit would’ve brought about a whole bunch of changes and it will yet hopefully. And her Majesty the Queen is God’s representative on the throne she’s been holy ordained. She is the head of the church of England. I truly believe that there is a worldwide organization of people who serve the dark master. If one believes in God one has to believe in Satan there’s no one with the old the other there’s good and there’s bad. There are many many many who serve the Darkside in the evil of the ways. That is what we have been watching. I firmly believe the first line attack was through JE towards prince Andrew. Prince Andrew was naïve in in a sense of being a royal very much detachment from the ordinary person. There’s no way he could have ever imagined or fortold that anything like this would happen. I do not believe he has any interest in young girls. Does he have a healthy sexual appetite did he absolutely he was a young healthy fit handsome man yes of course, what was going to judge him for that? Do you honestly can’t believe that he and Sarah his wife could’ve raised to such sound wonderful young women as the princess Beatrice and princess Eugenie without being sound themselves? I believe this started in earnest at that point and they had no success. So they had to continue and plot to find a way in and there was Prince Harry, lost in an emotional wasteland trying to find some direction is life after leaving the military. That’s begin the process of finding a female willing to do the deeds, the first one they found changed her mind. But then as evil does, it finds its perfect mate and that was Madam and the whole collection of “family” that she has. A group of cons and grifters at their finest or worst however you look at it. She is a female who’s willing to do anything and everything and has done anything and everything! FOR MONEY! She is narcissistic to the point of pathology. Please I’ve read a few people say she has schizophrenia or is “schizophrenic”. I have worked with dozens and dozens of people with schizophrenia, they do not possess narcissistic traits. Most of them are shy and embarrassed of their symptoms and most of them are young men who who just develop it in their early teens are in their 20s. I am not saying that women don’t develop schizophrenia they certainly do. But the majority of people that I worked with have developed our young men that have developed it in their late teens and 20s often as a result of the use of marijuana a lot of marijuana. They use marijuana to quiet the voices in their head. And it does work for some of them they say it does help. People with schizophrenia do not behave like this they’re thinking is disorganized, they live in an alternate reality even though they can often quite communicate or are mute. They are not capable of being this way and this plot to this degree. I’m not saying they’re not capable, they can be employed and they’re wonderful people just like anybody else with diabetes or whatever. I truly wish that that Stigma and that those thoughts about schizophrenia would change. I really encourage you, if you if your care, if you care, just to do a little bit of reading even though Wikipedia reading of what schizophrenia is it’ll help you understand what millions of people struggle with on a daily basis. Back to Madam psychiatric diagnosis would be Axis ll narcissistic personality disorder or NPD. I do also believe she possesses some Axis lll issues as well, by this time referring to her variety of

hobbies be there a liquid or powder or any of the above. So we have gone through years now of the monarchy being dragged through this sea hags filth and worse yet our beloved prince Harry, through a young man’s foolish to date on a booty call, which I mean let’s face that millions of people do every day even famous people do every day. And the plans, she was, she was ready to the point where she was wearing Diana‘s favourite perfume. Olfactory memory is the strongest memory humans possess. It is so powerful it triggers so much emotion. So when he walked in and sat down at the table to have a drink with her and smelled her perfume just imagine the flood of endorphins and things that he may not even have been consciously aware of that were triggered and his brain just imagine just sit yourself down there and imagine. And then as things progressed you know the story. And the filth has permeated the planet, it has permeated race relations, it has permeated in the resulting or sugars it has permeated in the Black Lives Matter fascist group That is being well funded by the people that plotted, the backers. They have just been laying in wait waiting for the right moment. Do you think all these people just happen to gather together and had weapons and stuff just at the drop of a hat?How would they know to go where to go, what to do, where to meet? Cities are huge and yet they all seem to go on the in the exact same area. Do you think that’s a coincidence? Do you think that’s a coincidence that it’s happening all over the United States and all over the UK and all over the world in different places? Do you think that’s OK? Do you think that’s a coincidence? I myself do not believe in coincidences. Go back to your high school or university physics Newtons law of physics, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Nothing happens by coincidence, everything we do whether it’s in thought act or deed that is put out into the universe it affects something somebody or somehow. This was all planned. Her Majesty the Queen was wise enough to know this, as well as British intelligence, to be monitoring all these things to let her know and the government know. She was wise enough to call Lord Geidt back into service. Thank God he was agreeable! He immediately, I am certain recognized the severity of what the situation was. They have planned and they have played the long game, all while keeping calm and carrying on and looking beautiful. And due to the scale the Crown never fails! And what we see now are the results of them playing the long game. Madam imploding upon herself due to her own behaviour and her own narcissism. I do believe we’re near the end I do believe any day now as I said yesterday imminently, we will receive some announcement of some sort. Her Majesty is safely ensconced at Balmoral for three months usually her usual 12 weeks. I’m sure more security than she’s ever had there before and there’s more security around all the royal family members that we’ve ever ever had before. We will never see that security. We will never notice them. They are that good. They could be the seventy year old lady on the street, still able to be just as dangerous as any criminal. We are coming to a close Madam,is all that done. And the backers?? I’m not sure where things are at, but London scoop said this will involve the world but mostly the UK the United States and Australia. The United States is on fire with these antifa riots. The democratic cities mayors and governors of certain states are refusing to take action I’m naming Oregon and Washington in particular I feel so sorry for those people who have businesses and who live in those areas that are being rioted night after night after night especially in Portland I’m thinking of Portland Oregon. There’s a presidential election in November this year. One would never know it usually all you see on the news are debates and candidates and all that. But we’re not seeing that we’re seeing coronavirus and riots. And what I’ve seen of the democratic nominee, and the party as a whole has

me very very concerned. He has yet, I don’t think he has had a press conference.? I am not aware and when I have seen is a gentleman who is quite elderly who oh, I don’t want to insult anybody who is democratic here,but who is buying into these far left wing fascist agenda who seems to at times doesn’t know what city he’s in. And there was a video that I saw he was standing with a few couples who were with their children and I don’t know what awards he was giving out, but he was massaging the shoulders and pulled her close to him tightly with his arm around her, little girl next to him and you could could Around her shoulders and you could see the look on her face that she was so uncomfortable and she tried to pull closer to her parents who were holding another child and he pulled her back in. I’m telling you I don’t know where that was taken but it was so, it was so hard for me to watch, oh you know something I said I pray for that little girl I pray for that child. I’m not saying he’s he’s a paedophile anything don’t get me wrong but I’m just talking about boundaries just boundaries. Anyhow say what you will about President Trump many people do regularly! I’m gonna get myself in trouble here but I do believeI do believe if he does not win the reelection I fear the collapse of the United States. I don’t know how they’re even going to be able to have an election in the midst of this coronavirus, how do you know how long the quested are to vote to take their long long long long. Oh kids this is the expensive disinfecting and we all are paying a price and continue to and will continue to.

“ you’re a spot on gun Man Sydney!!”………… “ a privilege sir” ……… “ how’s the shoulder?” ……… “ I’ll recover sir “……… “ it’s stopped bleeding “ ……… “ just a flesh wound sir “ ……… “ next week Sydney? ……… “ I hear the Gillie comes highly recommend sir”……… “Ahh, spiffing!! “

Well we return to the beautiful vista that is Balmoral castle and it’s I will be 15,000acres acres in beautiful at the Aberdeenshire. I spent my share of time not at Balmoral but in Aberdeen Aberdeen sure all the first the Firth of Forth!! Oh my it’s so beautiful I’ve taken so many pictures and hanging on my living room wall I have a black-and-white photo l took, I think it’s like 11 x 18 or something it’s so beautiful oh so beautiful the river there’s a bridge going over the river and the time I took the picture was an autumn so the leaves were all so gorgeous oh man it’s so beautiful. One of the first things that hit me the very first time I tasted tapwater in Scotland and I happen to be in her and I are just outside Aberdeen where I was staying with my friends and I have never had water that taste is so beautiful it was pure it was cold it was fresh it was free from chemicals no chlorine Teays know anything and there was no water filter on the top of their they did not have a reverse osmosis filter like everybody here has now it was so good oh and I just kept remarking on and everybody kept laughing at me how good the water was. Then we went out for lunch at all man I stupid Canadiana CanadianaWe are ordering lunch and came to my turn to order lunch should I order lunch and I want to more of that water and she looked at me and she said would you like flat or still and I I just like what what and I looked at my restaurant we want to find especially that I had came there to see and he was like she’ll have still ha ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha. And then after I said what what is that and he says oh Blondie never mind ha ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha I’ll never forget that oh man that was so funny. anyhow back to Balmoral, sounds like the hunting trip had a bit of a Dick Cheney moment. If you don’t know who took Dick Cheney, he was an American politician and he accidentally shot another politician that he was hunting with a severe it was this it wasn’t severe but all man oh man. so himself is complementing Sydney on how well he is spotting him with the gun and making sure it’s ready and loaded and everything and just what a successful hunting day they had. And Sydney ever the dutiful a butler said yes he concurs it was just just smashing and then himself ask him how his shoulder is and he’s ha ha Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha I can’t continue ha ha ha ha still funny way too funny ha ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha.I shall continue I can come compose myself myself and continue. Himself ask Sydney how his shoulder is Sydney says it all recover all recover sir I am I shall recover, it stopped bleeding it stop bleeding and I shall recover in just a flesh room so just just a flesh room can you not hear the accent so can you hear the accent just a flesh wound sir! Capital , Sydney, Capital! Then planning for next weeks outing, Himself asks Sydney, are you ready for next weeks outing and he replies oh yes sir , I hear the Gilly comes high they recommended sir. Himself says sniffing smashing , wonderful , marvellous , looking forward to it and Sydney is just shivering in this boots. MM Anon, you have no idea how I can picture these things in my head and I was just all man’s took me forever to do because I was laughing so hard!

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

—————-

75. July 29

MM ANON………… Peter,Crouch with William ………… 🎼Son in Law🎼…………Facebook , Apple, google …………��� 5 friends , Shhhhhh !!!……………… very upset islands………… MM is leaking 🤣🤣………… Refund , Shmeefund.…………Heath-row row!!……… “Why is ones arm in a sling Sydney ??…………… “ I slipped exiting the LR ma’am………” where was Philip ?………… “ sitting in the back ma’am”……” hello old thing, what’ho Sydney “ ……… good afternoon sir”……” Sydney had a hiatus Philip “……… “ O dear, looks sore Sydney “ ……” yes sir”…… “VERY!!”

Entertainment purposes

💜💜💜💜😊😊😊😊🌈🌈🌈🌈Thank you MM Anon🌈🌈🌈🌈😊😊😊😊💜💜💜💜

July 29/2020. Riddle#75

Peter,Crouch with William …………

Peter Crouch has a podcast on the BBC. Yesterday Prince William was on there with him and some other chaps I can’t remember their names. The purpose was Williams continuing goal to bring awareness to the issues regarding mental health. They had a good talk over a pint and they ordered some curry. The topic of mental health continues to be of importance however there were some very very funny stories that came out of the meeting. One was a prince William gave Catherine, remember they were not married yet they were still dating, he gave her a set of binoculars oh dear for a gift one time. The funniest story he told that when he was young and the other boys were picking on him and one especially wanted to break his legs and kept threatening to. William got the idea to get his RPO to take a laser and shine it on the guys forehead so there would be a red dot 🔴 on his forehead and William told him that there was a sniper if you did anything bad.🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂😂😂 Can you kids just imagine oh man I’ve laughed so hard about that and I’m still laughing I’m still laughing!

🎼Son in Law🎼…………

I thank the website beyondthejoke.co.uk for this information. It was very hard to find,very very hard but I am like Inspector gadget or the RCMP we always get our man and I always get some sort of answer for each clue. They’re not always right but they’re often funny if they’re wrong ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha by the way it’s on the way it’s a win-win situation right it’s a win-win plus it’s free! I should be charging you kids me and Eminem MM Anon and could make a fortune not Eminem no no no.A new video depicting Donald Trump performing a song in praise of his son-in-law, Jared Kushner, is today revealed as being the work of The Simpsons and Spinal Tap star Harry Shearer. Son in Law is the first track to be released from Shearer’s forthcoming album, The Many Moods of Donald Trump, a cycle of satirical songs inspired by the last four years of US politics and in particular the often mercurial behaviour of the current occupant of The White House.The video of the track uses ground-breaking motion-capture animation to portray the US President lionizing his senior advisor and husband of his daughter Ivanka. At one point it shows the spookily real Trump with his hand casually hovering over the nuclear button on his desk in The Oval Office, whilst extolling the virtues of his daughter’s curves.Harry Shearer says, “You can’t fire family, but you can sing about them.”Written by Shearer, the old-style New Orleans R&B song has The Simpsons star on vocals in an eerily accurate impersonation of the President of The United States. He is joined by a band of top New Orleans musicians who include David Torkanowsky of The Astral Project and Stanton Moore Trio on piano and organ, The Metres star George Porter, Jr. on bass, Raymond Weber of Dumpstaphunk on drums, leading saxophonist Brad Walker, Scott Frock of Delfeayo Marsalis’ Uptown Jazz Orchestra, on trumpet, and one of New Orleans’ top trombonists Jon Ramm. The track is mixed by long-time Harry Shearer musical collaborator C J Vanston at The Treehouse North Hollywood and produced by David Torkanowsky. It was recorded in New Orleans and Los Angeles. I will provide the link if you are so inclined to take a peek. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZtptN8bfl3M

Some of you may find it offensive and some of you may get a good laugh out of it and a bit of both. I will leave it up to you to decide. I lasted about 30 seconds and that was enough for me. I’m not trying to influence you in anyway you you do you kids you do you as the kids say now!

Facebook , Apple, google ……………

The U.S. Congress is to grill Bezos, Cook, Zuckerberg, and Pichai: CEOs of Amazon, Google, Apple and Facebook whose firms are worth a combined $5.5trillion agree to appear TOGETHER before House antitrust panel!Jeff Bezos, Mark Zuckerberg, Tim Cook and Sundar Pichai will testify in late July. They will appear before House Judiciary Committee’s antitrust panel.FYI😁Antitrust refers to relating to legislation preventing or controlling trusts or other monopolies, with the intention of promoting competition in business.FYI😁The panel has been investigating tech firms’ alleged anti-competitive practices.Amazon, Facebook, Apple, and Google are accused of stifling competition. Bezos, the CEO of Amazon, was initially reluctant to testify before lawmakers.Lawmakers reportedly threatened Bezos, world’s richest man, with subpoena.Apple CEO Cook, was also hesitant, prompting lawmakers to consider subpoena.But they eventually relented on condition that all four CEOs appear jointly. Well isn’t that special! It’s like a meeting of the three heads of the biggest mafia families, sorry no insult meant to the mafia. Have you ever seen Mark Zuckerberg testify? Have you ever seen Star Trek the next generation? There’s a character on there his name is Data, he’s an android but he’s very human. Every time I see Mark Zuckerberg, I see Data, pardon the pun aka data🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂😂😂😂! Last time he testified there was no affect on his face and he gave, he must be related to Madam,because all he gave us a bunch of word salad nonsense that made no sense. It was far above the technical level of any of the people asking questions. This time I hope they have people who have done their research who actually know about these industries to actually ask the important questions!

5 friends , Shhhhhh !!!………………

Oh Madam’s legal team were in court today, ahead of court tomorrow. They put in a what’s it called….. It is not the deposition I mean use the word request until I can find the proper legal word. 😁FOUND IT😁Her legal team applied for an order to keep the identities of the 5 women confidential and not name them publicly. Funniest thing a member of her legal team said the last name of one of the women in court! Imagine that they’re wanting something kept quiet and the attorney cannot even keep quiet wowza, I wouldn’t want that attorney! The judge instructed that that name be removed from the record. Basically what they did is they want the court to keep schtüm and not publicly reveal the names of the “” five friends” who spoke to people magazine about Madam. Madam has denied having given permission or even having any for knowledge about this issue. Court will be interesting tomorrow I can hardly wait wait! Given her success and I’m using that very sarcastically, with the book that she allegedly had no part in, but everything came from her mouth, and should be very very very interesting and that’s putting it mildly!I just took a wee wander over to the daily mail and there’s a new article they’re saying that she has lost a part of the bed and she has to pay £67,000 in AND legal bills ha ha Ha ha ha I think that’s hilarious ha ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha that’s hilarious hilarious justice hitting her right where it hurts most money her pocketbook awesome!

very upset islands…..

You kids remember the show with Ricardo Montalban called fantasy Island. I remember Ricardo Montalban doing a car commercial and in his accent,he would say, this is made with fine Corinthian leather ha ha Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! He also played Kahn in the Star Trek movies, one Captain Kirk yelled Kahn re member that all you Star Trek friend Kahn!🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂OK OK I’m gonna do the riddle now pardon me for adding some humour in this!I’m going back in the 80s it’s on one of the cable channels I get I watch it every now and then is so cheesy it is just so beyond the pale of it’s hilarious and at that time we thought it was like the greatest thing I remember the love boat came on and then fantasy Island that was Saturday night TV love boat and then fantasy Island wow what a wild child hood I lived eh?🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂. Ibiza, Mallorca and Canary Islands’ tourism chiefs have launched desperate bid to open ‘safe air corridors’ with the UK to save their summer seasons after the two-week quarantine was announced. Canary & Balearic Islands officials hoping to establish ‘safe air corridors’ with UK. This comes after the U.K. government ordered British tourists to self-isolate on returning from Spain.Spain has been taken off of the safe travel list after a spike in coronavirus cases.The decision was described as a ‘hammer blow’ by hotel bosses in Benidorm.Town mayor Toni Perez insisted he would still encourage holidaymakers to com.

From the BBC, I shall attempt to say this in my best old fashioned BBC British accent.😁 The UK’s biggest tour operator, Tui, has cancelled all mainland Spanish holidays until 9 August.The move comes after the government imposed a 14-day quarantine on people arriving in the UK from Spain.The firm said all those going to the Balearic and Canary Islands could still travel as planned from Monday.The airline industry has reacted with dismay to the decision to impose the quarantine, calling it a big blow.The Foreign and Commonwealth Office (FCO) is advising against all but essential travel to mainland Spain. Quarantine measures apply to those returning from mainland Spain, the Canary Islands and the Balearic Islands, such as Majorca and Ibiza.British Airways is still operating flights, but said the move was “throwing thousands of Britons’ travel plans into chaos”.Budget airline easyJet is also maintaining a full schedule, as is Jet2. That’s all from the BBC for now good night. You can always go to BBC.co.uk with other information!😁😁😁 how did I do did you hear my old fashioned British accent and NOT RECEIVED PRONUNCIATION☺️😁😁😁?Do you think I could work for the BBC in 1950? Can I go on Doctor Who and get him somehow to take me back in time so, but I wasn’t born then yet oh that’s a little spanner in the mix is it not,have to have a think on that.

MM is leaking 🤣🤣…………

MM is leaking. Are you OK MM Anon? Do you have drafty windows and a maybe a hole in the roof and the waters coming in? When it rains?Or maybe you’re just like Madam you just want somebody to ask you are you OK ha ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha! After what you went through last week my goodness was it the week before you are more than OK my friend thank God! 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you scroll way on back and you’ll you’ll read all about it!! OK I’ll get serious now this is regarding my least favourite person on the planet Madam, she’s leaking in every way possible she’s bleeding money she’s bleeding whatever was left of her public image and today she got an alarm and I love it she has to pay £67,000 in legal fees for the ANL ha ha ha ha ha ha oh ha ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha oh God has a funny sense of humour does He not, oh thank you Lord! Her legal team went to court in attempt to stifle the release of the name of the five women who went to people magazine, totally unknown ,unaware she was totally not involved didn’t give approval didn’t know it was gonna happen. Right then, remember the other day I said there was a bridge in the Sahara desert? Well it’s still for sale and anyone who believes that just come on over and I’ll give you a tour and I’ll give you a real good price on that Desert bridge! After all they’re making air bridges now so so what’s wrong with a desert bridge ha ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha.The funniest thing and I said it before but the funniest thing about the whole thing is they’re just wanting to keep that confidential and one of her legal team mentioned the surname of one of the women would one question the competency of the members of her legal team? I think I might I’m not an attorney I’m not even a paralegal like like Madam was on like TV, and like like she thinks like, she’s a paralegal for real like, now and knows all about the UK laws and everything like totally! That was my doing my best California speak every other word is like like this OK like that OK well like that’s cool like like this for like a walk and we can like take the dog and we can like go for coffee and then we can go for like a movie and then we can like maybe rent a movie actually and then we can like go home and like make dinner and like and like and like and like that’s how they speak! Hope I’m not insulting anything maybe that’s just cliché but that’s what I seen on TV it is so annoying. It’s just like people who are constantly using foul language like on the regular,like not like when there’s a serious incident like it’s just it just blows my mind. There are so many words in the English dictionary there’s no need on the regular to be using foul language. I’m not saying I have never uttered some, you want some when I was still driving that when somebody cut me off or whatever I uttered my share but not on the regular never! OK back to the riddle now😁😁😁So the judge ordered that name to be stricken from the record! It’s going to be really really interesting to see what happens in court tomorrow I can hardly wait! I’m like a dog dog, Pavlov‘s dog just celebrating celebrating celebrating oh golly I have got to hand typed that SALIVATING!! If you don’t know about Pavlov‘s dogs just go to google please thank you.

Refund , Shmeefund.…………

What a non-summer it’s been eh? No fairs no carnivals, no music concerts outdoors, no outdoor team sports it’s just been a right off!The ones from the UK that would like you to go on holiday and have a lovely time were shocked to learn that all there’s a snap decision and when you return you have to for quarantine for 14 days! Those people who do have jobs will have to miss 14 days! How this coronavirus it’s just it it’s just it’s like the Friday the 13th movies’ Jason in the mask, 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂😂I didn’t mean a pun by Jason in the mask ha ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha mask get it?? Bad puns l know but the best ones are the accidental ones like this one! Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha sorry I’m laughing and when I’m laughing it types ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha oh I’m so sorry! But we need a wee bit of humour in this do we not! It just keeps coming and coming and coming and going and accelerating and spreading in affecting in and infecting it is unbelievable! Holidaymakers struggle to get refunds With holidaymakers still owed millions of pounds for cancelled holidays and flights, many will be reluctant to rebook if their trip is cancelled. Some major travel companies are still refusing to issue refunds as required by law, insisting customers rebook their trip or accept vouchers instead. We approached the UK’s 10 biggest package holiday providers and 10 largest airlines at the end of April, and found none were consistently meeting their legal requirements to refund consumers within the statutory timeframe. Companies including TUI, Love Holidays, Virgin Holidays and Ryanair are issuing credit notes for cancelled bookings in the first instance, even when customers have asked for cash refunds. Following months of pressure from Which?, the government has finally confirmed that credit notes issued for air-based packages have the same financial protection as the holidays they replace, so if a travel company collapses, customers will be refunded by the travel industry Atol scheme. However, vouchers issued for scheduled flights booked separately aren’t covered by the Atol scheme and have no financial protection. Clients still have a legal right to a cash refund instead of a credit note or voucher, if that’s their preference. Some customers have resorted to asking their debit or credit card provider to help get their money back, while those still paying deposit instalments on holidays for this summer are wondering what to do.So far the lockdown and stuff since February and March is not bad enough, they finally get a vacation or holiday whatever you want to call it and then they find out they have got to quarantine or they have it booked and the country is on the list of do not travel or the air bridge is closed which has been closing to many countries now they are tickets are invalid! Try getting your money from airlines who are weeping money at this point they are just weeping money it’s just leaking from every nook and cranny.

Heath-row row!!……… “

DM😁Revolt of the airline chiefs: Travel bosses urge Boris Johnson to drop blanket restrictions on whole countries amid row over quarantine.47 companies called on Johnson to introduce virus tests for arrivals to the UK. British Airways, Easy Jet and Jet2 have demanded a more 'nuanced’ policy. Signatories also include chief executives of Heathrow and Gatwick airports.Heathrow blames social-distancing 'chaos’ on holidaymakers arriving too EARLY as passengers complain of 'no staff managing massive queues’. Footage shows people close to one another at airport’s Terminal 2.The Passenger who filmed video questioned: 'Where are your staff managing this?' Other social media users have posted pictures of crowded scenes at Heathrow. Heathrow Airport said it is 'aware’ of passengers arriving several hours in advance of flights.British Airways pulls staff out of its £200million headquarters for six months - as just half of City bankers return to offices.BA joins the likes of Google, KPMG and RBS by keeping staff at home until 2021.Around 22,000 staff are on furlough, with 12,000 workers set for redundancy.Large companies are facing growing calls to bring employees back to the office. Travel chiefs want virus checks for UK arrivals and an end to blanket restrictions on whole countries… so how COULD Britain test its way out of travel trouble? Giving travellers coronavirus tests on arrival could curtail the quarantine period.Heathrow has said the airport could have testing sites ready ‘within weeks’.Scientists say testing people arriving in the UK can help curb the pandemic.DM😁 hey if they wrote it perfectly and I give them the credit I think that’s pretty darn fair right! Anybody who disagrees with me can you raise your hand please nobody raise their hand oh thanks kids I love you! 💜🙏🏻😊PG😊🙏🏻💜

“Why is ones arm in a sling Sydney ??…………… “ I slipped exiting the LR ma’am………” where was Philip ?………… “ sitting in the back ma’am”……” hello old thing, what’ho Sydney “ ……… good afternoon sir”……” Sydney had a hiatus Philip “……… “ O dear, looks sore Sydney “ ……” yes sir”…… “VERY!!”

Well we return to the placid Balmoral Castle in Beautiful Aberdeenshire! Oh every time I say that my heart skips a beat oh I had such special times there. Oh my my heart is so full of 🥰.If l could only tell your kids all of what my experiences there, but alas I cannot because you don’t share that online. Suffice it to say my heart is still there. Now back to our story kids commercials over,🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂Himself and Sydney have returned from a very successful hunt. Not hunch Hunt not hunch Hunt Hunt! Thank you thank you very much! Yes I am talking to my audio software it seems to work better and it’s a little bit sensitive. I’ve said before it doesn’t always want to write the word that I say. Sometimes when it gets really mad at me it beeps and it just shuts off and will not continue. So like I said yesterday sometimes I really have to whisper when I tell you guys things like that because I don’t want it to hear and I don’t want to see it’s feelings to get hurt.I don’t want it to get any more sensitive than it already is so, let’s all stay calm and hope and pray it will behave throughout this riddle!😁😁😁��🤣🤣😁😁😁😁 now back to our story!Her Majesty sees Sydney and she enquires,why is your arm in a sling Sydney? And he says oh my I just slipped slipped while I was getting out of the Lone Ranger a.k.a. the range rover. Naturally naturally she inquires where was Himself? And of course he’s been told your Majesty. ma’am,he was safely in the backseat! I think we all know the reason why himself is in the backseat or on the passenger side and not in the driver seat!And then in walks Himself,all proud, like a cock on a walk, as the old saying goes when the rooster struts across the farmyard and try to. impress all the hens or impress the prettiest hen. He would strut his stuff very confidently!Oh hello, saying he says his wife probably gives her a kiss or maybe a wave! Hello Sydney what ho? As if nothing had happened no no there was no no shots that went awry no injuries nothing like that nothing to see here folks nothing nothing at all! Her Majesty says to himself well Sydneys had a bit of a break hiatus. And Sydney greets him a good afternoon sir! Noticing his arm,oh that looks very sore.😆😆🤭🤭🤣🤣🤣 Sydney concurs that very very very veryVERY sore!!!🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂😂😂Can you kids imagine what they’ve all gotten up to in the last word 50 or 60 years that he’s been his butler? Oh my goodness this is just too funny I just love this part of the riddle it’s just all I can just visualize it totally!

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

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76. July 31

MM ANON …… Kate being scilly ……… ……… Borix nails down the caughin ………… roving explorer …………… phew! What a scorcher …………… Lions Arm-y…………… climate is a changing …………… ( get well mr, skippy 🌈) ……………beaches,stay away 😱😱………………Peer- pressure ‘ O brother!! …………… tick tick bite!! ……………”doctor, what’s growing on my arm.” …………… Williams conservs film

Friday July 31/20. Riddle #76

💜💜💜💜😊😊😊😊😊🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈Thank you MM Anon🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈😊😊😊😊😊💜💜💜💜

July 31/2020 28 years ago this evening, l lost my mum☹️, seems like yesterday. I am so glad and thankful I have my Tumblr community and these riddles that challenge me and give me something to look forward to. I am ever so grateful and in all of your debt for you of all been so kind to me and will welcome me thank you💜🙏🏻😊🙏🏻PG💜🙏🏻😊🙏🏻💜

Kate being scilly ……… ………

Well the Cambridges are on holiday at the Isles of Scilly. I think it’s quite funny because a lot of people online are ha ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha ha ha Ha ha ha thinking that is Sicily and that they went to Italy ha ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha! Why on earth would they take their family to Italy with Covid oh that’s hilarious LOL anyways. They were seen riding bikes and having just a nice family time.Isn’t it nice that they demonstrate without preaching they just live their life and somehow, somehow they always get it right. Local tourism at its finest and don’t tell me they didn’t have a marvellous time or that they aren’t having a marvellous time. The only thing I wish is that people hadn’t made it public if they could stay private but I guess I mean that is a lot to wish for.

Borix nails down the caughin …………

I believe he use the phrase putting the pedal on the brakes. Shocking lockdown arrangements orders whatever has been passed down. And a great many Muslims are going to celebrate Eid and now things are just thrown I’ll say it again like a spanner in the mix. A coffin for dead people is spelt the way it just appeared. Caughin Chaldean number 6 in numerology. But KOFN is the urban dictionary kind of describes exactly this. I will let you look up what that means and you can decide if you want to or not that’s up to you but I’m i’m not gonna put it here a ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ! I am certain man is citizens feel exactly the way that that acronym the way that feels. Borix is a tool for editing. However I think it’s just a joking way of saying the name of the tool that is those of you know that’s flying from back in the day when you called somebody was being like a jerk, all that is a real tool! And so I think Borix is referring to Boris Johnson!

roving explorer ……………

Roving means roaming or wandering. not assigned or restricted to any particular location, area, topic, etc.: a roving editor. not assigned to any particular diplomatic post but having a special mission: a roving ambassador. Explorer means a person who explores an unfamiliar area; an adventurer.

I know William and Harry, when they were young, they were taken on holiday to the isles of Scilly. I’m not sure if Catherine has been there.I know that their children definitely haven’t been so this might apply to them as well.

I know that Beatrice and Edo have taken a car trip for their honeymoon there driving all around Frantz. Just you know touring around just like a regular old couple with you are young couple. I don’t know that’s what this is roving then it was the explorers.

phew! What a scorcher ……………

I read it was 31°C in the UK today. And in speaking with a friend the last couple days have been quite warm. But I watch the BBC weather and it says it supposed to cool down a little bit so that’s good but it is the middle of summer right so you want the nice!! The other major scorcher that I am thinking of is the unsealing of documents in the GM case currently before the judge in New York City. I made a PDF And it’s currently sitting in my iBooks waiting for me to read it. Which I will at some point I’m just not in the mood for that today but yeah I will read it. So lots of hot stuff all around lots and lots! If you’re out please remember to use sunscreen and drink a lot of fluid! And don’t forget your for babies they get hot with their fur, kids know that I don’t need to tell you that right right!

Lions Arm-y……………

A tourist had part of his arm ripped off by a lion as he slept in a tent alongside his wife during an exclusive African safari organised by a British travel firm. The snarling beast ripped part of Patrick Fourgeaud’s left arm off during the horrifying mauling in the Ruaha National Park, in Tanzania.His wife, Brigitte Fourgeaud, 63, said: ‘I will never forget that moment when I woke up to see the lion there.‘I thought we were both going to die. The attack will stay with me for the rest of my life.'🥺🥺🥺🥺😮😮😮😮😮😬DM. OK what the heck? This happened in 2015! Why is this news today in the daily mail? What on earth I did that short story? Stories stories stories? Thank you got it! I’m talking to the software, I have truly lost my marbles! A few marbles I did have left rolling around in my head talking to this software and then talking through the software and then talking to the software oh my stars and garters!! This article even has photos which I will not include! sometimes I think they just put things in there just for sensationalize ation you spell sensationalize ation that’s not how you spell it sensationalize ation know that’s not how you spell it let me do it let me do it stop shut off shut off, sensationalization! Hair that’s how you spell it no I didn’t say here I said there that’s how you spell it! Whooooo it is in a mood today kids oh my gosh it’s been like this all day and I hope it doesn’t hear me. I hope it doesn’t hear me because it is very difficult selling very difficult today not selling or selling may be difficult to get spelling spelling has been very difficult today for this software and you know it’s OK tomorrow will be a better day right ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂.Oh I’m trying to give your kids a laugh I hope it’s working!

climate is a changing ……………

I think we’ve all heard about climate change and experienced it hotter summers or for us here is much milder winters with more snow. Talking about with the weather here. I think that she’s talking about the climate in terms of the mill you of how people are relating to one another in the last six months. The COVID-19 lockdown has left a lot of people out of money and with very short fuse is temporary and as we all know the Black Lives Matter movement has been all over the place and antifa has been involved in the UK branch of black live matter is very much a fascist organization. Now with the cancellation of Eid at the last minute and some stupid comments made by some MP that I will repeat his name but he basically said that he believes that it was people in the BAME population who were the most non-compliant with the facemask and all the social distancing. If the pedal on the brakes for the PM was not enough those comments by that MP, Sitting on fire all with Kinley nicely laid out and another piece of the wood that you use that to get with a call to start a fire it’s like pouring fuel on there and then hucking a match in there. You bet the climate do the relationships amongst different people in the world different populations different cultures you that there is changing and they are changing fast and violently. 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 let’s pray let us pray really hard that it does not get worse.

( get well mr, skippy 🌈) ……………

There have been so many prayers said for you Mr.🐼. I cannot tell you how pleased I am that you were home and that you are in normal sinus rhythm!! I want to thank you for sharing Skippy 🐼 with me and the whole world! That is a gift unlike any other! I wish you many many many many years of good health!💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻😊😊PG😊😊🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

beaches,stay away 😱😱………………😁Me Shark attack in Maine!! It’s a chap on TV right now he’s talking about how they were trying to save certain fish and they changed some of the environment laws which now means a great rise in the Apex predator. And there is no bigger Apex predator except the killer whale then the great white shark! Oh my goodness! He’s saying don’t wear black and don’t go in range of their hunting territory ha ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha well I think their hunting territory is water so it’s pretty much stay the heck out of the water ha ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha how brilliant advice from a scientist! Wonder how many years he had to study to learn to stay out of the water when you see great white sharks wow that is brilliant I would’ve never thought of that!! Now we’re back to serious. 😁livescience.commA fatal great white shark attack occurred in Maine on Monday (July 27) was only the state’s second recorded shark attack ever. But white sharks have long been in the waters of the Gulf of Maine. The second was this Monday’s attack, with a far more tragic outcome. Julie Dimperio Holowach, 63, of New York City, was swimming with her daughter when she was attacked and killed. A tooth fragment left behind indicated that the attacker was a great white shark.It’s likely that the shark mistook Holowach, who was wearing a wetsuit, for a seal, said Bob Hueter, a senior scientist at Mote Marine Laboratory and also chief scientist for the marine research organization OCEARCH. Seals are common along the coastline of the Gulf of Maine, he told Live Science.😁

😁HURRICANE CENTRAL.Hurricane Warning Issued for Florida As Isaias Spins in the Bahamas; Weekend of Strong Winds, Heavy Rain For SE Coast. Hurricane Isaias (ees-ah-EE-ahs) is expected to strengthen as it tracks through the Bahamas into Saturday and then will move near Florida this weekend, before tracking up the East Coast as far north as New England next week.A hurricane warning has been issued for a portion of Florida’s East Coast, from Boca Raton to the Volusia/Brevard County Line.A hurricane watch has been expanded, now in effect for portions of Florida from north of the Volusia-Brevard County line to the Flagler/Volusia County Line, and for South Florida from Boca Raton to Hallendale County. A hurricane watch is typically issued 48 hours before the anticipated first occurrence of tropical-storm-force wind, conditions that make outside preparations difficult or dangerous. From Weather.com.😁Me now. I thought that was a very unique name for hurricane I’ve actually never heard that name before at all, Isaias! Oh I feel for people when it’s hurricane season. I’ve been so many bad ones and climate change is such a real thing such a real thing and we all know it. Pray for those people that are in the path of the storm. When I watched the weather earlier today, let me backtrack, when they forecast hurricanes or that’s not the right word but when they tell about a hurricane that there’s usually four or five models that they use to determine the track of the hurricane. The chap that was doing the weather, he said basically all the the the types of formulations that they use are basically all showing that same track that for the hurricane to go so that’s a really good thing there’s sometimes a really wide.😁Me

Peer- pressure ‘ O brother!! ……………

Well the PM handed out Peerages today.. His brother got one and a couple other chaps also. The article I read the title was cronyism at its finest I think. I am so happy that John Bercow has a Peerage! I really do I mean he served for years love him or hate him,he sure added a lot of colour to Parliament! I’m telling you I enjoyed watching him order!!order!! order!! all I can do I’ll hear that till my dying day! Sometimes I just go to YouTube to watch him! But I digress here is some information from the daily mail. 😁DM Cronyism row as Boris makes his own brother a peer alongside anti-Brexit ex-Tory chancellors Ken Clarke and Philip Hammond and Ian Botham - while Theresa May’s husband Philip gets a knighthood. Government publishes list of 36 new peers who will join the House of Lords.Boris Johnson is at the centre of a 'cronyism’ row after his brother was named. List is also headlined by England cricketing legend and Brexiteer Sir Ian Botham.Ruth Davidson, Philip Hammond Ken Clarke also set to join the upper chamber.Meanwhile, Theresa May’s husband Philip is set to be handed a knighthood. 😁End DM

tick tick bite!! ……………”

Oh I saw this in the paper today oh that tick in someone’s belly button gross! and then when I looked closer I realized it wasn’t belly button it was actually a hole in the skin was just absolutely terrible. OK here is I found it I found the article and here it is😁DM Two people in England are hospitalised after being diagnosed with rare infections spread by TICK bites.PHE confirmed case of babesiosis caused by parasite that infects red blood cells.Another patient has tick-borne encephalitis affecting the central nervous system.It’s the first UK-acquired babesiosis case and second of tick-borne encephalitis.😁End DM. So whether you’re in the UK or not chicks are no joke well chicks are no joke but if I said text I said chicks there we all text TICKS excellent! We finally got it kicks are no joke oh no it’s got kicks I think you all know we’re talking about ticks and the software is this software has been in a bad mood today. Anyways it is no joke! You need to remove them you could move remove them with a lit match or you can put alcohol around there or you can use tweezers to pull them but make sure you get the whole thing out of there. Check your clothes check everything and then give your scalp a feel to see if there’s anything in there if you’ve been out walking her out walking through the trees. If you have children you must do the same. If you have fur babies you absolutely must do the same. You must check them all the time give them a while you’re giving them cuddles just check for any ticks.Because you do not want to get Lyme disease or an infection. And if perhaps you miss it and you notice of a red mark kind of like a target about the size of a quarter and I don’t know in other countries if you have a quarter but you can look it up online you need to go to the doctor for antibiotics like pronto this and I am being serious here!

“doctor, what’s growing on my arm.” ……………

I almost posted this on my blog but I I was too embarrassed! But there’s a gentleman in the UK who had a bad infection in his perineum which is his personal area down to his anal area. He developed necrosis with his penis and it fell off. This is not a joke. But the doctors, after however many years of of him being deformed, have with his skin flaps on his arm they manage to fashion a sort of a penis. But for four years,this gentleman has had this appendage on his arm and at least the article I read there was no date of when that would be removed and then implanted In his genital area. Oh kids I don’t know, he said concealing it was a real challenge who can you imagine? Really but it’s amazing with medical science can do! I just hope sooner rather than later they can get that removed and put it where it belongs. They said in order for it to function in a sexual way he would need implants for that. But wow wow wow that’s quite the story and I almost put that on my blog but I didn’t.

Williams conservs film

Prince William to appear in new documentary about his conservation work. The Duke of Cambridge is expected to appear in a new documentary about his conversation work.

He has been filmed over two years for the ITV programme, which has been announced as part of the broadcaster’s new autumn schedule.Well if it’s anywhere near as good as the documentary they did for Princess Anne’s 70th birthday it will be amazing. I don’t know what that documentary or a picture of them is still on YouTube I saw them with you right away when it was posted so I would highly recommend that if you get a chance to see that I would highly recommend it! Now back to Prince William.In the documentary, he describes how his mission to give nature a voice has felt even more personal since he became a father. ITV has said about the documentary: “The Duke of Cambridge reveals that young people hold the key to a more positive future relationship with the environment, and that their determined drive to tackle climate change has made him an optimist. “He explains how his mission to give nature a voice has felt even more personal since he became a father and that he wants to leave behind a better world for future generations. Working together to protect the planet, he believes that local communities have the power to protect and repair the natural world on which we all depend.”William has attempted to tackle the illegal wildlife trade through his umbrella body United For Wildlife.For more than five years the organisation’s Transport Taskforce has been working to facilitate collaborations between the transport sector and law enforcement agencies to prevent wildlife trafficking. Information from standard.co.uk

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

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77. Aug 1

MM ANON ……… Archificial German tabloid …………… tic toc trumps Trump ………… arrested!! Conservatives shiver …………… Wills they score …………pubs or schools ……………Harry emojis only……………MMs big mistake ………… no room in the office …………… hands , face , pace ,????…………………Belgium 😱😱😱😱…………… GM dirty secrets …………… SAS 😱😱😱………. …… 🎼a- Louis Louis ‘ O’no You gotta go 🎼

Entertainment purposes

💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🌈🌈🌈🌈Thank you MM Anon🌈🌈🌈🌈😊😊😊😊💜💜💜💜

August1/2020

Riddle #77 CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?!!?

Archificial German tabloid……………

Well she did it! It may not have been a British or a main stream tabloid as in North American. But she did it! She proved that the paparazzi were really in the drones are the drones we’re paparazzi.! Photos were taken secretly of Archficial! Photos of Meghan Markle and Prince Harry’s baby in their private garden were published by a magazine a week before the couple sued the paparazzi, Newsweek has learned. Well the usual German gossip rag manage to print manage to print these photos.Bunte, a German mass-market celebrity gossip weekly, ran the photo of Meghan’s mother Doria Ragland pushing 14-month-old Archie Mountbatten-Windsor on a plastic toy car.His face is clearly visible under a beige hat in the image, which appeared on the cover of the July 16 edition.This is the photo or these are the photos that we have discredited here on the blog Here is being photo shopped. There’s all kinds a question about those pictures that part of her arm is receiving and the angle and the especially in one picture of the black line around the bottom of the little Philly cop that the child is wearing is evident on one picture but not on the other. I’m just speaking from memory I haven’t looked at those pictures right now. The surrounding text asks: “How powerful is her mother?”

Inside, a similar photo was accompanied by a caption describing how Archie and his grandmother were playing in front of Tyler Perry’s villa, where Meghan and Harry have been

staying. Do you know Tyler Perry has been getting a whole lot of publicity for free. However when you were dealing with Madame, there is nothing that comes for free. Whether it’s money, your reputation or your very soul nothing is free there’s always a price and it’s usually a high high price! I thought for sure this magazine was called Das Bünde. Either way just as an aside it’s rather quite funny come on ha ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha. That’s what we used to call the cows cows that had a really colourful pattern, what causes always get names I mean that was a thing on the farm But not that I lived on the farm, but you know I knew about that….. Cows give better milk if they have a name. Goats respond to names to their very smart. Anyhow I just think it’s funny that magazine is called the same thing that causes to be called Bünte! In other words it’s very colourful flashy magazine! Or maybe it’s just drops a lot of cow patties terms of information ha ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha funny that’s funny? Can you believe it with all the emojis there is no cow emoji that’s just wrong moo moo ha ha ha ha ha! OK now the cows are going to start marching in the street saying cows lives matter ha ha ha ha Ha ha ha.

tic toc trumps Trump …………

Wow if this really happens there will be a revolt given the popularity of that platform wow!President Donald Trump said Friday night that he will ban the popular short-form video app TikTok from operating in the United States, rejecting a potential deal for Microsoft to buy the app from its Chinese-owned parent company. 😁Me.I think we must realize we are way past realizing the impact that China is having on all of us who live in a “free society“. And that’s just not all the cheap things we buy there when we go to the dollar store it’s a whole lot more than that. Huawei has been accused of using software or technological theft. As spoken many times of there that the owners daughter is being held here in Canada impressed in jail on a warrant from the United States. She’s working on fighting extradition. I would encourage anybody who has a Huawei phone to change it. There’s been all sorts of national security service concerns aboutSoftware service. You can read up for yourself about that but I would encourage you to educate yourself about that. There’s a reason why the president is standing firm in his stance against China. China owns most of Western Canada. They bought so much real estate in Vancouver at it it’s unbelievable. And we are just allowing this to happen. The horror that has and is happened in Hong Kong After the handover from the UK to China it was supposed to be one country two governments. It didn’t take but a year for them to renege on that and invade and they’ve they’ve abolish the constitution and arrested many people and so on and so on. End me.😁“As far as TikTok is concerned, we’re banning them from the United States,” Trump said to reporters while aboard Air Force One.Trump said he could use emergency economic powers or an executive order. It was not immediately clear what such an order would look like and what legal challenges it might face.”Well, I have that authority,” he said. Earlier on Friday, people working on the issue within the Trump administration expected the President to sign an order to force ByteDance, the Chinese company that owns the social media platform, to sell the US operations of TikTok, according to a person familiar with the matter. The move was aimed at resolving concerns by the policy makers, ( me😁and the rest of the free world!)that the foreign-owned TikTok may be a national security risk. I also think it’s an international security risk. (😁And who is who who are the ones that it’s most popular with young people. That’s the way to integrate into a society and start with the young.😁)The US government is conducting a national security review of TikTok and is preparing to make a policy recommendation to Trump, Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin told reporters this week at the White House.

arrested!! Conservatives shiver ……………

Senior Tory aka Consertaive, MP is arrested on suspicion of rape: Ex-minister is held in police custody after being accused of sex attacks on a Commons researcher in her twenties.A Tory MP was arrested last night on suspicion of raping a Commons researcher.The former Minister was being held in custody in an East London police station.His accuser, a woman in her 20s, was interviewed by Scotland Yard officer. Odd, in the whole article I’m reading, I can’t see the name of the MP. It is likely to increase pressure on Tory Chief Whip Mark Spencer, who failed to take action against the MP, who cannot be named for legal reasons, when he was told about the allegations a month ago. Why would you not have taken action? Why was he have sat idly by and done nothing? The former researcher, who cannot be identified, says she was assaulted four times between July 2019 and January this year, including claims of a rape necessitating hospital treatment. The Mail on Sunday was unable to contact the MP for his response to the allegations. As of last night, he had not been charged. More in the DM article if you want to read more about it. Do you know standing by and doing nothing when you possess such knowledge is almost a worse crime than the initial crime. He should be charged with oh what would it be, aiding and abetting? withholding of information? Withholding of criminal information? I think there’s a whole load of things he could’ve done and should’ve done! I hope he is fired! Post haste! Whether the MPis guilty or not that’s for the courts to decide but for him to sit idle on that information and do absolutely nothing that requires instant termination zero tolerance!

Wills they score …………Prince William reveals how he jumped on the sofa screaming with his children looking on in horror after Aston Villa were saved from relegation.Prince William watched Aston Villa being saved from Premier League relegation.He says his children had looked at him in horror as he was jumping off the sofa.The Duke said he wants clubs to ‘aspire to be much better’ around mental health. 😁Can you kids just imagine the scene Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha? they are all sitting and watching this on the TV and their father is all tense and they can see that. And then they’re saved from relegation and a huge like, you kids all know how men are when they get really excited and jumping and screaming and who knows what all else, he was doing carrying on so. Here is their usually calm, disciplined dad just going off the rails! He was having a Tom Cruise jumping on the sofas of the Oprah show! You kids remember that with Tom Cruise was crazy, well he still is,but when he went crazy in love with the oh Holmes oh what’s her name that girl that he ended up marrying and then having a child with. I forget her name, used to be on Dawsons creek, Katie was at Katie Holmes. Tom Cruise was jumping up and down on the sofa like a maniac and Oprah was interviewing him, it was just nuts. Anyway I am envisioning a scene kind a like that hilarious!!Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha.

pubs or schools ……………DM: SAGE ( 😁Scientific Advisory Group for Emergencies I added that in here because I always have to look up what does Sage meet again I always forget so I figured if I forget you guys do so I think it might help you if I put that in there😁)expert warns pubs could have to shut in trade-off to let schools reopen next month - as it’s revealed police have warned the ARMY might have to be called in to quell social unrest over local lock-downs.(😁does anyone else fear martial law? I am still coming in some of those cities in America where they’re rioting like Portland question! I don’t know what to quellsome of these antifa/BLM, I hate to use the word right again because they’re not riots they’re their attacks is what they are there their terrorist attacks!)Professor Graham Medley said watering holes (😁aka your local/pubs/bars/saloons, whatever you call it where you live) may need to close in order to get children back to classes.Boris Johnson yesterday warned coronavirus case numbers are ‘creeping up’ and he is ‘squeezing brake pedal’.He announced lockdown loosening planned for August 1 is being pushed back to August 15 'at the earliest’.That means reopening of casinos and bowling alleys is delayed while wedding receptions must also wait.PM also announced extension of face covering rules to include museums, galleries and places of worship. Professor Chris Whitty warned the UK has potentially reached a limit for how much of society can be opened up.This comes after partial lockdown reimposed on Greater Manchester and parts of Lancashire and West Yorkshire. Residents banned from meeting people they don’t live with in homes or gardens - but can still go to the pub.

Harry emojis only……………

And comes a time to add more insults to Prince Harry. Let’s drag him further through the mad shall we? Why not I’ve spent the last four 4 ½ years ripping him apart and every single possible way criticizing hurting every adjective under the sun so let’s just add some more.😁Prince Harry’s Dorky Texting Habits Were Revealed in a New Book.A new book has made some ‘stories’ about Prince Harry and Seahags time as senior royals, However Prince Harry still remains a senior royal, which is the article that I am greatly editing on does not acknowledge, including the report that Madam was reprimanded by palace officials over a necklace she wore early in their relationship. Beyond the insight into the Sussexes’ apparent frustrations over some of the media coverage over their relationship, however, the book also shares some interesting insight into Prince Harry’s supposed texting habits. Lies representatives truth in a in a down together thing with the cover in a bag with papers inside some cats on the colour book but I’m not calling it a book! allegedly allegedly allegedly,Prince Harry often sent Madam a perplexing emoji in the early days of their courtship.🤥🤥🤥🤥🤥🤥”His messages were often short and full of emojis, in particular the ghost emoji, which he often used instead of a smiley face,“ write the authors. “For what reason? Nobody knows. But Madam found his texting etiquette funny and adorable, just like the Prince."🤥🤥🤥🤥🤥Oh yet another dig and reason to laugh at him oh she’s disgusting absolutely disgusting!Who knew Prince Harry was an emoji man? Well you certainly don’t because your book is full of lies as madam is! You have no idea what he does on social media!. You have no idea how he texts or his interactions with his family and friends via his mobile phone! It’s all lies lies lies lies!🤥🤥🤥🤥🤥🤥🤥🤥🤥🤥🤥🤥🤥As the ‘book’s’, Ike sorry but I cannot dignify this piece of garbage by calling it a book! Nor can I call them authors!authors say, “nobody knows” why he thought the ghost emoji was a substitute for a smiley, but luckily for him, Madam was clearly charmed.Charmed?? Are you kidding me charmed? She lowered him and it was all a big plan there was absolutely no no charm involved!

MMs big mistake …………

She has made many mistakes due to her arrogance and her narcissism! However the biggest mistake was thinking that she could write this book anonymously and then deny being involved with it. She was thinking she would get the big sob story, I didn’t and she would be famouser, that’s the way I think she would say it I’m like I want to be famouser🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂🤣🤣. The book would be a best seller, make a lot of money and everybody would switch over and feel sorry for her. Well the opposite happened even some of the sugars are turning against her which I find hilarious. Her reputation is worse than it ever has been. She’s lost one part of the court case where she’s had to pay £67,000 in legal fees. The mail on Sunday lawsuit, another huge mistake on her part. But this, this “book“ was the biggest mistake hands down. She just does not think beyond the moment she does not think long term. in fact sometimes I question if she thinks at all I think she just acts reactively. Back to newtons law of physics every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Now she’s trying to bring princess Charlotte into it in the papers or it’s just disgusting. The book hasn’t even been officially released yet ha ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha exclamation! Well OK I’ll leave exclamation in there that’s that’s OK! Oh my my my my my. Most definitely her ego got in the way is it so often does. She’s so narcissistic she was just so convinced that, you know,telling her story from her side of the fence so to speak everyone would just fold over and just bow down to how horrible she’s been treated by that mean Queen and that mean royal family aren’t they just awful to her and Catherine didn’t give her a ride to the store she had to walk on no, oh poor girl. Well when she hired a photographer to take pictures of her a few years ago walking up and down in big rubber boots in her wellies in up and down to Kensington Palace gate so she was trying to enter at the exit she was so dumb she didn’t even know that. She most certainly didn’t seem to remind you that walking!! I think she’s done all city walking on streets or street walking or maybe standing on streets maybe threecorners I don’t know?🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂Oh what a gong show her life is oh my. Oh just wait the MOS is not going to settle this lawsuit they are not going to back down. And whatever comes out of GM and her case ,oh this is just the very beginning kids. We can even just start shopping for popcorn now, go get the best gourmet popcorn you can find and whatever toppings you like. I like your pickle topping if somebody wants to pick some of that up for me. I love dill pickles oh I love the pickles all they’re so good oh if you ever had just a dill pickle sandwich oh kids oh and a nice fresh grain bun ha ha Ha that’s so good anyways I digress there on ha ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha. Ha ha ha ha sorry about the kids I did digress I do digress oh my anyways. Yeah she’s she’s just I don’t I can’t imagine what kind of state she’s in right now I just can’t imagine. There was a song or a record years ago called sympathy for the devil well I have no sympathy for the devil and I have no sympathy for her.. She’s a big girl she made all the decisions all of her own throughout her whole life and she’s got herself where she is because she chose to be there!

no room in the office …………… This reminds me of the Bible verse no room in the Inn at Bethlehem and all the songs that came out of that. So who’s not wanted in the office that they are not willing to make room for? Workers will need to BOOK their place on the office lift to stop overcrowding at work.Chief executive Marc Benioff warned this is a 'new type’ of working environment.Employees will also be required to book a slot in order to travel between floors.Company employs 2,000 staff in the UK, mostly at London’s Heron Tower.All I can find our articles about how people working from home during the lockdown will continue for many people and officers will be empty. And that they will have trouble filling the officers with workers because of that. And the domino effect if that’s going to have another industry is like the shops around there and the coffee shops etc. so no room in the office you stumped me here no room in the office. I can think of Madam them not wanting her anywhere near the offices when she was in London or the UK. I can think of Prince Harry not having room in her offices now. Then of course it’s always the office television show which is always good for a laugh. You have stumped me MM anon I said uncle,I say uncle, I have spent about an hour and a half researching that I cannot find anything you stumped me!

hands , face , pace ,????…………………Evening Express😁Boris Johnson urges people to remember ‘hands, face, space’ slogan. The Government’s Sage (Scientific Advisory Group for Emergencies) committee discussed data on July 2 which suggested “a gradual decline in self-reported hand-washing frequency over the course of the epidemic” and said it is “worth revisiting behavioural interventions to increase uptake”. It comes after the Government was accused of creating confusion around new rules issued late on Thursday for parts of northern England.At a press conference on Friday, Mr Johnson said: “The only real utensil we have (in) controlling the spread of this new virus is human behaviour, and the only way we can encourage people to behave in one way or the other is through advice.”And so you’re totally right, we need to keep it as simple as we possibly can and that’s why, to sum it up in a nutshell, is: hands, face, space. “Wash your hands, cover your face in the settings that we had mentioned and keep your distance from other people where you don’t know them, you’re coming into contact with them for the first time, and of course get a test and self-isolate if you have symptoms.“I hope that was pretty… you know, that was pretty punchy I think – hands, face, space, and get a test.”I think everybody can more or less remember that.” I think there’s a lot of people pacing up and down right now just trying to cope with everything. And I’m sure there’s many in the government that are pacing trying to cope with the demands. A lot of sleepless nights for a lot of people and pacing up and down the hallway. 'Hands, face, space… knees and toes’: Boris Johnson unveils new government coronavirus slogan - but is accused of making it up as it’s compared to a children’s song.

Belgium 😱😱😱😱……………

Covid-19 infections in Belgium are 12 times higher than reported!

Almost 800,000 people in Belgium have been infected with the coronavirus SARS-CoV-2 since the start of the global pandemic – 12 times more than reported in official figures, according to a study carried out by the university of Antwerp.At the same time, another study reveals that health care personnel are 3.5 times more likely to become infected than the population as a whole. The study examined blood samples collected since the end of March and concluded that if the results are extrapolated to the entire population, 7% of people or a total of 782,000 have been infected.

“Our analysis may even be an underestimate,” said epidemiologist Professor Pierre Van Damme, who led the study with Dr Heidi Theeten.By comparison, the official figures produced by the health institute Sciensano count a total of 68,000 infections since the disease appeared. According to the study, the discrepancy shows the number of people who are carrying the virus without knowing it.”Clearly we are missing a lot of cases of infection,” Prof. Van Damme said. “We searched globally and randomly for antibodies in our research, but in Belgium’s infection hot-spots, the figures may exceed the 7% that we discovered.”In another study, published in The Lancet, (😁mewhich is a well regarded medical magazine or publication!)researchers examined information supplied by users of a smartphone app in the UK and the US, and concluded that health care professional were 3.4 times more likely to become infected than users in general.The incidence of infection among health care workers was 2,747 per 100,000, compared with 242 for the general population of users. However when the numbers are adjusted for factors such as access to tests, the researchers arrived at a figure for the professionals of 823.And in fact, the increased risk was even greater in ethnic minority, black and Asian users, regardless of their medical history. Among the general population, the increased likelihood was 2.5 times greater, while among minority healthcare workers the difference was 1.8 times greater. “Our results confirm the structural inequalities in the face of Covid-19,” the authors said. “Minority caregivers were more likely to work in riskier clinical environments, with suspected or confirmed Covid patients, and had less access to adequate protective equipment.”Alan Hope,The Brussels Times

GM dirty secrets …………… The Telegraph Epstein’s former housekeeper tells Helen Kirwan-Taylor gives a glimpse into the exclusive world of Manhattan elite circles😁I was in Ghislaine Maxwell’s little black book - and know the dark secrets of her New York life. I’ve been using that face to differentiate between the information I find online and me my comments. I hope that’s helpful. Also I should know that we share that I was not the one saying I was in a little Black book.😁

As a New Yorker who married a Brit, I learned how someone with the money could enter the elite circle of the Epstein-linked socialite. I must have received half a dozen excited phone calls. “I hear you’re on the list?!” they said, hardly able to contain their excitement. The list, as most people now know, is Jeffrey Epstein’s ‘little black book’, curated for him by socialite Ghislaine Maxwell and containing the names and addresses of who’s who in both London and New York. It first emerged in 2012 (when Epstein’s former housekeeper was arrested by the FBI while trying to to sell it) and was published on Gawker.com a few years later, along with the flight logs for his private jet, nicknamed the ‘Lolita…😁Well apparently that’s all the information that’s a telegraph will allow me to read and copy without paying. So c’est la vie!😁NY POST A trove of documents related to Ghislaine Maxwell’s sex life and her alleged crimes that were scheduled to be released Monday will be kept secret for the time being, an appeals court ruled Friday.The Second Circuit Court of appeals granted a stay filed by Maxwell’s attorneys, who have fought tooth-and-nail to keep the files that relate to her deposition in a now settled-defamation case from the public.The documents will be kept secret until at least Sept. 22, when the circuit will hear Maxwell’s appeal.The documents were ordered unsealed by Judge Loretta Preska last week, but she granted Maxwell’s attorneys a week to file an appeal to block their release.

On Thursday, a separate batch of documents in the case were released. They included graphic details about Maxwell’s alleged sex-obsessed life with pedophile Jeffrey Epstein before her arrest earlier this month.😁me now. Oh dearie me, I can only imagine what is in those files if they’re fighting tooth and nail. Actually you know something I probably can’t even imagine the whore of what’s in there but a whore ha ha actually I what l said was the horror, the horror that’s in there. I’m gonna leave that mistake in software typing there because that’s actually quite true about this woman. It’s just is so evil, it’s just so evil it’s and comes from such a dark dark dark source. This use of children and recruiting children is just beyond the pale. There’s a scripture verse that says,Suffer the little children to come unto me for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. And I do believe that sins against children, but the Bible says all sins they are the same in the sight of God what a sin is a sin is a sin. I firmly believe that sins against the innocent like children or people who have mental disorders or animals or anybody who’s vulnerable those those are worse,those those are worse. They are the worst of the worst!

SAS 😱😱😱………. ……

Secret court papers claim ‘rogue SAS Afghanistan execution squad’ carried out a series of night-time killings in Afghanistan. Documents in British court show concerning allegations about an SAS unit.Elite soldiers involved in killings of 33 people in night raids on Afghan homes.Circumstances of the incidents where captured Afghan men have attacked with grenades and AK47s ‘against impossible odds’ have been called suspicious.Evidence was withheld from earlier proceedings by the government. Extreme allegations that a 'rogue’ SAS unit carried out night missions in which they executed civilians in villages in Afghanistan have come to light in court documents.The trove of secret files was previously withheld from an ongoing High Court legal case by the government, causing a judge to demand an explanation from SecDef ie Secretary of Defense, Ben Wallace. The Communications from within high ranks of the special forces reveal a huge concern for the killings of over 33 Afghan people in 11 different night raids on homes by the same unit.This is absolutely terrible news. One wonders with all the circumstances where and who ordered this must’ve come up from very high high command for an order like this. They must’ve had suspicion is they were certain actors are that they were after. Funny how that word actor has changed from Hollywood used to using that word instead of terrorists or criminal or whatever they call calling them now a bad actor. I am referring to the person who does bad acts. I don’t know when that first came into common usage. But it’s been at least two years maybe even longer that even using that phrase. At least here in North America I am not sure how it is in the UK but definitely here that’s been the common use.

🎼a- Louis Louis ‘ O’no You gotta go 🎼

This is a song in 1955 by Richard Berry. But it was a huge hit in 1963 by the Kingsmen. This is a standard song or any social or dance whatever we are used to be I said that used to be ha ha Ha ha ha oh boy when I was young ha ha ha ha. Louis and the song is actually spelled LOUIE.. So it seems to be to me rather that this would be about Prince Louis.OK when someone says you gotta go that means you have to go see Mrs. Murphy, we used to say that at work when we have to go to the bathroom, I have to go check on Mrs. Murphy. well he might be about the age of potty training but I can’t imagine that that would be in the news. I know that they were on holiday. of interest,

Louie Louie (The Song) … The FBI was asked to investigate whether or not those involved with the song violated laws against the interstate transportation of obscene material. The limited investigation lasted from February to May 1964 and discovered no evidence of obscenity.

Let’s go back to Prince Louis. I wonder if this doesn’t refer to him starting nursery school or some sort of whatever it’s called there because I was doing some research and this is what I came up with. I wonder if that’s not what does this.What age is preschool in UK?Preschool (US and UK) from 2 to 5 years old- held in a Nursery School; readiness has to do with whether the child is developmentally appropriate, potty training is a big factor, so a child can start as early as 2 years old. All they’re all growing up so fast and they all Time goes so fast!

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

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78. Aug 2

The photo goes with the clue a bigger splash!

💜🙏🏻😊🌈😊🙏🏻💜PG INTERPRETATION OF MM ANON💜🙏🏻😊🌈😊🙏🏻💜

MM Anon

MM ANON …… Victoriiahhhhhhh………. Over 50’ what!!!………………return to the office??…………Drop Shipping ……………… mixed messages 😱😱……………90 minute wonder………………Dragged away’ She’s dyingm!! …………A bigger splash……………… No suspension …a major incident …………… HMTQ ‘ no comment.

Aug 02/20

💜💜💜💜🌈🌈🌈😊😊😊😊Thank you MM Anon😊😊😊😊🌈🌈🌈💜💜💜💜

August 2/2020. Riddle #78

Victoriiahhhhhhh……….

This reminds me of the movie, A Streetcar Named Desire. The character played by Marlon Brando, stands at the bottom of the stairs and yells Stella! Stella! This is not the usual spelling of Victoria it has two eyes and 7H’s. Victoria is a rule doesn’t have an H in it and it doesn’t have two eyes. Charlotte Tilbury named a lipstick after her, very Victoria, l have it. Her husband David has spent tens and tens of millions bailing out her “ fashion“ business. No the classy woman that she is, she’s trying a new venture. Victoria Beckham denies plans to ‘sell sex toys’ as she prepares to rival Gwyneth Paltrow’s $250m Goop empire with new lifestyle brand. Boy I was just waiting for a new business like this to come out. I was all that we’ve been dealing with and 2020 this is exactly what we need right sex toys yeah right give me a break! People out of work no money to buy sex toys this is disgusting!! A report had alleged the fashion mogul, 46, was looking to match the 47-year-old actress’ company in ‘every way’ and had trademarked the initials 'VB’ for her exciting venture.Hitting back at the reports, a source close to the business exclusively told MailOnline: 'This is absolutely not true! There are no plans to sell sex toys!' Even tell you the things that Gwyneth Paltrow is selling good gracious. You can research it for yourself if you want to know. On her new brand, a source told The Sun earlier this month: 'The Beckhams are huge in the States. Victoria’s products are likely to be lapped up and provide her with a lucrative leap into the international market.'Victoria already boasts a host of beauty products to her name, after launching an eponymous brand to complement her fashion label. On Thursday, it was reported that Victoria had to axe 20 staff at her loss-making fashion label to 'future-proof’ it after the pandemic - just months after reversing plans to furlough employees.

Over 50’ what!!!………………

Madam’s birthday is on 4 August. I do believe her true age is over 50! And someone has just found that out and they’re absolutely shocked! I wonder if some thing public will come tomorrow on her birthday to reveal her true age! Wouldn’t that be something , just the perfect birthday present!!ha ha ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha oh kids would that not be just the perfect wonderful birthday present FOR ALL OF US,with it oh my! 🎁 I was going to put 50 candles here but I’m not sure how many more than 50 it would take! maybe someone will hire an airplane and it will carry a banner behind it say happy 55th birthday 🎁 🍰 🎂 Madam!

return to the office??…………

Oh this is like the clue that drove me nuts yesterday in the riddle, that after 90 minutes researching, I never did solve, no room in the office. However, this is the big battle, are people going to stay working from home or are they going to return to the offices. As I said before office building sit empty and the lost revenue to power services through lights and electricity. The lost revenue to businesses in the area. Lost revenue to restaurants in the area. Lost revenue to mass transit. It’s a domino effect, it’s not just a matter of all,you know what will work from home and it’s safer and it’s cheaper and all that so it’s a whole huge cog wheel that turns. It is like a mobile, if you take off one piece, not a mobile phone kids, a mobile that hangs over babies beds. Got all these things hanging from it that are of interest to the baby. But they can be decorative too. It’s like taking off one piece of that it doesn’t hang properly it doesn’t move properly and it needs all the pieces in order to function properly. So the government is wanting people to go, ordering people to go back to work some are refusing and some companies are refusing to comply with that. They would rather have people working from home, there’s less sick time and it seemed to work fine. It’s funny, it seems like when when things don’t work like usual and then people kind of like it that way, the government just has a fit. I think back to the early 90s where the government was cutting nursing money. So what they did is they gave us every Friday off and where I was working at the time I had a Monday to Friday job which is very rare in nursing. And so we got a long weekend every weekend. It was, you know, the first feel like that’s like a loss of 20% of our income but then it got to be pretty nice. Your mental health was better, an extra day off, you have a long weekend and you could do stuff with friends and family. Then they started to realize people were liking this and they took that away but then we still have to lose a day but it couldn’t be so it would be of benefit to us. They were just plug it in anywhere in the middle of our schedule and we wouldn’t necessarily know until the day before. So that that’s how government operates in my experience.

Drop Shipping ……………… 📦

Drones will be used to deliver coronavirus tests and medical supplies to remote regions under plans that allow for safe 'air corridors’ to be set up for them to fly in.Operators are currently banned from flying drones outside their sight line.The Civil Aviation Authority will relax measures to ensure contactless deliveries.Drones will be used to deliver medical supplies and PPE to hospitals.In remote regions, this will speed up the transport of essential goods.

mixed messages 😱😱……………MM Anon Every riddle there is one clue that I just can’t solve , well at LEAST one but always one that sticks out exceptionally!!and it drives me Squirrley! Madam’s 'proud to be feminist’ biography statement and references to her charity work as a child are DELETED from the Royal Family’s website - and replaced with details of her move to US with Prince Harry. So if she will or isn’t she? Is she part of the family or isn’t she? These are mixed messages definitely! Her whole biography is removed! I’m not complaining but these are mixed messages is she or isn’t she is she or isn’t she?The Royal Family’s official website have deleted large chunks of The Duchess of Sussex’s biography, The Sun reports.The page, which details senior members of the royal family’s background and duties, no longer contains large parts of Madam’s history!References to women’s empowerment and her work in a soup kitchen from the age of 13-17 have been deleted! Second line of the 'About The Duchess of Sussex’ section now references her move to America with Prince Harry, 35, stating: 'As announced in January, The Duke and Duchess have stepped back as senior members of The Royal Family’!! She is slowly being erased bit by bit by bit by bit. It won’t be hard to Photoshop her out of Prince Louis’ christening photos, just she’s on the corner there and the other family picture taken outdoors, I forget what that occasion was, it won’t be hard at all to get her photo shopped out of there. Yes they are giving us mixed messages,but if we read the clues and we pay attention, there’s no mixed signal, they’re telling us exactly what’s happening without coming out and saying it.

90 minute wonder………………

MM Anon did you put this here to tease me because I spent 90 minutes 🕰🕰yesterday on that clue no room in the office and still couldn’t find a proper answer? Did you did you did you???😁😁😁🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂

What a musician or singer has one to one song that successful in their career nothing else to call them a one hit wonder. This is a 90 minute wonder. This Has to be Madam for her performance in A Woman For All Treasons, 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂😂instead of A Man For All Seasons! 😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣 hey we have to laugh or we would go mad this is all such a terrible situation! ViacomCBS-backed U.K. broadcaster aired a 90-minute documentary on madam’s father. Thomas Markle.Madam and her husband???, is he still her husband?,Prince Harry sparked a global media frenzy with their decision not to continue as senior members of the British Royal Family. Buckingham Palace announced that the couple are to lose their royal titles of “His Royal Highness” and “Her Royal Highness”.Harry broke his silence revealing that the couple had “no other option.” He didn’t say this is what I wanna do he didn’t say I had this is the one thing that will make me happy this is not the thing that my heart is calling me to do. He said there’s no other option. Now if that doesn’t sound like a special ops comment I don’t know what does! you take your list of options of how to get it out of the situation and you choose the path of least resistance!Produced by Alaska TV, Channel 5’s “Thomas Markle: My Story” had access to Markle over six days at his home in Mexico in October 2019, and returned there to film his reaction to his daughter and son-in-law’s decision to step back from Royal duties. So daddy Markle is a 90 minute Wonder, wow he puts his head up every now and then again to let it let us know he still got his fingers in the pie.OR THIS FROM THE DM.New 'lifesaving’ tests to transform the war on coronavirus: 90-minute checks will be rolled out for the NHS next week - and then used to routinely screen Britons with no symptoms.Two new coronavirus tests will be offered to millions of Britons from next week. The tests, which give results in 90 minutes, will first be introduced to the NHS.Health Secretary Matt Hancock described the move as 'lifesaving’ on Sunday. One is so simple it could soon be deployed in airports, offices, schools, pubs and restaurants – bringing testing to the bulk of the population.

The companies involved would not reveal the cost but claim it is similar or cheaper to current tests – which are around £18 privately but less to the NHS.Health Secretary Matt Hancock last night described the move as 'lifesaving’ as the Government looks to avert a second wave of the disease, prevent the need for draconian lockdowns and restart the stalled economy.

The two tests will initially be introduced in the NHS and care homes before being made available more widely over the next few months.

Unlike current tests given mainly to patients who already think they have the virus, the new methods will be used to routinely screen members of the public who show no symptoms.

Officials hope they will flag up local outbreaks before they take hold, avoiding the need for local lockdowns such as that imposed in the North West last week.

Dragged away’ She’s dyingm!! ……. 🏥 🥼 👮 👮 🚔

I saw this and read this yesterday and then again I almost posted this on my blog but it was too agonizing. This poor little girl is laying in her bed, fighting for her life, near dying and her parents have been fighting for her to continue to be treated. Her father is a doctor, a well-known respiratory specialist and his wife is a former doctor so they’re not, they are no dummies. They know exactly they know what doctors do in the medical profession. I forget the chronic illness their daughter has, but they’ve been fighting to keep her getting treatment and they want her to have steroid treatment. The doctors have been wanting to stop all treatment several times but they have continued at the behest of the family. But this week they had a meeting and they said they Basically told the parents that they were not going to continue to comply with her wishes to treat their daughter. I guess at that point,understandably,the parents would be upset and allegedly the father shoved the doctor that told him this.I forget the quote, I mean it put the article in here after I finish, but he said something rude to the father like get over it man or get real or something like that. Anyways long the short of it the parents are back to the daughters bed and within a few moments police officers arrive. In the video and the photos are agonizing of them handcuffed,dragging them both,mother and father,away from the child bedside. While they’re doing this, father of the child has a massive heart attack and has to be taken to emergency and had to have an angioplasty the next day. Just horrific just absolutely horrific! here is just one link there’s many many many links you can choose to read but this is one for you to read.

https://news.sky.com/story/couple-to-take-legal-action-after-father-was-removed-from-dying-daughters-bedside-12041332

A bigger splash……………… 🌊 🦈

You thought the shark attack in Maine was bad and that was a big shark. Wow just wait to read this. A man in his 20s was attacked by a massive four-metre great white shark at a popular surfing spot - before his board is brought to shore with a massive chunk bitten out of it.Emergency services were called to Bunker Bay in south-west WA around 2.15pm.The surfer was airlifted to Royal Perth Hospital after the shark bit him in the leg.A shocking image showed how the man’s board was bitten in half in the attack. 'Three guys that were close to him they started to paddle towards him… he was already off his board trying to push the board into the shark.

'Those three guys got him onto the beach… everyone came together, there were guys off calling triple-0 on their phones straight away,’ one man explained. A helicopter was sent to the popular beach and the surfer was airlifted to Royal Perth Hospital.The extent of the man’s injuries are not yet known. ‘He’s just sitting on his board and the next thing you know we just heard someone go 'shark’. This is a picture of what’s left of his surfboard whole that is frightening.! OR THIS FROM THE DM. Tragedy as hero father dies after saving his three children when they got caught in a rip-tide off Welsh beach and 18-year-old is found dead in river at beauty spot.Man in his 30s died after being flown to Ysbyty Gwynedd, Bangor this afternoon.Witnesses reported children in difficulty in water and a man swam to their aid.Two of the children were taken to hospital for treatment after Barmouth incident.A hero father in his 30s has died 'after rescuing his three children when they got caught in a rip tide’ on the Welsh coast and in a separate incident an 18-year-old was found dead in a river at a beauty spot in North Yorkshire.North Wales Police confirmed the man, said to be on holiday in the area, died after being pulled from the water and flown to Ysbyty Gwynedd, Bangor on Sunday. Witnesses said three children had got into difficulty in the water near Barmouth and a man understood to be their father had jumped into the water to bring them ashore.

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No suspension … ⚖️ ⚖️

This is referring to the MP who has been accused of rape by a young woman. His name is not been named. He has not lost his job he has not been suspended. I’m all for innocence before proven guilty before a trial but a suspension at the very least.Local Tory party gives senior MP arrested on suspicion of rape its '100% support’ – as pressure grows to suspend the former minister.A Tory MP was arrested last night on suspicion of raping a Commons researcher.The former Minister was being held in custody in an East London police station.His accuser, a woman in her 20s, was interviewed by Scotland Yard officers. Labour MP Jess Phillips has criticised Tories for failing to suspend the whip. The Conservatives were under mounting pressure yesterday after refusing to suspend the ex-minister who is alleged to have assaulted a former parliamentary aide and forced her to have sex.

She claims that she was left so traumatised by their relationship last year that she ended up in hospital.

A major incident…..Government will start testing sewage to track coronavirus and could ban domestic travel to try and stop local outbreaks. Would you kids want that job? Testing sewage? Oh dearie me!🥺 Infected people shed Covid material in their faeces soon after symptoms appear. Trials at 44 sites showed technique was successful and it will now be rolled out. Came as Number 10 considered banning travel in and out of lockdown areas. I could make a joke about what kind of job this is but it would be a bit crude.

Environment Secretary George Eustice said the measure would give officials a 'head start’ on tackling further outbreaks. A wave of localised flare-ups across England has prompted the PM to discuss radical proposals to shake up its crisis response. This could include banning travel in and out of areas with high infections as part of a 'flexible’ strategy to avoid another national lockdown that would derail the economic recovery. The notion of locking down London was touted in March when the capital bore the brunt of cases. It could be resurrected again in the event of a second wave, with the lockdown area defined by the M25.DM

HMTQ ‘ no comment. 👑

What can and can’t the Queen do under lockdown at Balmoral? We all know that her Majesty, the Queen,regularly loves to attend chapel every Sunday. This is no different when she’s at Balmoral.Here are some of the guidelines she will have to follow and she has made no comments about because she wouldn’t she keeps calm and carries on. The Queen’s visit to Balmoral Castle this summer is likely to be different from normal due to the coronavirus restrictions in place.A Buckingham Palace spokesman said arrangements for the visit in early August “will be in line with the relevant guidelines and advice”.Visitors from two other households will be able to meet her at a time at Balmoral, under current Scottish Government rules, with a recommendation for a maximum of eight people at a time when inside. This is only possible with social distancing and “strict hygiene measures”.Guidance indicates four other households will be able to meet the Queen at a time when outside – but with no more than 15 people in total in the group. For both indoors and outdoors, a cap of four households a day has been put in place. Crathie Kirk – a regular place of worship of the royal family when they are in residence at the estate – is among the places of worship subject to rules allowing communal prayer for a maximum of 50 people, with two-metre distancing in place.The Queen will not be able to enjoy the Braemar Gathering as she traditionally does, as coronavirus forced the Highland games to be called off for the first time since 1945. It is also unlikely the monarch will be able to host her annual Ghillies Ball, which takes place in the estate’s grand ballroom.The event is a dance for her neighbours, estate and castle staff during her summer stay at Balmoral but would contravene the current rules on gatherings.The Scottish Government is set to review lockdown measures next Thursday but First Minister Nicola Sturgeon warned at her briefing on Wednesday not to expect the easing of many more restrictions.Currently, face coverings are mandatory across Scotland in circumstances where physical distancing is not easy to maintain.PA MEDIA/UK NEWS. I guess if the Buckingham Palace spokesman made a statement, that would be on behalf of her Majesty.Her Majesty the Queen, has made no public statement regarding Madam or Prince Harry before her holiday to Balmoral. We all know something imminently is going to happen. We also know that she is the one that is in charge. So when the time comes, we will know and if she feels like she needs to speak to us or make a statement she will. I wish her an excellent vacation good health and good happiness and good hunting and good fishing!!GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

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79. Aug 3

This photo goes with the Prince Louis Louis Clue

MM Anon

MM ANON …… HOW old !!🤣🤣🤣……………… eat out to ( put on pounds)……………GO BACK TO work……………🎼PRINCE ‘ Louis Louis 🎼…………… a result in 90 mins. …………… very HUME-an………… MM , mendacious,cheat, grifter yacht puta ,, plagiarist, druggy, petulant, dubious ,provenance!!………… “ never returning BP” ……………Hackers🐻🐻🐻…………………Windsor home!!

Entertainment purposes

💜🙏🏻😊🌈✝️🌈😊🙏🏻💜Thank you so much dear MM Anon💜🙏🏻😊🌈✝️🌈😊🙏🏻💜

August 3/2020

Riddle #79 can you believe that at 79 already? Wowza! Wowza!

HOW old !!🤣🤣🤣………………

Well the old SEAHAG is having a birthday tomorrow. Apparently she’s throwing herself at $200,000 birthday party, well isn’t that special Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!I remember very clearly August 4, 1982 was the day that Prince William was christened. I was waiting,I collected everything and I was waiting for the papers and the pictures and I still have them in my scrapbook. I’m a little offended that this woman has the nerve to have a birthday in the same month as me! 🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐Somehow that’s just wrong so so so very wrong in so many ways!🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔 however with her as you know she never tells the truth about anything. Her age fluctuates, kind a like the weather it’s just up-and-down up-and-down and up-and-down. Just like her Wikipedia page that changes too ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Hey, but isn’t it awesome that her part on the royal family’s official website has been very! very!very! very! well edited! NO MORE HRH😁😁😁😁😁😁 Do you know something? I’ve got it now!😁I got it!😁I’ve got it!😁That is her 🎁 present for her birthday from her Majesty and Lord Geidt! That was an awesome gift! I only wish I had thought of something that clever🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂😂😂😂! Maybe they’ll even give her another gift and they’ll edit her out of Prince Louis’ christening photo! That would be the icing on the 🎂 cake! 🕯 I hope it’s going to be a big cake because they’re going to need a lot of candles! For my cake 🎂, to all of you have already started baking it, I’m going to need 54 candles😁😁😁😁. We used to always have a spice cake for our birthday that mum made and then we would have, what was called birthday icing.It’s a seven minute icing, where you boil brown sugar and butter and you beat up egg whites and then you mix it together. But if it’s a very humid day, it doesn’t turn out well before that’s a lovely combination ….great memories, 😢☺️😊💜💜💜great memories! And my mum used to wrap coins in wax paper. Quarters, nickels, dimes and pennies,we still had pennies are that time. She would put it in the cake in the batter around all around. As it baked, the coins would stay in the bottom of the cake and that way when everybody would get near to the end of eating their piece, they would get a surprise. It would be a penny a dime a nickel or quarter. For kids today, that would be nothing. I’m thinking that Madam might be around the same age as me! Although my skin is much nicer, way, way, way nicer! Firstly because I actually wash my face like with soap and water! I know that’s a new concept! Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣I use Prai neck and décolletage or neck and deck as they call it sometimes. I use Korres olive oil line, FANTASTIC! I use L’Occitane either almond oil or verbena is my new favourite shower gel! Hey if I can afford the things she certainly can! I would find it extremely hilarious if tomorrow and all of the papers her actual age was revealed! That would be a birthday gift for all of us ha ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!

eat out to ( put on pounds)……………

Oh I saw the pictures today in the daily mail!! About the amount of food you can get!

Dinner’s on Rishi! Crowds of customers turn streets into outdoor diners as packed restaurants overflow into the road on the first night of the Chancellor’s 50% discount deal.72,000 restaurants, pubs and cafes across Britain are offering half-price meals to diners from today.The offer is only available between Mondays and Wednesdays when eating in and is capped at £10.McDonald’s, Nando’s, Pizza Express and Costa Coffee are involved in scheme backed by taxpayers.Thousands of independent venues including 40 Michelin-starred restaurants are also taking part.The Prime Minister Boris Johnson has been losing weight and he along with the medical profession have been encouraging people, especially over 50, to lose weight. It decreases their Covid risk or let me rephrase that it decreases its severity of their course of illness if they do get COVID-19. With this Cheap food, you’ve got the free food basically it’s unbelievable how much you can get. There are some pictures on there it’s just you just go take a look it’s unbelievable!Restaurants were tonight heaving with customers dining out on discounts after the government launched its half-price meals scheme to breathe life back into the beleaguered hospitality industry. Rishi Sunak’s Eat Out To Help Out programme, which gives people £10 per head off their bill, drew crowds to both high-end venues and fast-food outlets alike.More than 90 chains including McDonald’s, Nando’s, Pizza Express and Costa Coffee are among the 72,000 eateries taking part in the scheme, which allows them claim back the lost money from the Treasury.

GO BACK TO work……………

OK why are those first three words all capitals and then work is an all lowercase. Lots of people have found working at home is working much better for the life as a whole and don’t want to return to the normal 9 to 5 so to speak office environments. It saves and having to buy work clothes fighting with the public transportation and the risk of catching Covid and just the commuting time. yet again you’ve done it I just I don’t I cannot figure out why those three words are in. Given everything in the daily mail today with everything like en Fuego aka on fire 🔥 with Covid-19,it doesn’t look like there’s going to be any government mandates for people to go back to work anytime soon! It is almost as if you are you’re saying to somebody go back to where you came from and you’re really angry about it and then you cannot finish the sentence so you say, work. Daily Mail So much for Britain’s back-to-work day! Nearly five in six office employees will stay at home today despite official drive to get staff back at their desks, survey reveals.An audit of 30 of the UK’s biggest firms found 17 per cent would travel to work.Boris Johnson heralded today as first day the ‘work from home'guidance ends.Britons can go back to the workplace at the ‘discretion’ of their employers. Almost five in six office employees will stay at home today despite the Government’s drive to get staff to return to their workplaces.A Mail audit of 30 of Britain’s biggest firms, representing 320,000 employees, found that just 17 per cent of office-based staff would travel to work this week.

Boris Johnson heralded the first Monday in August – as the day ‘work from home’ guidance ends and Britain should return to the office.

The Guardian.Few workers heed Boris Johnson’s plea to get back to offices.Places in Birmingham and Canary Wharf in London deserted despite call to return after Covid lockdown.

Boris Johnson’s plea that people “should be going back to work” in offices across England from Monday appeared to have gone unheeded in central Birmingham.

In the Colmore business district, which normally has 35,000 workers, most office blocks were largely deserted and at the city’s train stations at rush hour only a handful of people sauntered out, mostly heading to work in shops or hospitals rather than to office-based jobs.Johnson had said it was “important people should be going back to work now”, but even he seemed to struggle to lead by example. The prime minister left his office in Downing Street after lunchtime and spent most of the day working from his country residence at Chequers.Among the roughly two dozen people the Guardian spoke to in Birmingham on Monday morning, only two were on the way back to office work for the first time since the coronavirus lockdown.Radha Heera said she was “excited but very nervous” about heading back to her desk at West Midlands police headquarters after almost five months at home. It was not only her first day back at work but the first time she had left her house in Wolverhampton because she had been shielding for medical reasons.

🎼PRINCE ‘ Louis Louis 🎼……………

I did the spiel about the song oh yesterday or the day before you can flip over back there and read it if you like. The most adorable new photo of Prince Louis today was in the cards,the thank you cards that were sent to people who had wished him a happy birthday. He is all over the Middleton, my goodness he is pulling strong for the Middleton side of the family. He is a handsome little boy wow not the George is not, but he certainly is very very well representing the Middletons! I want to try and add that picture in like I did yesterday with the surfboard picture.I’m going to see if it will add. It will probably be at the top of the riddle but then there will be a big blank space here, but at least you’ll get to see it. 😁Now from the daily mail. Oh, brother! Prince Louis, two, looks just like Prince George in new photo released to thank royal fans for their birthday well-wishes.The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge released an unseen photo of Prince Louis. They shared the photo to thank royal fans for their well-wishes on his second birthday. The photo, , taken by his mum, shows Louis grinning at the camera.It was taken at the same time as photos released to mark the occasion in April.

a result in 90 mins. ……………

New ‘lifesaving’ tests to transform the war on coronavirus: 90-minute checks will be rolled out for the NHS next week - and then used to routinely screen Britons with no symptoms.Two new coronavirus tests will be offered to millions of Britons from next week. The tests, which give results in 90 minutes, will first be introduced to the NHS.Health Secretary Matt Hancock described the move as ‘lifesaving’ on Sunday. One is so simple it could soon be deployed in airports, offices, schools, pubs and restaurants – bringing testing to the bulk of the population.

The companies involved would not reveal the cost but claim it is similar or cheaper to current tests – which are around £18 privately but less to the NHS.Health Secretary Matt Hancock described the move as 'lifesaving’ as the Government looks to avert a second wave of the disease, prevent the need for draconian lockdowns and restart the stalled economy.

The two tests will initially be introduced in the NHS and care homes before being made available more widely over the next few months.

Unlike current tests given mainly to patients who already think they have the virus, the new methods will be used to routinely screen members of the public who show no symptoms.

Officials hope they will flag up local outbreaks before they take hold, avoiding the need for local lockdowns such as that imposed in the North West last week.

very HUME-an…………

This reminds me of the 90s song I’m only human but I can’t think of the band, I’m only human, of flesh and blood l am made. Anyone who knows who sang that song can you put it in the comments for me please,it’s going to drive me nuts.

John Hume, a Northern Irish Catholic leader and Nobel Peace laureate, dies at 83. The veteran civil rights campaigner was credited with kick-starting peace negotiations.John Hume, a key Roman Catholic architect of Northern Ireland’s 1998 Good Friday peace agreement who won the Nobel Peace Prize for his role in ending 30 years of sectarian violence, died on Monday at the age of 83, his SDLP party said.Hume, a veteran civil rights campaigner credited with kick-starting peace negotiations in a British region convulsed by bloodshed in the early 1990s, shared the Peace Prize with Northern Ireland’s then-first minister, David Trimble of the Protestant Ulster Unionist Party. He died in a care home in his native Londonderry, also called Derry, in the early hours of Monday morning, his family said.😁CBC

MM , mendacious,cheat, grifter yacht puta ,, plagiarist, druggy, petulant, dubious ,provenance!!…………

Well MM ANON, do you feel better getting this off your chest? Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha! Should be a very very specific , probably bespoke birthday card,to include all of her characteristics that she possesses. Yes this is the top 10 isn’t it? One must celebrate something on her birthday, she is all those things and more and much much more! There’s a saying what goes around comes around. Karma. I do believe she has Markled herself, with this ‘book’. I also believe that she has marketed herself repeatedly in places all over the world at any price anything! anything! and everything!This word, puta, reminds me of a TV show called Everybody Loves Raymond. Well they went to Italy to visit relatives.and they came back. And there was a girl that one of the guys met there she came back too and she was working in the local Pizza parlour. She was beautiful and oh this guy was dating somebody at the time and his mother, if you ever watch that show, she was very controlling to put it mildly. And that the girls nickname was a pizza parlour Putana 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂😂which was a not very flattering and you can guess what that means. It means exactly what Madam is and you don’t have to imagine very hard! I like to think that everybody has some good in them. However the people the backers the people that I hang around with JE and GM, that sort of people, they are and have been serving a dark master. And they have ensnared themselves and allied with evil. Only God can save them. So we leave them to God!

“ never returning BP” ……………

There are currently renovations and refurbishing going on Buckingham Palace. Due to the ongoing nature of COVID-19, the reality is that her Majesty the Queen will not be returning there. She will continue likely doing zoom meetings and things from a distance, like Sir Tom’s Knighthood. The days of walkabouts, shaking hands, being amongst the public in the crowds, all those things that she has done for decades and loves so much, those days are gone. For her own safety and health. This must be so heartbreaking to her and my heart goes out to her.

Hackers🐻🐻🐻…………………Cozy Bear and Fancy Bear are both linked to Russian intelligence agencies. Cozy Bear accused Cozy Bear cyber spies of trying to steal coronavirus vaccine information from the U.S., Britain, and Canada. Russia denies the allegations. Security officials have accused Russian hackers of trying to steal information about coronavirus vaccine research in the U.S., Canada and the U.K.The U.S. Department for Homeland Security, the Cybersecurity Infrastructure Security Agency, the National Security Agency, Canada’s Communications Security Establishment and the U.K.’s National Cyber Security Centre joined forces Thursday in accusing Russia of the hacking campaign.“It is completely unacceptable that the Russian Intelligence Services are targeting those working to combat the coronavirus pandemic,” U.K. Foreign Secretary Dominic Raab said in a statement. “While others pursue their selfish interests with reckless behaviour, the U.K. and its allies are getting on with the hard work of finding a vaccine and protecting global health.” Raab also said that he was almost certain that Russians sought to interfere in the U.K.’s general election in 2019 but he didn’t point the figure at any specific group. Russia denied both of the allegations. Who are Cozy Bear and Fancy Bear?Cozy Bear and Fancy Bear are thought to be hacking groups within separate Russian intelligence agencies.APT29 - mean advanced persistent threat - or Cozy Bear is believed to be working for SVR, Russia’s foreign intelligence organisation.According to the NCSC, an arm of GCHQ, Cozy Bear “almost certainly operates as part of Russian intelligence services”. Fancy Bear, or APT28, is believed to be part of GRU, Russia’s military intelligence agency.standard.co.uk and CNBC.😁I have looked and looked and looked and looked and I can find nothing about a third bear or third bear hacking group. I have never heard about the hacking organizations fancy bear and cosy bear! Thank you, MM Anon! I have learned something major that I should’ve known absolutely! Might this be bear number three? Secret UK trade documents used by then Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn to attack the Government were stolen by Russian hackers from the email account of former international trade secretary Liam Fox, it was reported today.

The Department of International Trade documents on post-Brexit trade talks with the US were brandished by the hard Left MP at a press conference in November, days before he led his party to a catastrophic vote defeat at the hands of Boris Johnson. The Reuters news agency today cited sources who said they were taken from the email of Dr Fox, who had been removed from his post by Boris Johnson the previous July. They declined to name which Russian group or organisation they believed was responsible, but said the attack bore the hallmarks of a state-backed operation. This might be the third bear who has yet to be named.

Windsor home!!

Windsor Castle will be HMTQ’s new home base. I just think it’s marvellous HMTQ and Prince Philip, The Duke of Edinburgh,have had all this time together. They are both looking so well! I was so happy to see them at Beatrice’s wedding how beautiful HMTQ looked and how hale and hearty Himself looked. I think this is, I have said this before, but I think this is probably the most time they’ve had together in their entire marriage and it will continue to be right think it’s just absolutely marvellous! If there’s anything good come out of that just Covid-19,that is it!

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

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80. Aug 5

MM ANON …… An ageing Puta , con grifter!! ……… The Royal families take the p*ss ( happy birthday)………… 50 dead , 2,700 injured ……………an Emu and a duck. …………… US open ( closing)………………McCartney/Lennon 😱…………… a rare sowing machine ………… K&W expect……… ………… another boundary??………… “ it’s a birthday Jim, but not as she knows it”🤣🤣🤣

Entertainment purposes

Aug 4/20

August 5/2020 Riddle was from yesterday sorry kids and I wasn’t here yesterday. I’m not feeling well and I just came on today to take a peek and l,did Miss a Riddle but I don’t think I missed a Balmoral. so I’m gonna get this want to go and see how see how it goes OK. Don’t mind my scratchy voice and stuffy nose OK Ha Hah Hah Hah Hah Hah Hah Hah oh man I sound like a smoker when I’m laughing right now home and I’m not a smoker but you know how that sound right?

August 5/2020. Riddle #80!!!

An ageing Puta , con grifter!! ……… The Royal families take the p*ss ( happy birthday)…………

Well Puta in Spanish and putana in Italian are same thing. A woman of the streets, a common street corner prostitute, a woman of very uncouth behavior! Those all fit Madam except she found other ways and places to apply her trade shall we say.. As with all of us she is ageing and she thought she would pull off the con of her life pulling one over on the royal family Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha stupid woman! She had no idea who she was dealing with and she still doesn’t she still is flagging that PR out there. And it’s worse is what’s worse is there’s people that are helping her those people are even more pathetic than she is! And there was all this will the royal family say happy birthday well they won’t will they will they won’t they won’t they will they will they will take. Well we all knew they would. We all knew they would they take the highroad as I said the other riddle her Majesty was on her way to Scotland and she took the high road. I hope you get the part of the song I’ll take the road and you get to take the low road and I’ll be in Scotland before you all know that song right? well her Majesty took the highroad and I love the photo that was posted on man it was 80% her majesty and 90 no no no 80 and 90 does not give 100% 20% Madam let’s say that way underneath oh, kids my brain is so stuffed up you’re gonna have to spare with me spare with me bear with me oh my all this is gonna be this is going to be the day oh my? as ever per decorum they extended lovely birthday greetings to Madame. Nothing more and certainly nothing less!

50 dead , 2,700 injured ……………

This is pretty bad. I mean horrific explosion in downtown Baghdad Baghdad all Lord help me to Beirut oh kids this is going to be off anyway Beirut not bag that there may have been a bombing in Baghdad I don’t know but this one is referring to Beirut! The stupidest thing was entirely preventable, this was entirely preventable!. Do you remember the bombing in Oklahoma City? I remember it like it was yesterday here’s a little little catch-up for those who may not know. The Oklahoma City bombing was a domestic terrorist truck bombingof the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building[1] in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, United States, on April 19, 1995. Perpetrated by American terrorists Timothy McVeigh and Terry Nichols, the bombing happened at 9:02 am and killed at least 168 people, including many children. Anyhow they used fertilizer bombs in the amount of damage and carnage is just unbelievable. Know what you have here in Beirut was illegal storage in a warehouse. I am so angry about this I cannot even tell you it’s just so senseless! Here’s something from the DM. Lebanese port officials are put under house arrest over Russian businessman’s abandoned ammonium nitrate which blew up Beirut: String of warnings were made over chemicals impounded six years ago as astonishing images show it stored at the dock’s hangar 12.Lebanon’s cabinet has placed all officials responsible for Beirut port security since 2014 under house arrest. Comes after fire at a warehouse sparked a massive explosion that devastated the city, killing at least 135.Customs officers insisted authorities were repeatedly warned about the danger, but refused to take action.Explosive chemicals belonged to Russian businessman Igor Grechushkin before being impounded in port. Does it make you wonder why Russia is involved yet again? Yet again? Makes me wonder how many other warehouses there are like this all over the world where they are illegally storing ammonia nitrate and other things other lethal things! So so so unnecessary!

an Emu and a duck. ……………

Oh MM Anon, What is this is one of the obscure things that only English people know? Which is so much of your riddles.🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂😂Well I know one swims and is smaller and one is huge! and is featured in a current ad campaign for some company. It is funny how TV commercials you see the ad but, if you remember the ad, you have no idea what they were advertising. And there’s a bunch of commercials right now that are running with a guy in the yellow shirt and his partner is an emu and I have no idea maybe it’s an ostrich I’m not sure they’re both big birds anyway not THE big bird, THE big bird is from Sesame Street.😁😁🤣🤣🤣🤣😂 I am always the DM leaps in to the rescue.Orville and Emu are at centre of battle between Keith Harris and Rod Hull’s widows and toy-maker who ‘borrowed’ iconic puppets only to put them up for £10,000 sale at Bonhams.The birds had been put up for sale by merchandiser Roger Shaw with Bonhams.They were expected to make up to £20,000 for the pair at leading auctioneers.But it was scrapped after uproar from Harris’ widow Sarah and Hull’s widow Cher.The women are ‘determined to have the birds returned to their rightful owners’.I hate that when people try and make money off of cherished things like that. You see that so often with celebrity memorabilia or stuff like that like real actors I’m talking like Olivia de Haviland who recently passed away that kind of acted when their stuff get sold it’s just it just feels so wrong to me!

US open ( closing)………………

Ashleigh Barty pulls out of US Open amid concern over Covid-19.

World No 1 Ashleigh Barty has withdrawn from the US Open in a massive blow to the New York grand slam.

Not comfortable about travelling during the coronavirus pandemic, Barty is the biggest name yet to opt out of the major because of the global health crisis. My team and I have decided that we won’t be travelling to the US and Western and Southern Open and the US Open this year,” Barty said in a statement issued by her manager.Barty is still weighing up whether to resume her season in Europe and ultimately try to defend her French Open crown in Paris. o includes events for senior, junior, and wheelchair players. Since 1978, the tournament has been played on acrylic hard courts at the USTA Billie Jean King National Tennis Center in Flushing Meadows–Corona Park, Queens, New York City. Given the location of where were the U.S. Open is normally played right smack in the centre of Queens New York. Queens a borough of New York. With New York currently having us a lawn enforcement teams at every entrance and exit to the city, to the entire city! I cannot see how this could possibly continue there’s just no way. I know it’s gonna happen. Even if all the players came there’s no way it would happen!

McCartney/Lennon 😱……………

There has been a long time rumours of Paul McCartney and John Lennon having had a fling. And when I say fling I think you can infer what I’m saying. I know Paul McCartney had done an interview in 2018 with you GQ magazine I’ll put the link here. l don’t know if he’s declared that openly. I know many Beatles fans and party fans don’t want to know about this or to believe it or whatever but there’s so much stuff online about it you can research and I’m not gonna do that for you but I will do is put the link to the 2018 interview here. https://www.gq.com/story/the-untold-stories-of-paul-mccartney

a rare sowing machine …………

I have a old singer treadle sewing machine are you are meeting with MM Anon? My mum made a point of going to auction sales until she had one for each of us children. Mine still works like a charm just got to keep it greased up and it works perfectly!But seriously in the United States there’s an election for a new president in November. Who would’ve thought it with all the other news going on!? There has been a lot of talk in the last week or so about absentee ballots and voter mail in ballots. Some people don’t know the difference and some people do. I am not American so I will not attempt to explain that but suffice it to say there are two, aw heck I’ll explain it or try to. An absentee ballot is like if you’re not able to vote, you’re in the military outside the country or you’re in the hospital or your work has you in such a place where you cannot vote. A mail in ballot is something that you can request the form for and is simply if you just are not able to do or do not want to wait in the queue to vote, you can request a mail in ballot it will be sent you you can vote your things and then mail it back in. I’ve even seen interviewers and people talking about just just forgetting the whole, waiting in the queue for this election due to Covid, just rather just send open ballot voting like mail ballots to every household and then people can just mail back in the votes. Well the problem with that is there’s a lot of people who would be missed by that and there’s a lot of reasons why they would be missed and I’m not gonna go into right now that’s a whole bigger issue. However there are active workers sowing seeds of doubt in the validity of the coming election. It’s been happening for quite some time, actually been happening since President Trump was elected. The day after he was sworn in, they were already protesting and planning to get him out of office. They were already planning how to destabilize the government and sow doubt in his validity as president. And that has continued every single day of his presidency there has been a huge effort from the left, in the far left fascist left,and even further left than that Anarchy,to discredit him discredit his presidency and discredit everything that the Republican Party stands for. And that even includes many former Republicans which I I just I just can’t believe. You’re going to join with the left is fascist because you don’t agree with with some of the policy or you don’t like the person? Isn’t it party before person? Doesn’t the party set do the voting like I’m pretty sure I’m pretty sure like every senator or whatever member of Congress they each vote so yeah there is party before vote! OK enough of me here’s some research to kind of back up what I’m saying. article after article after article that I’m finding uses the word SOW. And most of those articles are from the left. I’m so hesitant to link any here because I don’t want to further their agenda. In fact I’m not going to link anything here because everything I found is from the left it’s even in the headline Trump sows blah blah blah…. you could find it, it is easy to find on Google. Easy easy easy to fine because Google is a left-wing owned company. Recommend it to me another search engine the other day and that’s amazing whatever found on there never appeared on Google so I they won’t mind, and I hope maybe you guys will know what I don’t know but it’s a website called DuckDuckGo and it’s a search engine and it’s amazing what you can all find in there. So keep your mind open kids and do your research. Dont just stick to watch one search engine especially with something that’s important. Because your election, and I’m speaking American friends now, your election is vitally important. I live in the country that is your biggest border and your closest neighbour well other than Mexico of course but you know what I mean. And what happens in your country greatly has affected will affect and will continue to check my country in the entire world.

K&W expect……… …………

MM Anon l am not falling for this again!🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂! My heart broken too many times. I think with Catherine and William are likely expecting is the return of their children either to school or homeschool routine, regular schedule or something like that. They also are expecting a change in what little public appearances they have been able to do I hate use the word appearance because that’s not the right word but it are use that for the sake of not thinking being able to think of another word right now but ha ha ha ha ha ha. DMCatherine and William have fun at Gavin & Stacey amusement arcade: Royal couple visit Barry Island attraction from BBC comedy as they try to provide boost to Britain’s Covid-hit tourism industry. They carried out two engagements in South Wales on Wednesday. Paid visit to iconic 'Nessa’s’ arcade in Barry Island and heard about impact of Covid-19 on tourism sector.Couple travelled to Shire Hall Care Home in Cardiff where they spoke to staff, residents and family members. The mother-of-three cut a stylish figure in a £1,635 designer dress by Emelia Wickstead and tan wedges. She sure loves her some wedges doesn’t she!?!😊😁😁😁🤣🤣🤣It comes just one day after royal donned a face mask for first time and visited a baby bank in Sheffield. I find it very interesting that the visit to the baby bank there those pictures appeared on the blog the other day and someone was questioning where those pictures were from. So either someone snuck out some pictures and then had them printed on the blog or the paper followed up on those pictures either way I think it’s interesting how Skippy yet again sets the pace set the information out there! They are trying to increase tourism but with all the new lockdowns, and more coming oh my goodness on lockdown now is Aberdeen! The Queen just drove through there yesterday! If it had been close yesterday they would’ve had to take a helicopter to Balmoral!

another boundary??…………

Lock down lockdown some more lockdowns in the greater Manchester area people are they have been on lockdown and some people that I’ve included included in that boundary are really quite upset because they not feel they have never been included in that jurisdiction that they are Cheshire just like the Cheshire cat! So it’s not a whole lot of people into lockdown that wouldn’t necessarily have been and I think a lot of people want to know why all of a sudden their postcards are being included in the greater Manchester postcards! Plus it’s also going to affect his face if your home is the greatest investment and that’s going to affect cash value of your home as well!!Aberdeen is on lockdown! New York City in New York City they are now having at every entrance and exit point I don’t know if every police or state police or watt that you it’ll be like going into another country you’ll have to declare yourself and they can turn you away or not and then you have to go into isolation! It is it is if anybody thinks Covid is going away it is not it is it is expanding at a rate that is frightening! All this quick to unlock down oh there’s my word again that I need to unlock down oh my will there ever be normal again sometimes I wonder if you know normal will be wearing facemasks that we live in bubbles like the it’s quite concerning. And talks of London going back in to lockdown. OK kids you should see this poor software trying to understand my stuffy nose oh my this is almost too funny!

“ it’s a birthday Jim, but not as she knows it”🤣🤣🤣

Again dearest M and M and M Eminem Eminem you’re a rapper no MM Anon. The favourite Star Trek reference that covers everything in life that has changed to such a drastic degree! Yes Madam had a birthday yesterday but it was likely a very unusual one like she’s never ever had. And next year’s birthday is likely to be equally as unusual. She was on her PR ! been saying she was going to throw a $200,000 birthday party for herself and usually when she mentions money in her PR, that means how much she wants how much money she wants from somebody for something.. I especially loved the birthday greeting that she wrote to her self pretending to be Harry, signing it love H! Oh that was just a kicker to me oh she’s a silly woman! I put it mildly!

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

—————-

[caphayzardous]

I can’t believe I’m now having this problem and considering it a problem but,

I had an interview with a barista place on Monday, and a gardening place yesterday. The gardening place made a really good impression, seems to have a considered workplace culture, and it’s what I want to pursue. It is set to organise job trials throughout next week, though I’m not yet sure when mine will be. However, today I got a call back from the barista place; they want me in for 3 days next week, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. 

First of all, my concern is that this will clash with whatever the gardeners want to organise, since I told them I was available any day. I’ve sent off a message to the gardeners now requesting Monday or Tuesday. Secondly, I’m concerned that if either of these job applications progress I will have to turn one down, but may not actually secure the other. Thirdly... and this one’s ridiculous... the gardening job is what I really want to do, it’s an apprenticeship that involves 1 day of study and 4 days of work. It pays apprentice wages, $18-something per hour. That’s acceptable to me, I will be able to make rent on that, and as I said it’s what I want to do! H-however, the barista job is offering casual rates for the job trials next week, at $30 per hour..! And the job listing itself said the wage was $26+, so even not at the casual rate it would really be wild to make that kind of money..! Am I a sell out? Fucken maybe!!!

Until I can 100% guarantee the apprenticeship, there’s no way I want to risk not getting this barista job. But right now the barista job seems more assured. I just have to hope nothing clashes, and that one way or another I get due notice if I have gotten or not gotten either job. I really don’t want to end up signing a contract for the barista one and THEN have to take it back. And if I end up getting neither of these I suppose I will just lose my fucking mind? Yeah. I’m going to be holding some stress about this until it’s through and sorted. I want to be ‘realistic’ and say, what’s the worst that could happen? Something clashes and I have to say ‘actually, another day’, or I get offered a job and have to say ‘actually, no, I’ve gone with another offer’? But really, the worst that happens is it all goes smoothly but I’m STILL not chosen for either role, haha.

[megamanxfanfics]

The Hiatus

I’ve been dreading the idea of writing this, but the fact that I am at all means that I’m coming out of my funk and am looking onward towards moving ahead, and hopefully forward, once again with this project in the future.  I’m afraid I’ve got a lot of explaining to do.  Wouldn’t you know it?  Life got in the way again.

It seems that every new Writing Season, something always happens to me to shift things around and make it near-impossible towards writing Mega Man X.  I’ve been mulling over how to talk about all of this without getting too personal on an MMX blog.  But the fact is that what happened to me is very personal.  And very complicated.  So I’m gonna just go for it, while keeping it in simplest terms.

I broke up with my girlfriend last month.  Which means I had to move out...

I can say that with dry eyes now, and without a heavy heart.  It was a smooth break.  Very mutual.  We both knew it needed to happen, because we weren’t happy at all. (Always doing our own thing, making separate plans... etc. etc. etc.)

But back to this.

I recall back in November I had posted a Writing Exercise - What X Remembers, in an attempt to kick-start my motivation for this project.  Needless to say, it didn’t work.  I can tell you right now that I wasn’t exactly busy.  I was burnt out.

Yes, I’ve been wanting and wanting to start this thing, but in the planning phases, I’ve also been afraid of it.  Because I don’t want to mess this up. Or it’s too confusing, or disjointed.  And I know how I get.  I harp and harp on things until it’s perfect, or feels good enough to present.  And... frankly, I was in a position where things were so bad at home, that I just wanted to spend time with her to keep everyone happy.

I would also take advantage of ‘Me-Time Monday’ as I used to call it when she’d be out doing her own thing.  Except my creative outlet for those days would be working on music, which is my first passion.  I’ve taken on a massive project of adding vocals to a lot of old music I had written, and even now I’m maybe half-way through that.  And there were definitely certain Mondays that I wasn’t even in the mood for music...  I certainly wasn’t in the mood for X.

I was depressed...  She was depressed...  But why?

Well... this blog, isn’t exactly about that.  But what I can tell you is that we were just going through this mundane routine every day.  Even our weekends became routine.  And neither of us were fun to be around any more.  Even upon realizing it and trying to do different things.  ‘Go out on a date, Dummy!’  That’s what I would tell myself.  But even nice events didn’t work.  She’d complain about being tired, or full or we wouldn’t talk at all.  That... was the extent of our interactions.  Outside of that, we’d just watch our shows, which would entertain us, and make us laugh.  We’d hold hands and stuff, sometimes.  But even then... it didn’t really feel romantic.  As one friend put it best, “It sounds like a friendship...”

And we both realized that last month.

So you could say that from November-February, I had slowly been working at getting my motivation toward this project back up.  Despite my daily toils, I was driven to bring myself to do the things that make me happy.  I had even reread most of the Writing Diaries, all the way up to Season V again, which took me down a nice bit of Nostalgia Road.  Reading about the Process of this Project is just as fun as reading the actual episodes for me.  It’s the Journey, not the Destination, after all.

But like I said, then February happened and we just imploded.  Everything immediately broke down.  My living space, my comfort zone.. where I was going to be!!  I didn’t know what to do.

In week 1 I took out the time to hang out with all of my closest friends.  I told everyone who needed to know first.

In week 2, I started seriously looking for places.  And that was equally exciting as it was exhausting.  However, I did find one thing that wouldn’t be ready for the next 2 months!  And that also freaked me out.  Now I had a pseudo-time table on my hands, but it was a little too long.

In week 3, I cracked.  We absolutely got into a fight in our shared space.  Things were so smooth as friends and roommates.  We had still shared our King Size Bed, and kept it completely civil, since nothing romantic was happening in the bedroom anyway...  But, at some point, some Social Media Drama occurred and I actually started acting like an Ex.  It was becoming very clear to me that living together any longer was going to destroy my Mental Health.  So I made the choice to get out of there, sooner than anticipated.  That Friday, I put a bag together and stayed at my parent’s house.

The original plan was to ride this out as long as possible and move into the 2nd Bedroom while I start to leisurely pack, as I keep looking for places.  But instead, all this drama accelerated my schedule and forced me out of that house.  That weekend, I came back to grab the rest of my clothes and relocate my TV back to my Parent’s house... Which takes me to week 4.  

In week 4, I focused on helping my brother with an After-school play.  I changed my work hours for him and everything, but on top of that, I had an unexpected interview which could’ve changed everything!!!  You see, I’ve been looking for better jobs at the same time as looking for new places.  And that’s what made this so stressful.  That’s even partially what caused all this drama, because one night I tried complaining about it to her, and she didn’t really seem to care much.  We were acting like exes to each other, and I really couldn’t handle it.  So once we got into a fight, that was the wake up call.  We’re not together anymore.  We can’t do this any more! Literally.  It was time to get out of there and move on.   Well, the job interview wasn’t in the cards... but it’s for the best, because it would’ve made this new place that I’ve been hoping for, not make sense any more.   That weekend, I got together all of my books/movies/games/comics, electronics, pictures, etc. etc. while she had put together boxes of the kitchenware I get to take.  By Sunday Night, basically all of my stuff was out of there. I couldn’t believe it.  It was very therapeutic and bittersweet.

This takes us to Week 5 - last week.  The commotion has slowed down to an abrupt halt.  I’ve been very tired.  Technically I have all the time in the world for MMX now, but I’m just not there yet.  And I probably won’t be for another month.  And I say that now, because I’m literally in between places.  All of my stuff is in boxes at my Parent’s house, but this other place that I saw is in the process of coming through.  Their time table accelerated a little bit.  I got news yesterday that the place has been painted, and that new carpets will be installed on 3/23.  As I am basically move-in ready, but also really want this to be the place, I worked with my new Landlord and asked him if I can start to leave boxes this weekend.

And that’s what I did today.  Today I left the first installation of boxes into that house’s basement.  It will be the new location I call my home, and the best part about it is that it’s only 5 minutes from Work.  That’s HUGE.  [But that too is temporary, as I still need a better job.]. One day at a time though, right?

This is primarily the reason why I’m writing today.  I feel that the brunt of this Transition Period has reached it’s Apex, and from here, it’s gonna be pretty smooth sailing into the next place, as I become acquainted with my New Normal of 2020.

I’m also writing, because admittedly, I have been thinking about MMX6 again, and rather than catch up with the rest of the diaries, I just read the last one.  Where I actually regressed into plot points again and still couldn’t answer certain questions, like what those stupid teleport portals are.  I mean, how much of an explanation do I really need?  It’s Mega Science!

I’ll be honest.  I could start tomorrow, and I’d probably feel pretty good about it, until I hit my first slump.  Which will most likely be the Central Museum stage.  And then I won’t want to do anything.

No, my heart’s just not in it yet.  I don’t want to start MMX6 on my laptop.  I want to be fully set up and Comfortable in my New Place when I start Season VI properly.  The silver lining is that I have all the time in the world for this and my music, now.  And I’ll have to feel out that situation too, because I desperately want to do both.  And that’s part of the conflict too.  Both projects literally interfere with each other, because I only have enough time and energy for one or the other on any given night.

Keep in mind, once I have my own place, everything’s on me.  That’s cooking, dishes, laundry and of course self-care, right?  So that involves the necessary shower, and of course entertaining yourself.  And that means yes, actually pulling myself away from my hobbies that I tend to wrap myself in so much.

I’m not blaming this project for losing my girl, or my music.  Hell, I’m not even blaming myself.  We just weren’t a good fit for each other, but we sure tried to be.  For 5 Years!  There was a lot of good in those 5 years too.  But she changed a lot.  Me too.  But her, more...  In a less fun way.  Very easy for me to say, of course.

These things happen.  People change.  And we truly made the healthiest choice to end it when we did.  It was really just a logical conversation about what isn’t working, and both of us literally agreeing that this doesn’t make sense any more.  My friend last night put it best.  “I think your relationship just ran its course.  You both saw it through to a complete end, and it was really good that you chose to end it when you did, because neither of you were happy any more...”

And there it is.  I suppose I’m ending this on that note.  One day I’ll be ready for MMX6 again.  But today is not that day.  And instead, I’ll be playing the MMZ/ZX Legacy Collection in the meantime.  =P.   And no.  Don’t get any ideas.  I have NO intention of writing an MMZ Anime.

[theworldofotps]

Forgive Me? (Part 1)

Pairing: Finn Balor X Reader Word Count: 1,906 Description: You dated Fergal when you were just crossing the threshold of adulthood at the age of 23. When your relationship ends you go your separate ways trying to forget the memories. Eleven years later you run into each other at an NXT event. -Angst Eleven years ago "Fergal put me down!"

You laugh at your crazy boyfriend who has you tossed over his shoulder pretending he was going to drop you onto the floor. The gym you were at was practically empty seeing as it was five-thirty, you were supposed to be helping him train for a match he had in a few days.

"I don't see ya tryin hard to get down."

"Because you'll drop me."

Fergal chuckles setting you down placing a kiss to your lips a smile stretched across his face.

"I wouldn't dream about it."

"We're supposed to be training for your match on Friday and all you can do is mess around."

"Ya worry too much love I'll practice I just enjoy getting to spend this time together."

You can't help but smile as he presses a kiss to your cheek walking over to the treadmill.

"(Y/n)?"

"Yes, Ferg?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Fergal grins pressing the start button on the machine the rest of the morning is spent working out. ~Later that week~ "And that's it that's it folks Devitt has lost the British Commonwealth Championship." You can't help but groan with some of the audience as Fergal slips from the ring waving as he heads to the back. You knew he was going to be upset grabbing your things you make your way to where Fergal would come out once changed. Waiting for half an hour he finally comes out head hung and bag is thrown over his shoulder.

"Babe, are you alright?"

"Yeah."

Wrapping his arm around your waist the two of you make your way to your car knowing he would probably rather go home than to your place.

"Home?"

Fergal nods his head you pull into the traffic taking him home promising to visit him later, you were really worried about how this would affect him. The next morning you left a message on his phone about having to work but promised you would visit the following day. You couldn't help but wonder what his next plan of action was going to be. Putting it from your mind for now so you could focus you begin checking customers out.

"(Y/n) your shift is over you can head home."

"Thanks, Dave I'll see you later."

Waving you head into the back grabbing your phone and bag checking to see if you had any messages from Fergal a sigh passes when there aren't any. Deciding to just let him have some time over the loss you refrain from sending any other messages apart from one right before bed where you tell him you love him.

"Good morning Mrs. Devitt."

"Good morning (Y/n) come in love how are you?"

"I'm good how are you?"

"Very well a bit busy with everything but good none the less."

"Did you hear about the match?"

"Yes I did he was really upset about it I told him it was one title he could do it again he just had to keep trying."

"Exactly that's so true."

She smiles offering you some water as you sit at the table taking a sip of water you set it aside.

"Is he here?"

"No dear he's gone."

"What?"

"Yeah he left last night, early yesterday morning he signed a contract with New Japan Pro-Wrestling. They wanted him to go over for a few days to check everything out before he moves over there."

You stare at her in shock concern covering her face as she gently places her hand over yours.

"He didn't tell you?"

"No I had no idea I called him yesterday but he didn't answer I just figured I would give him some time to himself."

"I'm so sorry sweetie we thought he told you and that was why he was so down."

You shake your head wiping the tears on your face you couldn't believe he hadn't told you this was such a big step for him. Not to mention your relationship he obviously didn't want to be with you anymore since he couldn't tell you. You sit with his mum for a little longer to calm down before heading for the door.

"(Y/n) I just want you to know if you ever need anything just let us know and stop by at any time."

"Thank you I appreciate it so much."

Embracing once more you head out to your car wanting nothing more than to crawl under a rock. Writing a quick message to Fergal you put his name on it leaving it on your desk so you could have his mum give it to him the next time she saw him. From that night on you made a promise to yourself to try your absolute best to move on. Fergal never returned your call his mum made she he got the letter after giving him a good lecturing. You spend the next eleven years working where you finally leave the store for you had been at. After going to university you received your degree in journalism alongside becoming a certified makeup artist. When WWE was looking for someone to do makeup on wrestlers, divas and to interview them you jumped at the chance hoping to be so busy you could forget the memories that still haunted you. ~Present time~ "(Y/n) are you able to do a last minute interview Eric called off he has the flu."

"Yeah who is it with?"

"Finn Balor here's the questions you're supposed to ask."

Taking the paper you read over the questions trying to memorize them as quick as possible before you had to meet the wrestler. Wiping the makeup off your hands you grab a microphone fixing your dress as you stand by the camera at the NXT house show.

"Next we have Finn Balor who is going for the NXT championship."

Your heart nearly stops when you see none other than Fergal Devitt walking towards you.

"Is is that him?"

You mouth so the camera won't catch it your coworker nods Fergal looks up stopping when he spots you.

"Ladies and gentlemen I am joined with Finn Balor who will be taking on Kevin Owens for the NXT championship title. Finn can you tell us how you're feeling to be going up against him for another title shot."

You hold the microphone out praying he would answer instead of just staring at you it takes him a few seconds before he gives a smile.

"Thank you for having me I'm feeling pretty confident despite not winning last time I've trained even harder and I'm really aiming for it."

"How has being with NXT differ from being in any other wrestling forms?"

"As with every wrestling outfit the styles are different the opponents and training, it's all something new to adjust too but I'm loving it so far."

You ask the remaining questions thanking him for his time before the cameras cut handing off your microphone you head for the area for interviewers to gather your bags. Putting away the makeup brushes and products you start placing them in your car for the next stop.

"Hello (Y/n)."

"Hi Mr. Balor."

You continue placing bags in reaching for the next one stopping when Fergal hands it to you.

"It's been awhile."

"Yeah eleven years to be exact."

"I'm sorry."

"No need to be it's in the past I'm not some little girl that needs to be tiptoed around I get it."

"You deserve an explanation."

"Don't you think I should have got one before you left me for Japan?"

You ask heading back inside to grab your last few bags he stays by your car watching you in silence.

"I thought about you a lot."

"That's great."

"Will you please let me explain please?"

"Fine."

Leaning against the boot of your car you cross your arms waiting for him to explain himself.

"When I lost the title I was so disappointed in myself I trained and trained you helped me for hours, I felt like I not only let myself down but you. When NJPW offered me a contract I took it right away wanting a new experience but I couldn't find it in myself to tell you in person. I couldn't stand to see your face fall when I told you I would be leaving and to break it off in person when I didn't want too. I took the cowards way about it and just left my mum told me off the next time I spoke with her and handed me the letter when I came home."

You stare as he messes with his fingers letting his words hang there in silence for a few minutes as you absorb it.

"I wondered about you and when I asked mum wouldn't tell me anything aside from you were fine. She said I didn't deserve to know unless I spoke and asked you it wasn't her place to let me know. When you started working for the WWE and doing interviews I followed your progress every chance I got. The fans really like you as an interviewer and you do a fantastic job with the makeup."

Fergal looks at you when he finishes speaking your push a hand through your hair as the wind picks up swirling around you both. The tear that managed to slip from your eye you quickly wipe it.

"When you left I was devastated I couldn't believe that you had just disappeared without telling me. I asked your mum about you just to be sure you were okay I tried to follow your way through wrestling but it was too painful so I stopped. I got my degrees and jumped at the chance to work with WWE I always loved wrestling so I took the job."

"You did really love going to the matches and watching you always were so supportive eager to learn."

You nod sitting on the boot patting it for him to join you as you try to work through all the emotions you felt.

"I am really sorry for hurting you and leaving the way I did I loved you more than anything and hurting you the way I did was terrible of me. Could you ever even if it's not for awhile just some time be able to forgive me?"

"Yeah, I probably could."

You say softly nodding your head Fergal gives you a small smile thanking you before sliding down.

"I think I better let you go we have to be in the next town by tomorrow afternoon."

"Do you have anyone to ride with?"

"I did but I'm not sure if they stuck around or if they thought I got a ride with someone else."

"Come on then let's go."

Unlocking the car you get in waiting for him to run and grab his things tossing them in your backseat he sits in the passenger seat. You drive casually talking with the radio on for background noise when you glance over after Fergal hasn't answered a question you smile seeing him fast asleep. You can't help the light squeeze in the area of your heart before you whisper softly.

"Okay, Balor let's see what happens."

@mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk

[alydiarackham]

(Cover by me)

The Last Scene: A Novel by Alydia Rackham

Prologue

           I’ve seen it ever since I was ten years old. While I’m lying in my bed, right between sleeping and waking—in the middle of that drowsy half-dream state, you know? Where your thoughts are more lucid than dreams and you can remember them, but the images are much brighter and clearer and more emotional than regular thoughts.

               So when I’m lying there, all snuggled in and surrounded by my pillows, relaxed and letting my mind wander—it hits me.

               A crystal-clear image of a little red velvet box, with a diamond ring in it. The diamond is all surrounded by gold leaves so it looks like a rose, with the diamond in the center. Someone, a man, is holding that ring box up to me. There’s nothing but blackness off to my left—and blinding white light to my right. The light is sparkling and twinkling all through the diamond, and I can see all different colors inside it. It just looks like a chip of magic.

               Then, just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone. It doesn’t fade off and meld into other thoughts. It’s just gone.

               That’s how I know it’s one of my Pictures.

               That’s what I call them. To myself. Because I’ve never told anyone about them. Ever. For a few reasons. One, because I never wanted to worry my parents—because they would worry. Two, because…Well, I never actually trusted anyone else to handle them correctly. I will see something—vivid, obscuring my vision, absolutely clear—and then, usually later that day, it happens.

               Most of the time, it’s something little. I’ll see a Picture of the coffee pot overflowing, and when I come out to breakfast, it’ll happen. Or I’ll see my dad tripping over a pair of tennis shoes, and an hour later, it’ll happen.  I’ll see my hand turning the key in the ignition of my car, a sunset, a cat walking across the street, a pair of people walking and laughing, me stubbing my toe on the end of my bed, the dog chasing a rabbit, things like that. Sometimes, I go days and days without seeing a Picture. Sometimes, I see two or three in one day.

               Now, with the one about my dad tripping over the shoes, or me stubbing my toe, you would think that I’d be able to prevent that kind of thing, right? Once I caught on to the fact that I was somehow seeing into the future? Sure, I thought so, too. When I was eleven, I saw a Picture of my mom slipping on a wet patch of cement outside and falling down. So, that morning, I made sure to take all the hoses and stretch them out across the yard so that no water could leak out of them onto the patio.

               Lo and behold, when I wasn’t looking, Mom just pulled one hose back to where it was and started watering the tree. I let the dog outside, Mom turned to see and stepped sideways into a puddle—

               And fell down. Just like I’d seen her do in my Picture.

               After that, I’d try to move shoes so they wouldn’t be tripped over—only to watch them be replaced by other shoes and still be tripped over. I’d try to fix coffee makers or scare rabbits away, yet they’d still overflow or get chased. I have never yet been able to prevent one of my Pictures.

               But what I have been able to do is become aware that something is about to happen. I see, for example, that my dad is going to trip over the shoes. So I don’t stray too far that day, I keep an eye out…

               And when he inevitably trips, I jump up to help catch him.

               It’s opened my eyes, made me far more awake to the world than most people are, I think. And yes, sometimes that’s scary. Very scary.

               Especially after my dog Jenny died.

               I saw a Picture of my family and I all standing around in our backyard, shoveling dirt back into a large hole. We were quiet, and my parents and sisters were crying.

               That disturbed me. I began waiting and watching that day for something to happen…

               But nothing did. I relaxed a little. Another day went by. Everything was fine. I relaxed more. Two weeks went by. I took a day to drive into the city and do some job searching.

               And when I got home, Mom told me that she’d taken Jenny into the vet because she was throwing up—and the vet said she had kidney failure.

               The next day, we put Jenny to sleep. And there we were, in the back yard, burying her. My parents and sisters crying.

               That’s the first time that the idea of these Pictures really and truly scared me.  

               All right, so, I take it back: I have talked to someone about this. I’ve talked to God about it. Quite a bit. Usually when I am scared or really worried about something I’ve seen. And because of that process, a sort of back and forth between Him and me, I’ve come to believe that this is some sort of secret gift I’ve been given. Just little fragments of insight, because I’m supposed to know them. I’m supposed to know them so that I don’t necessarily stop the bad ones from happening—but so that I’m there when they do.

               Except this one with the ring.

               Crystal clear, yet never in front of me in reality.

               I’m twenty-six years old now. I have a wonderful boyfriend named Jim Tucker, who I’ve known since high school. I’ve had a couple other boyfriends, too. None of them have even talked about that kind of ring. I mean, I love the style of it, but it isn’t something any of them would pick out. And the setting of that Picture seems funny. It’s indoors, I know that. If Jim ever proposes to me, I’m almost positive he’ll do it outside, on some high hill in the summer countryside, with the sunset as a background.

So maybe that ring means something else.

               It’s been strange, growing up and living with this sort of thing—because I do remember what it was like before. I know normal people don’t experience this. But I’ve done my best to be watchful and yet not too paranoid all through school. I went to college, came home during the summers and worked at the library in our little town in upstate New York…

And I’ve tried to look out for everyone all around me. All the time. Secretly watching over them, listening and calculating what the best response will be to whatever happens. Giving words of caution when I know they’ll be listened to and accepted. Words that won’t stop the fall, but might help someone catch themselves, or at least recover a little better. Because the pain I feel from a broken toe or a broken heart—my own, or someone else’s—is bad enough when experienced once.

But I have to live it twice.

 Chapter One

Friday, April 5th, 1985

             “Hi, Anne!”

               “Hi, Dad,” I croakily answered the bright voice on the other end of the phone, frowning as I rubbed my eyes. “What time is it?”

               “It’s six-thirty, sorry,” he answered. “I was just excited about this and wanted to call you right away.”

               “What’s going on?” I asked, turning over in my bed and stretching the phone cord, eyeing the minimal light leaking through my drapes.

               “How did that interview go yesterday?” Dad said instead.

               “Um…Fine,” I sighed, adjusting my pillow and trying to make myself think straight. “Well…sort of not fine. I mean, I interviewed okay, they just told me they needed someone with more experience.”

               “More experience?” my dad protested. “Isn’t a degree in speech therapy enough experience? I mean, what did I pay for, anyway?”

               “I know, right?” I sighed again. “I’m not sure how you’re supposed to get any experience if nobody will hire you in the first place…” I wound the cord around my fingers, shooting a dark look at the window again. The roar of the Manhattan traffic reached me even up here—a constant dull growl, occasionally punctuated by angry car horns.  “I’m probably going to have to move out as soon as this month’s lease is up. I’ll come home and see if I can get my job back at the library.”

               “Well, let’s hold off on that for a second,” my dad said. I sat up a little and frowned.

               “What? What do you mean?”

               “You remember Aaron Highgate, my friend from college?”

               “Yeah…?” I said, fully awake now. “Doesn’t he live here?”

               “Yeah, he does, and he’s a playwright,” Dad said. “A pretty good one. He’s written at least ten plays that have debuted on and off Broadway, and all of them got good reviews. They’ve been relatively small, but yeah, people liked them.”

               “Okay…?” I waited.

               “Well, he’s premiering another little play at the Quadrant Theatre, and I think you should audition.”

               I stared at the wall. My mouth fell open. I didn’t say anything.

               “Honey?” Dad called. “You still there?”

               “Um, yeah,” I managed. “Audition? For a Broadway play?”

               “It’s not Broadway,” Dad corrected. “What I mean is, it’s small. You did plays and musicals in high school and college!”

               “Those weren’t…I mean, yeah, but—this is New York!” I cried.

               “You’d be great for the part, though!” Dad answered. “Aaron gave me a copy of the script to read for fun, and the female lead practically just screamed ‘Annie!’ at me from the page.”

               “Oh, Dad, you’re biased!” I moaned.

               “No, I’m not,” he insisted. “You won, what, three awards for playing different parts in school?”

               “Yes,” I muttered.

               “And besides,” he went on. “When I talked to Aaron about it, telling him how brilliant the story was, he was just beside himself with frustration. Said that they’ve cast his nephew in the male lead, but they’ve been having a dickens of a time casting a female lead because nobody who tried out got along with his nephew, or seemed to fit, or whatever.”

               “What’s wrong with his nephew?” My eyes narrowed.

               “I don’t know, I think he’s just particular about getting it right,” Dad said. “I think he helped with a lot of the ideas for the script, or even wrote large parts of it, and he has a particular type in mind.”

               “And you think that type is me?” I raised my eyebrows.

               “It actually sounds like it,” Dad told me. “From what Aaron described, anyway.” He paused. “What do you think? Can I send you my copy of the script?”

               I sighed and put my hand over my face—fighting back a strange, jumpy sensation in my stomach.

               “Sure, okay,” I conceded. “Can’t hurt anything, right?”

               “That’s my girl.” I could hear my dad’s grin. “I’ll overnight it so you’ll have it tomorrow morning. And after you read it, you can call me and tell me what you think, and if you like it, I’ll tell you when and where the auditions are.”

               “Okay,” I tried to smile. “Thanks, Dad.”

               After we hung up, I lay there in bed for a while, turning that thought over in my mind. The air in my apartment was chilly—even though it was April, the weather still hadn’t really warmed up much after one of the coldest winters in the history of the universe. I pulled the blankets up over myself, almost covering my face, hoping I could get a little more sleep…

               Flash.

               Right in front of my eyes. A mostly-empty stage, painted black, with red curtains open. I was sitting on the stage, facing stage left. And through the back rooms, a dancing, crowing laugh resounded up and down.

               I blinked.

               It vanished.

               I sat up straight, flinging off my covers, my heart pounding.

               A Picture.

               Of a stage. With red curtains.

               And a laugh that still echoed through my mind.

           The next morning, I climbed out of bed, stretched, and pushed open the curtains to look down on the streets. Since it was Saturday, the traffic wasn’t as thick as during the week, and the noise had calmed. Though, in the Upper East Side of Manhattan, it was never as hectic as other places on the island.

Dad had initially come with me to pick out an apartment to start, and insisted on paying for it until I got a steady job that was good enough that I could pay for it myself. Neither of my parents wanted me living anywhere dangerous or seedy—and I hadn’t argued. I didn’t want to live anywhere dangerous or seedy, either.

After three days of searching, we’d come across an apartment building on 88th street, made of red brick, its front covered in tall, narrow windows and fire escapes. We’d investigated, and found an available apartment on the fourth floor. Dad said the rent was reasonable—for New York.

               The apartment was little, compared to my childhood home out in the country, of course. There was a short hallway connecting the bedroom and the sitting room, and in that hall they’d crammed the kitchen, which is just a stove and microwave with a tiny bit of counter space and some cupboards. My bedroom was a nice size, but I couldn’t bring my dark-wood dresser—I had to bring the white one from when I was little, because the big one wouldn’t fit. The bathroom was right next to the kitchen. I had a table in the sitting room, and a couch and a chair, and a TV set.

               I like light, floral print things, though not as garish as the style is these days. I’m partial to lace, so that’s my curtains. Roses on my comforter and pillows. Blue couch, rose pillows. I had a rug on my floor in the bedroom and the living room because this wood floor was freezing in the winter.

               I sighed, folding my arms and looking around at everything in my bedroom, feeling my heart sink.

I’d just gotten used to it here.

Forcing myself to stop thinking about it, I pulled off my pajamas and got dressed in jeans, boots, and a plaid tuck-in shirt. In the bathroom, I brushed out my straight, dark-brown hair and put half of it up in a ponytail, to keep it out of my face. I had long bangs, and decided I didn’t want to mess with curling them today.

I’m a slender person, average height, not very curvy. I have bright green eyes, and people say I look like my mom. She’s very pretty, with dark eyelashes and eyebrows, so I suppose I have a little of that beauty, too. At the time, I didn’t like wearing makeup—just a little lip color and mascara, so I put that on.

Tap, tap, tap.

I quickly screwed on the lid to my mascara, put it away, and hurried out through my bedroom, into the hall, across the sitting room to the front door. My cat Milo—a striped orange kitty—meowed loudly at me as I whooshed past him.

“I’ll feed you in a minute, just wait!” I called back at him. I threw the three locks on the door and pulled it open.

“Hi!” I said, finding a FedEx man standing there, smiling back at me.

“I’ve got a package here for Anne Maple,” he said, checking the thick envelope.

“That’s me,” I said.

“Okay, can you just sign here?” he asked, holding out a clipboard. I took the pen and signed my name on the line, then gave it back. He passed off the package to me. I could feel a thick stack of papers inside—and when I looked at the envelope, it confirmed what I’d suspected it was.

               “Thank you!” I told the delivery man.

               “Have a good day,” he answered, and left. I shut the door after him, and automatically flipped the deadbolt again. Grinning crookedly, I turned the envelope over, tore it open…

               And pulled out a typed script, spiral-bound. On the front page, it read:

 The Ripple Experiment

A Play in Two Acts

by

Aaron Highgate and Peter Wren

             “Raaawr!” my cat complained as he came and stood on my feet. I laughed out loud.

               “Okay, okay,” I said. “We’ll both get breakfast, and then I’ll make some tea and cuddle with you on the couch while I read this.”

             “Hey, Dad!”

               “Hey, sweetie!” Dad answered at the other end of the phone. “Did you get the script?”

               “I did, thanks,” I answered. “Just finished reading it.”

               I sat on my blue couch with my legs tucked under me, a patchwork quilt over my lap—and a purring cat keeping me warm. My cup of tea on the coffee table however, had gone cold. And the last page of the script lay open in front of me.

               “Well, what did you think of it?” Dad asked.

               “It’s really interesting!” I admitted. “The premise is kind of funny—a man from a hundred years in the future trying to fix the problems there by changing things that happen in the past, and that the problems the entire future world is facing actually all stem out from one house and one woman’s life!”

               “Haha, yeah, you wouldn’t want to see the statistics on that, probably,” Dad chuckled.

               “But the story convinces me,” I said, gesturing as I talked. “At least, it does if I understand half of Dr. Ripple’s techno-babble—the stuff that isn’t made-up, anyway.”

               Dad laughed out loud now.

               “I know, isn’t that great? I’d love to know how they came up with all of those technical-sounding nonsense words.”

               “Me too,” I said, scratching Milo on the back so his purring thundered. “This show could do well if it’s still running when that movie Back to the Future comes out this summer. And I like Wendy James. She’s sensible and down to earth and a scientist too, but she’s still fun, and pretty brave, and she can at least halfway keep up with Dr. Ripple when he’s trying all those ridiculous things.”

               “Mhm, I agree. A pretty nifty gal,” Dad said pointedly. I rolled my eyes, trying not to smile.

               “But, this um…” I flicked the edge of the last page, making a face. “This last part…”

               “What?” Dad asked.

               “The last scene!” I cried. “I mean, am I reading this right? It just says ‘Act Two, Scene 10: actors will improvise to achieve a conclusion.’ What is that about?”

               “Well, I suppose it means the ending will be different every night, depending upon what the actors feel like,” Dad guessed. “But you’ll have to ask them more about it at the audition.”

               “I’ve never done any improvisation before!” I protested. “I hate that! Like when somebody forgets a line and just stares at me, expecting me to save them from themselves and get the scene rolling again—that’s terrifying!”

               “It’s exciting,” Dad offered.  

               “Oh, how would you know?” I shot back.

               “Athletes do it all the time,” he said lightly. “They practice a certain set of skills, and then whoever they play throws different scenarios at them that they have to deal with, based on the set of skills they’ve already learned.”

               I groaned.

               “Look, just ask them more about it at the audition,” Dad suggested. “I’ve set it up for two o’clock tomorrow at the Quadrant Theatre.”                                                                                    

               “Wait—you set it up?” I sat up so fast that Milo tumbled off my lap. “I thought it was an open audition!”

               “No, they started with those, but couldn’t find anybody,” Dad said. “I called Aaron and arranged this for you so you can meet with him and the director, and with Aaron’s nephew, if he’s around.”

               “Oh, Dad…” I whispered, my heart hammering.

               “This is far better than a cattle call, honey,” Dad insisted. “They’ll get to hear you, and you’ll get to find out everything you want to know about the play, and the people in it, and whether or not it’s something you want to do. If it doesn’t work out, then sure, you can come home when your lease is up and work at the library. That’s fine. But don’t you want to just give this a shot and see what happens?”

               I hesitated, winding the phone cord around my forefinger again. I heaved a sigh.

               “Okay, okay,” I said. “I’ll give it a shot.”

               “Sounds good!” he said. “Be sure to call me after the audition—and Mom wants to hear about it, too!”

  Chapter Two

Sunday, April 7th

             I shut the door to the phonebooth behind me with a clatter, shoved the clanking money into the pay phone, picked up the receiver and dialed. I waited, tapping my feet while it rang, watching the traffic whizz by on the street outside the grimy glass.

               “James Tucker speaking, how can I help you?” came a brisk, male voice at the other end.

               “Hi, Jim!” I instantly broke into a smile at the sound of my boyfriend’s answer.  

               “Hi, Anne!” he answered cheerfully. “How are you, what’s going on?”

               “Is it okay to talk for a second?” I asked.

               “Sure, I was just taking a break in the middle of typing this editorial. What are you doing?”

               “Oh, I’m…I’m standing about a block away from the theatre and decided to call you,” I said, folding my free arm around myself and shifting my weight.

               “The theatre where you have that audition?”

               “Yeah, for the play I told you about yesterday,” I answered. “The one about the time-traveler.”

               “What time is the audition?” he asked. I looked down at my watch and winced.

               “In about five minutes.”

               “Won’t you be late?”

               I heaved a sigh.

               “That’s why I wanted to call you,” I confessed. “I’m getting cold feet.”

               “Well…I can understand that,” he said.

               I blinked.

               “You can?”

               “Sure,” he said. “You’re afraid that if you do this, it might be a waste of your time, but you will have tied yourself down. And you might miss a really great opportunity to work in your field.”

               My heart sank.

               “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”

               “You’re such a brilliant therapist, Anne,” he said gently. “I’ve seen you work. Are you sure there are no schools around there that need a speech councilor?”

               “Only scary ones,” I muttered.

               “Well, you can always come across to Jersey where I am,” he coaxed. “I’ve been keeping my eyes open for something for you. And the rent is a little cheaper here. Or, you could move home with your folks and save money till you land the kind of job you want.”

               “Yeah, I know,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “Dad and I talked about that second option.”

               His sigh came as a hiss of static in my ear.

               “I know your Dad’s excited about this play and everything…I just don’t want you to miss something, Anne. I have this really strong feeling that, really soon, you’ll have a serious chance to truly help somebody who desperately needs it. I mean, you could get a call back tomorrow from any number of the schools where you’ve applied—but if you commit to this play, you won’t be able to accept any of them. And how long could this show last, anyway?”

               “I don’t know. I really don’t,” I shook my head. “Depends on if it’s successful.”

               “Or if it even gets off the ground,” Jim added. “And besides—”

               I didn’t hear the rest of what he said.

               Right in the middle of his sentence, that Picture came. Again.

The same one from the other morning: me, on a black stage, open curtains—and that laugh.

               It overpowered me, blanking out all my vision. And the tenor of that disembodied laugh shot a thrill down my spine.

               And then it disappeared.

               “Sorry, Jim, I have to go,” I muttered absently, my eyes fixed on the glass in front of me. “Dad set this up and it’d look really bad for him if I don’t show up.” And without waiting for a reply, I hung up the phone, pushed out of the booth…

               Cold wind hit my face.

               I sucked in a breath and shook myself, almost feeling like I’d just woken up.

               I stood on a dirty sidewalk, grey clouds looming over the skyscrapers. The traffic howled all around, people passed me, their shoes clattering on the pavement. I lifted my eyes and looked at the small brick theatre just ahead of me, its blank marquee sticking out over the sidewalk. Above that, a neon sign, unlit, read: The Quadrant Theatre.

               My heart hammered again.

This morning, I’d put on black dress slacks, heels, a red silk blouse and black jacket over that, and tied my hair up in a ponytail. I desperately hoped I looked professional, but not too uptight.

               And I hoped I could get this over with as quickly as possible.

               Setting my teeth and taking a deep breath, I headed for the theatre door.

C

                                 I pushed through the one front door of the theatre that I found open, made my way through the silent, red-carpeted lobby, and leaned cautiously through the open door to the hall.

               It wasn’t large—could maybe hold three-hundred people on the lower floor, and a small balcony hung above. It smelled dusty, and the house lights were dimmed low. On past the rows of seats, down a gentle slope, the stage itself stood in lights, with red curtains pushed off to either side.

               I swallowed.

               Two men sat on chairs center stage, and an empty, funky-patterned couch stood near them, stage left. One man was thin with faded red hair, wearing black dress pants and a white collared shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He had a serious, angular face and a penetrating look. He had a booklet on his knee, and gestured delicately with a pencil between his fingers as he talked to the other man. I recognized him—and suddenly remembered the calm, regulated lilt of his upper-class English accent.

               The other man was fat, with a round face, and his chortling laughter echoed out into the hall toward me. He had greying, combed hair and little eyes, and wore a grey suit and vest, with no tie.

               Bracing myself, I started down the aisle, my feet silent on the thin carpet. Then, all of a sudden, they saw me.

               “Miss Maple?” the fat one called, his voice booming out. He sat forward and shielded his eyes from the lights. “Is that you?”

               “Yes, it’s me,” I called back. “How do I get up there?”

               “See, there’s a door off to the side, there, house left,” he pointed. “Take the set of stairs up and turn right, you’ll come out on the stage.”

               “Okay, thanks,” I managed, waving. I headed to my left, pushed through the curtains—tried not to fall down in the dark—and turned toward the bright light coming from between the hanging stage curtains. Finally, I emerged out there with them, the lights flashing in my right eye.

               They both turned to smile at me, and the thin man stood up and nodded.

               “How do you do, Miss Maple?” he asked. “Do you remember me?”

               “I do!” I said, taking his proffered hand. “You’re my dad’s friend, Aaron Highgate—I think we met at a football game once.”

               He smiled broadly, now, and it did wonders for his appearance.

               “Yes, I remember that,” he said, then waved to the other man. “This is my friend, and The Ripple Experiment’s director, Mr. Sam Everhart.”

               “Forgive me for not standing up,” Mr. Everhart chuckled, extending his hand. “I just had knee surgery.”

               “Oh, then don’t get up,” I said quickly, leaning in to shake his hand.

               “Will you please sit down?” Aaron asked, indicating the empty couch.

               “Yes, thank you,” I said, maneuvering around and then easing down on the couch in front of them, clutching my purse in my lap and trying to keep my hands from shaking. Both men rested their gazes on me, and I could practically feel them thinking.

               “I seem to remember you participated in theatre in high school and college?” Aaron prompted, crossing his legs and gracefully letting his hands rest on the note pad.

               “Yes,” I answered quickly. “In high school I played Alice Sycamore in You Can’t Take it With You, um…I was Laurey in Oklahoma!, and Titania in Midsummer Night’s Dream. In college we did a lot of Shakespeare, which I loved—so I played Beatrice in Much Ado About Nothing, Cordelia in King Lear, and Lady MacBeth in Mac—” I instantly stopped myself with a nervous giggle. “I mean, The Scottish Play.”

               This made the men across from me laugh, and something in my chest loosened a little.

               “And you won a few awards?” Mr. Everhart asked.

               “Yes, for playing Alice, Laurey and Lady MacBeth.”

               “And that success made you want to pursue acting?” Aaron wondered.

               “Um…Well, no,” I confessed, feeling my face get hot. “I actually got my degree in speech therapy. I want to help people with speech and reading impediments like stammering, lisping, dyslexia, things like that.”

               “A noble cause,” Aaron mused. He raised his eyebrows. “But you’ve had no luck so far getting a job in that field?”

               “No, not yet,” I sighed, trying to smile. “It’s tough, in the city!”

               “Yes, it is,” Mr. Everhart agreed, exchanging a look with Aaron. “But you’re willing to try this, instead?”

               “Well, yes—if it’s agreeable to everyone. Including me,” I said, feeling my face get hotter, but saying it anyway. “I’d want to make sure it would be worthwhile, and that the people involved are good to work with.”

               “That sounds wise,” Aaron said, suppressing a smile. “Have you had a chance to read the script?”

               “Yes, I read it yesterday,” I replied quickly.

               “What did you think of it?” Mr. Everhart asked. “Can you summarize it for us, give us your impressions?”

               “Well…” My brow furrowed and my fingers curled on the top of my purse. “It’s about a sort of a mad, but endearing, scientist who comes back in time a hundred years on an experiment. About half of earth’s population in the future where he comes from is robots, and the other half lives in a very sterile, dark environment. And he thinks that’s wrong, and something’s gone wrong. He’s trying to figure out if something can be changed in the past that will change the future—he’s narrowed it down to this particular house at this exact time. He does various science and social experiments while he’s living in the present—some of which are pretty funny—in an effort to impact the future the way he wants. And, um…” I shifted in my seat. “The last scene is always completely improvised.”

               “Do you know why it’s improvised?” Aaron asked, watching me carefully.

               “Well…I’ve been considering that,” I admitted. “I think…I think it leaves the entire play up to different interpretations, and a chance for it to evolve and take on a life of its own.”

               “All right, keep going,” Mr. Everhart urged, leaning forward. I shifted again.

               “Well…” I said again. “The scientist’s focus is all on global—or at least national—events, but almost accidentally, he does things to change the life of the woman living in this house, and that could ultimately be what makes a difference in the future. Small things, like fixing a leak or throwing away a faulty toaster, to saving her from a bus, discouraging a bad relationship, protecting her from a creepy neighbor. And it could be any of those things. It’s why it’s called The Ripple Experiment. One, it’s his name; two, he is causing a ‘ripple’ effect; and three, those ripples impact everything else that comes after them. Because, in the scene before the last, he goes into his time machine again, and the last scene is the result of whatever discovery he decides to make about the future. Nothing changed, something changed, or everything changed—he can literally pull from any scene in the show.”

               The two men smiled at each other.

               “Yes, the people playing Dr. Ripple and Wendy would pull it from any scene in the show,” Aaron reminded me.

               “That’s…actually what scares me,” I said, feeling my cheeks burning, now. They both frowned at me.

               “Scares you?” Mr. Everhart repeated.

               “Mhm,” I said, gripping my purse. “I never did any improv. Everything was very memorized, very blocked out. And I mean—well, a lot of it was Shakespeare! You don’t improvise Shakespeare!”

               “No, you don’t,” Mr. Everhart chuckled.

               “And…you don’t think you can do that part of it?” Aaron pressed.

               “I honestly don’t know,” I said. “I really don’t.”

               “Do you think you might try?” Mr. Everhart peered at me. I bit my lip.

               “She should!”

               I nearly hit the ceiling when a bright, young male voice shot through the silence behind me.

The next second, someone leaped over the back of the couch and landed sitting right next to me. My breath caught and I gaped at him.

               He looked about my age, maybe a couple years older. He wore a short sleeved maroon polo shirt with the top buttons undone, baggy khaki slacks, and yellow socks. No shoes.  

               He had a bright, clever face, with a smattering of freckles across his nose; dark, expressive eyebrows and long lashes, and an impish smile. His features might be oddly handsome if he allowed a cloud of seriousness to pass over them. Actually, he probably could be dashing at the right angle. But right now, his vivid blue eyes—like lightning—lit his whole being with an almost wild brilliance. He had brown, reckless curls that caught the stage lights, and, as if in complement, the lights illuminated them in a flame-red halo. In a ridiculous instant of memory—though the next instant, it didn’t seem so ridiculous—I remembered Shakespeare’s description of Puck in Midsummer Night’s Dream: the “shrewd and knavish sprite,” “that merry wanderer of the night.”

               “Um—hi!” I giggled breathlessly.

               “Hi, don’t mind me, I just dropped in,” the stranger beamed, sticking out his right hand. Cautiously, I took it—and he suddenly brought mine up and kissed it.

“Enchanté!” he said crisply.

“Ha!” I laughed, shocked.

“Miss Maple, this is my nephew, Peter Wren. He’s playing Dr. Edward Ripple.” Mr. Everhart motioned to him. “Peter, this is—”

“Anne Maple, yes, I know, I’ve been listening the whole time,” he said, turning toward me eagerly, fixing me with those sky-bright eyes. “Are you going to do the show?”

I suddenly sensed Aaron and Mr. Everhart go completely still.

               “Well, I’d…I’d like to,” I stammered—surprising myself. “I was just telling them about how I don’t know how to improv.”

               “Oh, shoot, it isn’t that hard,” Peter waved it off. “You’re improv-ing right now, aren’t you?”

               “Ha, well…” I rolled my eyes. “I guess so?”

               “You can walk, talk and chew gum at the same time?” he pressed narrowly.

               “Um—well, sure—”

               “You’re not deaf, blind, have a third eye somewhere?”

               I burst out laughing.

Peter’s eyes suddenly twinkled with an almost fiendish light.

               “Yep,” he said. “I like her.” And with that, he leaned over, kissed my cheek—

               Shot up, headed around the couch toward stage left, ramming his hands in his pockets and whistling “Everything’s Up to Date in Kansas City.”  

               Baffled, I twisted in my seat to watch him stride toward backstage like he was strolling through the park. The shadows of the curtains swallowed him.

               “I hope this means you have your part memorized, Peter,” Aaron called after him, arcing an eyebrow.

               And Peter laughed.

               That ringing, thrilling, innocently-delighted sound straight from my Picture.

               My lips parted, and I couldn’t speak.

               “Well, Miss Maple, if we could,” Mr. Everhart called me back—and I had to struggle to turn around and face him.

               “Could we hear you read a little bit?” Mr. Everhart finished. “Aaron can read Dr. Ripple for you.”

               “Oh! Okay, sure,” I nodded, taking the script they handed me.

               “Why don’t we start with act two, scene two?” Aaron asked, pulling reading glasses out of his breast pocket and slipping them on.

               “Okay,” I said again, flipping to that page.

               We started the read, and I did my very best. The written dialogue was lively and natural, and of course I’d read it already, so it wasn’t all that difficult once my fingers stopped trembling.

But all the while, though I never turned to look, I kept wondering if Peter Wren was watching us from the wings.

 Chapter Three

Wednesday, April 10th

             I bounced up and out of the subway and emerged in front of the dark, solemn, jagged edifice of Trinity Church. I immediately opened my umbrella, humming to myself, hardly noticing the rain pounding on the top of the canvas.

               The crowds all around me ducked and hurried through the downpour, and the hundreds of noisy cars and cabs splashed through the puddles in the street.

               I dashed across Broadway, hopping over the flowing puddles in the gutter, and headed into the narrow canyon of Broad Street. The traffic roar echoed here, and the shadows of the buildings made it even dimmer. I whistled to myself, forcibly calming my urge to start skipping.

               I came to where the Stock Exchange and Federal Hall stood cattycorner to each other, and grinned up at the serene, noble statue of George Washington towering atop the stairs of Federal Hall, his head and broad shoulders shining with water.

               “Hullo, sir!” I said to him. “Sorry I don’t have an extra umbrella!” I giggled at myself, and turned right down Wall Street.

               I followed Wall Street, down three long blocks, smiling at the historic buildings, until I spotted my favorite place to eat in the whole world: Fraunces Tavern.

               It’s the place George Washington said goodbye to his troops at the end of the Revolutionary War, so you can imagine what it looks like: Georgian architecture, only three-and-a-half stories, light-red brick with decorative stonework around all the edges. On its front face, it has exactly fourteen tall, small-paned windows bordered in white.  It has a street-side chimney, and an inset door with pillars right in the front, and another door and a lot more windows on that side. There are also cute windows to the attic room, and a wooden railing all around the top of the square roof. It is one of several Revolutionary-era buildings in this block that have been preserved for their historical significance, and the skyscrapers loom around them like giants. The little buildings are so utterly out of place—and yet, they seem to be part of the very ground itself. Impervious to the ever-changing tumult of the city all around them. As if to say, in the most dignified and unruffled tone: “We were here first; you uppity youngsters maintain your distance.” So whenever I walk up to Fraunces, at any time of year, I feel like I’m stepping back in time.

               I hopped up the stairs, folded my umbrella and shook it out, then pushed through the front door. I was instantly surrounded by old wood walls and floors, and the clatter and clamor of the pub through the door to my left. I turned right and ducked through another door into a tiny front hallway, at the far end of which waited a narrow white staircase that lead up to the George Washington-themed museum above. I smiled at the waitress who stood behind the podium.

               “I think my dad and boyfriend are already here.”

               “All right, go on ahead, then!” the dark-haired girl said in a lovely Irish accent, and motioned me through. I passed through a wider door, down a couple steps, and into the long dining room.

               Broad wood floors, and a row of large street-facing windows in the far wall, with lamps standing in the sills. Long, tavern-style tables and high backed benches marched down the length of the space, all filled with New Yorkers eating and drinking and talking. At the far left stood a fireplace, with an antique map hanging above the hearth. In the far corner of the room stood a round table, and I spotted my dad and Jim sitting there. They sat up and waved at me—I grinned and waved back, and headed across to them.

               My dad is about six feet tall, enjoys wearing tweed suits and driving caps, and always has a smile ready for me. He’s clean-shaven, mostly bald, but he had dark hair when he was younger. He has dark, mischievous eyes—he’s very creative. A good artist, and also has an eye for classic cars. He loves driving a rumbling 1930’s roadster down the country lanes around our house. He’s one of the co-owners of an oil company my grandpa started.

               Jim Tucker looks exactly the opposite of my dad. He’s six-three, muscular, blond hair, likes wearing stylish business suits—and somehow makes them look comfortable. He’s extremely handsome, I think. Brown eyes, dimples, a great laugh. His smile makes me go weak. He has long lashes and a boyish aspect that can change to solemn and rugged if he just lets his beard grow a few days.

As soon as I came up to the table, Jim stood up and pulled out my chair for me.    

“Hello, sweetheart,” he said, and kissed my cheek.

               “Hi, everybody!” I said breathlessly, taking off my coat as I sat down, and draping it over the back of my chair.

               “Hi, honey!” Dad greeted me. “Did you get wet?”

               “Oh, only a little. Not bad,” I said, setting my umbrella under my chair. “It’s really pouring!”

               “Yes, it is—the grass in Central Park will be happy to get it,” Jim noted as he sat back down.

               “We ordered you a hot tea,” Dad told me.

               “Oh, thank you,” I said, shaking out my hands. “I need that today. My fingers are frozen!”

               “Okay, so—what did you want to tell us?” Jim asked, pinning me with his dark gaze and folding his hands on the table. “I’m too curious to wait any more. Your dad is too!”

               I couldn’t suppress my smile any more.

               “Welllll…” I said, canting my head and sliding my napkin.

               “Hey, I knew it,” Jim said, a delighted grin spreading across his face. “You got a call back from one of the private schools. They want to hire you?”

               My eyes flashed up to his, and I suddenly frowned. My smiled failed me.

               “I…Well, no.”

               My dad raised his eyebrows, and gave me an entirely different—playful—look.

               “You got the part.”

               I let out a nervous laugh, turning to him—but his eyes sparkled at me.

               “Yeah,” I nodded. “Yeah…I got the part!”

               “That’s amazing, sweetheart!” he cried, grabbing my wrist and shaking it back and forth. “Congratulations!”

               I relaxed into another laugh, and it felt better this time.

               “Really?” Jim said, his smile gone now. “They picked you? Even though you’ve never had any professional experience?”

               “Well, I…” I looked at him for a second, then tried to gather my thoughts. “I went in and sat with Aaron and the director, Mr. Everhart, and we talked about the show, and its themes, and its potential to evolve and grow over several performances…and then Aaron’s nephew, Peter Wren, just sort of…popped in from nowhere.” I chuckled remembering it. “He just hopped over the couch and plopped down right next to me! He’s playing the scientist,” I said to Jim.

               “Yeah, Frank told me,” Jim nodded to my dad.

               “What was he like?” Dad asked, watching me.

               “Well, he…” I frowned, then laughed. “He’s hard to describe! Kind of��wild or something. Really enthusiastic, silly, just jumping in and out when he feels like it. He asked me a bunch of ridiculous questions and then just left!”

               “Mhm,” Dad murmured, glancing down at his folded hands. My attention sharpened.

               “What?” I asked. “What is it?”

               “Well,” he took a deep breath. “Aaron’s talked about him before to me. He had to raise him after Peter’s mother left, and Aaron had some trouble with him. But,” Dad looked at me. “He also said Peter’s a heck of an actor. A genius of both dramatic and comedic timing. And I’m sure this show will sink or swim because of whatever Peter decides to do with it.” Dad chuckled. “I think you’re in for a ride!”

               “So—this guy is kind of unpredictable?” Jim asked him. “Or…unreliable?”

               “Aaron didn’t go into much detail,” Dad shook his head. “He did tell me that he’s classically trained. So he must have finished college.”

               “How long has one of Aaron Highgate’s shows ever run?” Jim pressed.

               “Hmm, well, one of his ran for three years,” Dad replied. “But that was a few years ago. His most recent show only lasted six months. But he wrote the others on his own,” he held up a finger. “This is the first one that Peter has helped with.”

               “Six months, though, that’s not too long,” Jim said, brightening up. “That’s what, about here to the end of the summer?” He looked at me. “So while you’re doing this play, you can keep applying to schools and then step into a job around September!”

               “Yeah,” I made myself smile, suddenly off balance. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

               “Well, I hope it runs for a while longer,” Dad countered. “Since I’m sure all of you will be putting a great deal of time and effort into it. When do you start rehearsal?”

               “Oh, tomorrow,” I answered, shaking myself. “We’ll rehearse all the rest of this month and then open Friday, May tenth.” I pointed at him and Jim with narrow eyes. “Everyone is coming to opening night.”

               “Yes, Mom and Grandma and Lily and Janie will all be there, I guarantee it. I’ll call Aaron and have him reserve us some good seats,” Dad assured me.

               “And I’ll bring my mom and sister,” Jim smiled, reaching around to take my hand. “This could be fun. You’ll be great.”

               Warmth spread through me at his touch, and that sinking feeling dissipated. But before I could say anything more, the waitress came, and I was forced to decide between at least a dozen delicious hot teas.    

 Chapter Four

Thursday, April 11th

              Thursday morning, I saw a Picture of a man’s hand grabbing mine, and pulling me forward. From the look of it, it belonged to a young man, wearing long, fitted red sleeves. I lay there in bed for a long time after I saw it, turning it over and over in my mind. Then, finally, I got up, showered, got dressed in a white blouse and tweed jacket with a broomstick skirt and high boots, fed Milo, snatched up the copy of the script my dad had sent me, and headed out the door.

As soon as I hit the street, I took a deep breath of the cool air. The morning was crisp and bright, and I could tell that the sun’s position in the sky had shifted. Its light glinted differently against the windows, and filled the canyons between the buildings at a changed angle. It wasn’t winter anymore.

               As I rode the subway, the metallic whizzing of the train’s speed surrounding me as it gently rocked side to side, I sat near the rail by the door and read over the script for the fourth time since getting it in the mail. I tried to imagine the blocking, the arrangement of the set, and how I ought to say each one of my lines. But every time the realization hit me that I was actually doing this, a weird wave of excited nausea passed through my whole body.

               At last, the subway lurched to a stop, and I gathered up my things and bustled out with ten thousand of my closest friends, the roar of the trains and the foot-traffic of hundreds of people ricocheting off the cement walls. Ducking my head and concentrating on where to put my feet, I worked my way up the stairs and into the daylight again.

               I emerged just a couple of short blocks from the theatre, so I walked briskly, maneuvering through the crowds of people, the noise of the traffic and car horns sending a never-ending echo up and down the walls of looming buildings.

New York has a particular smell—a mix of stinky scents like exhaust and garbage; and good scents like cooking food, and gusts of sea air. The city hums with activity, never letting your mind rest whilst you’re walking, lest you run into a light pole, a stack of garbage bags, or a person.

Finally, I spotted the sign for the Quadrant Theatre, smiled weakly, fought back the shivers, and pushed through the front door. It squeaked.

               I maneuvered through the silent lobby, as I had before, and entered the theatre. House lights were up this time, and the stage was fully lit. Chairs sat in a circle on the stage, all occupied except for two. I immediately spotted Aaron and Mr. Everhart sitting next to each other, scripts and pencils in their laps. Aaron wore a white dress shirt and black slacks and shoes, with the top buttons of his shirt undone. Mr. Everhart wore a black suit and red tie. Then, as I cautiously and silently made my way forward, I studied the other three in the circle.

               Next to Mr. Everhart sat a middle-aged woman with beautifully quaffed, rather large blonde hair, wearing a flowing white blouse and vibrant blue skirt, and white high heels. She had large eyes, a pretty, distinguished face, and she smiled as she talked to the director. She had a script in her lap, too. Beside her sat a thin, slightly-balding middle-aged man with big, watery eyes and a weak chin, wearing a grey suit and blue tie.

Next to him sat a tall, extremely good-looking young man with neatly-combed black hair, wearing a collared shirt with a blue sweater over it, jeans and sturdy boots. He instantly struck me as looking very like Christopher Reeve’s Superman. The five people talked quietly and easily to each other. All of them calm, confident. As if they belonged there.

I slowed to a halt, feeling my blood turn cold. I took half a step back.

               “She’s here!”

               A shout like a rooster crowing. It shot through the theatre, jerking my attention house right—

               Where Peter Wren had appeared on stage as if by magic. He stood in those baggy khakis again, with a long-sleeved, fitted red shirt, and white tennis shoes. I could see the vibrancy of his eyes even from where I stood, and his hair looked windblown, like he’d just come in to land.

               He trotted across the stage and then leaped off, hitting the carpet like a cat and then bounding up the aisle and right up to me. Funny—I suddenly realized that he could only be an inch or two taller than me. I almost looked directly into his eyes.

               “Hi, how are you?” he asked, beaming at me.

               “I’m good, how are you?” I managed to answer.

               “Fantastic, now that you’re here,” he said. “We were sure your subway had crashed or something like that.”

               I laughed and shook my head.

               “Nope, everything’s okay. I…” I stopped. “Wait, am I late?”

               “No, not at all, Anne,” Aaron interjected from up on stage.

               “Yes you are, I was here at seven this morning,” Peter countered.

My mouth fell open.

               “I—Was I supposed to be here at seven?”

               “Hey, don’t worry about it, hon,” Peter winked at me. “That’s just me—I couldn’t sleep, I was too excited.” Then, he reached out and grabbed my left hand, and tugged on me.

               Gasping—having an instant flashback to my Picture—I managed to keep myself from tripping as I followed his eager pace toward the stage. As if in reflex, he interlaced our fingers and squeezed, and pulled me through the curtains at the stage door. We swerved, hopped up the stairs, and burst out onto the stage as if we were coming out for an encore.

               “Everybody, this is Anne Maple, playing Wendy James,” Peter announced, waving to me with his free hand.

               “Hi!” they all said, their expressions open and agreeable.  

               “Uncle Aaron and Mr. Everhart you know already,” Peter said. “This stunning and vivacious beauty is Nancy Bennet, playing Janet James, your mother.”

               “Hi, sweetheart!” Nancy, the lovely blonde woman, waved at me.

               “Hello!” I gestured back at her with my script. Peter swung my hand back and forth once, then pointed to the man next to Nancy.

               “This diamond in the rough is Walter Emmet, playing your neighbor, Allen.”

               “Howdy,” Walter grinned at me, and gave me a lazy salute, then shifted back and forth in his seat as if pleased with himself. I tried not to laugh, and nodded to him.

               “Good morning.”

               “And this handsome and dashing young man,” Peter said grandly. “Is Stephen Tell, playing your truly-fickle true love, Eric Schultz.”

               “Haha, how do you do?” Stephen chuckled, standing up and sticking his hand out to me. Peter let go of me so I could shift my script to my left hand and shake Stephen’s. As Stephen took my hand and gave me a warm smile, I saw the flash of a wedding ring on his left hand.

               “You’re married, Stephen?” I asked him as he sat back down.

               “Yes, two little girls, too,” he chuckled. “They’re a handful!”

               “Here,” Peter said, drawing a chair into place for me.

               “Thank you,” I smiled at him, and sat down. He sat down immediately on my left, set his right ankle on his left knee, and folded his hands. He didn’t have a script.

               “All right!” Aaron said in a bright—but still measured—tone, looking round at all of us. “Welcome to the premiere production of The Ripple Experiment. Of course, this is a small cast, so I anticipate that we and the crew will become rather like family as the show goes on. Mr. Everhart wanted to conduct a quick read-through of the first act today, and discuss any thoughts on character and so forth. So, sir, take it away.”

               Mr. Everhart cleared his throat.

               “Good morning, everyone! I should also make you aware that our producer, Mr. Gregory Flintheiman, is up in the balcony today, just listening.”

               I couldn’t stop myself—I instantly looked up to my right to search…

               Through the nearly-opaque glare of the stage lights, I glimpsed a large, shadowy figure sitting in the center of the balcony, all alone.

               I froze. Chills crawled down my spine.

               That moment, I felt a light nudge on my arm, and turned to the left to see Peter give me a quiet smile, another wink, and then shake his head. My chills dissipated.

               “So, erm…Let’s start with the first scene, then,” Mr. Everhart cut into my thoughts, and I mentally came back to the stage. I flipped open my script, hearing everyone but Peter do the same.

               “So, we’ve just got Wendy center stage, in front of the curtain, in the main spotlight,” Mr. Everhart went on. “Take it away, Anne.”

               That sickly-nervous sensation swept through my whole body again. It gripped my gut, sending a freakish pain into my chest. My throat locked, and my heart bashed against my ribs. I glanced up. Everyone was looking down at his or her script…

Except I could sense Peter watching me. And his gaze felt warm against my side, like summer sunshine.

I took a deep breath, clutched my hands together in my lap, stared down at the page, and read out loud.

“‘I lead a little life,’” I began. “‘I’m alone in a big, Victorian house that I restored myself; I work, I cook, I garden, I study for my master’s degree in plant biology. I keep to routine. I’m friendly enough with my neighbors, but I keep mostly to myself. Which isn’t particularly unique, I’m sure lots of people lead similar if not identical lives to my own. And I’m content with that. I’ve never had any desire to have my name splashed across newspapers or written in flashing in lights. And yet, sometimes late at night, when I can’t sleep, I wonder…Do the small, everyday actions and decisions of any of us make a difference to the future? Will our small town election for mayor affect the face of our city a hundred years from now? Will what we drive, what we eat, what we plant, how we treat people, prove to be any more important than a billboard you pass on the highway? Don’t we all think to ourselves: will my life, even if it is little, pass by without making any sort of splash? Will I always just live within routine, touching many people, but none of them deeply? Will anyone remember me after I’m gone? And in the end, long after I’ve vanished from the earth…will it even matter that once, Wendy James lived?’”

“Very good. Moving on,” Mr. Everhart said—and I accidentally let out a shaking sigh. I caught Peter shooting me a brief, twinkling look. My face got hot, and I tried not to smile.

“Now, we’re in Wendy’s front sitting room,” Everhart said over the noise of pages flipping. “And it’s she and her mother having tea or coffee or whatever while her mother is visiting.”

“Ahem,” Nancy sat up and adjusted the way she held her script. “‘I love what you’ve done with the wallpaper, darling.’”

“‘Thanks, Mom,’” I read, keeping up with her. “‘It’s almost exactly like the original pattern from 1910. It took me ages to find it.’”

“‘This house has really been an investment for you!’” Nancy kept going, sounding supremely natural. “‘It doesn’t look anything like it did when we first bought it. It was really a fixer-upper.’”

“‘Yes, it’s taken what, five years?’” I continued. “‘And now I’ve finally got it the way I want it.’”

“‘And so now you’re ready to sell it?’”

I felt Nancy glance up at me. Mustering my own confidence, I met her blue eyes and gave her an indignant look before going on with my next line.

“‘Sell it? Mom, I just spent all that time and money making it exactly the way I always dreamed—why would I turn around and sell it now?’”

“‘Because that’s what I thought the plan was, honey!’” Nancy replied, her voice and expression inviting me to engage, to ramp up the emotion beyond a simple read-through.

I took the bait.

“‘What plan?’”

“‘When Dad and I bought it for you and you paid us back—you said you were going to fix it up—’”

“‘I think you might be confusing what I said with what Eric said,’” I skillfully interrupted—not cutting off her line, but leaving no space between. “‘He said it might be a good idea to flip the house, to make some money—’”

“‘—so that the two of you would have money to get married,’” Nancy interrupted me this time, just as deftly.

“‘Well, there’s no need to worry about money now that he’s gotten his own practice,’” I went on, swiftly turning the page. “‘But you’re getting ahead of yourself.’”

“‘In what way?’” Nancy demanded.

“‘Well,’” I said, adding in my own frustrated noise. “‘For one thing, Eric hasn’t even proposed to me! First he was eyeball-deep in his residency and I hardly ever saw him, and now he’s only just bought this practice and gotten it going. We haven’t had time to talk about anything like that.’”

“‘You have time now,’” Nancy insisted. “‘And wouldn’t you much rather get married and live in his house? It’s in a much nicer part of town, there’s a pool, a back garden, it’s right by the country club. It’s just divine.’”

“‘Well, I think this house is divine,’” I answered, with purposeful quietness. “‘I’m sorry you don’t like it.’”

“‘Now, honey, I didn’t say that,’” Nancy said, masterfully gentling her voice so that she almost sounded like my real mother.

“Very good,” Mr. Everhart concluded, and I lifted my head to attend to him.

“Any questions about their relationship?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, halfway lifting my hand. “How long has Wendy’s father been dead?”

“Five years,” Peter suddenly answered. I swung around to look at him…

To see him smiling simply—but with a ghostly sadness in his eyes that vanished faster than I could be sure of it.

“Yes, he died of cancer,” Aaron added with a sigh. “Lung cancer, if you need to know. Smoked all his life.”

“Okay, thank you,” I said quietly.

“I assume Janet James has been accustomed all her married life to being comfortable?” Nancy asked, gesturing. “Money-wise, I mean.”

“Yes, she was actually wealthy growing up, and she and her husband had quite a bit of money,” Mr. Everhart explained. “She enjoys luxury and a fast pace.”

“Which sets her and her daughter at odds,” Nancy noted. “Because Wendy likes simple, quiet, old-fashioned, maybe rather eccentric things.”

“Uh, oh, I think I was typecast,” I muttered, though loud enough for everyone to hear. They all chuckled—and Peter laughed aloud.

“She also might be worried that her own life has stopped right in its prime,” Nancy added. “Which is why she’s trying to live vicariously through Wendy—pushing her to marry the handsome doctor, move up in the world, give Janet grandkids so she’ll feel like she has a purpose again.”

“That makes sense,” I agreed. Nancy smiled at me.

“Okay, let’s have Stephen come in as the boyfriend, Eric,” Mr. Everhart said, sticking his pencil behind his ear.

“Okay, sure,” Stephen said, clearing his throat and moving his script. “Looks like you start me off, Anne, after the doorbell sound.”

“Yeah, sure,” I said, then started reading again. “‘I’ll get the door…Hi, Eric!’”

“‘Hello, sweetie, how are you?’” Stephen answered, his deep voice inviting and engaging. “‘Is your mom here too? I think I saw her car.’”

“‘Yes, she and I were just having a drink in the living room. Come in and sit down!’” I read.

“‘Hello, Mrs. James.’”

“‘Hello, Eric dear. How was work today?’”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Peter start bouncing his knee, and glance off. I tried to stay focused.

“‘Just fine, just fine. Very exciting, taking a lot of new patients.’”

Absently, I scanned down the page, realizing my character didn’t say much for another page—it was just small talk between Eric and Mrs. James. I managed to relax a bit. But Peter’s leg bounced more rapidly.

Finally, Stephen said my cue line.

Peter’s knee went still.

“‘I know it keeps Annie happy, but I’d go stir-crazy in this old house. The TV doesn’t even work!’”

“‘You know I have more than a thousand books here, Eric,’” I cut in. “‘And a garden, and a sewing room, and a radio, and a record player. I’m not bored.’”

“‘Oh, I know you’re not, honey—that’s one of the things I like about you,’” Stephen read. “‘Because it means that you’d never be bored anywhere. You can adapt to anyplace, and find something you like about it.’”

“‘Maybe,’” I said—playing that line with considerable doubt.

“Doorbell noise,” Mr. Everhart announced.

“‘I’ll get it,’” I said again. “‘Oh! Hi! Can I help you?’”

“Oops, that’s me, let me turn the page real fast,” Walter sat up straight, then nervously flipped the page of his script. “Sorry. Okay. Erm…‘Hi, I’m Allen. Next door.’”

“‘Next door?’” I read. “‘Which next door?’”

“‘Um. There,’” Walter said, changing his tone to a nasal, tremulous, unnervingly-not-okay tenor. “‘Red house, blue trim. South.’”

“‘Oh! Mrs. Nelson’s old house?’”

“‘Don’t remember,’” Walter read, twitching his shoulders. “‘Mine now. Thought I’d come say hi.’” And he suddenly looked up and gave me a gawkishly-inappropriate, toothy grin with widened eyes—and I burst out laughing.

The rest of the cast loudly echoed it, especially Peter. Trying to stifle myself, I kept reading.

“‘Well, it’s nice to meet you.’”

“‘Can I come in?’” Walter’s nasally voice sounded more like a rat this time.

“‘Um, I have company over…’”

“‘Pretty carpet. Looks like tofu.’”

We read on through some awkwardly-humorous lines involving all of us except Peter, and I kept giggling because Walter did read his lines so well that I knew—after we’d gotten over our fits of laughter—he could really play this part in a downright-creepy way, so that the audience would instantly feel unsettled. Peter—no help at all to my composure—kept muttering commentary under his breath. I had to fight not to listen, or I would have hyperventilated and stopped functioning.  

Finally, Walter’s character Allen departed.

“‘I don’t know if I’m okay with this,’” I read, swiping tears out of my eyes and calming back down so I could act again.

“‘Okay with what?’” Nancy as Janet asked.

“‘With him as my neighbor!’” I waved in the air. “‘I don’t like that vibe—he’s not all right in the head.’”

“‘Anne—aren’t you being a little judgmental?’” Stephen as Eric accused. “‘He’s just shy and a little socially awkward. Just because someone isn’t eloquent doesn’t mean they’re inferior.’”

“‘I didn’t say he was inferior, I meant that he makes me nervous!’”

“‘Implying he’s some sort of psychopath, then?’” Nancy asked.

“‘I don’t know, Mom, you saw him, too!’”

               “‘Well, I didn’t see that,’” Nancy said coolly. “‘I thought it was nice of him to come over and introduce himself. And don’t you trust Eric’s professional judgment?’”

               “‘I, well…Yeah. Yes, I do,’” I read the line with increasing firmness.

               “‘But of course, if you do decide you don’t like the neighborhood anymore, there are always alternatives…’” Nancy read her line with obvious pointedness.

               My character then performed all the niceties of getting her suddenly-unwanted guests to leave the house, so she could finally sit down and do some reading for her master’s program. All throughout that dry but necessary dialogue, Peter’s knee started bouncing again, and he twiddled his thumbs.

               “All right, and now there are some stage directions,” Mr. Everhart put on some reading glasses, held up his script, and read them. “Wendy seats herself in her favorite chair by the front window. Everything goes quiet for a few moments as she immerses herself in her studies. Then, a low rumble, like thunder, passes through the house, and she notices it. Suddenly, with a flash of lights and a burst of smoke, Dr. Edward Ripple’s time machine appears stage left, dials and buttons blinking, the whole apparatus spitting and hissing.’”

               “And then the fun starts!” Peter declared, suddenly hopping to his feet. “Mr. Everhart, can we please do this standing up? You can move us all over, wherever you want, I don’t care. C’mon, Anne, I need you.” And he grabbed my hand again and pulled me to my feet.

               “Sure, Peter. I think the machine will be over there almost where the stage left curtain is,” Mr. Everhart twisted and pointed. “We can…Well, we can all turn our chairs so our backs are to the house, and get out of your way.”

               “Mr. Everhart is a brilliant director,” Peter told me swiftly and quietly as he hustled me upstage. “He never makes actors move just for the sake of moving, you know?”

               “Yes, I’ve had directors like that,” I said, my mind spinning. “I mean—ones that made you move just to avoid stagnation on stage.”

               “Right, exactly—that’s pointless,” Peter nodded adamantly. “And it’s irritating—you keep thinking to yourself, what the heck am I doing walking over here? What’s over here? Why am I turning my back on the person I’m talking to? He never does that. Every movement he assigns has motivation.”

               “Good, I look forward to that,” I smiled at him. And he beamed back at me.

               “Okay, sit, stay,” he instructed, holding up a finger. “Right in your invisible chair.”

               I stifled another giggle whilst he left me and dashed off toward the stage left curtain. As he got set, the other actors, along with Mr. Everhart and Aaron, got up and moved their chairs downstage, facing us. I felt a nervous flash again.

We now had an audience.

“Anne, your chair will be about where you’re standing,” Mr. Everhart pointed. “So obviously, you’ll be reacting to the appearance of this ridiculous contraption in your living room.”

“Obviously, yes,” I laughed.

“Okay, so, go ahead,” he said.

Biting back my nervousness, I took a deep breath, let out a yelp, feigned leaping off a chair, gaped with wide eyes, and took several steps backward.

Peter, putting on a deep, critical frown, pantomimed pushing open the heavy door of his time machine, and carefully stepping out onto the floor as if it might be quicksand. His movements were so realistic, as if he were actually touching something I simply couldn’t see. Fixated, I watched him without breathing.

“‘Computer, begin recording. Day one, year 1985. I comprehended just two seconds ago that I should have brought an updated Hydro-polyspringer,’” Peter growled…

And, in one earth-tipping moment, I realized he had all his lines memorized.

He lifted his face, and sniffed the air, then took something invisible from his belt and stared at it, twisting invisible knobs. “‘No sign of ethelnanriol toxaride in the air. Interesting. So what is that smell?’” He stepped around his “time machine,” as if eyeing it up and down, then bent down and twisted the air with his forefinger and thumb. “‘Mhm. Just wore out the Petazap Couplet.’”

Suddenly, I realized that was my cue.

“Um!’” I yelped, flipping the page. “Um, sorry! Okay, okay, found my place. Ahem. ‘Who are you?’”

“‘Thankfully, the yocto-perigram was set correctly,’” Peter went on, as if I hadn’t spoken at all. “‘And the replacement sub-temporary zeptometer seems to have worked just fine.’” Peter rolled his eyes. “‘Which is good because Xaron charged me three times what it’s worth. Filthy cheat.’”

               “‘Hey!’” I shouted, starting toward him. “‘Who are you, where did you come from, and what are you doing in my house?’”

               He stood up, spun around, and pinned me with a lightning-flash of a gaze.

I stopped in my tracks.

               “‘I’m the one who should be asking who you are,’” he snapped. “‘Since every calamity that has befallen the world is the fault of your generation.’”

               “‘Excuse me?’” I took another step toward him. “‘What are you talking about? What is that thing?’”

               “‘This thing,’” he spat, with violent indignance. “‘Is a Third Generation Xenon Parathormax Time Traveler—a Yottazarathor Model. A far more sophisticated device than you could ever comprehend. And I—’” he slapped a hand to his chest. “‘—am the Head Scientist of the First Society. And I am commandeering this house—or whatever it is—for use in my scientific studies.’”

               And with that, he slammed the invisible door to his invisible time-machine with such vehemence that I actually jumped. Then, he stormed across the stage, right past me, and exited stage left.

As I gawked after him, he spun around in the shadows—

Transformed his scowl into a grin, and shouted:

“I assume the stairs will be this direction?”

“You went a bit too far, Peter,” Mr. Everhart called back. “Next curtain downstage!”

“Aha, okee-doke,” Peter called back, hopping over ten feet and playfully sweeping a dividing curtain out of the way. I put a hand over my mouth to hide. Mr. Everhart put on his glasses again, and squinted down at the script.

“All right,” he declared. “On to the next scene—on Wendy’s roof!”

 Chapter Five

             “Okay, Peter, come out here for a second,” Mr. Everhart called.

               “Yes, sir,” Peter said instantly, striding out of the shadows and clasping his hands in front of him. He stopped center stage, his back to me, and stood still, facing the director.

               “Since we’re apparently all right with doing some blocking right now, you can note that you’ll be entering stage right for this scene,” Mr. Everhart said.

               “Yessir,” Peter nodded.

               “Anne,” Everhart beckoned to me. I mentally caught myself and leaped forward, stopping next to Peter.  

               “You will have followed him offstage—after standing for a moment in shock,” Mr. Everhart chuckled. “Up the stairs, through the attic stairway, and then you’ll both stoop through a window on the roof.”

               “Okay, sure,” I said.

               “All right, Peter, go ahead and come on first.”

               “Sir!” he said, turned on his heel, and dashed past me. Spinning around, I hurried after him.

               “Keep up, keep up, girl!” Peter teased, motioning to me as he ducked past the curtains offstage.

               “Haha, I’m trying!” I muttered back.

               “Coming on now,” Peter called out to the others, then bent down, pushed on an invisible window, swung it open, and stepped out. I waited, watching him stride out onto the “roof,” scanning around, and fiddling with the unseen device he’d initially pulled from his belt. He stopped center stage.

Following his lead, but trying not to drop my script, I also bent down just as far as he had, stepped forward as I eyed him—and made a show of tripping over the window ledge. Nancy and Stephen laughed.

All right, mental note to keep that, I thought.

“‘This site should be sufficient,’” Peter began, still talking into his “recording device.” “‘There’s enough attobugisite that I can set the radial thermozetta here…’” He began deftly stepping out measurements across the stage, pointing to certain places, tilting his head and squinting. “‘The radioactive femtobot can clamp to this edge, and leaving a teramacro between it and the zengatera should ensure absolute safety.’”

“‘What on earth are you doing?’” I shouted, storming downstage. He spun to face me, giving me an ugly look.

“‘Why did you follow me?’” he snapped, before sweeping past me in his continuation of taking measurements. I let my mouth fall open, gestured helplessly, then followed him.

“‘This is my house—I’m the one who should be asking you the questions!’”

“‘As I said, this is no longer your house,’” he replied, squatting down and eyeing something unseen with extreme intensity. I glanced down at my script, wishing with all my might I could just throw it offstage and go without it, like him…

“‘Of course it’s my house,’” I retorted. “‘I paid for it, remodeled it, and put this new roof on it! All my mail comes here, I have the deed, for heaven’s sake. This is my house!”

“‘Stop screaming, you ridiculous woman,’” he made a haughty face, and almost put on a British accent. “‘This is not a difficult concept, even for you.’”

“‘Well, breaking and entering isn’t a difficult concept, either,’” I shot back. “‘I’m going downstairs to call the police.’” And I started back toward the invisible window.

“‘Then—I’ll be forced to activate the Megafabricon,’” Peter said, ice-cold, slowly rising to his feet.  

I stopped dead, and made myself turn around very slowly, and pin him with a sideways look.

“‘What is a Megafabricon?’” I asked, my voice low and tight.

Unseen by the others, Peter’s glance suddenly sparkled, and—for some reason—his composure flickered. Then, he lifted his chin and took a deep breath.

“‘It is a super-heated, invisible barrier that will launch from this spot right here—’” he pointed to a spot on the stage and then ferociously shot his hand up into the air.

I cowered backward.

“‘—and cover this building entirely,’” he waved wildly, deepening his voice to booming. “Penetrating through the earth and all the way beneath the basement, encapsulating it in an unbreakable, uncrackable, unshakable forcefield that nothing invented in this century could even put a dent in.’” He leaned toward me. “‘Not even an atomic bomb.’”  

I just stared at him, as per the script—but also captivated by his fiery animation and the radiation in his gaze. I felt like, any second, flames might shoot from his fingers.

“‘You’re insane,’” I said shakily, thankful that I already knew that line and didn’t have to break eye contact.

Suddenly, he shrugged and looked away as if we weren’t talking about anything of importance at all.

“‘Say what you like, it makes very little difference,’” he said lightly. “‘I’m establishing my laboratories here for the duration of my experiments, and you may either remain here and keep to yourself as much as possible, or you can leave.” He put his hands in his pockets and strolled across the front of the stage, as if looking down over the edge of the roof. “‘Of course, I would prefer that you left, but I won’t force you out. I might need someone to cook.’”

“‘Wha—!’” I gasped, speechless with horror, and made myself stammer for a minute whilst he dutifully ignored me. Then, I stomped my foot, grabbed a fistful of my hair…

Then spun around, marched toward the invisible window, threw another forceful glare back at him, pushed through the window—

And tripped again.

Everybody laughed—and I heard Peter break character and snort.

And then…

The cast started clapping. I felt my cheeks get hot, pushed my hair out of my face, and turned back around, biting my lip and smiling. Peter took a bow, and then frantically waved me forward. I laughed and came up to join him.

“Wow, that was great!” Walter cried, clapping widely.

“Good grief, did you two practice this beforehand?” Mr. Everhart asked.

“No, they didn’t,” Aaron sat back and folded his arms, giving us a sly smile. “They’re just reading each other very well.”

“Well, let’s keep going then!” Mr. Everhart suggested, clearing his throat and turning the page. “The next bit takes place on a split set. Stage right will be Wendy’s room, where she’ll be pacing and deciding whether or not to call anyone. Then there’s a wall with a door in it to an adjoining guest bedroom. That’s where Peter will end up. Got it?”

“Yup,” Peter went up on his toes. “Go ahead?”

“Sure, go ahead,” Everhart chuckled, waving us off.

Peter dashed off stage left, and I maneuvered into what I thought was the right place.

“Downstage a bit, Anne,” Aaron motioned to me.

“Okay, makes sense,” I said, obeying. “So, I’ve got a bed here, nightstand, stuff like that?”

“Right, a full-size bed, nightstand, wardrobe over there,” Everhart pointed. “The dividing wall’s at center stage. Got it?”

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“Okay, go.”

I re-oriented myself, outlined the bed and the walls in my mind, and started pacing back and forth, glancing down at my script as I did.

“‘Sure. Okay. There’s a man on my roof, setting up…Tarabetazips or…Plasmafalazoids or…What did he say? The Megafabricon? What is that?’” I stopped in the center of the room and threw my hand in the air. “‘Is that even real? Well, the mess down in the living room is definitely real! Ugh, he probably would do something ridiculous if I called the police. And what exactly is that thing down there, a bomb? It’s obviously not a time machine, whatever he says—he’s clearly crazy…’” I sighed helplessly. “‘But…if I try to explain this to Mom or Eric they’ll think I’m crazy.’” I put my hand to my forehead and kept reading, very aggrieved. “‘What am I going to do?’”

“Clank, crash, boom, general irritating noises,” Peter said in loud monotone. I covered my face with my hand so I wouldn’t giggle.

“Want me to go in the other bedroom now?” I muttered through my fingers.

“Yes, the door’s just upstage of you,” Everhart answered.

“’Kay,” I said, turned and mimed flinging open an adjoining door.

Peter was in the next “room,” pretending to set something up with studious precision. For a second, I gaped at the invisible array of technology that filled the room, which was supposed to have appeared basically out of nowhere.

“‘What are you doing now?’” I demanded, furious.

“‘I noticed you weren’t in this room, and since you live alone, I assumed this was the guest room,’” Peter replied absently. “‘I’ll be staying here for the duration, until I’ve discovered or altered whatever is necessary.’”

I looked down at my script, burning the words into my mind, then pushed it down, lifted my head, and poured boiling venom into my voice.

“‘How. Dare. You.’”

Peter stopped. He frowned over his shoulder at me.

“‘What?’”

“‘I don’t care who you are or what you are—How dare you just…Just come charging into a lady’s home, without asking permission, without smiling, saying hello, explaining yourself?’” I advanced on him like an army.

He faced me, and his eyes flashed.

“‘And now you’re just moving in to my guest room, as if you own it, completely disregarding what I might want or need,’” I continued. “‘Clearly you have extremely advanced technology, and you’re very smart—but you are absolutely disrespectful, uncivilized and unkind. And whatever it is you came here to find out, it’s irrelevant.’”

“‘Irrelevant?’” he repeated, as if baffled.

“‘Yes,’” I bit out. “‘You can’t put any knowledge to good use if you don’t have wisdom and compassion to go along with it. Didn’t your parents teach you that?’”

“‘I didn’t have any parents.’”

                I stopped. Looked down at the script.

               That wasn’t in there.

               I brought my head up, suddenly searching Peter’s face.

               He’d changed completely.

               The hardness had melted from his features, his eyebrows drawn together. His blue eyes, catching the stage lights, seemed incandescent. And he carefully clasped his hands in front of him.

               “‘My parents died in a chemical explosion when I was six months old,’” he went on, his voice quiet and careful. He shifted his weight. “‘I grew up with scientists and professors, surrounded by lab coats and computers. But…even they told me that I suffered from an acute lack of empathy.’”

               I said nothing. I couldn’t say anything—he’d gone off script. So I waited.

               “‘Whatever the cause of it, it must be true,’” he shrugged. “‘I hear it often enough. I don’t like people, and I don’t want their company. But I…I still feel keenly the waste, the missed opportunity that I see every day in the world around me. I just feel it in my bones—that something has gone wrong.’” He looked at me with an odd urgency, and pressed his fingertips to his chest.

               I glance down. What he’d just said somewhat resembled a written line—so I took it.

               “‘What exactly is wrong?’”

               “‘Everything,’” he said—and I could feel the pain in his voice.

Without meaning to, I let the angry tension in my brow change to concern. And I watched every move on his face.

               “‘Half the world’s been destroyed by nuclear holocaust, the people who survived live in a sterile environment—no trees, no grass, no animals. Everything is synthesized, everyone is monitored. Half the population has to live encased in machinery to keep them alive. Nobody risks natural pregnancy for fear of genetic mutation, so children are engineered and then implanted into women who have been specifically chosen for the task.’” He took a deep breath, the pain overwhelming him now. And he took me right with him.

               “‘We live to live,’” he said softly. “‘To survive. To keep going. And yet…We’ve lost everything that makes us want to.’”

               I swallowed, my heart churning inside me. I reluctantly glanced down at my script, then returned my eyes to Peter as quickly as I could.

               “‘How did that happen?’” I asked.

               “‘I don’t know,’” he said helplessly. “‘That’s what I came to find out.’”

               I allowed a pause to linger between us. And I carefully took two steps toward him.

               “‘How do I know you’re from the future?’” I ventured.

               He held out his invisible device. I eyed it for a long moment, then reached out and took it, very carefully.

               “‘What is this?’”

               “‘Almost anything you want it to be,’” he answered. “‘A communicator, a camera, a recording device, a map, a scanner, an X-ray, an infrared detector, a computer, an encyclopedia…Go ahead, ask it something.’”

               “‘Ask it something?’” I raised my eyebrows. “‘This looks like a TV remote with a screen!’”

               Peter chuckled, then buried it.

               “‘It could do that, too. Probably. Go on, ask it something.’”

               I stared doubtfully down at the invisible device, then lifted it up toward my face, and spoke.

               “‘What is the capital of the United States?’”

               “‘The capital of the United States of America was Washington, District of Columbia,’” Aaron read out, as the voice of the computer, in his most precise and lofty British accent.

               My character would obviously be astonished at this, so I let my mouth fall open and I held up the device, staring at Peter and then at it. He just stood there, a self-satisfied smile on his face. Finally, I hesitated, frowning at it, before I risked another question.

               “‘What is the circumference of the earth?’”

               “‘Twenty-four thousand, nine hundred one miles,’” Aaron answered.

               “‘What is the distance from the earth to the sun?’”

               “‘Ninety-two point nine-six million miles.’”

               “‘Okay,’” I said, putting challenge in my tone. “‘How tall am I?’”

               “‘You are a human female, aged twenty-six, standing five feet, six inches tall.’”

               I widened my eyes at Peter.

               “‘That’s…’” I stammered. “‘That’s not possible.’”

Peter just lifted his eyebrows a little, implying I ought to go on. I narrowed my eyes, and said my next line very pointedly.

               “‘All right. Okay, fine. What is the population of the earth?’”

               “‘Two million, seven hundred fifty thousand, one hundred three.’”

               I stopped. I looked up at Peter again.

               He gazed back at me, sorrow all over his face. I swallowed. And, without taking my eyes from Peter, I asked again.

               “‘What year is it?’”

               “‘The year is two-thousand, eighty-five years after the birth of Christ,’” Aaron answered, without a hint of emotion.

               “‘Wow,’” I gasped, looking earnestly at Peter. “‘This…This is true, then? You’re actually…from the future. And it’s actually…Like that.’”

               “‘I’m afraid so.’” He closed one eye in a tired wince.  

               “‘And you’ve come here to what…get away from that?’” I ventured, holding out the device to him.

               “‘Oh, no,’” he shook his head, taking it from me. “‘I’m a scientist, and I never run away from anything. I want to learn—to find out what went wrong, and prevent it.’”

               “‘You’re trying to change the future?’” I cried.

               “‘Yes, exactly!’” he stepped toward me now, getting more animated with his gestures. “‘If I can discover what events led to the domino effect that created the world I now live in—then it won’t turn out that way! Don’t you see? If I can get to the bottom of this, I could prevent nuclear genocide, test-tube babies, synthesized food, people living in cubicles and never seeing the sky or trees or animals again.’”

               I looked at him for a long time as he gazed earnestly at me.

               “‘And for some reason…’” I said slowly. “‘You think that whatever went wrong…happened at my house?’”

               “‘Well, maybe not your house precisely,’” he shrugged. “‘According to my calculations, it happened somewhere within a ten-mile radius of here, and your house is at the center of it.’”

               “‘That sounds pretty precise to me,’” I offered a weak laugh. His smile brightened a little.

               “‘Don’t you see how important this is?’” he asked. “‘Not just for my generation, but all the generations that come after?’”

               I canted my head, frowning.

               “‘But,’” I said slowly. “‘Theoretically…If you change something in the past…couldn’t you erase your own existence? Make it so you were never born?’”

               “‘Time travel is still in a very experimental stage,’” he replied. “‘And no theory has been tested to its full extent yet. So, technically…’” He took a deep breath. “‘Yes. Yes, I could.’”

               “‘And you’re still willing to do it?’” I studied him hard.

               “‘Absolutely,’” he said. “‘And you…’” he stopped.

               I raised my eyebrows, waiting. He glanced down, bit his lip, then risked another step toward me.

               “‘And you may help me. If you’re willing.’”

               I didn’t say my next line. For some reason, a line—any line—felt wrong.

               So instead, I held out my right hand.

               Peter’s eyes flashed to mine. He looked at my hand, then at me again.

               And that incandescent sparkle danced across his gaze for just an instant.

               He reached out, very carefully, and took my hand.

               But he didn’t shake it. Instead, he gently took my fingers and curled them inside his, leaving our thumbs to rest on top. He tapped my thumb with his, and ducked his head.

               “‘I…’” He hesitated. “‘I don’t believe I caught your name.’”

               Finally, I let myself smile at him—which I’d been wanting to do the whole time.

               “‘I’m Wendy James.’”

               He looked up, and squeezed my fingers.

               “‘I’m Dr. Edward Ripple.’”

               And he smiled back at me.

               “Very good!” Mr. Everhart declared, and the rest of the cast clapped—and Walter whistled.

Unable to contain myself any longer, I gripped Peter’s hand and leaned in close to him.

               “Peter—you are fantastic!” I told him. “That was incredible!”

               “Oh, shoot—no it wasn’t,” he dipped his head away, then sneaked a glance up at me. “You think so?”

               “Absolutely!” I cried, keeping hold of him. “I’ve never seen anything like that!”

               “Oh, I hardly knew what I was doing, I was so busy watching you,” he answered, laughing.

               “Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoffed, shaking my head. “You’re amazing.”

               He couldn’t repress his grin anymore, and turned away to hide it—but I felt him tighten his grip on me, and I saw his cheeks color.

               “I am impressed,” Aaron declared. “That was wonderful to watch.”

I dipped my head, and Peter swung our hands back and forth.

“Why don’t we take a ten minute break?” Mr. Everhart suggested. “Get a drink of water, stretch out a bit, and come back for the next scene.”

 Chapter Six

             The rest of the morning, we ran the entire show.

After watching Peter and I trip over windows and slam doors and talk to invisible hand-held devices, the rest of the cast wasn’t content anymore to just sit and read through the script. Knowing what I did about actors, I’m sure they were eager to prove that they could mime and pretend just as heartily as anybody else. So, holding their scripts in one hand and gesturing with the other, Nancy, Stephen and Walter threw themselves into the scenes.

               Mr. Everhart, too, got out of his chair several times—in spite of his painful knee—and maneuvered carefully around the stage, pointing with enthusiasm to the places where tables, chairs, couches, fireplaces, doors and futuristic equipment would be, and where we ought to stand in relation to the furniture and each other. Only Aaron remained seated, pencil in hand, silently watching us and making marks in his script.

               I noticed right away that the other actors had studied the script even more diligently than I had, and seriously thought about their character voices and even some mannerisms—especially Walter. Both Nancy and Stephen readily made eye contact with me and each other as we rehearsed, turning the lines into actual conversations.

               Stephen wasn’t afraid to come close to me when the scene called for it, put an arm around me, or give me a quick peck on the head, just as an actual gentlemanly boyfriend would. He had a deep voice and an easy manner that, as Eric Schultz, also carried a confidence and a little sharpness that I thought was perfect for the part. He had an incredibly handsome smile that he used skillfully to soften what otherwise might be unkind-sounding lines. And when he looked at me, I really enjoyed looking back at him, because he had radiant green eyes and a piercing gaze that pulled me into the moment of the story.

               Nancy exuded class and a sweet sort of arrogance, using her beauty to make Janet James’ whole aura charming instead of irritating. Twice during a conversation, she reached out and grasped my hand, so I decided that was the gesture we’d use as a family signal—and so later, when my character wanted to make a point with hers, I reached out and grasped her hand in turn. When I did, she returned the pressure and gave me all of her attention.

               Walter, when he wasn’t in character, reminded me of a cat I had at home upstate: sweet, a little shy but likes everyone, and fond of sitting dopily around and blinking. But when Walter became Allen, his watery eyes took on a cunning coldness, like a lean, starving wolf, and he’d tilt his head in an absolutely unnerving fashion that caused me to break into uncomfortable giggles more than once.  

               One time, as Mr. Everhart was talking to Stephen and Nancy, and Peter was discussing something with Aaron, I found myself standing next to Walter. He shifted uncomfortably, keeping his eyes on his script—except when he’d glance repeatedly over at me. Finally, I turned to him.

               “Do you have family here in New York, Walter?”

               “Um…Yeah, actually,” he said, his head coming up in surprise. “I…I live with my sister. She works on Wall Street.”

               “Wow!” I exclaimed. “That’s high-pressure work.”

               “Yeah,” he laughed. “She and I are constantly having competitions about who has the most to worry about. She says she worries about watching a million dollars go down the tubes, I say I worry about tripping and falling on my face in front of a thousand people.”

               “Oh, you’re not going to fall on your face,” I assured him. “You’re doing a really wonderful job.”

               “Thank you,” he smiled and shrugged one shoulder. “I haven’t gotten a part in such a long time, I feel pretty rusty. But I’ve worked with Mr. Highgate before, in one of his first plays, and he called me up and asked if I’d be interested in this one.”

               “Hey, that’s wonderful!”

               “Yeah, he’s a great guy. Really sensible and down to earth,” Walter nodded, then lowered his voice. “Unlike most writers in New York.”

               I chuckled at that, and then Mr. Everhart called us back to the scene.

               As we progressed, the scenes I had with Stephen and Nancy were measured, flowing, natural, and felt astonishingly-good and solid. I’d worked with excellent college performers before, but never professionals—and it suddenly felt like stepping from a rickety stool onto a marble tabletop. I could tell that I could rely on them to come in every time, to remember their lines, and to bring life and flavor to every scene.

               Peter, on the other hand…

               He felt like a hurricane.

               A delightful, energetic, flashing storm of a presence, spitting out those nonsensical futuristic words as if he spoke fluent technobabble; expertly working the dials and knobs of the invisible computers that slowly crowded every room; flying into thunderous, self-righteous rages only to wilt in defeat and confusion. When he and I had scenes together, I felt like I was grabbing onto the tailcoats of a whirling dervish and fighting to hold on.

               Yet, every time I felt like I was just about to get shaken loose, he’d stop. He’d slow down, change his tone, come over to me, and pierce me with such keen and unwavering attention that I had just enough time to gather myself, take a breath, and continue with my line.

He never touched me whilst playing Dr. Ripple, and portrayed the eccentric scientist with a haughty, Sherlockian aloofness. But when we broke character to listen to Mr. Everhart, he often nudged me, gave me sly looks, or made faces when the director wasn’t looking to try to make me giggle.

We all burst through the length of the script, laughing in between times, often excitedly talking over each other about character points.

And then, suddenly, we came to the last scene.

“All right, that’s good enough,” Aaron said, holding up a hand.

I twitched, surprised. I’d almost forgotten he was there.

“Yes, Mr. Highgate is right,” Mr. Everhart grunted, sitting down in his chair again. “We’ll rehearse this scene separately, since there’s obviously no script for it, and an entirely different technique will be used. And, of course, it’ll only involve Peter and Anne.’”

“And I think you may need to rest, my friend,” Aaron gave him a careful smile.

“Oh, nothing a couple aspirin can’t fix,” Mr. Everhart waved him off.

“No point in pushing yourself,” Aaron countered. “We’ve come a lot further today than we thought we would.”

“Wow, is it already two in the afternoon?” Nancy realized, looking down at her watch. “I completely lost track of time!”

“Easy to do,” Peter laughed.

“No wonder I was starting to feel wobbly on my legs,” Walter remarked. “I’m starved!”

“Well, there are several good restaurants around here,” Aaron said. “There’s a pizzeria around the corner that’s particularly good. I suggest everyone go eat, study your scripts, rest, and we’ll see you back here tomorrow at nine a.m.”

“I’ll be here at seven,” Peter nodded, giving a grin to his uncle, then to me.

“Bye, everybody!” Nancy waved. “See you tomorrow!”

“Goodbye, Mother!” I called teasingly after her.

“Go get good rest, darling,” she answered as she headed toward the stairs, putting on her Mrs. James affect. “Don’t neglect your beauty sleep!”

The others waved and said goodbye, and I shut my script and went to pick up my purse from beside where I’d been sitting.

“I thought that went really well,” Peter said to Aaron in a calm, low—but not secretive—voice.

“Yes, I thought so, too,” Aaron agreed, standing up and closing his own script. I glanced over to see Peter put his hands in his pockets.

“Nancy’s really natural, and Walter’s just great,” Peter noted. “He’s seriously creeping me out.”

“Yes, and I’m glad I got Stephen,” Aaron said. “Snatched him out of the jaws of some big musical that’s opening two weeks from now. A revival of Cinderella, I think.”

“Yeah, he looks like the football type,” Peter said, in a sports announcer voice. I stifled another smile and started toward the steps, hearing the men continue talking behind me. I pushed through the curtain and headed down the stairs and out into the house.

Then, I heard footsteps behind me, and turned to see Peter walking up the aisle, his hands still in his pockets, his head bent in thought.

“I’m so impressed you have all your lines memorized,” I said, stopping to wait for him. He blinked and lifted his head, then gave a friendly shrug.

“Ha. Easy when you write half of them,” he said.

“You wrote half of them?” I cried, falling into step beside him.

“Yeah, I basically invented the character,” he said. “Uncle Aaron wrote all the mentally stable ones, like you.”

I chuckled, and he answered it. We stepped out into the lobby, and I turned to face him.

“Well, would you like to come to lunch with me?” I asked. “I thought I’d go to the pizzeria Aaron mentioned, since it’s close by—I’d love to hear about what it’s like to write a script.”

“Hey, I’d like to, but I have a date,” he said.

“Oh!” I blinked. “A date? Okay—some other time, then.”

“Sure,” he smiled brightly. “And we won’t go to any run-of-the-mill pizza place. I know this Indian spot around the corner that’s fabulous—you won’t be able to feel your tongue afterward, but you’ll die happy.”

“Haha, okay,” I agreed. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye!” he waved at me, and headed toward the back of the lobby, where there was probably a side door I didn’t know about.

Unable to turn away quite yet, I watched him go, feeling an odd shift inside me—like I’d just been swept through the tail of a comet.

           “Hi, Mom!”

               “Hi, Annie! How was rehearsal?”

               “Ugh, I’m exhausted,” I groaned stretching out on the couch, Milo purring on my stomach. I adjusted the telephone wire. “It’s only four in the afternoon and I’m ready for bed. I’ve already had a bath and I’m in my pajamas and everything. I can’t even summon the energy to get up and put a movie in the VCR.”

               “Goodness, why are you so tired?”

               I heaved another sigh.

               “We ended up running almost the whole show today,” I answered. “It was just supposed to be a read-through, but then Peter Wren wanted to get up and actually go through the motions—which is a lot easier for him, since he’s got it all memorized.”

               “Peter is Aaron Highgate’s nephew, right?”

               “Yeah,” I smiled. “Wow, Mom—he’s incredible. What a fantastic actor. And he just seems to have endless energy. Like a puppy or something. He’s going to run us all ragged.”

               “Yes, Aaron’s told me a little about him,” Mom said.

               “Really?” I adjusted the throw pillow behind my head. “What did he say?”

               “He hasn’t talked to me about him in a long time,” Mom said. “It was when Peter was in high school, and Aaron was really worried about him.”

               “Worried? Why?”

               “I can’t remember exactly—mixing with the wrong crowd, I think. Getting involved in things that caused him to miss classes and start failing. I think he was even arrested.”

               “Arrested!” I cried.

               “I might be wrong—but he got in quite a bit of trouble.”

               “Hm,” I murmured, rubbing my forehead. “Well, maybe, since Aaron hasn’t talked about it for a while, he’s straightened out now.”

               “Quite possible! And it’s probably good that he’s working so closely with his uncle,” Mom noted. “Probably helps keep him on the right track.”

               “Hopefully,” I said quietly. “Because—the rest of the cast is really good, and I’m going to love working with them…but,” I took a deep breath, realizing what I was about to say was true, even as I formed the words. “He’s Edward Ripple. And I honestly don’t think this show could even work without him.”

   Chapter Seven

Friday, April 12th

             My heart pounded, and I stared up at the dim ceiling of my bedroom. The memory of the Picture that had just flashed in front of my eyes made me frown so hard my head hurt.

               In it, I was on the stage at the Quadrant Theatre, staring out at the empty house. Except it wasn’t quite empty.

               A man sat there, six rows from the stage, right in the center, staring back at me.

               He wore a black suit and dark blue tie, and had white hair and neatly-trimmed beard. He wore businesslike glasses, and had a red handkerchief in his breast pocket.

And his gaze pinned me—shafted right through me, froze me to the spot, so that I couldn’t move or think.

I shivered as I lay there in bed, wanting to duck back underneath the covers and stay there all day.

RING-RING!

The jangle of the phone nearly made me fall out of bed.

I whipped into a sitting position, snatched up the handset and pushed it to my ear.

“Hello?” I croaked.

“Hello, Miss Maple, this is your 7:30 wake-up call.”

I slapped a hand to my head.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“It’s Peter Wren,” he said brightly. “Did I do a good job—are you awake?”

I chuckled, sounding like a 100-year-old woman.

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Come on, girl, you should be up already—eating Wheaties, building up your strength, running laps around the block—”

I really started laughing now, and I could feel him smiling on the other end.

Read this book: https://www.amazon.com/Last-Scene-Alydia-Rackham-ebook/dp/B07JHSJ1JC/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=the+last+scene+alydia+rackham&qid=1572889808&sr=8-1

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Thirty-Six, “I’ll Be Seeing You”

Links: 

- *NEW* Check out the new character survey I filled out from Becky’s POV here!

- *NEW* Take a look at the new character survey I filled out from Harry’s POV here!  

- All chapters can be found here!

- Inspo tag can be found here!

- Spotify playlist *updated often* can be listened to here!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 7.2k words

                                             SNEAKYYYYYYYY PEEK

“I don’t know how I’m going to get through the next two weeks with that teasing around in my head - the fact that I get to work with him every day for five days a week. A dream come true, in every way. I’m rather positive tonight will tide me over until next week when I have my orientation.

I have a good feeling for the first time in a while, so many of them actually.

“God, it’ll be weird going back to being boss and employee again. It was so much easier being just friends,” I remark jokingly, the song flowing from his lips mixing with that of my own.

“Eh,” Harry says, shrugging his broad shoulders covered in his long black peacoat. “Don’ think o’ it that way, Becks, we’re colleagues now, which ‘s even betta.”

Song Inspo: I’ll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday (click to listen and am I the only one thinking of The Notebook now?) 

               “What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning.” - T.S. Eliot

Confliction knits together in my stomach as I travel the halls on my way to work. Enthusiasm peeks through when I pass the several courtrooms on my way, imagining myself in them sat next to Harry, his co-counsel. No longer are there feelings of disdain and longing when I pass Courtroom #5, or the mailroom I so often hid inside the walls of. Disdain found its way back to me when I entered the door for Administration, my lousy desk calling for me from its corner. I somehow can’t seem to escape that character trait. Nonetheless, a smile stuck to my lips at times throughout the morning as I browsed new work outfits online during downtime. 

The morning went by painfully slow as I waited to try and catch Sophie after her many meetings and phone calls. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure how I would survive two more weeks of the humdrum between these four walls with my new future teasing me. Not when something out of a dream had woven its way into my life now, getting to work with Harry as his mentee, and a second chance at all of it. A second chance I wasn’t going to waste this time. 

“Hey, Sophie. Good morning, I was wondering if I could speak to you about something?” I ask her, finally finding the right moment as she walks by my desk after a meeting. 

“Yes of course, love. I was just going to grab some tea, why don’t you join me?” she murmurs with a smile, waving her arm as a signal to follow her down the hallway to the nearby break room. “Does this have anything to do with the glowing recommendation I gave about you to a certain Mr. Styles yesterday?”

“Maybe,” I laugh softly, holding open the door for her. 

“Did you get called back for another interview?!” she asks excitedly, her long maroon pants twirling around her legs when she turns to face me. 

“Even better, I got the job!” I answer, matching her excitement easily. She lets out a yelp of joy before wrapping me in a hug. 

“I’m so happy for you, love, even though I’ll be sad to see you go,” she hums, the heavy charm bracelet on her wrist brushing against my back. 

“Thank you, I am too. It’s pretty bittersweet.” 

“Yes, indeed. When will be your last day with us?” she inquires, patting my arm on her way to the electronic kettle she’s had her eyes on. 

“The uh twenty-fifth officially, so I have two weeks left to help find a replacement and finish up my work.”

“Ah, that sounds right,” she mumbles as she removes a packet of tea from a box in the drawer, ginger tea. 

“I was wondering if there is any chance that I’d be able to take a day off somewhere in there to complete some orientation for the uh, new job. If not, that’s of course okay. I just thought I’d ask, since sometimes I’m sent home early for the day or some days are slow,” I suggest nervously, clasping my hands together to keep myself from fidgeting too much. 

“Of course. Hmmm, let me think,” she almost whispers, tapping her long pink fingernails against the counter while swirling the teabag in the steaming water. “I think next Friday would be fine, since those days are rather slow anyways. Does that work for you, love?”

“Yeah, I’ll have to uh, check with Mr. Styles about it to see if it works with him. You know, his cases and the like,” I respond uncertainly, toying with the dainty golden ring Skye got me for Christmas, an amethyst stone set into the middle. 

“Is this Mr. Styles the former boss you spoke of?” she inquires, turning to face me with a grin budding on her lips. I’m unsure of what to say and so I nod my head, but I can tell by the look on her face that I’m not hiding my expressions very well either. “What’s that big smile for, huh, Becky?”

“Nothing,” I respond quickly, trying to save myself as I walk around, reaching into the cupboards for a mug. 

“You haven’t been wearing that big smile for nothing, and it didn’t get five times brighter when I brought up his name for nothing either.”

Her name falls from my lips in a futile warning, marked by an accidental laugh. My name soon follows even though I try to ignore it as I inspect the tea drawer, packets ranging from peach, mint, ginger, green, wild berry, and even glazed lemon loaf. I indulge myself and finally try the sweet lemon one, smiling at the smell of the teabag. 

“I don’t know how to put it into words,” I suffice, picking up the electric kettle, watching how the teabag reacts to the boiling water. 

“Feelings are hard to put into words sometimes, aren’t they?” Sophie replies, somehow putting my confliction and doubt so easily into a phrase. 

“Yeah, and they’re scary to admit.”

“That they are, love,” she tuts, her spoon clanging against the ceramic inside of the mug as she stirs honey into hers. “They’re even harder to admit when you have them for somebody . . Am I getting close?”

“Very,” I respond, jiggling the teabag in and out of the scalding liquid, feeling the tendrils of steam tickle my face. 

“Answer me this, are you feeling better about going back to work for him?”

“Yes, very much so, until I start thinking about it too much,” I reveal softly, growing more comfortable telling her as the seconds pass, wishing it were this easy to tell him. 

“If it’s in your plans, perhaps you should tell him what you told me, or start it off that way. He sounded rather fond of you over the phone, you should know. A very kind and attentive man, as well,” she murmurs sweetly, tapping her spoon on the lip of her mug a few times. “Whatever you decide to do, Becky, I wish you luck and I hope you’re happy. Why don’t you go give a ring to tell him about next Friday?” 

“Thank you, Sophie, really. It means a lot to me,” I reply slowly, weight clinging to every word. 

“Sure thing, love. Now go and make me proud and call him, so you don’t have to wait two weeks to see him.”

I just nod, a smile plastered all over my face as I pick up my tea and bring it with me, feeling her hand on my arm. Few people meander the halls as I join them until I find an empty bench tucked away in a private corner. After setting down the hot mug of tea on a windowsill, I can already feel my fingers trembling pulling my phone from my pocket. Once again, the numbers flow from my fingers effortlessly as I type in his number, but then I stop. I delete them and switch over to Recent Calls, hastily tapping Harry (work) before I lose my bravery. I suppose I should get used to calling this number, anyways, I conclude amongst my thoughts. As I listen to it ring, I debate whether to pick up the tea, but when I glance at the shakes consuming my fingers, I decide against it. They only come to shake harder and faster as I wait, and wait, and wait. 

Suddenly the sound changes, but my ears are met with disappointment. “Hi, ya’ve reached tha office of Harry Styles here at Styles and Lawson. ‘m sorry I missed yer call due t’ bein’ out o’ tha office or in court. Please leave yer name and numba, and ‘ll return yer call as soon as I can,” his pre-recorded message trickles into my ears, the same cold one I’ve heard over and over again. I try to remember the last time I heard it, but it must have been years. Wow, years is a long time. 

The beep comes out of nowhere and I’m stumbling over my words already, “Hi, Harry. This is Becky. If you could give me a call back when you get a chance, that would be great. I’ll try to answer, but I’m at work . . Talk to you soon, bye.” 

Groaning, my fingers soon get caught in my hair anxiously. Taking a deep breath, I try to talk myself down and realize that this happens all of the time. He may be in a meeting, in the middle of a trial, on the phone with a client, out for the day- there are so many possibilities. They don’t soften the blow of wanting to hear his voice and not getting to. No, they can’t take that way or make up for the loss. Exhaling, I stand to my feet and go to reach for my tea, right as my phone begins to buzz in my pocket. 

“Skye, if this is you calling in the middle of my shift again, or Robbie,” I mumble behind gritted teeth, blinking hard as I sit back down. 

I don’t even glance at the name on my screen before answering it with a dreary ‘hello.’

“My goodness, don’ sound so happy t’ talk t’ me,” Harry rasps from the other side, his voice having a cooling effect on the hot frustration coursing through my body. 

“I’m sorry, I-I am. I thought you were somebody else,” I reply, trying not to laugh, but it makes its way out. 

“Ah I see, well that person ‘s in fer a bad time with you,” he titters, and I think I can almost picture it. His eyes crinkling, him doing that scrunchy nose thing, the light green speckles in his eyes sparkling, and him playing with his bottom lip. “So what’s up, Becks? I see ya left a message, but I didn’t listen, jus’ called ya back. Shouldn’t ya be workin’?” he teases, his tone changing to a cocktail of firm and teasing towards the end. My favorite sound. All of it, just it all. 

“Yeah,” I laugh nervously, thinking back to what Sophie said, and trying to focus on only the day off. “I just spoke to my boss and she gave me next Friday off, so I can come and do my orientation that day with you. Would that work for you, Harry?”

“Ah, that’s very nice o’ her. She was very helpful and lovely when I spoke t’ her on tha phone yestaday. Ya, lemme pull up me calendar t’ see what I have goin’ on next Friday,” Harry responds warmly, distraction plaguing his voice quickly. 

“Oh she was? She said you were very nice as well, and that she gave me, I quote ‘a glowing recommendation.’ So, what’d you two talk about?”

“None o’ yer business ‘s what. That’s fer me t’ know and fer you t’ not find out,” he quips with a laugh, typing and clicking appearing softly in his background. “Okay, Friday. Let’s see.” 

“Harry,” I tease not so seriously, hearing a humored hum from him. 

“Becks,” he echoes with an affable scoff. “Oh here, Friday. Ya, that should work fer you t’ c’min t’ do yer orientation. How does nine t’ five sound, bug?” he continues, clicking his tongue habitually, something I remember he does to help him to focus. 

There’s that nickname again, Becky. That’s what, how many times he’s used it in the last two days?

Okay, you have a good point, but hush. 

“Great! I mean, that sounds great. I’ll plan for nine am then, and will dinner and drinks work afterward too?” I question, feeling like I’m stepping further out on this limb that I’ve been climbing dangerously. 

“Ummmmm,” he murmurs, clicking his tongue again absentmindedly. Somehow, even that is cute and it’s just so him, and it makes the missing him ache just a little bit more. “No, ‘m sorry, Becks. ‘m s’posed t’ go out t’ dinna with my sista at half-past five,” he reports solemnly, and that ache hits a little harder now. 

“That’s okay,” I chirp, trying to mask the disappointment in my voice. I feel like I do it pretty well, but I’ve never been the best at telling. 

“No, we’ll figure out anotha day. We’ve put this off fer too long now- Okay, lemme look su’more,” he mumbles, and now I’m sure he’s playing with his bottom lip. And I’m also sure that this all couldn’t be better. I get to see him in less than two weeks, and now maybe sooner. 

Yaaaaaaay!

Yipeeeeeee!

“I see, you’re just too busy for me, because you’re such a popular man,” I sigh dramatically feeling the teasing smile tug at my lips. 

“I am not too busy fer you. ‘s jus’ a busy life bein’ a lawyer, so ya betta get ready fer it, Becks. And I dunno ‘bout bein’ popular, I jus’ think ‘s tha bloody New Years thing. All o’ these friends are comin’ outta tha woodwork, wantin’ t’ get drinks or dinna, saying oh ‘s been so long since I saw ya last blah blah. Ugh, ‘s ridiculous,” he drawls with a groan being the period to his sentence, and all I can do is laugh. 

“You can say ‘no’, you do know that right?” 

“‘Course I know, Becks, but I dunno, tha nostalgia kinda draws me in too. ‘s like oh maybe going to get drinks with Matt from uni would be fun, even tho’ he was a prick, but hey he threw those cool parties,” he explains, a chuckle soon devouring his words and then my ears. Oh, how I’ve missed that sound so dearly. “But no, you and I are gettin’ dinna and drinks. Hey, what’re ya doin’ t’night?” 

“T-Tonight tonight? Um, nothing. I work until six, that’s all. Otherwise, you could probably find me sprawled out on the sofa watching FRIENDS or old reruns of Hell’s Kitchen after that,” I stutter, tripping over my words and more so the idea he just pitched, one that knocked me off my feet rather quickly and completely.  

“Ooooo tha trashy shows,” he chuckles and I have to resist rolling my eyes. 

“Hey, you watch them too!” 

“Not Hell’s Kitchen, altho- wait, ya ‘ve watched it a few times, I admit,” he relents, earning a ‘ha!’ from me that pulls a laugh from his lips. 

Oh, I could do this all day. 

Soon you get to!

Okay, don’t remind me, because I can’t have another reason for these next two weeks to be pure torture. 

“Harry watches trashy tv, hmmm,” I coo happily, that magical sound of his filling my ears again, and then my heart. “We should watch more of it together sometime. But yes, tonight would work. What are you thinking?”

“‘m really glad it finally worked out, and ya we will. Um, how ‘bout six-thirty, does that give ya enuff time?” he poses, and hastily my heart thrashes around in my chest with excitement, growing anxious at the thought of seeing him tonight. Thank, God, he said six-thirty so I can stop home and actually make myself look decent. I didn’t even try when I got up this morning.

“Yeah, six-thirty works. Where would you like to have dinner? Um, what about . . . tacos?”

“Tacos?” he chimes in at the same time as me, sending us both into a fit of contagious giggles. “Happy we’re already on tha same page with some stuff.”

“Me too . . So, tacos and we’ll find a pub somewhere for drinks?”

“Ya, I know a good place ‘ll take ya t’,” he rasps, a light coming through in his voice. I’m not sure if it’s my own internalized buzz of emotions, or if perhaps it’s his own showing through. “Shots and e’rythin,” he purs devilishly. 

“No, Harry, no shots,” I giggle, unable to contain it for any longer. 

“Yes, at least a few. That’s how ya celebrate, not with bloody margaritas, bug. I guess I have loads t’ teach ya ‘bout alcohol, I gotta turn ya onto sumthin’ otha than those bleedin’ wine coolers ya like. Those jus’ give ya gut rot and taste like candy, don’ do anythin’ fer a buzz,” he comments, that other side of him shining through now, more and more with every word he lets go. 

“Oh boy, am I in for it with you, or what?” I exhale, happiness sticking to every breath. 

“Yes indeed, ya are, Becks. Betta get ready fer some fun t’night,” he drawls, the honey sticking lazily to his deep voice. 

“But you’re almost thirty, I thought old people can’t have fun, Harry?”

The groan lined with affable humor tells me what he’s thinking first, and then I hear him sigh, “Ya betta not start this again, ‘m yer boss again, y’know,” he snickers, feigning authority in his soft baritone. 

“No, not for a week officially. Not yet. You’re just my friend right now,” I smile, thinking of Sophie when the feelings start to bleed through into my voice, piecing themselves together, although bittersweetly. I know I can’t handle being just friends, but every second more I’m starting to realize that oftentimes, friends has to come first before more. We have some catching up to do, that’s for sure. 

“Alrighty then. Well, yer just friend has t’ go t’ a meetin’ now, and ‘s tellin’ ya that ya should prolly get back t’ work now too.”

“Wait, since when do you go to meetings? Are you trying to be a good role model for me or something? Aw, how nice of you!” I exclaim, almost confident of the surprise in my voice being genuine. 

“Becks,” Harry laughs, the sound consuming his voice and playing in my ear, but not for long enough. God, that has to be my favorite song. “‘ll see ya t’night, love. Six-thirty,” he hums happily, and for once, I don’t have to wish for what he’s having, because I’m having it too. I feel it, the bubbly hope that could drown me in a moment. I want to let it, and I decide to. 

“Bye, Harry. Have a good day, I’m excited to see you.”

“‘m lookin’ forward t’ it too, bug. Bye,” he croons, and I hope he can hear the smile in my voice, because I can see his already. I think his is filled with hope too. 

It’s a miracle that I didn’t spill my tea as I walked back into the admin office, although it may have been a different story if I hadn’t taken that few minute breather to recover. I was even more surprised when tears of joy didn’t leave my eyes when I shared the new development with Sophie during my lunch break. Although I previously thought it was impossible, my excitement for later tonight only grew when I told her about it, and we both freaked out about it. I really do think I will miss her, she was perhaps one of the best bosses I’ve ever had. 

Waiting at my desk for the time to pass, I still can’t believe that later tonight I get to go and have dinner and drinks with my favorite boss of all time. 

+

Low and behold, searching my closet for something to wear later that night seems next to impossible. Each full hanger that I pass feels like it takes with it a precious minute of my time. After trying on and tossing aside three other outfits, I finally decided on one. Luckily, redoing my morning routine doesn’t take very long, and I soon have minty fresh breath and clean skin again. At the last minute, I decide to ditch the heavy makeup, and leave it minimal. I slide my violet peacoat over the striped maroon sweater and dark jeans, and my brown chelsea boots soon enter the snow. 

The smell of tortillas, peppers, and chili powder hits me in the face when the bell tinkles above my head on the door. Voices buzz around the inside of Pedro’s, a local Mexican restaurant I haven’t been to in well, years. That thought comes to me as a shock as I look around, and finally spot the reason for my absence, sitting at the same table in the right corner we’d always claim. I linger there by the door for a few moments, admiring him as he stares at his phone intensely. Unsurprisingly, I find it adorable how he toys with his bottom lip between his two fingers and jiggles his leg resting on the chair’s rung. A warmth grows in my chest at the sight of him, and a combination of excitement and relief builds with every step I take closer to him. I can’t count the number of times I’ve felt it escape me with every step I’ve put between us, and finally now I’m returning to him. 

The red and white menu is glossy between my hands, and sticky in some places when I take a seat across from him. I don’t let a word slip and only focus on the menu, despite his green eyes waiting for me silently. 

“Yer late, y’know. Not makin’ a very good impression with yer boss, are we?” Harry comments, pulling back the scarlet fabric of his button down to tap his watch. 

The menu falls with a feathery sound to the table when I belatedly make eye contact with him. I try to resist the feelings that tug at my lips when I watch the corners of his curl. 

“Hush, it’s six thirty-four. The traffic was horrid, and it’s after hours, boss. And, I haven’t even started working for you again yet,” I chuckle, savoring the way the dimples fall into his cheeks effortlessly, not there a second ago. He seems to relent, shoving his phone away in his pocket, his eyes lifting to mine again. 

“How was yer day then?”

“It was a typical boring Friday. How was yours?” I reply, resting my hands on top of each other and mindlessly letting my fingers dance atop each other. 

“‘Bout tha same. ‘m tryna find a new case, but now I gotta keep you in mind. I gotta rememba ya’ll be workin’ with me in two weeks, so I gotta do stuff like clean my bloody office and be mo’ stringent when pickin’ cases ,” he titters, touching his pointer finger to his head as I try not to lose myself in his mossy green eyes. 

At the sound of his words, I find it even harder not to. I don’t know how I’m going to get through the next two weeks with that teasing around in my head - the fact that I get to work with him every day for five days a week. A dream come true, in every way. I’m rather positive tonight will tide me over until next week when I have my orientation. 

I have a good feeling for the first time in a while, so many of them actually.

“God, it’ll be weird going back to being boss and employee again. It was so much easier being just friends,” I remark jokingly, the song flowing from his lips mixing with that of my own. 

“Eh,” Harry says, shrugging his broad shoulders covered in a thick black Northface coat. “Don’ think o’ it that way, Becks, we’re colleagues now, which ‘s even betta.” 

“Sure. ‘Associate and partner’ and ‘mentor and mentee’ don’t really sound that way, but okay. It’s not like you have almost ten years of experience over me, or anything.” 

“Well ya, that’s what happens when yer tha new fish in tha pond, it happens t’ us all. Ya jus’ gotta climb tha ladder one step atta time, love,” he replies, the dimple in one of his cheeks finding a permanent residence there. 

“Fish can’t climb ladders, silly. And I know, but it’s odd to think that you’re only three years older than me, and have so much experience in law when I’m just starting. I guess that’s why you don’t putz around like me,” I note, drawn in by him randomly sliding a plain silver ring with a black line in the middle, up and down his left middle finger. 

“Wait, what was that, ‘m only how many years older than you? I didn’t catch that,” he teases, cupping his hand around the outside of his ear, inching his neck towards me with the funniest look on his face. 

The only response I give him is the old stink eye which almost makes a laugh explode from his lips. 

“Ya betta watch those ‘old jokes’ y’know. I have power ova you ‘gain, Becks,” he quips, wiggling his eyebrows at me while he does the worst impression of an evil laugh. 

I’m waiting for him to start choking on it so then I can finally laugh. 

His words try to propel me back to the times when I would take his words seriously, but I don’t dare go there. I can’t do that again after all of our random visits earlier this year, and how much they changed everything, including assuring me that he’ll never be that douchey boss to me again.

“Oh yeah!” I exclaim, something sparking inside of my brain. “You’re almost thirty! Ooooo, my prime joke time is coming up,” I squeal with a devilish laugh, rubbing my hands together as he shakes his head disapprovingly, although with reddening cheeks. My name leaves his lips in a breathy giggle as those dimples peek out from his cheeks, saying hi to me. 

“By tha way,” he begins once he recovers and has the bravery to look back at me. “‘m already sick o’ you, so you’ll be working with Myles fer tha week o’ February fourth. I have a case in Glasgow that entire week. Plus, he has an interesting case in Family Court that you should really see, it’ll be interesting.”

“Oh lovely, you’re already tired of me and passing me off to somebody else,” I groan, some dramatics playing in my voice, but not entirely. 

I wish I had a drink already so I could twirl my straw in it absently, trying to hide my heart-crushing disappointment. I remember he had said sometimes I may work with Myles or Rose for a case if there was something better elsewhere, but I didn’t think it’d be almost as soon as I started. Talk about anti-climatic, I ponder silently while my eyes stay glued to the menu, even though I’m not reading any words. There are too many whizzing around in my head for that to happen. 

“Stop it, you pout,” he teases, his hand ruffling my hair. I look up and do my best pout, puppy dog eyes, bottom lip sticking out and all. “‘m sorry t’ break yer heart, but ‘s fer yer best interest, Becks. ‘ve had tha case set up a while, which happens, and ‘ll already have started on it by tha time ya start, but you’ll still be able t’ help me. Myles’ case ‘s far mo’ interestin’ and you’ll learn loads from him. What, has sumbody missed me?” Harry hums, a hand dancing along my arm until it arrives at the crook of my neck where it touches my tickle spot. I squirm and jerk away from his ticklish touch, whimpering in annoyance. “C’mon, pout, let’s go and order.” 

I slide off of the hightop red barstool, following him to the counter begrudgingly and slowly. I mumble a question to him about what we’re getting and he automatically tells me that we’re getting the usual, as if there was another option. We get stuck waiting in a line and when Harry looks over to me, I play the pout extra hard. 

“What’re you still poutin’ ‘bout, Becks?”

“You’re passing me to Myles my second week back,” I whimper, crossing my arms over my chest. 

“Oh stop it, you’ll be fine. He likes you and he’s easy t’ get on with.”

“No fair,” I reply, looking away as the disappointment worsens inside of me. I know I’m being selfish, but I just want him all to myself. I figure that’s not too much to ask after everything that’s happened, but apparently it is. “I’m supposed to be your mentee, and I hardly get to work with you my first week there.” 

“Oh, baby Becks, you’ll do jus’ fine, love. My case ‘s incredibly boring, and tha travellin’ wouldn’t be any fun. I know you’ll miss me, that’s tha real reason yer sad,” he cracks, throwing his arm around my shoulder and pulling me into his side. The sudden wave of his woodsy-vanilla scent conflicts me as does the utterly adorable nickname he used. I want to stay there snuggled against his warm side, but at the same time, I want to pull away to prove my point. By now, I’m not sure how much of my pouting is dramatics or just the plain truth. I have to wait two weeks to work at the firm, just to be passed to Myles within five days. It’s discouraging to think about when my thoughts have been consumed by him in just the last few days, and I haven’t looked forward to something this much in a while.

“Hmmmph,” I respond, sufficing with turning away and not looking at him. I find it difficult to not think about what it would be like travelling with him for a case. My thoughts consist of those like sitting beside each other on a plane, hotel rooms, and sharing a car. Sure, Harry, you say it wouldn’t be any fun, but I’d beg to differ there, sir.

“Hey, don’t be that way with me. Ya still get t’ help me with it fer tha first week, and then ‘m all yers when I get back. Sound good?” he murmurs, rubbing his hand along my shoulder as he presses me to his side again. 

“Fine, only because you’re hard to stay mad at,” I respond with a sigh, soon hearing his melodic giggle that helps to weed away the disappointment wreaking havoc inside of me. 

“Good, coz ‘s only five days, bug,” he hums gently. The closer I am to him, the more I wish he would kiss the top of my head, like he used to do. Ugh. “Ya think ya can survive without me fer that long?”

“Yeah,” I tell him automatically, but quickly I’m unsure of that. I don’t know how well I’ll do with the tease of getting to work with him for a few days, and then having him leave again after that, if only for a few days. This is all turning out to be full of teases with my visits with him being peppered amongst the next few weeks. “It’s right after your birthday.” 

“Ya, happy birthday t’ me on that one,” he exhales, but I hear the smile even if I don’t see it right away. My sudden sadness is forgotten when ideas blossom inside my head of what to get him for his birthday, as he squeezes my shoulder. It’s also hard to ignore the fact that his arm is still around me, and the all consuming fact of never wanting it to leave. 

Soon, the line moves and with it, his arm falls from around me when Harry steps up to order for us. I make him take the plastic cups to fill up our drinks after I get my card out first to pay, him shaking his head as he waddles over to the soda machine. 

“If you’re going to be all sad about it, then you can pay for drinks, as long as it doesn’t get too expensive,” I tell him, listening to the whoosh of the orange liquid pouring into my cup. 

“‘ll pay fer all o’ ‘em, cheap or not,” Harry hums confidently, bumping shoulders with me softly on his way back to our table. 

We both slide off our coats to hang over the back of our chairs, and the chatter of other customers fills my ears as we sip at our drinks. My eyes quickly wander to the scarlet button up fastened just high enough to show his silver cross necklace, black floral designs covering the fabric. It pains me to look away from the thick dark brown chest hair blooming below the cross charm, unsure of when it was the last time I saw that.

“So, what have ya been up t’ since June?” he remarks, replacing the clear plastic straw between his cherry lips. I find it difficult to tear my eyes away to ruminate on his question enough to answer it without sounding stupid. 

“Um, pretty much just uni and working.”

“Oh ya, bloody hell ‘m dumb, ya jus’ graduated. How was it all? I wanna hear all ‘bout it, Becks - tha good, tha bad, and tha ugly,” he continues, warmth filling his lips as his green eyes stare back at mine. Sometimes the rawness inside of them is too much to handle and they take my breath away, every glint of gold and green in them. I’m not sure if you really know what you’re signing up for there, bud. 

“There’s not really much to say you haven’t heard before, or well, experienced yourself during your degree. It sucked at times, the Bar was awful although I feel like the worrying was worse than the exam, and I’m just really glad to be done and to finally have found a job. And, graduation was pretty gratifying,” I recall aloud to him, savoring how he devotes every second of his attention to me and what I’m saying. It’s both lovely and nerve wracking at the same time, especially as a thought pops into my head. I wish he could’ve been there in the stands, watching me walk the line, and hugging me afterwards. I wish . . 

“Ya, sounds ‘bout right. ‘m sorry ya didn’t have tha best experience, bug, but hey like ya said, ‘s ova. Onto bigga and betta things, like they say,” he smiles, and I swear it sparks something inside of my heart that has begun to return in the last couple of days. Something I’m finally ready to feel again. “Where’d ya do yer clinicals at and how’d they go this last Fall?”

“You’re right, and I did them at Turner and Jones over on the east side. They went well, but it was hard at times. It was a whole new place, and instead of sitting at a desk every day listening to lectures or doing assignments online, I was in the thick of it every day. I worked with just about all of their six lawyers there, and got to argue my first case with their help. I even won it, which was hard to believe. They were pretty great, and at the time I was sad I wasn’t able to find a job there, but now I’ve found my way back to you.” 

The way his lips curl up into his cheeks that round out from the expression feels good and hurts at the same time. It chips away at the wall around my heart that’s slowly been cracking ever since I laid eyes upon him again yesterday morning. 

“Bloody hell, ya make me mo’ and mo’ proud o’ you, y’know that? Great job, love . . That’s quite tha trek e’ry day t’ be drivin’ from tha west side ova t’ Turner’s. I bet yer glad t’ be done with that. ‘ve heard good things ‘bout ‘em, and a friend o’ mine even works there. I mean, ‘ve come up against many o’ em in my time in cases, but I respect ‘em,” he muses to me, stealing my idea to twirl the straw around in his ice chips and Coke. I feel the cracking of the barrier inside of my chest as his smile glows brighter in front of my eyes. It’s poised right at me. “Ya, funny how that works, huh? Kinda, ‘circle o’ life’ or sumthin, huh?” I mumble a confirmation, but the rest of my words are whisked away when his name is called from the counter where he escapes to. 

“I can’t believe n’body else was hirin’, that’s mad,” he notes, setting down the red plastic tray that hits the table heavily with wrapped food. “I can’t complain tho’, got tha best new associate I could ask fer.” Words escape me and leave a hot smile on my face as I pick up a hard-shelled taco, gratefulness etched into the lines of my lips. Boy, is he dreamy in so many goddamn ways. 

“What was your life like uh, recently?”

“Crazy busy, I was filled up tha arse with cases. I was in Scotland fer prolly a few weeks total, up in Edinburgh, Glasgow, then Birmingham, Liverpool, Manchester, and all ova London,” he answers, crinkling of the paper wrapper accenting his words. A pause follows his reply as he chews a bite of his soft-shelled taco, two more on the tray in front of him. The smells of cheese, queso, freshly fried tortilla chips, and the sweet churros make my taco taste one hundred times better. The nostalgia and absence only makes each bite taste better than the last. “I became an uncle again a few weeks ago, so that’s been pretty exciting. My sister, Gemma, had a li’l boy afta Christmas. Harper’s ova tha moon ‘bout him, his name ‘s Oliver or they call him Ollie.”

“Awwww, Harry, that’s so awesome! Babies are so much fun! How old is Harper now? I don’t think I’ve met her before, but I’ve heard loads. You should have your sister stop by the firm one day, I’d love to meet them!” 

“Ya, ‘course. ‘m sure they’d love t’ meet ya too, all three o’ ‘em. Speakin’ of, Harper will be four soon. It blows me mind,” he giggles, eyes drowning in the steaming container of queso he plunges a chip into with fingernails coated in pink polish. 

“What else, Mr. Lawyer?” I inquire simply, realizing my fault when he looks at me with confusion screwing up his features, chewing the cheesy chip noisily. “What else have you been up to besides work? Like, did you have a fun summer?”

“Ya, I reckon. I took my mum onn’a holiday down south, that was loads o’ fun. I had some good days at tha beach with Rory, who you’ll meet soon, he’s anotha one o’ me colleagues. He came t’ work at tha firm afta you had left, but ‘ve known him since uni. He’s prolly one o’ me best friends, that bloody idiot, but he’s loads o’ fun,” he responds, reaching for another chip and I take his lead, holding back a moan at the long forgotten taste of Pedro’s homemade queso. The enjoyment spills out of me when I spot the weary look stealing the happiness from Harry’s features as he zones out staring at the table. 

“What’s wrong, was it not the best summer ever?” I ask jokingly although softly, and as soon as the words fly from my mouth, I think I regret them for a few reasons. 

He hums an amused sound, tapping his finger against the side of his half eaten taco before his rosey pink lips part, “It was good, but it wasn’t tha best, by any means. I uh, dated this girl fer a bit, but it didn’t go anywhere. I mean, she was nice and pretty, but it was a mistake o’ sorts. I thought it’d make me happy datin’ her, but it didn’t,” he recalls sadly. 

At the first words about her, my eyes fall and I can look at him no longer, instead drawing shapes in the queso with my chip. I want to eat it, but a tight queasiness knits together in my stomach, and I wait for it to pass. I wait for him to stop talking about her, and for me to stop caring as the confliction runs deep within my bones. I can’t decide if I’m grateful or seething to hear the words that spill from his mouth. They bring me back to the summer from hell and also answers so many questions I’ve had. 

Girl, don’t even go there. 

Stay positive! 

Angel’s right, did you not hear how he said it wasn’t right for him? About how it was a mistake? Not to mention, that he wasn’t happy? 

Okay, you have some good points. 

No shit, Sherlock.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, bringing the chips to my lips. 

“Oh, ‘s fine, Becks. It was months ago, and ‘m ova it. Guess ‘m jus’ glad I realized early on it wasn’t workin’ fer me.”

“Yeah, that’s good,” I say softly, warm cheese and soft peppers tickling my tongue as many other words wish to do the rest. His revelation tries to sink underneath my skin, but I try to brush it away instead, not sure of what to do with it. I’m feeling both sides of the emotional spectrum at the mere mention of his relationship with her. I don’t know how to feel about it, and I don’t want to have to decide. 

“How ‘bout you, did ya meet anybody ova tha summer or I guess, tha fall?” Harry queries lightheartedly, and the surprise of it all pulls my eyes to his. The hints of anger left over from his confession melt away at the care I find in his eyes. Another feeling trickles in when for a second, I think I see an anxiousness hiding in the shallows. 

“God, no. Working, clinicals, and the Bar were more than enough for me. Skye’s the only person I really need,” I respond immediately, surprised at his question, although mutual. My word vomit seems to be biting me in the ass already, and quickly I wish I hadn’t phrased it that way. No, not when I want him to be my person. “What I mean is she’s my bestest friend besides Robbie, but nah, I don’t have much luck with guys.” 

I blink hard with hot cheeks as I finish my first taco and hastily grab another one, hunger and embarrassment fueling my actions. The shell is crunchy and anything but soggy between my lips, and the spicy signature sour cream is warm against my tongue as the cheese melts with every bite. 

“Sounds like we both got shit luck with love, huh?” Harry sighs, shaking his head as he grabs another taco. 

“Yep, it’s the worst,” I agree aloud after taking a sip of my soda, which turns out to be more noisy than I thought it would be. 

Thank God it’s empty so I can go and fill it up and escape this awkward fest, but at the same time there are so many words threatening to spill from my lips. They all basically revolve around the fact that I don’t care if I have shit luck with love, as long as my luck finally turns around for him, belatedly. 

[purplesurveys]

773

What’s the name of a song you’ve listened to a lot recently? Prepare for another Hayley answer folks. I’ve been listening to nothing but Petals For Armor this whole week – even lo-fi got a break :o – and Dead Horse is very easily my favorite track so that’s been racking up plays.

Are you texting anyone at this moment? No. I currently have a conversation with Gab on Messenger but replies on both ends are choppy because we’re doing our own thing.

Recently, who in your house has gotten on your nerves the most? It’d be a surprise if someone still doesn’t know the answer to this, but it’s my mom. We just have very different personalities and traits, and that is mostly because I have made it my life’s mission to not end up like her.

Think of the most recent time that you went out to eat with someone, who ended up paying? We split the bill, as we always do. That last time was in my favorite ramen place I now realize :( I miss the outside worldddddd.

Is there anything that’s been weighing on your mind as far as a decision your contemplating whether to act on or not? Explain. Everyday it’s always a mental battle whether I’m touching my thesis or not for that day. It’s such a big deal for me and there’s so much pressure to produce an excellent one that I’m always too scared to look at it, even if it is MY work.

What all has pissed you off today, if anything at all? My mom was making unbelievable statements about ABSCBN (the major network that the government pettily hates and demanded to shut down) and how they deserve the ordeal they’ve been going through...fucking unbelievable. I wasn’t going to let her slide so I offered up my arguments, but I felt her cowering and my suspicions were confirmed when she changed the topic. 

How often do you talk to the person you currently have feelings for? Well I’m already with her, so we talk pretty often throughout the day. It’ll decrease if we’re both super busy, but when it’s one of those days we make sure we at least talk when we wake up and before we go to bed.

When was the last time you couldn’t stop laughing? A Tiktok Angela shared with me. Holy shit it was so funny - it was of a girl going through Twilight and reading every single time Stephenie Meyer used the word ‘chuckled’ with a hilarious voice filter.

Out of all of your friends who have you gotten in the worst fight with? Explain what happened. I super hate having conflicts with people I’m close to, so I honestly can’t tell you an argument I’ve had with a friend even if I try racking my brain for one.

If you had $100 dollars, how would you spend it? I’d rather save it till I’ll have to go job-hunting. I’ll spend the money on gas to go to job interviews.

What’s something you would love to have happen right now? I just want the reassurance that I’ll end up in a good job eventually. This whole period waiting for graduation with nothing happening isn’t good for me, and with the lockdown still in place I’ll have to also wait till I can start legit applying for jobs, so these days I’m essentially just living with double the amount of anxiety I’d normally have.

You were given the opportunity to get a new cellular device, what do you choose? iPhone 11 Pro Max.

Which of your classes in school is most capable of killing a good mood for you? Business reporting. Before the quarantine, that class absolutely ruined my Fridays which used to be my favorite day of the week. I had a great teacher who opened every avenue possible to help us because it was objectively a difficult class, but that’s all I saw it as – difficult. All my other classes were okay.

How nice of a person are you, honestly? I’m super nice and am always that way with everyone. Though if I encounter someone with a behavior that I don’t like, like being a lousy co-worker or if they support the government lolol, I’ll be less nice but like still not an asshole. It’s a waste of time being a shitty person to other people.

What good things have happened today? My dad bought Pringles yesterday so I got to have them today and holy shit, they are so so good. It also wasn’t that hot today - weather was still awful of course, but at least I didn’t sweat through my shirt or have to breathe heavily, which is good enough for me.

Can you honestly say that at this point and time you’re happy with the way things are going in your life? Not yet, but I’ll get there.

Is there anyone of your preferred sex who tends to mess with your head? I don’t have a preferred sex.

What have you recently gotten the most compliments on? Honestly nothing. I haven’t been on social media lately because the country is shit and citizens are always saying stupid shit, so I haven’t talked to that many people lately.

When you get to go shopping for new clothes, where do you go to find your clothes? Feliz.

How do you feel about inter-racial couples? You do you. I don’t see anything wrong with it and besides, Filipinos marrying foreigners has always been a common sight.

Have you ever thought you were in love, and then realized later on that your feelings weren’t as strong as you had thought? No.

When will be the next time you travel out of state, where will you be going? I have no clue. All travel plans have been put on hold for a while, so I’ll have to wait until that eases out.

If I were to see you face to face, who would you more than likely be with? My dog.

What is one assumption people make of you, by just seeing you? That I’m grumpy. It’s not inaccurate at all, I definitely have a bit of a short fuse.

When deciding the significance of someone in your life, what is an important deciding factor? How much I can trust them, if we’ve had memorable times together, and if they have the ability to make me feel better when I’m down.

What is something that you have come to realize doesn’t work for you? Trying to have a rational disagreement with my mom. She will always handle conflict immaturely. I will always wonder why she has lasted this long without anyone calling her out on such a poor behavior.

Have you ever grown apart from someone, and then over time you came back into each others lives? Yeah dude, Gabie. I lost her for a while after our first breakup, which was technically two losses for me because she’s also my best friend. We grew apart for around four months but after that we reconnected, patched things up, and realized being friends wasn’t gonna cut it so we ended up dating again haha.

On a scale of 1 to 10 how shy are you? 12 for people I’m not close to, maybe a 6 for those I know well already.

Chose one quality of yours that has caused you problems, explain one situation where the quality was apparent. Mmm when I’m anxious or not having a good day overall, I tend to ignore everyone. I will open messages but not reply to anyone of them, and on the worst days I won’t reply even to the work-related messages. And if anyone asks me if I’m ok or not, it’s going to be seenzoned; if anyone sends me a meme, it’s going to be seenzoned, you get the idea.

I was having a rough time the other day when JM asked me to take over a task for the org, and while I had every intention of doing it, I a) didn’t reply to him, and b) didn’t feel like doing the task until after dinner. When I opened my laptop to get on the job, I already got a message from JM apologizing and saying he had to overstep and do the work himself because he didn’t get a reply from me and because I haven’t done the task yet. I can honestly that’s never happened before and as a perfectionist I was super disappointed in myself and I must’ve apologized to him a thousand times.

Is there something you should be doing right now, besides this survey? Taking a shower.

When was the last time you turned down making plans with someone, why did you? I think it was just that party with Rita’s sister’s DJ friend. I don’t normally turn down plans because I’m always game for anything lol.

Who did you last confide in, what did it involve? I was telling Gabie how much I hate the Mother’s Day posts from everyone on Facebook. I didn’t use Facebook last Sunday precisely because I wanted to avoid seeing any of them, but when I loaded my feed now they were still all over my timeline. I had had enough of waiting for them to go away, so I vented to her.