#if acton is one thing its stuck in the past

[kj-munch]

part of you never left

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-43)

Word count: 4.1K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Angst, mentions of PTSD, heartbreak, feels, fluff, spoiler warnings in the tags (it’s no biggie, but in case anyone wants to still check out ;))

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: This is one of the most crucial chapters for this series. I hope you guys like it cause it’s definitely a favourite of mine :)

The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23​​​​​​. Shout out to my best girl. I owe so much to you, Athina. You’re my sunflower <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

The crack in the ceiling was wider than you thought it would be, staring at you from up there, like a river and its rivulets, but disconnected from the source, dried up before reaching the sea that was its destination. Just aimlessly stuck in the middle.

There was an urgent knock on the door. Wiping your eyes, you called, “yeah.”

Madison poked her head through the door. “Can I come in?”

“Umm yeah, sure.”

You sat up in the bed.

Madison came to sit by you on the mattress. You didn’t look up at her, afraid she would see your swollen eyes. 

“I know you don’t like to share your problems with anyone,” said Madison. “But I’m here. Just in case you want to talk about what’s hurting you. I haven’t seen you out and about in a while, Y/N.”

Her voice was gentle. 

“I can’t tell you what’s wrong because I don’t know what it is myself.” 

“Is it about Sam?”

“It is and it isn’t.” Choosing not to elaborate, you drew into yourself against the headrest. This wasn’t about Sam. This was about you being unable to understand your own damn mind and it was hurting Sam- so much. The muteness of his eyes was haunting you… and then there was Max- the sweetest little soul in this world. Every time you thought about him, you wanted to all but break down. What was wrong with you? Because something had to be wrong if you couldn’t accept that boy with all your heart. 

You didn’t deserve to be a mother. This was why you could never be one.

“Come down for a bit,” said Madison, tone sympathetic. “All the guys are downstairs at Pam’s. She said something about ‘welcome to the apartment’ free pizza ritual.”

“You go on. I don’t feel like it.”

She looked like she wanted to insist, then decided against it. “If you change your mind, don’t forget your sweater. It’s a chilly evening.”

After Madison left, you couldn’t bear to lay in the bed. The crack in the ceiling was twisting your heart. Outside, the sky was darkening quickly, earlier than it should have.

Walking into the kitchen, you filled the coffee pot with water. Just as you were about to place it onto the machine, the doorbell rang. You knew in your gut who it was, just the way one knows what's coming when the sea starts to recede.

Sam looked distraught. Gone was the carefully concealed blank look from the day before. Today, he had abandoned all attempts to hide his emotions. He wasn’t dressed for work either. Just jeans and plaid, with a bunch of papers rolled in his hands.  

Without a word you stepped aside to let him in. Sam sat down on the sofa, looking about himself as if hoping that someone or something would save him from what was about to happen. Again, you simply knew.

“I messed up bigtime, didn’t I?” You whispered, taking a seat opposite him.

Sam, who was decidedly staring at the floor, shook his head. “You didn’t mess up anything, Y/N. You-” His voice broke and he visibly made an effort to speak again. “You tried harder than anyone should’ve had to… and God, this is going to kill me.”

“What is…?”

Sam braced himself. “I love you, Y/N. You have to know that. I would gamble my life away without a second’s thought if it meant I could spend even some of it with you as truly yours. To have you in my arms and not think about whether it’s the right thing to do. But I can’t gamble away Max’s life like that. He’s suffered so much already. I can’t have him start believing with all his heart that you’ll be his mother only for you to compromise. Worse, if a few months down the line, you decide you don’t want to do this, he’ll be shattered. I can’t do that to my boy.”

A single tear rolled down your cheek.

“I know you love him. I’d have to be blind not to see that. But I don’t know if you can love him without a doubt in your mind. I don’t want you to have to adjust into a mother’s role for him, if you aren’t ready. I know you- the guilt of it won’t let you breathe. And asking you to do that just so I could live out my fantasy of a perfect family… won’t be fair to you or Max.”

He flattened the papers in his hand on the table before you. One word glared out of it, strong and bold- Divorce. 

He took a ragged breath, then spoke in a fragile voice. “It’s still your decision to make- whether you want to sign these papers or not. If you do, we’ll walk out of your life this time. I haven’t committed beyond this semester to Stanford- another month. Take that time and decide what you really want.”

None of it was surprising you. Not his words, not his actions. Just like that tsunami, you had seen this coming the moment you didn’t respond to Max’s call. Still, the words weren’t sinking in. They were floating in the space between you and him.

“I promised to wait for you… I promised to give you all the time you needed,” he whispered. “That was a selfish promise. There’s nothing else for me now except that wait… but I can’t drag Max along.”

You mutely watched him draw out a pen from his pocket and start flipping through the pages, signing them as he went. The hard matt shadow of the pen scratched at the illusion like quality of the situation. The on and off gold glint pushed at the awareness further. You knew that pen. You knew that it was partly made up of obsidian and you knew the inscription on it- It’s not time to worry yet - Atticus Finch

Sam closed the papers shut and put the pen back in his pocket. You saw him swallow hard and raise one hand towards you in yearning, longing, before rigidly bringing it back to himself. He might have said something more, softly, eyes roving your face, but the words didn’t register, just the utter helplessness in his voice. With one last look, he got up from the chair and left.

The door banging on the frame made you flinch. 

It’s not time to worry yet.

It’s not time to worry yet.

We’ll walk out of your life this time.

Drops were beginning to fall on the balcony outside, getting bigger, hitting faster, water dripping down on your carpet through the open window. You sat there, looking at the papers in front of you, not making a move to close the shutters.

The shrill ringing of your phone made you jump up once more. Mechanically, still in a daze, you answered the call.

“Hello. Is this Ms. Y/N Y/L/N?” 

A pause.

“Hello?”

You answered. “Yes, speaking.”

The voice said, more relaxed. “I’m Melanie Hawthorn from Acton Griswold. This is regarding your application for the position of a paralegal at our firm. We are very pleased to offer you the said position. Please get in touch with the HR to set up a meeting to discuss the terms of employment. An email with the details is being sent to you shortly. Will you be able to provide me with a tentative date?”

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Uh… anytime this week is okay.”

“Thank you. We’ll be in touch.”

*Click*

It’s not time to worry yet.

We’ll walk out of your life this time.

Next second, you grabbed the papers on the table and then you were running, not caring that you were dressed only in your shorts and camisole, not caring that you were bare foot or that it was raining outside- only that with each passing second, Sam was walking away from you.

How many times had you done this to him? Ran away as he watched you go. Once? Twice? Thrice? And yet, here you were unable to bear a single step he took in the other direction. For once in your life you weren’t running away, you were running towards. 

Taking the steps two at a time, you ran, almost tripping on the last one, as you passed the safety of the awning and into the thundering rain, your feet slipped on the shabby pavers of the meadow. From here, you could see Sam, slowly walking past the statue, his shoulders were slumped, feet dragging, soaked through and through.

Splashing water with each step, you closed the distance between the two of you. Sam turned around at the last minute. His face made you falter. That was the look of a man who was being burned alive at the stakes. He looked at you and broke down- not tears, but sobs wracking his body. Sam collapsed on the parapet of the statue. The only other time you had seen him lose it completely was in the hospital, telling his brother how he couldn’t face you and tell you that you could never be a mother again. Only you could bring him down on his knees like this- then and now.

Sam put his face in his hands, sobbing into them- lost and broken. 

You stood over him, motionless.

“I know why you did it.” The words fell off your lips like cracks of thunder. Maybe low and muted, but with the same devastating power. “I know why you really drafted the papers.”

In your room upstairs, Sam’s defeated eyes had narrated a different story than his words. The words made sense, his reasoning perfectly logical- he wanted to protect his son from a woman who wouldn’t commit to being his mother. Except, you knew Sam. In the past few months, you had re-learned the workings of his soul. He would only pull something this drastic if he firmly believed it to be the only way to do right by both Max and you. No matter if it was at his own expense. The divorce papers weren’t an ultimatum, or a deadline as they appeared to be. They were Sam’s way of offering you an out from this situation with your dignity intact. He was shifting the blame of the failed marriage on himself, ready to face Max’s disappointment and anger, only so you wouldn’t have to live through the guilt of your choice. 

Max would see it in black and white. His father had decided to divorce you, just like his father had forbidden him from seeing you after the play-date. Max would yell and curse and be livid, but just like before, he would accept Sam’s decision and eventually forgive him for it. But if Max found out that you were the one unwilling to become his mother, he might never forgive you. With his last act, Sam was sparing you the pain of betraying Max, the pain of seeing the accusal in his eyes. How much exactly did Sam love you? Because this amount of love was unfathomable. It should’ve destroyed his mind! 

No one should have to make such a sheer sacrifice for being the good one. No one should have to suffer so much, so quietly. Especially not Sam.

“All these years that we’ve known each other, you’ve never let me thank you,” you said, only determination keeping your voice steady. “Not when you opened doors, or pulled chairs in restaurants, not when you held my hair as I threw up in the toilet at three in the morning because of sickness. You used to tell me we were married and it was your job to look after your wife. You said you weren’t doing me a favour and I stopped thanking you.”

Sam looked up finally, the rain making his tears invisible, but not his anguish.

“Then I saw you here… I can’t possibly tell you how it felt, seeing you in the class. Bumping into you in the corridor and knowing you still use the cologne I gifted, knowing you remembered the taste of my cookies. I was terrified of returning your coat back to you, scared that you’d outright banish me from your life. You brought me home when I was drunk, you pulled me out of the water when I could’ve died and held me through a night of torture. And you didn’t let me thank you for it. It wasn’t a favour, you said. It was your job.”

“But you did me one favour today, Sam Winchester,” you said, getting down on your knee on the coarse ground and holding up the drenched papers to him. “By giving me this, you did me the biggest favour of my life.”

Sam’s face was a mask of shock. You reached out and placed your hand against his cheek. “You showed me exactly what I stood to lose.”

The rain was falling mercilessly now, hitting your skin like shards, running down your bare arms in rivulets. 

“Chirp wasn’t the name of our baby… it was the name we gave to our hopes and dreams of the future. I felt that dream die inside me, Sam. I felt him go… and I swear if it wasn’t for you, I would have died that day with him. And that fear… of ever feeling like that again, it kept me under for so long. I was barely there… you kept more of me alive than I did, myself, through that cologne, the pictures… that pen! And you gave me the biggest joy I’ve ever known- that little boy.”

Silent tears glided down Sam’s eyes, still indistinct in the rain. He looked so vulnerable, as if the smallest of winds could shatter him.

“I was scared that I might lose him, Sam. Just like… our first baby. I couldn’t save him, and if anything ever happened to…” you shook your head, refusing to complete that thought. “I would die. Not even you could bring me back then…” Taking in a deep breath you continued. “By handing me the divorce papers, you just reminded me that if you leave with him, I can never lay a claim on Max. I’ll lose him either way… I’ll lose my little Chirp all over again, and I can’t do that. He’s my boy.”

Taking his face in both your hands, you gave him a little shake. “Max is my boy, you understand? He’s my little Chirp.”

“You… You’ll come back?” Sam spoke at last. The disbelief in his voice was painful.

Letting go off his face, you grabbed the wet papers in both your hands and tore them into four pieces. “I’ve been thinking I was jinxed all these years. I was so convinced that I never let your love sway me. But now I can see it’s not true. Because no one who’s jinxed would find someone like you! And I found you twice. I don’t need a damn month to figure this out. I know what I want. I want you! I want us.”

He shook his head, refusing to believe. Afraid to hope again.

You grabbed his face, forced him to look at you again. “I just got a call that I’ve been hired at Acton Griswold. You know what’s the first thing I wanted to do? The only thing I wanted to do? Was to run to you! Just like seven years ago, barefoot in the rain. You make me feel eighteen again.” 

You looked him deep in his anguished eyes. “I love you, Sam Winchester. I don’t know how you can’t see that. It’s in the whisper of my every breath, the subtext to my every word. And we… we’re still a lot like us, aren’t we? No, we’re better. We have Max now. We’re a family. Please… Please believe me.”

Sam slipped on the ground next you, on his knees and pulled you to him, crushing your lips against his. His strong arms corded against your back, slipping and sliding against the wet silk of your tank top. It had turned transparent, clinging to your body. 

“I believe you,” he whispered desperately against your lips. “God, I believe you.”

You tangled your fingers in his wet hair, kissing him like your life depended on it, the worry, uncertainties, ebbing away from your body, a fierce, wild joy replacing it.

“Say it, say it again, please,” Sam begged in a coarse, broken voice, but it wasn't hopeless anymore. It was ringing with the same ferocity that you felt.

“I love you, Sam. I love you so much.”

He made an animalistic sound and grabbed you by the hips, pulling you impossibly close, his lips fast and urgent against yours. 

Someone whistled loudly from behind.

Breaking off the kiss, you turned in the circle of Sam’s arms to see Kevin standing under the stilted awning of the building with a shit eating grin on his face. Others were slowly coming out from Pam’s apartment. 

You ignored him, threw your arms around Sam once more and began kissing him. He didn’t let go of you either… not until a shiver ripped through your body. As the high of the adrenalin came down, you suddenly began to feel the cold. Sam tightened his grip on you. 

“Oye! Get a room, you two!” Meg shouted. “C’mon, now! Keep it PG 13.”

“Don’t let go,” you pleaded.

“Not a chance,” said Sam. He put a hand under your knee and in one fluid motion hefted you into his arms, not breaking off the kiss.

More cat calls and hoots followed in the background. You could hear Jack howling with laughter, as Sam walked back towards the building carrying you.

“Oh, enough staring at those two,” Kevin said. “C’mon, get out there in the rain. You know the rules. Everyone who loses the bet has to get wet. That’s all of you bitches except Maddie and me. Out now!” 

He’d won the bet after all.

Pam blew a raspberry at him and climbed down the steps just as Sam passed her.

“Ah, the sweet, sweet taste of vindication,” Kevin gloated.

“Ah, the acrid, acrid stench of snobbery,” Meg hissed, following Pam. “Don’t go back to the flat anytime soon, Maddie.” 

You were hardly paying any attention, as Sam walked you up all the way to your flat. Once inside, you barely made it to the bathroom, before he had you pinned against the wall, lips still urgent, hands roving under your wet camisole. The sight of his closed eyes, the wetness of the rain and tears still clinging to his lashes was like a slow fire inside of you, burning low but not easing- the sweetest of torments. His fingers found the buckle of your bra and you felt him fumble with it, then hesitate.

You grabbed his hand behind your back and held it there. “Don’t stop. Please…”

“Y/N…” He groaned, the need acute to the point of a primal hunger in his eyes. You could see yourself in his lust-blown, dark irises- barely recognising that girl or the hoarseness of her voice as she begged. “Please.”

That was all Sam needed as he grabbed the edge of your top and tore it apart into shreds. At the same time you pushed back his shirt, and then tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head. Sam didn’t waste another minute before pulling you back into a kiss. He tasted like the wildness of the rain and the bitterness of coffee. 

You reached out behind you to unbuckle the bra and let it fall to the ground. Sam shuddered when you leaned into him next. skin touching to skin- wet and slick. “Y/N…”

He hoisted you on top of the bathroom counter. His hand slid down from your shoulders, over your breast, the thumb skating right across it and then further below into your shorts. You looked at him in the moment- a short second, an eternity- saying everything you ever wanted to without a word, listening to everything he wanted to say without a word. 

“I need you…” you whispered, head rolling back, chest heaving with loud, ragged breaths, as his pants fell to the floor in a heap of wet denim. He hooked his thumb into the waistband of your shorts and underwear, and tugged them down your legs in one motion.

He put his forehead against yours, catching a breath, bracing himself. This was it. Moulding his lips against your, and biting down on the bottom lip, he pushed inside. 

A whimper left your lips, the corners of your eyes starting to sting again. He was as essential to your existence as breath itself was to living.

It was hard and fast and desperate- your teeth scraping against his ears and jaw, fingers digging into his back, and biting his shoulders to muffle the screams. You didn’t say anything coherent except wanting him to go harder and faster… and being ecstatic when he did. You lost count of the number of times you called out his name- in yearning, in commands, in pleas and in prayers till you were both a tangle of bodies on the floor of the bathroom, coming down from the high together. 

The rain splattered on the glass panes and you held on to him… letting go now would be a sin. You didn’t know how long you stayed there. Eventually Sam lifted you again, walking you into the shower. Still together, the shower barely lasted five minutes. Once on the bed, he would have let you rest, but you didn’t have it in you to be separated from him now. It would cause physical pain.

So, you drew him back upon yourself. This time it was slow… lazy, languid... relearning the patterns and shapes of each other. You memorised the exact curve of his lips, the hardness of his abs, running your fingers through the soft smattering of hair on his chest. 

As for Sam? He was treating you like a mirage that could disappear any given instance now. It broke your heart that the slight wildness in his eyes wasn’t giving way to his usual calmth. The vulnerability of his every move made you want to weld yourself to him, body and soul, so he would never feel this way again- as if he was living on borrowed luck, that anytime now this could be snatched away from him. 

You must have told him you loved him several times in the course of the hour, and yet, each time you said it, you felt his heart jump up in his chest under your fingers. Sam. Your Sam.

It must’ve been hours later, when you heard the main door of the flat open and close. Your room was submerged in darkness, neither of you willing to move away first.

With a sigh, you raised yourself on your elbow to turn on the light, it bathed Sam in a warm glow. Bending down, you kissed the tip of his pointed nose, and then his eyelids, one by one.

“Max?” You said.

Sam cleared his throat before speaking. “He’s staying over at Jody’s.”

You frowned.

“I wasn’t expecting to be in any shape to look after him tonight,” he explained. “It would’ve been me and a bottle of scotch. Couldn’t have him see that.”

You kissed the hollow under his neck this time. “Will you do something for me?”

“Anything,” he promised.

“Don’t tell Max. I want to be the one to tell him.”

His galaxy eyes melted. “Of course. Whatever you want.”

“So you can stay tonight?” 

“If you want me to.”

It occurred to you that this wasn’t a one time thing. This was the rest of your life now. Sam was your husband. You had the right to keep him here with you for today and everyday. No more sneaking around, no more doubts. Just you, him and your little boy.

A surprised giggle bubbled up your lips and soon turned out into full laughter, tears rolling along the sides of your eyes.

“Something funny, Mrs. Winchester?” Sam asked, amused, his eyes soft.

You shook your head, burying your face in his chest. “Nothing. I love you.”

His heart skipped a beat again. You felt lips ghost over your hair. 

“I love you, too, Darling. More than life.”

*****************************

A/N 2: Sometimes one hard push is necessary to make people realise just what they might lose out on. I’ve edited and re-edited this chapter so many times, I’ve lost the count. It was the make it or break it chapter. It had to be worth it.

Hope you guys liked it as much I do <3

Please do let me know if you liked this part. Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated.

Adding the Gif credit here cause it won’t let me link it before the cut

Only two more chapters to go! :’)

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[cassandra-acton]

ORIGINS & FAMILY:

Name: Cassandra Alice Acton.

Nickname: Cassie, Cass.

Birthday: November 8th, 1986.

Age: 31.

Gender: Female.

Place of Birth: Oxford, Oxfordshire, United Kingdom.

Places Lived Since: London, United Kingdom.

Current Residence: Tower Hamlets, London, United Kingdom.

Nationality: British. 

Parents: Michael and Anita Acton (née Redgrave)

Grandparents: Edward Acton (grandfather, paternal, deceased) Renske van Ardenne (grandmother, paternal) Harold Redgrave (grandfather, maternal, deceased)  Hélène de Broglie (grandmother, maternal, deceased) 

Aunts & Uncles: Kathleen Acton-Fortescue (aunt, paternal) Charlotte, Georgina Redgrave (aunts, maternal) Lambert Redgrave (uncle, maternal)

Number of Siblings: One older sister, Elizabeth Acton.

Relationship With Family: To be honest, she doesn’t really have a relationship with anyone except Elizabeth, and her mother tainted it so much that even that one isn’t healthy. It’s a shame, really. As much as she knows she’s better off without them, she still misses her father, in particular. Cassie definitely envies people who are close to their parents.

Happiest Memory: When Harrison proposed to her, without a doubt. I’ll write about it someday. Getting her internship at Goldman is definitely second, though.

Childhood Trauma: I mean the parents definitely fucked her up for life, so there’s that.

PHYSICAL:

Height: 5'4”

Weight: 120lbs.

Build: Slim but very fit.

Hair Color: Blonde.

Usual Hair Style: Whilst working, she almost always wears her hair up in a ponytail, but she hates it. Much prefers to have it down. Keeps it just a little longer than shoulder length because of her dislike of short hair. Is too lazy to style it beyond neatness unless she’s going somewhere.

Eye Color: Blue.

Glasses? Contacts?: Neither.

Style of Dress/Typical Outfit(s): For work: neat, formal, and inexpensive. Lots of form-fitting skirts, blazers and blouses in blacks and whites. Out of work: a fuck load of jeans. Baggy jumpers and quirky shirts. Picks up a lot of her stuff from charity shops because who has time for fucking shopping.

Typical Style of Shoes: Cassie is never without heels. Prefers bright colours and eye-catching designs to contrast with her typically monochrome/ greyscale outfits during work. About the only part of her outfits she ever spends a decent amount of money on.

Jewellery? Tattoos? Piercings?: The only piece of jewellery she constantly wears is her engagement ring, which she has on a chain around her neck. She has three tattoos. ‘Hip to be Square’ in tiny font on the inside of her right wrist, Harrison’s birthday on her left shoulder blade, and a matching tattoo she got with her friend, Jessica, back in school, on her right forearm. Each got a hand from The Creation of Adam. As for piercings, she has her left ear pierced twice, her right four times, as well as her bellybutton.

Scars: A thin scar that cuts through her right eyebrow; a result of a drunken night out in university during which one of her friends fell down the stairs, and dragged Cassie with her.

Unique Mannerisms/Physical Habits: When she’s stressed, she has to play with her hair; pulling it, twisting it, whatever. It’s about the only good indicator she’s about to rip your face off because she will do that shit with a smile.

Athleticism: Very high. Cassandra naturally has a lot of energy, and so expends a lot of it keeping fit. Rowed competitively for LSE, and still competes regularly with many of the girls from her old crews, as well as having joined a new rowing club. She also plays a lot of rugby, though never competitively. Loves running and endurance, and almost always competes in the Tough Mudder when it’s nearby, as well as taking part in the London marathon annually. Also gets involved with a lot of charity races.

Health Problems/Illnesses: I think she seriously wavers into depression sometimes, though she’s far too proud to ever get it officially diagnosed. PCOS and all its friends, which is not a fun time. Does over attachment to her dog count? Definitely counts.

INTELLECT:

Level of Education: MSc in Economics and Management from LSE. Cassie finds studying relaxing, however, and often self-teaches about subjects of interest in her free time. Currently, she is working on a course in Arab Finance.

Languages Spoken: English natively, Dutch fluently. French and Mandarin intermediate. Is determined to take up learning Arabic at a later date.

Level of Self-Esteem: Very low. It’s why she aggressively overcompensates with an arrogant attitude. Partly to convince herself, but mostly to convince others.

Gifts/Talents: Surprisingly, she’s actually a pretty good violinist.

Mathematical?: Definitely. It’s sort of her thing. 100% could get a job on Countdown.

Makes Decisions Based Mostly On Emotions, or On Logic?: Usually, emotions, though she tends to berate herself afterward, because she knows—especially given the career she has now chosen to pursue—that she needs to learn to be more logical.

Life Philosophy: Someone else is happy with less than what you have.

Religious Stance: Was raised Anglican, but isn’t particularly religious.

Cautious or Daring?: Absolutely daring. Naturally, she’s a spontaneous person, and I     don’t think being cautious really lends to that.

Most Sensitive About/Vulnerable To: Being told she’s not good enough. Being criticised when it comes to her work. Being compared to her sister. People bringing up what happened to Harrison. Terrorism in general.

Optimist or Pessimist?: In between, leaning slightly toward the pessimistic side.

Extrovert or Introvert?: Extrovert.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Current Relationship Status: In a relationship with Adam Hassan, Shadow Health Secretary, and MP for Bethnal Green & Bow.

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual.

Past Relationships: Before Adam, the only person she’d ever been in a real relationship with was Harrison. They on-off dated their whole young lives. They briefly broke up when he joined the army and she went to university because they were worried about ‘distance’ but wound up missing each other too much for it to be a permanent thing. Dated one guy briefly, Matt, a few years after his death, but it scared her so much it took her until Adam to try again.

Primary Reason For Being Broken Up With: None.

Primary Reasons For Breaking Up With People: Not having moved on.

Ever Cheated?: No.

Been Cheated On: Not really. Unless you count that one time, by Harrison, when they were little kids. He kissed another girl on the playground because Cassie had been off school for a week. She pouted and promised she’d never date a boy ever again after that.

Level of Sexual Experience: Cassie’s slept with five people in her life, so limited-ish. Harrison, a brief fling during her first year of university, Matt, Silas, and Adam.

Story of First Kiss: His name was Richard and she only kissed him because all of the other girls wanted to.

Story of Loss of Virginity: The first time she and Harrison tried, they’d attempted to make it a ‘romantic evening’ that wound up being so awkward, they couldn’t stop laughing. Eventually, it happened spontaneously at a school social after party.

A Social Person?: Absolutely. Even though she needs some time to herself every now and again to process all the shit that’s going on in her life, she couldn’t go any extended time without her friends. Cassie has to be in a pretty bad place to cut herself of from people.

Most Comfortable Around: Jessica, and her old work friends at Goldman—they’re the people she’s closest to, and are still like a family to her.

Oldest Friend: Jessica Mirzoyan, a friend she grew up with in Oxford that now also lives in London. She can’t remember a time in her life when Jessica wasn’t in it, they’ve known each other for so long. Basically a sister to her.

How Does She Think Others Perceive Her?: Cassie has an incredibly skewed view of what people think of her. She automatically assumes people think the worst. Look at her like she’s not good enough, just like her mother always did. I think that’s why she keeps most people at arm’s length, because she’s so scared of letting someone in only for them to wind up criticizing her.

How Do Others Actually Perceive Her?: Depends who you ask. Amongst the public she’s very popular for her honesty. Amongst her colleagues back at Goldman she’s respected as a professional cutthroat. As for her critics, they probably just see her as a stuck up bitch.

SECRETS:

Life Goals: To help as many people through her political and charitable work as possible. That’s really all she cares about. Personal goals seem fairly irrelevant to her right now. 

Dreams: To be happy again would be rather nice.

Greatest Fears: Polystyrene and spiders. Why do either of those things exist?

Most Ashamed Of: How bitter losing Harrison has made her. How she still hasn’t been able to get over the anger and the hurt it left her with.

Secret Hobbies: Cassie kind of loves to knit? It’s a good stress reliever when she’s too tired to go running. Not that she’d admit to it, mind you. She’s also not very good. All she can make are the really simple scarves.

Crimes Committed (Was she caught? Charged?): None.

DETAILS/QUIRKS:

Night Owl or Early Bird?: Night owl. Begrudges being alive in the mornings.

Light or Heavy Sleeper?: Heavy sleeper.

Favorite Animal: Hedgehog.

Favorite Foods: Steak. Cheese and crackers. Orange jelly.

Least Favorite Food: Avocado.

Favorite Book: American Psycho – Bret Easton Ellis.

Least Favorite Book: The Great Gatsby – F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Favorite Movie: Burn After Reading. Gladiator. Mars Attacks!

Least Favorite Movie: Shitty horrors in general.

Favorite Song: Mr. Roboto – Styx. If you play that to her, she doesn’t just sing along, she fucking performs it, okay. (Honourable mentions for The Boys Are Back In Town – Thin Lizzy, and What Is Love – Haddaway.)

Favorite Sport: Rugby. Cassie can get pretty shouty about rugby and is a very dedicated Saracens fan.

Coffee or Tea?: Tea.

Crunchy or Smooth Peanut Butter?: Neither, thank you. That stuff is nasty.

Type of Car She Drives: A dark green Mini Cooper.

Lefty or Righty?: Lefty.

Favorite Color: Pink.

Cusser?: Pretty badly, although she does well to hold her tongue in public most of the time. Has had a few slip-ups that made the headlines. Luckily the general opinion was that it made her seem more normal, and it went down pretty well with voters, if not her critics.

Smoker? Drinker? Drug User?: Never used drugs. Occasionally smokes if she’s incredibly stressed and has been drinking. Drinks fairly regularly.

Biggest Regret: Letting her parents fuck her up so badly. Cassie wishes that she hadn’t taken it so much to heart, now that she knows better.

Pets: The love of her life, Brody the Corgi.

[internetbasic9]

Business Why Instagram’s founders are resigning: independence from Facebook weakened

Business Why Instagram’s founders are resigning: independence from Facebook weakened Business Why Instagram’s founders are resigning: independence from Facebook weakened https://ift.tt/2DrZwzR

Business Facebook promised Instagram autonomy, but reduced it over time leading to today’s bombshell revelation. Eight years after launching Instagram and six years after selling it to Facebook, Instagram co-founders CEO Kevin Systrom and CTO Mike Krieger are leaving the company, according to The New York Times. The founders apparently did not give a reason for their departure when they informed the company today that they’re resigning and that they’ll depart in the next few weeks. Why? But according to TechCrunch’s sources, tension had mounted this year between Instagram and Facebook’s leadership regarding Instagram’s autonomy. Facebook had agreed to let it run independently as part of the acquisition deal. But in May, Instagram’s beloved VP of Product Kevin Weil moved to Facebook’s new blockchain team and was replaced by former VP of Facebook News Feed Adam Mosseri — a member of Zuckerberg’s inner circle. “Adam is a very strong-willed individual” said a source, and “Chris [Cox, Facebook’s Chief Product Officer] and Kevin never really got along.” Between the two, they could pressure Instagram to do more for Facebook — which was important given the impact of scandals and dwindling teen usage on Facebook’s brand. “When Chris started taking initiative and with Adam as more of the old-school in-crowd of Facebook, it was clear that it wasn’t going to be pleasant. I saw that this guy [Systrom] is gonna get squeezed.” Systrom and Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg had historically gotten along, but they had diverging opinions at times. A source said that a few times a year they’d clash before resolving things. Those clashes included “Sharing back to Facebook. Kevin wanted to keep the sharing on Instagram but at some point Mark wanted content production on Instagram to flow to Facebook. But things got more heated lately. “Recently Mark decided to pull all of the links to Instagram from Facebook.” The evidence of that standoff can be seen in Facebook, which last year confirmed it was adding a shortcut to Instagram to its bookmarks menu. That shortcut has since disappeared. This year, some Instagram users started getting both Facebook alerts inside their Instagram notifications tab, and seeing a Facebook button with red notification counts inside Instagram’s settings menu. Facebook removed the shortcut to Instagram from its bookmarks menu, as seen in the second line here The stress imposed by Facebook also manifested in other departures. Earlier this year, Instagram’s director of public policy Nicole Jackson Colaco quietly departed the company, according to a source. She’d served in the role since 2013 and as a Facebook privacy manager since 2009. Despite still listing herself as employed at Instagam on LinkedIn, Colaco subtly confirmed her departure by commenting on Krieger’s departure post that “IG was the best place I’ve ever worked”

And two weeks ago, Instagram’s COO Marne Levine who was known as a strong unifying force, went back to lead partnerships at Facebook. Without an immediate replacement named, Instagram started to look more like just a product division within Facebook. And without Levine, it’s unclear who’d be fit to lead Instagram other than Zuckerberg loyalist Mosseri. Our source says that “Mosseri was very disappointed that he didn’t get the ‘head of Facebook’ gig which went to Will Cathcart. VP Of Product at Instagram was kind of a consolation prize.” But they say his assignment to Instagram VP was Zuckerberg doing “succession planning for Kevin and Mike. Mark is a brilliant strategist and of course he’s going to want to install someone. Despite rumors about a potential departure, Instagram staffers were surprised and saddened to hear Systrom would leave. “Kevin left some big shoes to fill” a source says. “There’s some internal skepticism about whether Adam can fill the role.” Facebook has begun invading Instagram with alerts in its settings sidebar (left) and notifications tab (right) After growing the app to 1 billion users, conquering its archrival Snapchat, turning it into a massive advertising business, Instagram’s founders may feel that they’ve done their duty and are ready to tackle different challenges. And rather than fight through Facebook’s impositions, they’d rather go build something new. In a statement (and Instagram post), Systrom and Krieger wrote that “We’re planning on taking some time off to explore our curiosity and creativity again. Building new things requires that we step back, understand what inspires us and match that with what the world needs; that’s what we plan to do.” Zuckerberg gave his own statement to TechCrunch, stating “Kevin and Mike are extraordinary product leaders and Instagram reflects their combined creative talents. I’ve learned a lot working with them for the past six years and have really enjoyed it. I wish them all the best and I’m looking forward to seeing what they build next.” CEO Kevin Systrom still gives final approval of all ads on Instagram Krieger And Systrom’s Rise The pair, former Stanford classmates, originally built a social location app Burbn but discovered its photo filters were by far the most popular part of the app. By combining tools to make grainy photos from early smartphone look good with a social feed for sharing them, Instagram became perhaps the world’s most succesful mobile app. Deemed such a threat, Facebook spent $715 million to acquire the startup and its less-than 50 million monthly users. Supercharged by Facebook’s engineering team, Krieger could finally rest a little after spending years fighting server fires in attempts to manage Instagram’s meteoric growth. Sales, internationalization, anti-spam, and other resources from Facebook let Instagram fuel its growth and sprout an advertising business.

The moment of truth for Instagram came in late 2016 with the launch of Stories, a clone of Snapchat’s trendy ephemeral sharing feature. At the time, Systrom admitted “they deserve all the credit”. But by jamming Stories atop the already-thriving Instagram feed, sorting them to show your best friends first unlike Snapchat, and focusing on performance in developing countries Snap neglected, the copycat soon surpassed the original. Instagram Stories now has 400 million daily users compared to 188 million on Snapchat’s whole app. Instagram’s Legacy During those six years, Instagram also had its share of troubles. Cyberbully became rampant, leading the company to eventually invest heavily in artificial intelligence and human moderators to keep the app clean. Russian military operatives spread misinformation and propaganda on Instagram that reached 20 million Americans, implicating the company in an election interference scandal that will continue through the upcoming mid-term elections. Instagram CEO Kevin Systrom unveils IGTV at the glitzy June 20th launch event Facebook had largely allowed Instagram to run independently. Systrom and Zuckerberg worked closely, yet Instagram wasn’t forced to drown its users in cross-promotion for other Facebook products or make worrying privacy decisions. As Mosseri moved in and Facebook wanted Instagram to pull its weight, its autonomy was endangered, leading to disagreements between the two factions’ leaders. The departure follows fellow Facebook acquisition WhatsApp’s founders leaving under much more grim circumstances. Brian Acton cited Facebook privacy concerns amongst reasons for his departure, tweeting “Delete Facebook” amidst one of its recent scandals. Facebook has gradually moved to exert more control over all of its acquistions. Chris Daniels, head of Internet.org, was moved to oversee WhatsApp. And Oculus was moved under the purview of Facebook’s head of hardware Andrew “Boz” Bosworth, another long-time confidant and Harvard classmate of Zuckerberg. Together, the moves seemed to endanger the independence of the conglomerate’s biggest acquisitions by appointing Facebook loyalists at the top. Without Systrom and Krieger, Instagram could see its autonomy dwindle. That might in turn endanger its ability to recruity retain talent.

Perhaps the strongest legacy of Systrom and Krieger will be how Instagram changed global culture. It made non-artists feel creative, and let people give friends a window into their world, engendering empathy and friendship. An early, heavily-filtered photo of the two founders At the same time, a desperate lust for Likes led many people to manicure their online image while hiding their sorrows and vulnerabilities. Instagram became the premier venue for success theater, where people engender health-harming envy in others by showing off just their most glamorous moments. And when Instagram launched Stories to try to get users to share more than just their life highlights, it ended up normalizing the behavior of interrupting every special moment with their smartphone camera. Systrom took a stand on the digital well-being issue, saying “We’re building tools that will help the IG community know more about the time they spend on Instagram – any time should be positive and intentional . . . Understanding how time online impacts people is important, and it’s the responsibility of all companies to be honest about this. We want to be part of the solution. I take that responsibility seriously.” Perhaps Systrom and Krieger’s next project will seek to offset some of the distortions to society caused by their creation. Or they could take another shot and bringing people together through the lens of art and self-expression. Instagram rose to dominance in part because they stuck around to keep its culture and product distinct from the company that bought it. Like their app encourages, Systrom and Krieger saw the potential for art where no one else did. This article has been updated with context from sources regarding why the founders are leaving, and with their official statement.

Read More | https://ift.tt/2NDHjDZ | Josh Constine

Business Why Instagram’s founders are resigning: independence from Facebook weakened, in 2018-09-25 07:44:25

[netunleashed-blog]

Musical differences – meet the people whose romantic relationships were torn apart by pop

http://www.internetunleashed.co.uk/?p=36144 Musical differences – meet the people whose romantic relationships were torn apart by pop - http://www.internetunleashed.co.uk/?p=36144 You meet a new person. Everything about them is perfect. Then they pick you up in their car and they're rocking out to a Nickelback CD. What do you do? You may very well dump them, finds Nick Levine Any music lover knows that when you start dating someone, you want them to like the same kind of stuff as you do. One of my boyfriends infuriated me endlessly by insisting that my absolute favourite pop star, Madonna, was “past it” and “overrated”. I always took great pleasure in seeing him lose his shit whenever he’d had a few drinks and ‘Like A Prayer’ or ‘Hung Up’ came on in the club. Another former boyf heard an album I really love, Siobhán Donaghy’s cult classic ‘Ghosts’, and said he’d rather listen to “I dunno, Hayley Evetts”. You probably don’t know who Hayley Evetts is because she’s a singer who came fifth on Pop Idol in 2002. Hayley Evetts! I’m getting angry again now just thinking about it, and this is a conversation that happened about 10 years ago. Still, I’m not sure I’ve ever had it as bad as these music fans, who all had a relationships full-on ruined by a partner’s incompatible music taste. Read on and think yourself very, very lucky. The one in an intolerable hip hop/rock fusion band Kim, London: “Pretending to like his band’s music became a chore” “I’d been in London for about four or five months when I met this guy on a dating site. Actually, one of his profile photos showed him playing the drums, which for a young music journalist was really appealing – we had shared interests and he had good arms! So we started dating and at first it was cool going along to his gigs, but I was really into Girls Aloud and Charlotte Church at the time, so his band’s hip-hop/rock fusion didn’t really appeal to me very much. I always had to pretend to like his music and it just got to the point where I couldn’t do it any more. Forcing myself to listen to the CD he gave me and going to his shows all the time just sucked the fun out of the relationship. It ran its course for other reasons too, but the huge divide in our music taste was a major part of it breaking down. I ended things, drunk, at a bus stop in Acton.” The one who spoiled my favourite song Lars, Brighton: “He sang ‘Call The Shots’ by Girls Aloud very loudly and very out of tune as often as possible” “I used to go out with someone who sang ‘Call The Shots’ by Girls Aloud very loudly and very out of tune as often as possible. Looking back, I think that might be the main reason we split up. I still can’t listen to that song to this day. He knew how painful I found it hearing him sing that song, and as our relationship deteriorated he’d sing it right in my face to wind me up. That said, maybe this isn’t so much a ‘taste in music’ thing as it’s a ‘him being a cunt’ thing.” The one who didn’t like any kind of music. At all.  Scott, Glasgow: “He said that when he went to clubs, he just danced because he was out” “I once dated a guy who didn’t listen to music. Like, at all. I met him in a club, fancied the hell out of him and thought I wasn’t in with a chance. But I ended up going home with him – something I wasn’t used to – and it was all good, so I stuck around the next day and being a massive music fan, tried to talk about my favourite bands and singers. But he barely responded and just seemed bored. We went on a few dates and I tried to get him into the stuff I had on in the car, but he wasn’t interested at all. I just couldn’t understand why someone wouldn’t even have, like, a go-to band. He said that when he went to clubs, he just danced because he was out and had no idea what anything was. Eventually I was just like, ‘No pal, sorry, we have nothing in common!’ And that was that.” The one who didn’t respect Luther Vandross Anna, London: “I was incredulous and  angry. He had to go.” “I had a very hot boyfriend who I felt a major sexual attraction to. We dated on and off for about eight months, and even went on holiday together. But one day he said he didn’t like Luther Vandross and his posturing ‘ladies’ man’ style. I pointed out that Luther was in fact gay and suggested that my boyfriend check out his fantastic cover of ‘A House Is Not A Home’. He replied that he didn’t like Burt Bacharach, which left me incredulous and really made me angry, so obviously he had to go. I also mentioned that Teddy Pendergrass was more of a ladies’ man, at least on stage, but that just went over his head altogether.” The one who listened to Disney songs Clara, Margate: “She told me she couldn’t stand Kate Bush’s voice” “I dated a girl for a while in uni who had the worst taste in music. Actually, we were never an item or anything, but we did kind of hang out and hook up for a few months and it was always quite fun. Anyway, all she would listen to was Disney songs or the most basic pop songs – I’m not a snob or anything, I love Little Mix and Dua Lipa, but literally she would only ever put on the most generic radio shit. One day she came round to mine to watch a film and I was playing Kate Bush songs on Spotify. She literally winced as she walked into the room and heard the song, which I think was ‘Babooshka’. She explained that her mum was a big Kate Bush fan and played loads of her music when she was growing up, but personally she could never stand her voice. I was like, how could someone who grew up listening to Kate Bush not fall in love with her? By this point I’d already realised me and this girl didn’t really have very much in common, but slagging off Kate Bush was probably the final straw. We only hung out one or two more times after that.” The one who liked dadrock Callum, Staines: “He was a Rufus Wainwright stan” “When I was at uni I dated a guy who was very dashing but kept saying he “wasn’t into gay music” – by which he meant anything that was “too pop”. I tried to convert him with some success – I know he liked coming to a Robyn gig with me during her ‘With Every Heartbeat’ era. But his love of Rufus Wainwright and all manner of dad rock pretty much sealed his fate. Well, that added to his tendency to slag off Girls Aloud whenever possible. At his core he was a Rufus Wainwright stan and that became exhausting for me – by the end it just wasn’t worth the sex.” The one who didn’t become a goth Jasmin, London: “I still feel sad about what happened. I actually really like Mariah Carey” “We’d been best friends all through primary school, and had a shared love of Kylie and Sonia thanks to daily after-school discos on our Fisher Price tape decks. But when I got into the local grammar school we were separated and I went down a dark path of being a wannabe goth. We stayed BFFs for a couple of years but our shifting musical tastes just proved too much for our friendship to cope with. She got massively into Mariah Carey, but I started listening to Nirvana and Hole and any old generic grunge music. I think it really highlighted how far we’d grown apart and really, it was more than our relationship could take. I still feel sad about what happened, especially as I actually really like Mariah Carey!” The one who hated Belle & Sebastian James, London: “I still hate Belle & Sebastian to this day” “I once went back to someone’s after a date. And this was the date – you know, the date before we spent the rest of our lives at organic farmers’ markets together. As he leaned in, I said, ‘Actually, could you change the radio? I really like you and that’s Belle & Sebastian and I know it sounds weird but I really, really hate Belle & Sebastian.’ He just froze and said: ‘They’re my favourite band.’ Not unreasonably, he then threw me out. It was mad, really, but I remember thinking at the time, ‘He’s going to kiss me and we’re going to be together forever and I don’t want my memory of this magical moment to be the fucking boy with the fucking Arab strap.’ I still hate Belle & Sebastian to this day.   Source link

[fadingfartconnoisseur]

London at Night: A Few Fun & Unusual Ways to Enjoy the City After Hours!

Maybe you’re a night owl, maybe you’re jet-lagged, or maybe you’re a Londoner who is stuck in a rut of watching Netflix in your pyjamas and you need to get out! Well, lucky for you, there are plenty of ways to experience London at night ranging from themed bars to board game cafes, and cool gigs to late night eats, so today I’m giving you a few reasons to get out and enjoy London’s one-of-a-kind offerings!

Cahoots

Hop on the underground for a ride back to the 1940s

Cahoots is set in 1940s London and it’s also themed like the Underground; the walls are covered in maps of the stations, the tables are set up to look like you’re riding the tube, and drink pay homage to the post-war era. In other words, this bar is about as close as you’re going to get to time travel!

But finding Cahoots requires a bit of a watchful eye. To reach the entrance you’ll have to walk down a narrow little lane where the only clue is a sign that reads “to the trains”. You’ll know you’re there when you spot two bouncers in suspenders, rolled up sleeves, one with a poor boy cap and the other with sleeked back hair standing at the door. Hipsters? Perhaps, but I like to think they’re chaps from the 40s who hold the keys to the past.

They’ll show you the entrance to the underground, where you’ll have to descend a set of stairs with tiled walls, and at the bottom, you’ll turn left where you’ll likely meet a girl sporting Victory rolls and bright red lipstick. She’ll take you to your table and hand you a newspaper to browse – this is your drink menu.

On the night I visited, The Femmes were playing. They sang tunes by the Andrews Sisters and a few ‘futuristic’ tunes from the 80s and 90s tracks, and it was a grand ol’ time! Their songs had me tip-tapping my feet and snapping my fingers as I swung along to the music.

Address: 13 Kingly St, Carnaby, London

Opium

Sip on zodiac drinks in a secret den

Speaking of secret themed bars, let me tell you about Opium!

This bar is located in Chinatown, but finding it isn’t that easy! The entrance is located behind an unmarked jade-coloured door, and it’s such an unassuming and residential-looking entrance, that it’s really easy to miss. The only clue is a small gold plaque to the left of the door with the name Opium on it, so keep your eyes peeled.

Once you’ve found the door and been admitted, you have to climb several flights through a burgundy staircase. A white sign in English and Chinese characters indicates to keep climbing, so just follow it to the very top. Here you’ll find yourself in a poky attic space that’ll throw you back to London’s opium dens heydey. The ceilings are low, the floors uneven and creaky, and the whole place has a speakeasy vibe.

A post shared by Opium Chinatown (@opiumchinatown) on Sep 12, 2016 at 11:36am PDT

And you know what’s the coolest thing about Opium? They serve up drinks based on the 12 Chinese zodiac signs. How intriguing! It’s okay if you’re not too familiar with your sign because a quick flip through the menu will help you find your drink based on the year of your birth. I’m a 1987 baby, which means I’m the Year of the Rabbit.

When my drink arrived at the table, it was in a glass shaped just like a white-rabbit, which I thought was a really fun touch. Some of my friends had also ordered drinks based on the year of their birth, so we had goats and rats at the table.

A post shared by Opium Chinatown (@opiumchinatown) on Jun 26, 2017 at 5:14am PDT

However, if there’s one drink that’s the piece de resistance, it would have to be the Year of the Dragon. This drink is set ablaze and fire flashes before your eyes for a millisecond, before it is snuffed out and you are presented with your drink. Talk about a spectacle!

Oh, and did I mention that Opium is also a dim sum parlour where you can order up har gau (king prawn dumplings), siu mai (pork and prawn dumplings), char siu bau (barbecue pork buns), and more! It makes for a memorable night out in London, that’s for sure.

Address: The Jade Door, 15-16 Gerrard St, London

Flight Club

Try your hand at darts in a pub-themed bar

If themed bars are your thing, I have another one for you: Flight Club! This bar puts a twist on your traditional English pub and it also adds social darts into the equation.

How it works is that you book an area called an ‘oche’ where you can enjoy multi-player games with friends. The whole system is computerized, so all you have to do to set it up is snap a silly selfie at the beginning, add your name, and then the points are tracked for you – kind of like bowling!

Oh, and fun fact: they recruited someone who used to work at NASA to help them build this system so that players could focus on enjoying the game and not have to worry about doing math like with old-fashioned darts.

Now I’ve never played darts before, but I really got into it and I even managed to come in second in one of the games. Not bad for a first-timer! I’d also like to mention that they serve some pretty good thin crust pizza here! After a few rounds of games and drinks, we were starting to get a bit hungry, so we got a few of their pizza paddles to share.

Address: 55 New Oxford Street, London

Draughts

Play some board games in cozy cave-like cafe

If you’re looking for something a bit more chill, London has that too!

I’m all about going to themed cafes, so I was more than a little excited to visit Draughts, a board game cafe that boasts over 800+ games.

A post shared by Draughts London (@draughtslondon) on Feb 29, 2016 at 5:54am PST

The cafe is set in a railway arch in the heart of Hackney, which makes it feel super cozy – almost like you’re hanging out in your very own cave. At the back of the room, they have a library of sorts where you can choose a game, though that’s easier said than done when you have so many options. That’s where the staff comes in; they know their catalogue like the back of their hand and they’ll also teach you how to play any of the games they have!

That’s how I ended up playing Hive, a strategy game that’s all about trying to trap your opponent’s queen bee. Even though the game looked a bit like dominoes on the table, it was actually quite similar to chess in terms of its strategy.

After playing an analytical game, we switched things up with a dexterity game, and that’s how Riff Raff came into play. The premise is that you set up the pirate ship with its teetering mast and beams, and then each player has to take turns adding pieces to this shifting structure while trying to keep the previous pieces from toppling over. Similar to Jenga in a way!

A post shared by Draughts London (@draughtslondon) on Apr 8, 2016 at 4:18am PDT

Draughts was a lot of fun and I loved that it was a low-key place where you had a mix of couples, families, and friends, and I also liked that you had the option of enjoying a beer or just sipping on a hot cup of tea. How very English!

Address: 337 Acton Mews, Hackney, London

The Blues Kitchen

Live music in Brixton every night

Now moving on to music, catching a gig in Brixton should also be on your list. This is a super-lively neighbourhood with a Caribbean feel, and you can see bands pretty much any night of the week.

I went to The Blues Kitchen where the tagline is “Blues, Bourbon & Barbecue”. Seeing as I had just had dinner at PopBrixton just down the street, I opted out of the barbecue and bourbon, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying the music.

Broken Brass Ensemble was playing that night – they’re a band from the Netherlands that plays New Orleans brass with a fusion of funk, jazz, hip-hop and soul – and they had the crowd on fire that night.

Address: 40 Acre Lane, Brixton, London

Beigel Bake

Chow down on late night salted-beef bagels

And in case you experience some late night food cravings long after the restaurants have shut down, allow me to introduce you to Beigel Bake.

This bagel shop is located in Brick Lane and they specialize in salt beef bagels that will satiate the biggest of appetites.

A post shared by Winfried (@winfriedcasters) on Jul 16, 2017 at 11:28pm PDT

You can order a few different pastries and bread rolls, but the salted beef was so good, you may as well forget the rest of the menu. Add a pickle and some mustard, and you’ve got yourself some magic.

A post shared by Ghetto Grillz (@ghetto_grillz) on Jul 22, 2017 at 4:29am PDT

And yes, they are open 24 hours and you’d be surprised by the lines at 4 in the morning!

Address: 159 Brick Lane, London

So there you have it – a few fun and unusual ways to experience London at night!

What are some of your favourite ways to enjoy London at night?

I visited London in partnership with Visit London and Visit Britain, but as always, all opinions expressed here are my own!

via Travel Blogs http://ift.tt/2yIr150