#hosts and hostesses paired off to do an event together at the host club

[hehosts]

a host & hostess mixer! exciting, no? —

— on your left is the amicable, romantic rabbit, while paired to your right is practically red light district royalty (a queen!). all the while, a pair of eyes gaze across the floor, serpentine gaze focused only where it should be — on you. and them, of course.

❝ we're glad you could make it. we don't often get to do this together. ❞

❝ he's being sentimental. you can always come to see me yourself at the white lotus. another man's presence is never a requirement. ❞

[ambrosiaaddiction]

Not Meant To Be

Word Count: 2,107

Pairing(s): Anthony Bridgerton x reader, Simon Basset x reader

Summary: The Bridgerton family and the Duke have been invited to a picnic that was planned by yours truly. Tensions begin to grow, and things don’t go quite as you hoped they would.

TW: none

Part 2/6

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

Today’s weather of sunshine and blue skies called for a picnic. I gave clear instructions to Cook that he should prepare a delicious meal and treats, including Simon’s favorite of gooseberry pie. I would never forget something so important about him because it always came in handy.

I then go to find our butler, Charles, and say, “Please send invitations to the Bridgertons and the Duke of Hastings, Charles. There will be a picnic at the park, and do tell them that it will be late at 1pm.” He bows in response, and repeated my words before he left to complete his tasks.

With a nod of satisfaction, I left the main floor then up the stairwell to change my attire. What I was currently wearing fell short of today’s planned event, and I needed to win Simon back. Once inside my bedroom, I closed the door and quickly strode to the wardrobe to see my options.

My thoughts roamed to the man who promised that we would spend the rest of our lives together, which made my blood boil with rage. Men these days were either too dense or too arrogant or had little backbone. Simon was a mixture of having a huge ego and vulnerable when he opens up to the people that know his true personality.

None of this was my fault whatsoever. I left for only a mere three months to study abroad in France, then I return to the ‘wonderful’ news of his engagement to a girl named Daphne Bridgerton. A trip to London hadn’t been something I expected for myself, but I came to the city for him and no other reason.

In truth, Simon technically was still my fiancé, although I knew there was an explanation for everything that took place while I was absent. As a matter of fact, he brushed off the situation like it was a speck of dust that ruined his perfect image to the desperate mamas and equally egotistical lords.

“Good heavens, I’m going to get wrinkles if I keep thinking about the “what-ifs” and not do anything to change them.” I huff in exasperation at my own foolishness, a bit disappointed in myself for having such thoughts when the damage had yet to be done.

After endless decision-making, I chose to wear a yellow dress with a simple pink floral design from the sleeves to the hem of its skirt, and I twirl in front of the mirror with a bright smile. It wasn’t a ball gown, but this would surely make Simon realize that he wants me more than anyone in all of Grovensor Square. It just had to.

I had to admit, the dress itself was too revealing for a lady of my status. Well, at least it would be just myself, Simon, and the Bridgertons alone for a picnic. A reminder to cover my legs repeated itself over and over in my mind, yet I had a feeling that I would catch the attention of everyone’s eyes anyway.

The clock rang the second its big small hand reached 12pm, which meant there was an hour left for preparations and riding to the park. “Marianne! Please call for the carriage, and tell chef to hurry!” I shouted into the air, and I heard Marianne reply from down the hall. Perhaps I was rushing for punctuality-sake, but a host or hostess must never arrive later than their guests.

It was a good thing that mama had long left for tea at Lady Farland’s estate, and papa was probably gambling at the gentlemen’s club again. I certainly wouldn’t be surprised if he came home with news that he either won lost of money or lost a majority of what he gambled. No one could tell me that the picnic was meant to open Simon’s eyes and see just me in them rather than that so-called “flawless” Bridgerton girl.

Nonetheless, I had to get going before they gossiped of my tardiness if I wasn’t already at the location. Time seemed to blur from when I scurried down the stairs to gather everything I needed to when I got into the carriage and made it safely to the park. The next thing I knew, I was trying my best not to laugh at a discreetly explicit joke Benedict had shared amongst ourselves.

Anthony looked like he was going to strangle his brother or maybe he was going to give him a pat on the shoulder? I couldn’t tell because I was too preoccupied with devouring my favorite sandwich while I brushed my shoulder against Simon’s. Of course this got his attention, and he whispered into my ear, “Now is not the time nor place to play, y/n. Behave yourself.”

His warning provoked something inside of me, but there were too many people who would witness the indecency behind my innocent act. “My apologies, your Grace. I’ll be a good girl for you.” I whispered in reply, then continued to enjoy my delicious sandwich as though I did nothing wrong in the first place.

I knew what I was doing to him, and he liked it. He knew what would happen if I went further, and I was fanning the flames with fervor. “Is Daphne aware of our relationship? Sorry, I meant, what it was supposed to become? You know, such as getting married? Living together and in the country?”

Simon’s jaw clenched just like when he used to have me underneath him, calling his name and coming undone by his touch as I squeezed tighter around him. Those nights were by far the best I had ever experienced, and he treated me with such tenderness after we were spent.

“Don’t you remember the great times we had, love? Everything fell apart when I came to London and found you dancing with the red-headed girl in the moonlight.” I scowled under my breath, then I slowly calmed myself down before I could ruin this lovely picnic with a beautiful family and my old lover.

I needed a moment alone, so I stood up and sheepishly excused myself from the blanket before walking away. It was almost as though the night I found myself standing at the lake was repeating itself again, but this time, I knew where I was going and no tears would shed. No, this time was different than last. Instead of crying because I couldn’t control some situations, I chose to think about I would take back Simon for myself.

Seeing Simon chuckle and comment on every little thing Daphne said created small cracks on my heart. I couldn’t think of when he used to do that with me, and I close my eyes to forget all of the recently bad memories. Heavy footsteps approached from behind, but I was too distracted by the wrong Simon had done to me.

“Y/n, are you alright? You left so suddenly, and everyone is worried about you.” Anthony softly called out to me, his hand resting on my shoulder to turn me around and see the miserable state I was in. “I’ll be better, my lord. There’s no need to waste your worry on me.” I mustered a fake smile to dissipate his concern for me, but apparently he had dealt with heartbroken maidens before.

The Viscount gently pulled me into his arms, and rocked our bodies back and forth. I was speechless for I had no idea what he was doing, and yet I didn’t want him to stop. It felt pleasant to be comforted by a warm embrace that held a promise of always being there when it was most needed in times of anguish.

“You are a strong woman, y/n. You don’t need to act as though nothing can break through your walls. You’re still human, and that’s okay. Believe me, I know what it’s like to feel helpless.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and smiled when I pulled away to stare at him with wide eyes. I always knew what kind of man he was, but the side of him that I admired truly was a rare sight to behold.

What felt like an eternity of comfortable silence was interrupted by Eloise who came searching for her brother and I after he had been gone for too long. “Mama won’t stop spouting nonsense that you’ve gotten lost, brother. We had to stop her from creating a search party.” She snickered at the fresh memory, and it stopped when she realized that Anthony was hugging me unusually close to his chest.

I caught on and quickly pushed myself away, then I fixed my dress before thanking her. “Thank you for taking the responsibility, Eloise. You’ve found us alright, and I believe we best return to your family.” Anthony cleared his throat, a big embarrassed that the particular sister of his had seen something she would never let go.

“Yes, Miss Denbow is right. Let’s return before mother actually gathers a search party for three people.” He leads the way, and I smile awkwardly at Eloise as I walk past her. I then let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding in since she found Anthony and I, but I hoped that she wouldn’t mention it when we got back to the picnic.

Once there, Lady Bridgerton literally shed tears of joy as soon as she saw my face and brought me into a hug. What was with the Bridgertons and hugging? I could see Simon lean over to Anthony, his mouth forming the words, “Thank you for bringing her back safely.” Anthony nodded in reply, then sat down in between Colin and Benedict before he grabbed his glass of wine to take quite a long sip.

Well, it was back to where I started. I didn’t want to ask questions and make matters worse, but I knew that the current engagement wasn’t going to last for long. According to Lady Whistledown, Queen Charlotte was not convinced of the proclaimed love that everyone said Simon and Daphne shared.

I had to say it. Otherwise, I would lose the love of my life to a woman who gained Her Majesty’s favor, and I would be lonely until the day I die. “The Duke and I were once lovers, but now he’s going to marry Miss Bridgerton.” Complete and utter silence. I take in a deep breath before I continue.

“I had traveled to France for three months, and the Duke asked me to come see him here, in London. I truly thought that he was going to marry me, but I was proven wrong and a fool. He’s pretending as though we didn’t have a beautiful relationship before he chose to help her and she him.”

Lady Bridgerton was the first to break, and she began to stumble over her words while overcoming the insurmountable shock that I gave to everyone. Eloise tried what she could to stop herself from laughing, Benedict smacked her arm while he was struggling to do the same.

Colin couldn’t find the right words, and Anthony spat out his wine. Except for the two youngest children who were playing in a flower field, we adults all sat together with no help to describe what our mixed emotions were. “What is the matter with you, y/n? Did you even think this through before you babbled on about the past? If I had known that you were so childish, I would’ve left you a long time ago.”

Simon glared cold daggers in my direction, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The man who I loved was now a stranger with a much better woman than I, so there was nothing I could do now to take him back. “You’re right, Simon. I’m such a child, and I don’t know any better than to tell the truth when living a lie is all the more tempting.”

I gave my deepest apologies to Lady Bridgerton, promising her that I would make up for my demeanor with tea and a visit to the spa one day. I then said my farewells to the Bridgertons, but I didn’t spare the slightest of glances to Simon who looked like he was going to let out a fury of anger.

It served him right for playing with my heart, and if he was so play a part not meant for him that would end in heartbreak, then so be it. I knew someone who could help me make him regret losing me, and they were a professional when it came to such lengths.

Just you wait, Simon Basset. Just you wait.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

At Twelve

John Wick x Reader (A/n- Felt like I’ve been neglecting our favorite assassin, so here’s this! And happy New Year! Here’s to hoping the 2020 brings everyone health, prosperity and great opportunities)

New York and the holiday season always seemed to have an unspoken connection. Between the parades, several tree-lighting events, the snow and the all round atmosphere, it was the perfect place to spend Christmas. Similarly, it was also a great place to spend New Year’s Eve; some would dare to take boats out for parties, clubs and restaurants came to life with savvy events and of course, there was the most anticipated one of all; the dropping of the ball in Times Square. Needless to say, if one wanted to spend the last month of the year having a wintery good time, New York was the place to be.

Coincidently, New York also happened to be home to two people who often wanted nothing to do with all the holiday cheer. None other than John Wick and Y/n. While it may have been John’s hardened demeanor that had long ago made it him disinterested in the holidays, for Y/n it was something a little closer to home; she had spent much of her short adult life alone, bitter with a family that had turned her into something that she wasn’t sure she wanted to be and thus, seeing everyone else excited about spending the season with their own families always struck a nerve.

“Where’s your bourbon?” John asked, from the kitchen, breaking Y/n out of her thoughts.

“Liquor cabinet, top shelf, bring the tequila while you’re at it,” she yelled back from her spot of the large white sofa, her hands gently stroking the head of John’s dog. It was so rare for them to both to have time off, far less to have it simultaneously, which was why spending the night together seemed fitting. That in addition to the fact that they were both otherwise alone, Y/n had not spoken to her parents; two of the most lethal criminals in the world since she was sixteen, nor did she ever have time date around and John hadn’t found someone since his wife had passed years before. So, when John asked Y/n if she’d be willing to ditch the Continental’s New Years Eve party for the third year in a row to hang out, just two close friends getting drunk and probably watching old movies together, pretending that it was just a regular night, Y/n readily obliged. 

Y/n’s desolate abode sat near a lake in a quite, posh community just outside the city. The view from her backyard was spectacular, and normally, when it was her turn to host their dinners for two, they’d keep each other company out there, but considering the chill of the season, that night they were confined to her elegantly dressed living room. “We should do something,” John declared, resigning to the spot next to Y/n, slouching down into the cushions as he handed over a glass along with the tequila. Y/n would never admit it out loud, preferring that most of her feelings were kept under warps, but she liked seeing John like that. Relaxed, and at ease, when he wasn’t dressed in an intimidating suit but worn jeans and a casual sweater, when he’d offer her a rare, subtle smile and let his guard down. They were two things he only did around her and the same could easily be said about Y/n.

“How much of that did you drink in the kitchen?” Y/n cocked an eyebrow, pouring herself a drink, barely wincing when she did a shot without chaser or lime. 

“None,” John reared back, scoffing and when Y/n gave him a knowing stare, he corrected, “One, finding the tequila took a while,” he explained and Y/n rolled her eyes. “Come on, I’m serious.”

“About?” She feigned confusion. 

“Doing something, tonight. For the past three years, all we do is sit inside, watch T.V and get drunk,” John sipped his drink coolly, observing Y/n’s disinterest in the whole idea of leaving the comfort of her home. “We should change things up this year,” John continued.

“Why would we do that?” Y/n shook her head, “We can do the same things they do out there,” she gestured to the window in making her point, “In here; drink, listen to music and whatever else.” 

“It might be nice,” John defended. Growing up an orphan at the Ruska Roma had never really offered much on holidays conventionally spent with family, no cozy dinners shared around a family table or vacations taken with loved ones, nothing. John had heard snippets of Y/n’s childhood though, growing up in a family of criminals might not have been ideal, but he had heard one or two stories about how she used to be close to her father and the things her mother had taught her before they had sent her to the Ruska Roma at the tender age of fifteen. “Didn’t you celebrate with your family?”

Y/n sighed loudly, leaning her head on the back of the couch. John was right, before everything changed, when she was a kid, they did celebrate. It was the one month of the year where they’d be a normal family; her mother taught her things in the kitchen and on New Years Eve, they’d travel to their vacation home in Aspen, spending the week together before getting back to business. Even if it was long gone, and the memories usually only served to be more bitter than sweet, looking at John, knowing that he had been deprived of so much was paining. His one shot at the life he craved had been buried six feet under and now he, as he’d often remind her, Y/n and Dog was all he had left. Finishing of her third or fourth drink, Y/n stood abruptly, stalking off without a word, “ Where are you going?” 

“To get ready. There’s gonna be traffic everywhere, and people are usually disgusting, but there’s a nice restaurant near the edge of Manhattan. Its hard to get a reservation,” Y/n sighed heavily, pretending that the act of doing something nice for John wasn’t something she wanted, “But I know the owner so I’ll give him a call and see what I can do.”

In return, just before she left the room, Y/n was privy to one of his rare smiles as a silent thanks, and walking up the stairs, she had to pretend that it didn’t do much to warm her icy heart.

About two hours later, John and Y/n had finally broken from the thick traffic, parking on the curb. Arm in arm, looking more like a couple than close friends, they walked to rest of the way to the restaurant. Over her simple back mini dress, which had been paired with a velvety pair of heeled boots, Y/n used a stylish leather jacket with a woolen inside to break the chill while John had only been given the opportunity to throw his own thick leather jacket over his sweater, though Y/n still thought he looked better than most of the men she had ever met.

“The place is just up here,” Y/n pointed to the end of the block as they weaved through the mass of pedestrians.

“What did you friend say?” John inquired for the sake of making more conversation. The times he spent with Y/n was usually the only time he actually wanted to trade brooding for talking.

Y/n shook her head as they neared a set of glass double doors, “He’s not my friend. I said that I know him. He owes me a favor, or a few, unless he wants to go to jail.” John pushed the door open, letting her in first and then they joined the line to the hostess.

“Blackmail?” He probed, intrigued, it was dirty play for something as frivolous as a reservation, but John didn’t think that Y/n was above it.

“I prefer bartering,” she emphasized with a proud smirk, “His freedom for whatever the hell I want.”

John chuckled quietly, shaking his head, she really was something. As they moved up in the line, neither of them noticed that their hands had remained joined at the elbows, but the closeness was comforting, they always felt safest together. When they finally reached the hostess, a young girl dressed in black, Y/n gave her name and the woman scanned her tablet, her eyes lighting up when she found their last minute reservation, “Miss Y/l/n, right this way,” quickly, another young girl stepped into her place as the hostess started leading them through the restaurant, “I think you and your husband will love what they managed to string together.”

Y/n chortled in disbelief, ignoring the disappointment that settled in her chest as she debunked her assumption, “Oh he’s not my husband. We’re just friends.”

“Yupp,” John sighed awkwardly, combating his own despondence with their plutonic status, “Just friends.”

Anyone form a mile away could see what buzzed between the two, the stares that were a little to long to not mean something and the touches that sometimes crossed the line of intimacy. They way John looked at her when her face was turned away or the way Y/n would cling to his arm when they were in a crowd as her way of making sure they stayed together. 

“Oh,” the hostess faltered, “Sorry I just assumed that.....” she shook her head trailing off, leading them up a set of stairs hidden in a room tucked away at the corner of the establishment, just behind a plain wooden door. The staircase ran up a wide corridor and led to another door, that one cool grey metal, which subsequently led to the rooftop. Half of it had been enclosed to facilitate an indoor longue while the other half was left open, presumably a fun spot during warmer months. “Here is it,” she led them through a set of French doors that had fogged up a result of the internal heat and coldness outside.

The lights of the small lounge had been turned down to the lowest setting with twinkling fairy lights hanging over curtained windows adding to the mood. Save for the one central to the red carpeted room, all the other tables were free of settings and patrons. The small bar at the furthest corner of the room looked open but there was no one manning it and the same went for the mini buffet, equipped with options for a main course along with several others for appetizers and deserts, “We’re packed tonight,” the woman explained shortly, “I mean, you’re lucky you managed to swing this place. But we don’t have enough to staff up here, so it’s gonna have to be self-service.”

“That’s fine,” John and Y/n agreed. Arguably, it was better that having waiters buzzing in and out; just John and Y/n alone in each others company. When she left, Y/n turned to John, “I know you said you wanted to do something, and I know this isn’t exactly a concert in Times Square, but-”

“It’s perfect,” John smiled, a little wider than he usually did and Y/n felt her insides warm up a bit. 

“Are you sure, cause I’m not sure it counts as ‘going out’ if its just the two of us,” slowly the strolled to the bar, collecting a chilled bottle of wine. With a resounding pop, John had the bottle open and poured them a couple glasses.

“You know,” he began as they surveyed the food, Y/n trying one of the bite-sized appetizers, “Since we’re getting technical, I said that we should ‘do something’ not ‘go out’. This is doing something,” he shook his head absently, “And I know you didn’t have to, or want to, so thank you.”

“It’s whatever,” Y/n waved John off as they prepared their plates, going over to a candle lit table. 

It wasn’t ‘whatever’, but John chose not to argue with her, opting to join Y/n at their table, sitting across from her. Over quiet conversation, they ate their dinner, not counting the minutes as it grew closer to midnight.

After dinner, John and Y/n had lingered inside, drinking and talking, enjoying the fact that they had the place to themselves, though, when he checked his watch and noticed that there was just twenty minutes left in the year, he suggested that they go outside. Bundling up once again, they made their way to the outdoor area, going to stand at fenced edge off of the roof. For a while, they stood there, looking down at the busy streets below, sometimes glancing at the festivities going on no too far off, in comfortable silence. But eventually Y/n spoke up, not turning to John, “You were right, you know. Before I left home, we’d do all kinds of things during the holidays. On New Year’s Eve, we’d go to Aspen; I’d help my mom cook dinner and afterwards we’d watch the fireworks show put on by the resort nearby. It was fun,” she smiled softly.

John swallowed tightly; it was so rare for Y/n to open up about her family, so much so that when she did, he’d always feel like he’d been privy to a part of her that no one else was. Though even when she spoke of them, it was usually hard to tell how the whole thing made her feel, except for that night, John thought, she looked wistful, as if the memory were too far gone, “That sounds like a nice tradition. Do you miss it?”

It took a minute before she could offer any sort of reply, but when she did, Y/n shook her head, staring out into the excitable distance, the near darkness shrouding her confusion, “I’m not sure, I haven’t thought about it in a long time,” she sighed, and found that, by some miracle, she actually wanted to open up about it. Figures it’d be to John, he was the only person who she trusted with her memories, with her life, “But I do know that I’ve spent a long time running away from making new ones, from anything like this really,” she took his hand, her leather glove resting coolly over John’s ungloved hand.

John looked at their hands together, thinking that it would be easy to hold onto her forever. When he glanced up at her, John found that Y/n eyes were trained on him, “And what about now?” He probed tentatively.

“Now?” She smiled, so faintly that it was hard to notice, “Now, I don’t have lot, but I’m glad I have you. Maybe we can make new traditions.”

“I’m glad I have you too,” John locked eyes with Y/n, squeezing the tips of her fingers. Not too far off in the distances, and even the floor below, a loud countdown began.

Five.

“You know, I never thought I’d meet someone like you.”

Four.

“Someone like me?”

Three.

“Yeah,” Y/n’s smile was shy and John’s lips were just a breath away. She was ready to do something she’d only thought of for so long.

Two

“I don’t understand,” John smiled softly.

Y/n smiled too, leaning in a little, “Then let me show you.”

One.

As the clock struck twelve, people cheered loudly and fireworks went off, lighting up the sky, making the city seem even more alive than it did before. And right as it all happened, Y/n pressed her lips to John’s, her free hand cupping his neck as his moved to the small of her back, deepening their kiss. Neither of them register how long it went on for, but when they broke for air, their foreheads were pressed together and Y/n explained, “I never thought I’d meet someone I wanted to kiss at twelve.”

At her confession, John smiled, going in for another kiss, holding her close and what flowed between them told them both at twelve, everything had changed. 

[diveronaevents]

The people of Verona were content. The bridge was in ruins, the city was at war, and still they tucked their children at night without fear in their hearts. Their fingers did not tremble as they touched their toddler’s cheek, and their dreams were full of promise and hope for a better tomorrow. The quietness that lingered in Verona - covering the city like a weighted blanket that cannot be shrugged off - had become a comfort to its citizens. 

But there were still people who had not forgotten the horrors of the festival. There were still those who know to sleep with a knife between their lips. Survivors knew, after all, that ruin was most dangerous when it wore the face of peace.

On a night where the moon did not shine and the stars were all that kept the city from plunging into empty darkness, a clandestine meeting was held. From the shadows, a single pair of bright eyes glowed and studied the room. It was nearly barren, with only four single chairs arranged around a circular table and nothing else. 

He was the first to arrive, but he would not be the first to expose himself. Not until the one who had personally invited him appeared.

“Orion.” Behind him, a familiar voice of velvet sounded. “Darling, were you waiting for me long?”

He emerged, stepped into the light with a cat’s smile. “Hardly.”

Before Mona had the chance to respond, the front door opened. The ringmaster of their circus, the summoner of them all, had arrived. Behind her, a single companion trailed with a storm in his eyes.

Orion’s lips quirked, but the ghost of a frown fled before it could be seen.

Loretta stood behind a chair, claiming it for herself and laying a somber gaze upon them all. “We may begin,” she said, her voice a command and far from a question. 

Mona raised her brows but made her way to the chair across from Loretta. The others followed suit, and a suspicious silence fell over them once they were all seated. 

“I thought you were dead,” Orion quipped.

Felipe narrowed his eyes. “I am.”

As if they had all been waiting for that short exchange to be complete, Mona clasped her hands together, gaze drifting to a shadowed corner where she imagined their invisible ally would huddle. But he wasn’t here. Alexander had already played his role. He had already given his word. All that was left was for Mona to see if it would prove worthy of her rarely-given trust.

Her gaze returned to her companions. Her thoughts returned to what was at stake. “Enough small talk. We have a daunting task ahead of us.”

                                                                         —

Cosimo knew his home best when it was in despair. It was what he had grown up with; it was what he had profited from, time and time again. There was beauty in despair; there was promise and even profit in calamity. This was his gift: optimism. But even he had trouble grappling with the current state of affairs. The Montagues had pushed his pride to the edge and thought to see him fall off the precipice. They thought to turn his affections against him, going after his adopted niece and his trusted advisor.

They thought wrong. He had watched Rafaella grow from a spiteful little creature to a woman worth fearing. He had watched the fear in her eyes turn to something terrible, and knew she would outlast them all. Still, he could not have his leadership insulted. He could not have his own advisor kidnapped without retribution.

It would be much easier to think clearly without his daughter’s fury filling the room.

“We will bring her back. No matter how many soldiers it takes, they will not take my cousin without paying for it.” The principessa was shaking with rage, her cheeks flushed with the force of it. 

“And what do you propose?” Vivianne asked, a beacon of reason and logic.

He needed them both. He needed both Juliana’s ferocity and Vivianne’s clear eyes. With his back turned towards them, staring off into space, Cosimo listened.

“A rescue.” Juliana’s eyes were on Vivianne but she spoke to her father’s heart and his pride. “We show them we are smarter and stronger by taking her back. We come together as one to find her and bring her home.”

Vivianne turned her eyes towards Cosimo. Juliana followed suit. They waited patiently for him to speak. 

“And you would lead it?” 

“Yes,” Juliana bore her eyes into her father’s back, knowing he would meet hers and be proud of the purpose he saw in them. “I will bring her home.”

Cosimo turned and felt only some strange loss of the principessa. The more and more he spoke to her, the more he saw the beginnings of a regina. 

“Very well.”

                                                                        —

Overall, Damiano might consider himself content. The Festa Dell'amore had not made a major dent in their revenue streams, and Genevieve had expertly shifted the winds to undo any damage control. Perhaps the Montagues were not the glowing heroes of Verona as he had hoped, but the people were forgetting the horror of that night the Witches took their last breaths.

Even better, the night ended with Rafaella in their grasp and beneath their heels. The Dark Lady’s information had already proven valuable, with potential threats quietly eliminated and new leads secured. And for all its unfortunate surprises and mishaps, the Festa Dell'amore had been a success.

Yet, the Montagues were growing unruly and restless, eager to see the Capulets in rags and willing to take revenge into their own hands. He had to admit: it was tempting to see how far they would go to control fate and change the tides. His hands itched to loosen the reigns and to give the Montagues over to their every whim and fancy.

It was precisely why he invited the Dark Lady to meet him. There was no one better suited to the task.

“On one condition,” Mona smiled and bent her head forward, her earrings caught the light and sparkled. Each movement was intentional, crafting an illusion she intended - needed - for Damiano to buy into. “It will be a gala to celebrate Verona, the city that brings us all together.”

“And who might you mean by us all?” Damiano asked dryly, knowing fully well what her answer would be.

“Why, the Montagues and the Capulets alike, of course. Verona’s elite. The only ones who are capable of understanding each other even while they are at odds. As a patron of secrets to both, I must extend an invitation to both as well.” She flashed a smile and played her final card against him. “It’s only right, as hostess to your grand party.”

                                                                        —

With Damiano Montague’s blessing granted as a tribute to the newfound alliance with the Lady of Whispers, Hotel Emelia has been put under her reign for one legendary evening, dedicated to the hosting of a gala unlike any other that Verona has ever seen. Montagues, Capulets, and an assortment of Verona’s elite have been invited to celebrate the city and all that unites them - power, glory and blood - in an event designed around the very notion of reveling in it all. No expense has been spared and no restrictions have been imposed in this diabolical dream the Dark Lady has crafted. And all of Verona shall succumb to it. That is the promise of its mistress -- and as it is known... she never goes back on her word.

Within the invitation, Mona has included the layout of the event. Each spectacle is intended to entice the senses, drown the heart and immerse each and every guest in the possibility that awaits them all. They are as follows, each of them taking place in a designated area in the hotel:

HALL OF HEAVEN: The sanctum of the event and the heart of the promised revelry. It overtakes the dining area of the hotel which has been refurbished to serve as both the central location within the gala and the first stepping stone paving the way for the decadent journey that awaits. No one knows the value of a first impression better than the Dark Lady, and thus she’s ensured that the crowning jewel of the event would take one’s breath away from the moment their toe dips into its threshold. Ornate decorations sprawl across every wall and line every corner. Gleaming chandeliers bathe the crowds in spiraling gold. Opulent sculptures and awe-inspiring artifacts can be found guarding the pillars and cradling the stage -- but that’s not all. The hall is not only a sight for sore eyes, but also fodder for restless appetites of all kinds. Magnanimously lined buffets are available to cater to the guests in every way, multiple live performances are scheduled to occupy the stage throughout the evening, and secluded corners are fitted with seats and tables for the reticent and the weary alike. With all that it has to offer, one can be expected to wander through it for hours and hours on end.

DEVIL’S ALLEY: While the hall embraces the weary, this area was made for the wicked. Ever familiar with the ravenous inclinations of Verona’s lost souls, the Dark Lady has designed this area to cater to their every whim and thrill. A shadowed doorway in one corner of the hall leads to a sprawling staircase that ends in an unused kitchen on the lower floor. Vacated of all cabinets and appliances, it’s been cleared and decorated to house the gala’s very own fighting club. A miniature yet no less brutal version of Measure by Measure. Any guest who’s consumed by restlessness or bloodlust alike need only climb down that flight of stairs in order to reap their instincts for all they’re worth. Bookmakers can be found nudging their way through the hollering cluster of spectators as they take bets and keep track of the ensuing fights. An overseer is also stationed nearby to make sure that things don’t get too ugly, but you can rest assured; they won’t be holding anyone back so much as they’ll be ensuring that no one topples into an early grave sooner than Verona dictates. That would sour the mood far too much for the Dark Lady’s liking.

KISS IN THE DARK: None could claim that an experience is of the Dark Lady’s creation if it wasn’t meant to stoke one’s desires and rile their slumbering demons, and it's for that purpose precisely that this section of the event was designed. Along the same floor where the Hall of Heaven is stationed, a room of the most enticing, stirring nature can be found. It’s unnerving upon first glance; as dark and sightless as an abyss, with amplified echoes to every trickle of sound and a heady, coaxing aroma in the air. A single push is all it takes for one to be plunged into this delectable nightmare. Only to realize that it’s no nightmare at all when the fall is suddenly cushioned by the plush, smooth velvet of an unseen recliner. When the fear is slowly chased away by the drifting touch of an awaiting lover -- or an array of them. There are no restrictions and no bounds in this bottomless cocoon of bliss. There are only possibilities, and the Dark Lady is more than happy to provide each and every one of them to any starved soul that comes knocking on the door.

STOLEN EDEN: No journey into Heaven is complete without a taste of the Eden it harbors, and that’s exactly what one would find upon venturing through the ornamented doors that mark both the end of the hallway and the finish line for one’s expedition through the Dark Lady’s crafted dream. What was once a broad, royal suite, is now an elaborate garden; with artificial plants and greenery along the walls, flowers of all kinds and scents dangling from the ceiling, with the smell of incense in the air and the taste of peaches on the tongue. Meant as the final resting place before guests ought to make their return back into Verona’s dreary realm of terror, the suite is nothing short of a tropical slice of paradise. With a charming fountain cradled in the heart of the garden, recliners and cushions scattered all across the room, and beautiful servers that idle around, keeping the guests company and tending to their every desire, with the promise of flesh if they so wish it and an endless reprieve lining the trays they carry, in the form of cigarettes, drinks, and every drug that Verona has to offer. It’s difficult to imagine how anyone could be persuaded to leave after such an endeavor, but then again, there’s no one that they would find awaiting them at the door to escort them to the exit. Merriment of this nature is never-ending in Verona, after all, and so long as the people ask for more, the Dark Lady shall continue to provide.

                                                                       —

OVERVIEW: Welcome to the gala, Veronesi! Queen Mab was absent from the chaos that overtook La Festa Dell’amore, but now she’s back to take Verona by storm. She’s hosting the gala in collaboration with the Montagues in honor of the newly-established relationship that she’s now formed with them, for the purpose of giving the city some room to breathe after all the ruin that it’s recently witnessed -- or so she claims at least. As we’ve all come to learn by now, in Verona, nothing is ever as it seems, and there seem to be stirrings of something big and dastardly on the horizon. The Montagues are focused on finding unity and creating order in their scattered ranks, and the Capulets are roiling over the loss of Rosaline and working to ensure that they retrieve her as fast as possible. All while a certain set of individuals lurks in the shadows and fiddles with a scheme so wholly their own. We can do nothing but hold our breath, and await what is meant to unfold.

As you’re aware, LADY ANNE and FLORIZEL are included in the event despite the fact that they are now open. Due to the crucial roles they play in the event, and for the sake of not disturbing our pre-determined plans for the plot, we’ve decided to make an exception for them. For the duration of the plot drop, they will be treated as NPC’s and you’re free to explore their involvement in your threads. But we ask that you please refrain from godmodding them or doing anything bigger than mentioning or referencing them in your threads if you wish to do so, as we have to be mindful that they are still open for applications. You can now date your threads from MARCH 4TH through MARCH 15TH -- with MARCH 15TH serving as the night of the gala. Have fun!!

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10 Ways To Present celebration.

Why Is celebration Considered Underrated?

A few of your concerns concerning The golden state specialist responsibility insurance coverage may be addressed right here. There are a few things to make certain of prior to the fun starts as well as it relates to the bridal shower event supplies. They will certainly be able to cherish their little presents well after the celebration has finished when they obtain home. If you are seeking to make great deals of organisation links maybe you intend to most likely to the large celebration as well as mingle, yet I have actually never had the ability to invent passion in something I locate dull. Each card was published with a dare we had thought out ahead of time and also would operate in all adult celebration circumstances. The basis of your choices on the occasion, either it's a casual of elegant simple amusing recipes enable you to attend your celebration and have as much enjoyable as your guests. Occasionally these birthday event invites will have matching envelopes to download and install. Separate the celebration occasionally with a short video game I suggest that you have a video game between your item presentationa nd your organisation chance. It may well be that social differences explain why attitudes to arranged adult party games at swinger celebrations seem so at variance on other sides of the Atlantic. Offer yourself a break to a sexy makeover this season as well as make waves at your next celebration. Both groups will certainly appreciate their little ghost Halloween event decorations that double as celebration prefers. Saving cash on invites, decorations and also event favors can be as simple as purchasing beforehand or doing off-season. The first party was for 45 of my associates and also the complying with week I organized an additional party for 45 of my closest buddies. As many people understand, a senior prom is a very unique occasion and for that reason having interactive Prom parlor game as well as printable activities for the guests will make it really special. Embellishing the table as well as establishing, dining room as well as lounging area for your celebration establishes a positive mood and makes it stand apart from a day-to-day get together. You can purchase pre loaded celebration boxes which will certainly make your life very simple and also stress free. Invitations: I composed VIP Party hands down organisation cardstock and handed them out in person. Ask those curious about participating in a Panty pipe Limo Event for their component of the monies up front, so you could book the Limo early and also understand how many are going. There are nevertheless occasions, when the visitors at a swinger event are all recognized to either desire, or have no solid feelings against, having grown-up parlor game played. These sorts of points matter when you are aiming to pick the foods that will match your event to excellence. Some examples of delicacies that can be offered at a masquerade party are crab smokes, avocado covered in prosciutto, delicious chocolate water fountain, cubes of cake etc Party favors nowadays are very wonderful and also numerous are less compared to $2 or perhaps less than $1 each.

How To Find out about event In Just 10 Days.

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To accomplish this goal it is vital to inspect the background of the company you have an interest in figure out whether a company is party to the lease is in great relationships with associations such as the Bbb and also the American Organization for the lease.

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Low-priced Present Ideas For Your Wifeor Partner.

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