#ic : coco labelle.

[likemosaic]

coco follows along, as ever, looking at salem expectantly. if it's more tangled, then she'll hear her out, pulled along on the string of salem's strangled kindnesses. she's undaunted by salem's pulling away--coco is used to being the one who pushes too hard, asks for too much, the one who needs and is never satisfied by what she's given. it would have been far more uncomfortable if salem hadn't removed her from her mind and body. she's come to expect a certain level of rejection from every person she meets. salem's blunt honesty is more than coco has been given in the past, and she's grateful for that, at least. even if it hurts.

coco's never been married and never really planned to be, even further into adulthood. not that there's no one good enough, but rather, the inverse: who could she show her insides to? who would still want her if they knew it all? coco tries to imagine herself in either salem or...ozpin? ozma's? shoes, at war with the one who knows your vulnerabilities. but no matter how she tries, she can't imagine a good explanation for trying to kill the one you love. she's too young and full of optimistic ideas to entirely understand; coco thinks that, if she were at war with someone she loved, she'd just want it to be over. and it sounds like salem wants, if nothing else, for the fighting to stop.

she tries to picture ozpin and salem married, very obviously studying salem to do so. it's an odd picture, but then-

"-that makes sense, i think. you guys kind of talk the same, you know?" perhaps that explains her near-immediate trust in salem.

beacon was only the first move. the residual loyalty to beacon and its headmaster pings her again, insistent. something isn't right. though she wants to pretend she understands all that salem has explained, she can't keep in one of the most burning questions. "but why beacon? what does that do? how does that end the, um, the war? it was just a bunch of students, you know? some teachers." she tries to understand, but neither option makes sense: salem seems too logical and intelligent to destroy beacon for a petty grudge; ozpin wouldn't destroy beacon, end statement. would he? doubt creeps in. it's plain coco had absolutely no idea what was really at stake, and no one had felt the need to clarify to her, either. maybe cinder acted alone (coco's gone rogue a few times herself), but she gets the sense that isn't the case.

someone has to be good and someone has to be bad, here. coco can't process the grey. can't accept that she and the other students may have been an afterthought.

she studies the floor as they walk, arms folded, not paying attention to where they're going. her head throbs, and she touches the wall to try and keep her balance.

salem is playing a masterful chess game for humanity against her (ex?) husband and coco feels...ridiculous, for having her priorities so skewed. but she says it anyway, her blunt nature never fully suppressed, even in the throes of a fawning trauma response. "it was my home. i lived there." the earnest belief of a girl with a good heart: why would anyone want to destroy her home? the shield protecting her from her father's machinations? she remembers an expression from bart's class (she had never called him professor oobleck, and he had never seemed to mind): two elephants fought. the ants in the middle died. but up against gods, maybe salem is an ant, too, just trying to survive.

"did it have to be beacon?" said with mild hope and big brown eyes directed salem's way. like salem could put it back together and say, you're right, i'm sorry. let's try a different way. you can go home now.

Yet more tension strings itself down her back when the soft murmurings of the girl’s semblance nudge against the bounds of her mind. Misty pleas and wax-drippings of sympathy, that blurry coercive edge more vaporous than before. Don’t be sad. Don’t be angry—as if anything could ever be okay while the blade still rests upon Remnant’s throat. Salem pours the dark gall of her bitterness back into its reservoir even as it rises, and the thin smile twitching over her lips as she presses the girl out of her head is only a little poisoned.

(Her sorrow runs deep and cold as the glacial light that spills from the moon’s jaws; her fury howls within her of the witching rage in the scorched-black spaces between stars, of fire, of ashes and dust. She has never known how to be anything else but what she is.)

The girl’s apologies froth and churn, surf against stone, confused and scattering. Salem listens, and doesn’t quite flinch when the girl touches her—though she stills, holding her breath, waiting for it to be over. Her skin shivers with unease.

“It is,” she says at length, voice low and fried for lack of air as she glances to meet the too-earnest look the girl’s giving her, “more… tangled than that. I–”

She cuts herself off, shaking her head, and steps away to resume the sedate pace of before. The girl will find it all less overwhelming to digest once her hunger has been sated; and words have always come to her more easily in motion, even before the grimm.

“We were married,” Salem mutters. It’s a sour thing to admit, long since bled of any pleasant memories by the soul-deep cut of their lies, but she finds a venomous satisfaction in saying it, too. They try so hard to pretend it never happened. “Ozma and I, before they told me what their god had commanded them to do. I…” Her mouth thins. What she said that night had unraveled even as she spoke, a chaos of dread and desperate despair, but she remembers what she meant. “…refused. The Brothers will never set foot on Remnant while I live, I swore that long ago. We fought.”

The last word is a curt sickle-edged thing, forged from blood and quenched in fire. Salem sinks her talons into her palm, and takes a breath, and presses the shattered pieces of that night back down into the abyss.

“I don’t know,” she says with a touch of self-deprecation, “why they lie. Ozpin, Osiander, all the others who came before; the surface changes, but Ozma is always the same, and they always keep secrets. So here we are.” She glances sideways, eyes half-lidded. “Beacon was only the first move. Oz has been waging a silent war against my existence for lifetimes; I mean to end it.”

[luuv-zomby]

Winter Alter Template

pt. "winter alter template"

General

✿ —⁠ name : Winter, Frost, Crystal ✿ —⁠ pronouns : they/them/snow/snowself ✿ —⁠ gender terms : neutral ✿ —⁠ presentation (masc, fem, neu) : neutral, masculine ✿ —⁠ age : 17 ✿ —⁠ labels : nonbinary, omnisexual female preference ✿ —⁠ birthday : January 8th 2007

System

✿ —⁠ role(s) : protector ✿ —⁠ type : willogenic ✿ —⁠ source : @luuv-zomby

Personality

✿ —⁠ general mood / emotion : tired ✿ —⁠ traits : motivated, hard worker, emotionally drained, outdoorsy ✿ —⁠ mannerisms / habits : does chores ✿ —⁠ priorities : working, survival ✿ —⁠ pet peeves : snow in boots ✿ —⁠ introvert / extrovert / omnivert / ambivert : introvert ✿ —⁠ aesthetic : winter ✿ —⁠ theme : winter ✿ —⁠ theme song : Maneater - Nelly Furtado

Appearance

✿ —⁠ body type : upsidedown triangle ✿ —⁠ species : fae ✿ —⁠ height / weight : 5’8, 150Ibs ✿ —⁠ voice / accent : calm, drowsy, deep-medium, American accent ✿ —⁠ hairstyle / hair type / hair color : spiky white hair ✿ —⁠ facial shape : diamond ✿ —⁠ eye shape / eye color : upturned, yellow eyes ✿ —⁠ nose shape : upturned ✿ —⁠ lip shape : thin lips ✿ —⁠ other features : n/a ✿ —⁠ clothing aesthetic : winter, bundled up, furry

Ideas

✿ —⁠ dream job : military medic ✿ —⁠ fears : losing people close to them ✿ —⁠ regrets : n/a ✿ —⁠ insecurities : n/a ✿ —⁠ core values : n/a ✿ —⁠ philosophies : n/a

Interests

✿ —⁠ likes : the outdoors, reading, working, dark makeup ✿ —⁠ dislikes : heights ✿ —⁠ loves : hot chocolate, being alone ✿ —⁠ hates : losing ✿ —⁠ hyperfixations : ice hockey ✿ —⁠ unbearable : snow in their boots ✿ —⁠ comforts : ice hockey ✿ —⁠ favorite color : white ✿ —⁠ favorite activity : ice hockey ✿ —⁠ favorite song : Maneater - Nelly Furtado ✿ —⁠ favorite music genre : pop music ✿ —⁠ favorite game : ice hockey ✿ —⁠ favorite TV show : NHL matches ✿ —⁠ favorite movie : Home Alone ✿ —⁠ favorite food : pizza and popcorn ✿ —⁠ favorite drink : coco cola ✿ —⁠ favorite scent : hot chocolate ✿ —⁠ favorite flower : water lilies ✿ —⁠ favorite feeling : motivation ✿ —⁠ favorite season : winter ✿ —⁠ favorite weather : snowing

Extra

✿ —⁠ other : n/a

I love this one so much. I hope they treat you well. -Catherine II

[cherryblossomsmist]

Tony has been forced into public events and appearances all day, the perils of keeping busy in the holiday season, but due to some scheduling oversight he has an entire day of outdoor events one after another. And the multiple events for different organizations and businesses and charities isn’t odd but yeah somehow his newest PA hadn’t realized he was going to be outside for various things like tree cutting, ice skating, sleigh riding, tree lighting, Christmas Market grand opening, and finally winter fire works.

And either it’s been a freezing cold snowy day or maybe it’s been a wet and rainy (but still cold) day and he powered thru it like a champ (or a man that knew if he canceled on even one of these events he was going to be labeled a Scrooge by the media). In anycase he’s chilled to the bone and Steve takes care of him that night

Maybe he and Steve had plans they cancel to get Tony warm, maybe Steve runs into him coming home and sees he needs help, maybe they are together or maybe this is the first time they snuggle up by the fire as friends and leave as something more. Maybe Steve leaps into action, eager to help, or maybe Tony’s chilled skin and pallor makes him think of the ice and he muscles thru that discomfort to help Tony.

I assume hot coco or warm cider is enjoyed, a wood fire it lit, and maybe a bath is drawn, there’s definitely soft warm sheets slid into at the end

Oh, my God, I LOVE this. Like the hurt/comfort potential is so good, and it's so Tony to like, push himself like that, even if he's miserable. And extra if you know, he really hates the cold and really feels it, partly because of his bad circulation, partly because of how when he was on the streets, the cold really got to him, and he almost died in that blizzard that lead to his getting sober, and every winter he goes back to that, wakes up with nightmares about being back there--so he's already exhausted before the whole marathon of Christmas outdoor experiences. And of course he's never actually talked about that with anyone, so no one actually knows how bad it is to him, and how it gets to him. His hands are aching and freezing through his gloves and he keeps feeling like he's freezing to death again despite the warm cashmere coat he's wearing, but he's not gonna complain, he's just not.

And Steve, who used to suffer through his own miserable winters as a boy, who for a while there was afraid he might freeze to death some winters in a tenement without heat, takes one look at him when he gets back to the mansion, tower, whatever it is, and he just knows he's miserable. Tony's so cold, he's so pale, he feels like he's half frozen, and maybe it does make him a little uncomfortable, but he still leaps into action, eager to help. Tony's ... dazed, he's a little slow from the cold, and he's clearly miserable. He responds with vague words to his worried questions, and isn't even able to effectively pretend he's okay. His hair is wet under his hat from the snow. When Steve touches his cheek, Tony can barely feel it, he can tell. Steve is Fixing This.

He makes Tony some hot cocoa (because I keep imagining Tony as a closet lover of chocolate, and Steve knows it), and he rubs on his cold hands and blows on them--if they're together, he kisses at each cold knuckle and the tips of his fingers--and rubs his hands up under his shirt, up and down his back, exclaiming over how cold Tony feels with soft concern, before he draws him a bath and gently bullies him into it, while he asks Jarvis for a heating pad for the bed like he often uses himself when he gets a little too close to the ice in his head. He massages him after, either just his shoulders and arms and hands and feet if they're not together, his whole body if they are together, and makes sure he puts on warm pajamas and a warm robe. He puts his arms around him and Tony just--leans into him, because he never expected all of this. Any of this. Tony's kind of horrified when he realizes he's nuzzling into Steve's chest, but he's so, so warm and comforting and steadying, and his warm hands are stroking Tony's shoulders, up into his hair, kneading at his muscles.

And maybe that progresses to sex, if they're together, or even if it's their first time--what better way to warm Tony up, after all, right? But Steve insists he stays bundled up while they're doing it, until Tony is actively flushed in the face, and he drinks a lot of cold water after they're done, as Steve laughs at how overheated he's gotten Tony and kisses all over his face, pressing his big warm body up against Tony, and Tony rubbing his hands up and down Steve's bare chest in between drags of ice water, while Steve rubs at the back of his neck with one hand.

[blazethemodel]

BASIC INFORMATION.

Full Name: Nico Valdez

Nickname(s): Nic and Coco

Age: 24

Date of Birth: Feb. 14th, 2000

Hometown: St. Augustin, Florida

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/her

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Romantic Orientation: Biromantic

Occupation: Professional Makeup Artist and Travel Host.

Language(s) Spoken: English and Spanish.

Accent: Un poquito.

PLOTS WANTED.

Gym Buddy

Twin Flame

Sneaky Link

Study Partner

Frenemy/Rival

(honestly anything you can think of)

FAMILY INFORMATION.

Father: Ernesto Valdez

Mother: Deceased; Rachel Valdez

Sibling(s): 2 younger brothers

Pet(s): 1 teacup poodle, Rex

Family’s Financial Status: Working lower-class

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

Hair Colour: Black, but constantly changing it

Eye Colour: Brown

Height: 5'3

Weight: 155

Build: Curvy, thick

Tattoos: 27 and counting

Piercings: 4

Clothing Style: Modern street style/urban trending

PERSONALITY MAKERS.

Label: The Siren

Positive Traits: Hardworking, strong-willed, ambitious, opinionated, soft spoken, and considerate.

Negative Traits: Superstitious, calculating, temperamental, perfectionist, impulsive, and impatient.

Goals/Desires: Taking my current makeup artistry business beyond six figures. To operate a luxury travel hosting company with trained travel experts that tour different exotic destinations for large groups.

Hobbies: Exercise/gym, makeup artistry, trying new restaurants, and swimming.

FAVORITES.

Weather: Rain

Colour: Eclectic yellow and golden yellow

Artist(s): Meek Mill, Lil Durk, Future, Lil Baby, Flo Milli, H.E.R. , Tems, Tyla, and Burna Boy.

Movies(s): Boyz n the Hood, Mrs. Doubtfire, Friday, Liar Liar, and Poetic Justice.

Sport: Basketball

Beverage: Iced french vanilla coffee and rum and coke.

Food: Baked ziti

Animal: Red panda

[ac-art-and-stuff]

Heyo! Meet the person doin the art stuff!

( • ̀ω•́ )✧

Issa meee! In case one cannot read my chicken scratch handwriting, here's the rundown under the cut:

My name is AC, 25*, Sagittarius, She/her and They/them, from the USA. I've got two cats (Tux and Dragon) and two dogs (Marti and Coco) whomst I love very much. I'm also Bi/Omni and my gender is fluid (at least those are the labels that fit me in this portion of my life)

Fun Facts! I'm a rightie but I lead with my left foot (which is uncommon for those who are right hand dominant, I believe) I think that's because it's a habit from when I was learning Tae Kwon Do. I have three tattoos (currently, but I've got plans for MORE) and one of them is a glowy UV ink tattoo of the 2017 total solar eclipse! I was also on a bowling league! I think my highest game was 267 but it's been literal years so I could be off.

I like: cats, music (seriously the playlist I consistently listen to has a little bit of everything), vampires (or more generally gothic stuff), whiskey, pins and stickers (I have a little collection), writing, fantasy, and all things beachy!

I dislike: avocado, clowns (coulrophobia baybee!), the sound of scraping against ice/ice skating, piercing noises in general, anxiety (it is HELL), and my own handwriting lol

and for the little blurbs next to me: Yes, my ears are pointy, I'm 5' 4", I have a memorial tattoo on my arm (it's representative of my grandparents), comfort above ALL, I have a blue ringed octopus tattoo on my thigh, and ankle socks FTW

*Gotta update the pic

[lboogie1906]

Tracy Lauren Marrow (born February 16, 1958), known by his stage name Ice-T, is a musician, rapper, songwriter, actor, record producer, and author. He began his career as an underground rapper in the 1980s and was signed to Sire Records in 1987 when he released his debut album Rhyme Pays; the second hip-hop album to carry an explicit content sticker after Slick Rick’s La Di Da Di. He founded the record label Rhyme $yndicate Records and released another album, Power, which went on to go Platinum. He released several other albums that went Gold.

He was born in Newark, New Jersey to Solomon and Alice Marrow.

He co-founded the heavy metal band Body Count, which he introduced on his 1991 rap album O.G.: Original Gangster, on the track titled “Body Count”. The band released its self-titled debut album in 1992. He encountered controversy over his track “Cop Killer”, the lyrics of which discussed killing police officers. He asked to be released from his contract with Warner Bros. Records, and his next solo album, Home Invasion, was released in February 1993 through Priority Records. Body Count’s next album was released in 1994, and he released two more albums in the late 1990s. He has portrayed NYPD Detective/Sergeant Odafin Tutuola on Law & Order: Special Victims Unit.

He married Nicole “Coco” Austin (2002) and they have a daughter. He has two other children. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[eazy-group]

Ultrarunner Andrew Glaze Shares Dinner Miles and Hard-Earned Smiles

New Post has been published on https://eazycamping.net/ultrarunner-andrew-glaze-shares-dinner-miles-and-hard-earned-smiles/

Ultrarunner Andrew Glaze Shares Dinner Miles and Hard-Earned Smiles

A few months ago, Andrew Glaze would say “dinner miles” as a joke when he ran at night. The way it went was he would feed his body and his legs. It was a playful way to excuse himself and go for a run. 

Then, he started saying it on social media. In videos on his Instagram and TikTok channels, he used it as a sort of catchphrase followed by: “I’m feeding my legs miles because my legs are hungry.” Soon after, “dinner miles” started trending among his more than 465,000 followers.  

People from all over the world started sending him videos tagged “dinner miles” as well as “breakfast miles” and sometimes “brunch miles.” It generated so much buzz that he launched the Dinner Miles Club on the running app Strava. In just a few weeks, it gained more than 1,600 members. 

Dinner Miles might sound like a run-of-the-mill social media strategy, but unlike influencers, Glaze doesn’t make money from his posts. In an interview with Outdoors.com, the 45-year-old ultrarunner explained that he kind of rejects the idea of getting paid for his content.  

“There’s a little bit of punk rock still in me where I’m ‘F corporations.’ I’m not a NASCAR. You’re not gonna put your little label on me. You can’t buy me,” he said. “I definitely have a little bit of that on the inside.”

The Ultrarunner

Andrew Glaze holds up his race bib ahead of the Rocky Raccoon 100 miler near Huntsville, Alabama in February 2023. Source: Andrew Glaze

Glaze started running at age 24 as a way to deal with anxiety and depression, which he said was the result of an unhealthy lifestyle and inactivity. Then, about 10 years ago, he signed up for a 24-hour tough mudder. 

“I was like, ‘I’m gonna be running really far in 24 hours so I better train for that.’ And so the way I trained for it was running a couple of 50Ks, which is 31 miles, and that’s sort of like the rabbit hole of getting into ultras,” he said. 

While he found the tough mudder to be hard on his body — he didn’t want to blow out a knee or shoulder — he liked the endurance challenge, so he decided to stick with running. And he pretty much hasn’t stopped since.

However, he has a lot more responsibility today. He’s a firefighter and a captain in his department, a husband, and a father of three, so he runs for the same reasons he started and more. As a runner, he covers nearly 8,000 miles a year, competes in ultras all over the country, and he regularly films his activities. 

In most of his videos, he’s running with his phone in his hand, taking a dip into an ice bath, or sitting in a sauna — his “daily reminder to do hard things” — but almost every week, he posts about a major event like a long run or race. One of his most recent adventures was a wild one. 

The Coco Canyons 350

On April 28, Glaze finished the Canyon Endurance Race in the California foothills of the Sierra Nevada range in just under 28 hours. Running a 100-mile race is good enough for most people for the week, but a couple of days later, Glaze headed over to run the Cocodona 250. As the name implies, it’s a 250-mile race from Black Canyon City to Flagstaff, Arizona. 

He said he wanted to run 350 miles in less than a week to challenge himself, and challenge himself he did. Over four days, 12 hours, 22 minutes, and 58 seconds, he pushed his body to emotional and physical extremes. While he started and finished with a smile, he also cried tears of joy, hallucinated objects emerging from the ground, and at times struggled to stay awake while running. 

Why push himself to these extremes? Glaze is an ultrarunner, and that’s what ultrarunners do. They endure the pain and discomfort that come with running extremely long distances. It’s about the journey, not the destination. But why record these vulnerable moments and post them on the internet for all to see?

The Vlogging Runner

While it may seem like his running and vlogging go hand-in-hand, Glaze said his motivations come from different places. He runs not just because it’s therapeutic but also because he loves it. With a three-year running streak of covering more than 100 miles per week, it’s fair to say he has an obsession. 

What keeps Glaze making content, though, is the same reason he launched the Dinner Miles Club: it’s his way of inspiring others to run. “If people are running and thinking of me and putting that energy out in the world, I feel like I’m successful in my endeavor of why I’m doing all this,” he said.

Andrew Glaze at the top of Mount Langley in the Sierra Nevada in August 2022. Source: Andrew Glaze

However, another explanation for his vlogging is that it’s simply easy to do thanks to platforms like Instagram and TikTok. If you look back to his early videos, some nine years on YouTube, you can tell he added some production value, but they’re not as personal. If you ask him what changed, he’ll say the platforms. 

“I think I kind of like tripped into this whole thing because I’ve always made videos but they never went viral. But now that there’s a new format that makes videos so much easier to make and upload, I’m just able to reach a lot more people.”

He explained with Instagram’s Reels and TikTok, he can make a video in five or 10 minutes and post it with just his phone and his videos will get millions of views. If he wanted the same results on Youtube, he’d need to invest more time and money into equipment. 

“It’s funny because I’ve always sort of made videos of my races and stuff, but back in the day, it wasn’t quite as easy to do. I’d videotape myself, but then I didn’t really have the proper software to edit it or do anything,” he said. “None of that was really easy to do back then.”

The Glazeruns Channel

At the end of the day, Glaze runs and makes content because it makes him feel good. He records the joy that he gets out of running, but he doesn’t shy away from the challenges involved with the sport. He relates to his audience, sharing his successes, failures, goals, and gear list. It’s as if it’s in his nature. 

“I like to make (videos) because I want to be helping people,” he said. “I got into the fire service because I truly wanted to help people. I’m a paramedic and I’ve been on teams that have saved a lot of lives, and it’s very rewarding to do something like that, and likewise with the social media.”

Glaze explained he gets messages every day from people he inspired to start running and they’ve inspired someone else to start running. 

“I’m not trying to make money. I’m just like trying to push good into the world because there’s so much negativity and there’s so much bad in the world right now,” he said. 

“If I could just make the smallest amount of difference before I die, then I’ll feel like I can die happy,” he concludes. “As cliché as that sounds, I really truly believe that in the deepest part of my soul.”

Source

[likemosaic]

coco bites back her insecurity about it, keeps her expression even. if he wants a reaction, it's not forthcoming—yet. instead, she sucks on her straw obnoxiously and loudly before she answers, tone careless, "iiiiii dunno about that. felt pretty personal to me. like, compensating for something? i mean, i get it. yatsu makes all the short guys reeeeally upset."

* 🙴 @likemosaic ; ❝ s'nothing personal, i promise—— we would have trashed anyone else too. just so happened to be your team that round. ❞

[likemosaic]

@veiliisms sent an ask : ❛ You already lost. Don’t throw away your dignity.  ❜ vee to coco i wanna see some fighting >:) GAME STARTERS VOL. 3 | FALLOUT: NEW VEGAS

coco wipes the sweat off her forehead, giving vera as mean a glare as she can manage. she's never been good at close combat and though she knows it, it doesn't stop her from going round after round with a superior opponent, sweat dripping down her back. her pride is stronger than the ache in her arms or the annoyance of the other's smug expression (don't french people always look smug, anyway?).

"ouai, ouai, maman," said with a sarcastic wave of the hand. coco takes a moment to swig off of her water bottle and brush the loose strands of her ponytail back. she's enjoying the challenge, truthfully. she doesn't really understand what beef they have, but that's been her whole life: most people end up head over heels in love with her, and the rest dislike her for their own reasons. no one has ever been neutral about coco labelle; vermilion is no exception. if it weren't for renji, coco wouldn't really give a shit about the negative opinions. but she likes a fight, and maybe they'll come out of their sparring match a little friendlier. win-win.

"jokes on you, i never had dignity in the first place." coco pushes her sweaty hair out of her face, drinking from a water bottle that is ungodly expensive, wearing workout gear that could break a lesser woman's bank. "what, you're not having any fun beating the shit out of me?"

[aquoteamusetheword]

Coco – Nut

 “Life is short, lick the bowl” – Julia Child

 I have loved coconut for as long as I can remember. I love coconut cake, Mounds bars, Almond Joy, Outshine coconut bars, coconut ice cream, coconut milk, virgin pina coladas, coconut shrimp, coconut shampoo, tropical coconut air freshener in my car… (this is starting to have a Forrest Gump vibe), you get the idea.

 I can trace my fascination with coconut back to two origins.

 The first is every Easter of my young life. I remember waking up in the middle of the night hearing the plastic from my easter basket being placed in my room. I was terrified, not daring to sneak a peek at the imagined six-foot-tall Easter Bunny at the foot of my bed. Once and if I was able to go back to sleep, I would awake to an amazing Easter basket, with a 3-foot-tall chocolate bunny (not a hollow one mind you). There would be baby powder “bunny tracks” making their way to the holy grail of my Easter… (trumpets sounding) my coconut bunny cake, with different colored coconut for the pink ears and a gum drop nose. Me consuming over half of the cake in one sitting was not uncommon. It is entirely probable that much of the ADHD epidemic of my generation was a misdiagnosis; it may have been over consumption of bunny cakes.  I am not ashamed to admit, mom made these cakes well into my teens.

 The second is the world-famous Lorene Thompson six-layer (spontaneous diabetes) coconut cake. Whenever I visited, my grandmother made this cake. This cake is even the subject of Thompson’s folklore. After a trip to Albertville, Alabama, my stepmom Cherryl saved a piece and took it all the way back to Texas. After a meal she relished the last piece, my Pops walked by and scooped off all of the ambrosia that was the icing and licked it off his finger. If a marriage can survive this…

 She even showed me how to make it once. The ingredients were Betty Crocker white cake mix, two fresh coconuts, a 50-gallon oil drum of Crisco, 24 eggs and all of the sugar in the world. Seriously, she would hand shave two coconuts, emulsify some of it in sweetened condensed milk. Then cut three cake layers in half, poke holes in the cake with toothpicks, douse each layer with the milk. She would whip up four cups of egg white icing (fortified with more coconut), there was a layer of icing on the entire cake and in between each layer. Finally, the entire thing was dusted with the remaining shredded coconut. If you tried to create a nutritional information label for this behemoth it would look like a CVS receipt. But it was all ok, she used Splenda to make her sweet tea.

 Love and coconuts…

Happy belated Mother’s Day to Mom and Cherryl.

[venusiangguk]

may we see the fight tae oc scene pls pls please!!! u can delete later🤔🤔🤔🤔😳😳😳😳 i’m really curious. i mean ofc u don’t have to. still 😧🙃

idealizations concerning real life relations: deleted scene

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / icrlr!couple

>>genre: fwb, angst, rated PG

>>word count: 2.5k

>>warnings: alcohol, implied smut

>>notes: this is a deleted scene from icrlr, that i omitted simply because of the length of the final fic!! feel free to skip or ignore, it doesn't change anything, but since u guys are curious about it, i'll post it as a lil ty for helping me hit that milestone <3 it takes place after the tattoo party scene, and before the lecture scene.

this does NOT provide an alternative ending.

>>summary: taehyung tries to make you see things for what they really are, but it's hard to see through the rose colored glasses.

Winter break has been long awaited and it is finally, finally here. The snow has coated the ground thick, making the town look like a winter wonderland. The air is sharp and cold but not to a miserable extent. Just chilly enough to bundle up, to hold a hand a little tighter and soak up their warmth.

Your favorite season is fall, but the later months are a close second. You love seeing the way everyone’s faces get red when snow flurries come down to kiss their nose and cheeks. Love the way pom poms bounce atop little hats as children play and have snowball fights. Winter is surprisingly one of the warmest, sweetest times of the year. Like the hot coco Jeongguk has been swapping your regular macchiato with lately.

There’s a greatly anticipated party tonight- a mashup of Taehyung’s birthday and New Year’s Eve. Anticipated for the simple fact that said birthday boy has steadily been ignoring you for weeks, and tonight was a night where he couldn’t evade your attempts of reconciliation. He hasn’t returned a single call or even sent a text back. You can’t even be mad at him really, you know it’s justified. You know you fucked up. The coffee date you had with Yoongi last week let you know what you did.

Over an iced coffee, you learned that you had unintentionally skipped out on your best friend's Winter Showcase. The important one that he mentioned multiple times. The one you promised to attend no matter what.

It wasn’t on purpose; you wanted to go, to support him. But you just got caught up. In life, in school, in Jeongguk. It happens.

When Yoongi asked you why you had missed it, when he told you how hurt Taehyung was by your absence, your heart dropped, sank deep within your chest as your mouth fell open before closing, a small pursed frown on your lips. You didn’t have a good excuse. You went to get tattoos with Jeongguk and then to a party where you fucked him, and then home after that? You were too tired to make it? You just simply forgot? Those excuses weren’t good enough for you and you knew they wouldn’t be good enough for Taehyung.

Whereas Yoongi was okay with distance, long periods in between hanging out and talking, Taehyung wasn’t. He was the kind of friend that needed support, reassurance that you cared. He liked quality time and hangs outs that were planned ahead so he could look forward to them. He was looking forward to you being at his showcase.

The party is packed, even more so than usual. Students, drop-outs, alumni, and randoms alike, all congregate to bring in the new year, to celebrate the end of finals, and a certain art majors birthday. Bodies are on bodies, music is loud and deafening. Cups, bottles, and small baggies litter the floor and the smell of weed is nauseating.

Jeongguk’s hand in yours is sweet, though. Enough to ebb the distaste in your mouth as you watch the stereotypical disaster that is a college party.

“I’m going to go find the drinks, okay?” you lie, squeezing Jeongguk’s hand lightly.

He squeezes back, kisses the side of your head as he says, “Bring me one back too?”

You nod, and slip out of his view. Scanning the crowd until you see a familiar face.

Jimin is laughing, red cup in his hand, eyes curled and happy. He’s sitting on the arm of a couch, legs swinging as he laughs with a group of people. He takes a drink from his cup and let’s his eyes roam the room like he’s looking for someone.

The way his face changes when he sees you approaching is like a punch in the gut. It goes from happy, and carefree to stony- only a small, irritated, close-lipped smile on his face. Eyes harsh and cold, no longer holding the mirth they were just seconds ago. He says nothing when you step in front of him, he just looks you over like he’s bored and waiting for you to get on with it so he can be done with it.

You shift on your feet under his scrutiny. “Where’s Tae?” you ask.

Jimin narrows his eyes at you and tilts his head. “Now you want to know where he is? Haven’t been concerned with his whereabouts for months. Definitely weren’t worried about it last week.”

You wince but carry on swiftly. “Listen, I know I fucked up. I’m here to apologize.” You look at him expectantly, but he holds his ground. When he doesn’t falter, you resort to begging, “Please, Jimin. He’s my best friend… I miss him.”

You must look pitiful, because Jimin’s indifferent facade fades, and he clicks his tongue like he’s annoyed at himself for giving into you. “He’s getting us drinks in the kitchen.”

A smile takes over your face as you rush out a ‘thank you’, quickly turning on your heel to head in the opposite direction, before Jimin calls after you.

“Yeah?” you ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

“If he’s your best friend, maybe treat him like it, yeah?”

You continue to the kitchen without replying, and you can’t help the little simmer of annoyance that bubbles in your chest. Taehyung has been your best friend for years. And even though Jimin had a point, who was he to tell you anything about yours and Taehyung’s friendship?

Before the thought can fester, however, you see the boy you came looking for, two bottles of vodka in his hand like he’s trying to decide which to use. You see the little party hat atop his shaggy hair before anything else and your heart aches a little. You really did miss him. He lets out a small annoyed sound, and knowing him, he’s probably trying to figure out which has the highest alcohol percentage. You come up next to him, and say his name gently. He jumps, but when he realizes it’s you, the ghost of a smile curls on his lips like he’s happy to see you.

Until it’s replaced with resentment just as quickly. His sharp eyes squint at you before turning back to the bottles in his hands, scowl still in place.

“So you decided you could pencil me in between getting your heart toyed with and your back blown out?” He gives you a side glance and sees how your jaw drops in surprise. He carries on, unbothered. “Or did this just work out because it coincides with New Year’s and because he was invited? Only because he’s Jimin’s friend might I add.”

“Tae-” you try, doing your best to keep the hurt whine out of your tone.

“Save it, __. I don’t want to hear the excuses you have. Just-” he looks at you again, and you think that maybe he softens when he sees your crestfallen features. He sighs like he’s tired. “Just leave me alone. Just for a bit, okay? I’ll get over it eventually,” he finishes, finally deciding on the vodka he wants.

You know his request isn't unreasonable. But it’s already been so long that the distance in your friendship has been eating away at it, that you’re scared ‘eventually’ might take too long and by the time he comes around, there won’t be much of a friendship left. That the damage done, will be irreparable.

“Tae… It’s already been months, can’t we-”

Like night and day, the softness that you were able to pull out of him is immediately replaced with that resentment and anger you were met with when you first stepped into the kitchen.

“Yeah,” he seethes, strong brows furrowed. “And whose fault is that?”

His words are sharp and the sting from them makes you take a step back. That is, until you feel anger of your own creep up your throat like venom. “You’re one to talk, Taehyung. You could have reached out to me, too. You’re no better than me when you’re in a relationship.”

He groans, gives an exasperated laugh before shrugging. “You know what? Maybe I am just as bad as you, but at least I’m actually in a relationship,” he spits, “You’re just fucking someone that doesn’t give a fuck about you.”

You know he’s hurt because of the distance. That he doesn’t intend to be so mean. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less, and it doesn’t stop the angry tears from pooling in your eyes.

And although you’re angry, almost shaking with rage at the feeling of being cornered and blamed, your heart aches at hearing his words.

Jimin, who started seeing Taehyung after you started seeing Jeongguk, had already made your friend official. Had given him the title, the commitment, the relationship that you had been patiently and understandingly waiting for with Jeongguk. The bitterness that bleeds into your heart makes you feel gross and ugly.

You know what they say; that labels are superficial and don’t mean that much. But when you don’t have them? It makes you wonder. If a label really isn’t that important, like everyone says, why is Jeongguk so reluctant to give one to you?

“Jimin’s your boyfriend?” you whisper.

Taehyung gives you a short nod. “Month and half ago. You would’ve known if you got your head out of Jeongguk’s ass.”

Almost like he was summoned, the topic of debate waltz into the room, coming up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He nuzzles into your neck.

It’s instinctual now, the way your body responds to him. The way you melt into his chest like second-nature, how your hands settle over his like they are keeping them in place. How immediately in his presence you feel calmer; the panicky, hurt feeling you were experiencing moments ago vanishing as if it were just a fleeting thought and not something that’s always in the back of your head.

Not in a possessive, ���I need him to be mine’ kind of way, though.

More like, ‘Why won’t he be mine?’

“Hi,” he murmurs into your neck.

“Hi, baby,” you respond softly, out of habit. The room shirks around you whenever he’s near. Makes you feel like you’re in your own bubble with him.

Jeongguk’s about to reply, ask where the drinks are, but then he hears an annoyed scoff sound in front of you both. Jeongguk bristles as he looks up and sees Taehyung taking a big swig from his cup.

“Uh- am I interrupting? Should I go?” he asks hesitantly, looking between you and your friend.

“No-” you say at the same time that Taehyung says, “Yes.”

You cringe, and turn in Jeongguk’s arms, hands resting on his chest. “Just give me a couple more minutes okay? I’ll bring the drinks.”

Jeongguk searches your eyes, before looking at Taehyung one last time before giving you a stern nod and a quick kiss.

You turn back to Taehyung, ready to apologize for Jeongguk’s interruption, when he talks over you.

“You’re pathetic,” he starts, and you roll your eyes with an irritated sigh before he continues, “but I know you love him. And that you can’t help it,” he shrugs. “But as your friend, I have to tell you that it’s not going to end well. You probably don’t even need me to tell you that. You probably already know and are choosing to ignore it for the sake of the delusions you’ve made up in your ‘pretty little head’.”

You pout at him quoting you, and your brows furrow. “He cares about me. And he’s Jimin’s best friend. He’s a good person, you don’t even know him,” you argue defensively. Though you know your arguments make little sense and are flimsy at best.

Taehyung frowns. Pauses like he’s thinking.

“I didn’t say he was a bad person, and maybe he does care about you in his own messed up way. But he doesn’t care about you in the way that you want him to.” His lips are still down turned when he speaks again.

“And the difference between him with you and him with Jimin is astronomical; it shouldn’t even be a comparison, but I will humor you,” he rubs a hand up and down his face like he’s tired. “The dynamic is completely different, for obvious reasons. For one, Jimin is a safe relationship. You are not. Jimin isn’t in love with him, Jimin isn’t sucking his dick, and Jimin doesn’t want things from Jeongguk that Jeongguk cannot give, or does not want to give,” he says with a raised brow as he takes a sip of his drink.

It seems that the anger has died down some between you both, a semi-civil conversation finally being had. You wrinkle your brows in confusion at him. “What are you talking about?”

He rolls his eyes. “Cmon __. Why do you think he hasn’t made you his girlfriend? Why do you think he literally has not been in a serious relationship since high school? Why do you think he never agrees to anything more than 2 months out?” He waits for you to answer but you just purse your lips stubbornly. “He’s scared. Dare I say terrified of commitment, and that’s exactly what you want from him right?”

You stay headstrong and quiet for a moment longer, ignoring his question in favor of asking one of your own when you finally do speak up. “If I’m so scary, why hasn’t he left?”

Taehyung shrugs. “Fuck if I know? Maybe he does care about you like you say he does. I don’t think so, but hey,” He raises his hands in mock surrender, like he is throwing in the figurative towel. “Maybe you’re right and maybe I‘m wrong. Or maybe there’s some fucked up codependency fermenting between you both when you copulate. I genuinely have no clue, and frankly, I don’t care to find out. Don’t text me until you come to your senses. And don’t get mad when I tell you ‘I told you so’.”

And with that, he turns and leaves you to make your own drinks. You hope the smile you give Jeongguk when you find him is believable.

That night when you go back to his place, you voice your concerns to him in between sweet, heated kisses that taste like hot cider. You tell him hesitantly how Taehyung voiced his concerns about Jeongguk not caring about you and Jeongguk got a little irritated, a little miffed as he unlatched his lips from your neck. He asked what Taehyung knew, how he even came to that conclusion when he’s not around you both.

He assured you with gentle touches and tender words that of course he cares about you. He reminded you that he always makes time for you, he always answers your calls and your texts, he takes you out every now and then, too. He asks you what you think and when you contemplate your answer, going over what he said, you can’t really argue with him. Even if an uneasy, dismal feeling settles in the pit of your tummy.

~~~

hellooo!! again, this is just a scene and part of the plot that i chose not to use because i felt like the fic was already so long. i wish that i had ended up including it tho, so i hope you enjoyed even though its nothing special <3 feel free to do the things if you liked it: like, comment, reblog, send an ask~~ love u, ty again for helping me reach that milestone <3

[likemosaic]

coco pouts even more intensely than before, her lower lip stuck out in an obnoxious expression. then immediately grins, mischief glinting in her eyes. "you're so mean to me," she sighs, but she's still smiling, mirroring renji. yes, she's flirting. and to think they were cat-fighting not all that long ago. "i'm trying to set you up for success with women here, you know. you're already so handsome, you just need a little boost." coco's too embarrassed to say it explicitly, but whatever she buys here for renji, she plans on tailoring to their body, both for comfort and so his prosthetic arm will fit comfortably. yes, she's down bad, don't laugh.

and though she's very certainly too embarrassed to say this either, it's a sign of coco's affection that she's trying to dress renji up like a doll--however materialistic it may seem of her. coco's japanese is still shoddy (and improving, thanks to renji), but she catches afton's name, and her mood instantly sours a smidgen. if she knew what they were saying, she'd probably just laugh, but her insecurity (and the fact that afton and vera weren't immediately charmed by coco's crass attitude) makes her defensive.

"don't speak the name of the devil in a holy place," coco says sarcastically, hand on her hip (all department stores being places of worship, of course). "maybe i'll dress him up as prince next, since you don't want to participate. hey, if it works and he starts dating, maybe he'll chill the fuck out and hop off my ass. you know, i think he's just jealous that i get you all to myself these days." she throws another pair of pants into the cart (these ones a bit closer to something renji might actually wear, because she's a merciful goddess). either way, sorry renji, but she's decided for you. say a prayer.

*RENJI & COCO. / @likemosaic​ from x.

there’s the heaviest urge to roll his eyes, but, for her, he’ll refrain. (at least, until she turns back to the rack. then, it’s very hard to contain. when she turns back with those outrageous pants, he shakes his head, but he can’t help the mile-wide smile on his face. “i am not wearing those,” he says, voice threatening to let out a laugh. he looks down at the clothes in his hands, glances over to a mirror to see what he’s wearing now.

they’re all… a stark contrast to what he wears, where he usually shops. they’re nice clothes! don’t get him wrong, they’re all nice, but… it’s. different, from the distressed jeans, the flannel under the leather jacket, a simple and modern taste for someone who changes clothes like… well, like they change socks. they look back towards coco, but their brows raise when he catches sight of the name on the current garment.

“i don’t think i look anything like prince, coco,” he then chuckles, absolutely not thrilled about the thought of wearing the jacket. “and i’m not exactly in the market of getting, uh. so many bitches, as you so… eloquently put it.” he then says something in japanese, something akin to, and i thought afton had a way with words. 

[minimel-fics]

A True Gem

Creeper Vargas X Reader

Everyone thinks you’re eccentric but Creep embraces your quirks.

I wrote this three times because it just didn’t hit the first two times 🙃

Masterlist

- - -

Y/n's Flowers, the best floral shop in town - your prices were always low and your flowers always fresh. The shop was always busy, whether it was a lineup out the door on Valentine’s Day or the non-stop delivery calls every day of the week. Your best customers were your most unexpected, the men of the Santo Padre charter of the Mayan's M.C. A biker or two wandered into your shop every week in search of an apology bouquet for the special women of their lives. Your shop neighbouring Felipe Reyes Carniceria meant you were most familiar with his two sons, both were kind to you despite the town labelling you as eccentric and weird. Every morning before you started organizing your deliveries, you sat at the small chair set outside the shop with a cup of tea and your latest inventory list to mentally arrange bouquets based upon planned deliveries and left over flowers. The familiar rumble of motorcycles caused you to look up from your notebook, you figured it was the Reyes brothers stopping by their father's shop but you were surprised to find that Angel was being accompanied by Creeper. You had met Creeper when he had come along with Coco and neither of you had meant for it to happen but you had been in a secret relationship for about 6 months now. Creeper had found himself intrigued by you, the bright colours you wore and the obscene amount of jewelry that earned you your eccentric title had been one of the things that had drawn him back to your shop the very next day.

You quickly refocused on your notebook as the men parked their bikes, pretending to look busy and like you had not just been starring at your boyfriend as he was focused on the road. You glanced back up from your book as the men approached you instead of the shop next door.

"What did you do this time, Reyes?" You asked, sending both men a cheerful smile.

Angel scoffed, “What makes you think it was me? Creeper could have pissed off his girl."

“I highly doubt that,” You teased as you stood from the chair, opening the door for the two men. You sent Creeper a wink when Angel wasn’t looking and he resisted the urge to wrap his arms around you in the presence of his brother, “Come on in."

As Angel browsed the shop, you begun your work for the day, piling bundles of fresh, uncut flowers onto the counter to arrange into bouquets. Creeper eventually made his way to the counter, growing bored with his brothers indecision very quickly.

"What did he do this time?" You inquired, glancing up to meet the sunglass covered eyes of your boyfriend.

“He forgot to bring Nails her ice cream two nights in a row.”

You cringed as you turned your attention back to the flowers at hand, “Never a good idea to forget a pregnant lady’s ice cream.”

“Choose the one with the white flowers, bro.” Creeper had noticed that Angel was struggling between two large bouquets, glancing back and forth between the one in his hand and the one still in the display.

“White peonies are a sign of regret and apology.” You didn’t even have to look up to know exactly which bouquets Angel was eyeing, or to hear him trade the one he was holding with the one Creeper and you had suggested. You gently pushed aside some of the flowers, making room to wrap the bouquet Angel was purchasing with brightly coloured paper and a neat little bow, Creeper found himself unable to take his eyes off the way your ring adorned fingers brushed so delicately against the paper. Angel was quick to notice the interaction, smirking to himself as he dug his wallet out of his pocket. He threw a 20 onto the counter, ignoring your protest when he had told you to keep the change before he nudged Creeper toward the door. Creeper fell behind Angel, pausing for the briefest second when he thought Angel wasn’t paying attention to brush his fingers along yours as he offered you a smile.

Creeper had become so accustomed to wearing the beaded bracelets and pendant necklaces that you gifted to him to remember he was wearing them most of the time- the guys had noticed the purple amethyst beads adorning his wrist as they sat around the table at the clubhouse. After you had noticed the previous week that Creeper seemed to be trapped in his own thoughts more than usual, you had gifted him the amethyst jewelry to ‘block out negative energy and cleanse his mind by bringing serenity to his soul’, he had thought it was a rather thoughtful gift and immediately slipped the beads onto his wrist. He was a firm believer in healthy body = healthy mind so what was extending that to healthy body = healthy mind = healthy spirit, which was probably why your relationship worked out so well.

“You get that from Y/N?” Angel recalled the small tower of gem jewelry you always kept on your shop counter, all similar to the things that you usually wore, but he did not recall Creeper leaving the other day with that particular bracelet on his wrist.

“What gugu shit did she spew about this one?”

Creeper frowned as he listened to his brothers bad mouth his girl and her belief in the healing power of gemstones before he sent the men a steel glare, “Amethyst is for protection of the mind and spirit. It ain’t shit, you should try it.”

“I think Creeps got a crush.” Gilly spoke, shoving his brother’s shoulder as he teased him.

“Nah,” Angel disagreed, “I think they’re together. I ain’t ever seen her give anyone googly eyes like that before.”

“You love her, bro?”

Creeper arrived at your house later that night, pulling his bike into the garage just as he had every night since you had gifted him a key. He had made a stop on his way from the clubhouse, he knew that you had left the shop early that day leaving the other woman you employed in charge and he had taken the opportunity to stop and buy you your very own bouquet of flowers. He had gone with a simplistic piece that had red roses as the center piece, a flower he knew was a symbol of love would be a perfect surprise for you tonight. He found you in the kitchen, slaving over the hot stove in preparation for your planned date night. He debated sneaking up on you but he knew that you would most likely burn yourself if he did that so he stuck with clearing his throat to announce his presence. Setting the large spoon on the counter you turned around to properly greet your boyfriend before you spotted the flowers in his hands.

“No one’s ever bought me flowers before.”

“A beautiful woman like you? You deserve a thousand roses.”

You stepped forward, gently taking the roses from his hands and placing them onto the counter before you pressed your body right against his own, your hands finding the back of his bald head and pulling his lips down to meet yours in a passion filled kiss. “Thank you, Neron.”

“I love you.” He didn’t hesitate like he was afraid he might, neither of you had said those three words to each other before even though it was quite clear in your eyes. You felt your heart swell in your chest as you looked up toward the man you could see yourself greeting at the door every day for the rest of your life, “I love you too.”

----

Join a taglist here.

@chibsytelford @mijop @bellisperennis0

The automatic Creeper tag @redpoodlern

[beepbopboyathon]

winter hc request! how do the main 6 make hot cocoa? (Or other hot drinks they like?) milk, water, marshmallows? (I know someone who just melts chocolate ice cream which is cursed,, but effective)

We’re just gonna ignore how I’m answering this after literally a year but the ice cream hot chocolate has been haunting me this whole time lol. I stopped liking the arcana a while ago but I got covid so I’m quarantining and my interest in it came back.

Main 6's favorite hot drinks/ fall drinks

Asra:

Definitely a iced drink over a hot drink person but he’ll try anything once and likes to switch things up often.

Also drinks more teas and coffees over coco. He likes them all, just more of a savory person over sweet.

He puts the weirdest milks he can find in his drinks, currently the weirdest he’s tried is dolphin. He’s currently searching for something to top it.

He alternates wildly between practically all milk and cream drinks and absolutely straight coffee/tea/coco, you can probably create a weather forecast if you pay enough attention to when he does what.

When you first met him he never had a plain drink, he always had some mixture of cream, sprinkles, marshmallow, etc in it. He never had the option to do it as a kid so when he had the means to do it he did.

He often mixes many drinks into one, he’s had coffee tea and coco all together at least twice.

Nadia:

Has tea broken down to a science and has created a personalized blend for each of her friends.

Before her coma she was practically a caffeine addict and spent many days in her room tinkering in a coffee fueled haze. After her coma she tried to stick to tea over coffee because sometimes the smell of black coffee would irritate her headaches

She sometimes will get tired of plain drinks and orders things to melt into her drinks, her favorite one is a custom order of a white chocolate owl that makes the drinks shimmery.

I headcannon her as lactose intolerant so she doesn’t like to add milk to her coffees and teas.

She still uses milk as her base when making hot chocolate because that’s how Portia did it when she woke up and it just feels weird to have it any other way now.

She always tries to learn about the foods from whatever place she’s interacting with at the time, so far her favorite is glühwein from Firent.

Julian:

Obviously he consumes a stupid amount of black coffee no matter what season.

He’s surprisingly picky about the details of it though, he wants a certain merchant’s ,grown in certain conditions, and ground to a consistency he likes. Julian is to coffee as Valerius is to wine.

Catch him when he’s stressed or tired enough and he’ll take anything labeled coffee but he will complain about it. Its not that it tastes bad it’s just that he knows how much better it can be.

He’s ungodly with any other beverage though, nothing is safe. He’s brewed tea with salt water a few times and once served it to Asra (without warning).

If you give him hot chocolate made by Portia while he’s in a certain mood he will cry.

If it gets cold enough he will heat up salty bitters to drink like a fall beverage, depending on who you ask some people think it’s better that way.

Portia:

As you can guess she’s the god of hot chocolate, she’s in general the queen of fall (and spring) so she’s mastered any hot drink you can think of.

Also her collection of coffee cups is to die for, especially in a modern au.

She never drinks tea/coco/coffee without milk in it, it doesn’t even have that much to do with the taste anymore it’s just more of a personal ritual for her.

She doesn’t like how jittery caffeine makes her so she sticks to decaf but she keeps Julians favorite around her house even when he’s gone.

She’s a firm believer that cold drinks are for summer and spring and hot drinks are for fall and winter and she refuses to cross that line at all.

When she even slightly thinks she could be getting sick she will drink chicken broth like it’s an actual beverage.

Muriel:

Never embellishes any drink besides coffee on his own because it seems unnecessary but will generally match it to whoever he’s drinking with.

On that note he has tried every type of milk asra has out of curiosity, they kinda made it their version of a girls night.

He really likes drinking plain hot water before he goes to bed, he likes the warm feeling in his chest but doesn’t want to deal with making it an actual drink like tea.

During his years in the coliseum he drank almost exclusively black coffee and now the only time he’ll drink coffee without making it 90% milk and cream is when he’s feeling really depressed.

He has a really weird habit of taking sips of his homemade paint when he makes new ones, it’s herbs and water so it’s drinkable and he just thinks it’s funny that it’s technically supposed to be paint.

He likes chocolate chips and marshmallows in his hot chocolate but he only makes it with water because he feels weird drinking milk casually.

Lucio:

He grew up on exclusively herbal teas and water, and he had to drink a lot of medicinal herb mixtures when he had the plague, so he really likes strongly flavored rich hot chocolate.

When he gets nostalgic though he drinks watery teas, his go to is dandelion. He doesn’t enjoy the taste at all it’s just something he does for the experience.

He’s the most likely to put ice cream in hot chocolate, the thicker and creamier he can get it the better.

He doesn’t like coffee at all even with a lot of cream in it, when he gets tired he’s more the type to bounce around to wake himself up. But for the majority of his life he’s had pretty high stamina so he doesn’t worry about it much to begin with.

If you even THINK of bringing him hot chocolate made with water instead of milk you’re spending a few days in the humiliation pit.

He actually really enjoys just plain hot milk too, he likes drinking it the most on cold mornings.

[norafms]

“you carry the heavens in your eyes like one of those old greek tragedies. and i’d call you atlas but he wasn’t given the choice to hold the stars. 

                                                                                                      you were.”

backstory. spotify. pinterest.

hey it’s g again:) this is nora, kinda looks like a taylor swift / lana del rey song. a bitch but hides a giant heart. i also decided that proof reading isn’t a thing. i never heard of it. who put that idea in your head baby? are you having hallucinations? did you take your meds? or was it your friends... this is why i don’t let you hang out with them. also if u see something here that i already put in other bios... no you didn't mind ur business this is MY intro.

'mkay enjoy now xoxo

“i closed off all easy roads leading to me but i’m reachable if you are willing to go the extra mile.”

full name: eleonora ‘nora’ hoffman

age: thirty-seven

pronouns: she/her

sexuality: pansexual

star sign: taurus

date of birth: 13/05/1985

label: the femme fatale

occupation: fashion designer

neighborhood: downtown

alignment: neutral

personality type: entj

hogwarts house: ravenclaw

positive traits: elegant, sophisticated, self-confident, enticing, charismatic, determined, efficient, reliable, strategic, logical, eloquent, independent, meticulous, observant

negative traits: impatient, stubborn, ruthless, unattainable, workhaolic, perfectionist, manipulative, callous, inflexible, assertive, bossy, tactless, hopeless romantic

distinctive traits: very expensive sunglasses, always perfectly, movements so graceful that often make you look like you’re dancing

fashion style: expensive designer clothes most of which you designed that give you the looks of a old-fashioned diva on (has those elvira hancock/holly golightly vibes)

scent: cherry and expensive perfume

bad habits: smoking, overworking

theme song: cherry wine by hozier / baby one more time by the marias BUT ALSO any song from lana del rey rlly feeling watercolor eyes rn

aesthetics:

“i withdraw from people and places from time to time. i need space from a world that is filled with millions of mouths that talk too much, and never have anything to say.”

driving a motorcycle in high heels. sharp fingers tapping on a wine glass. a collection of vintage cabriolet cars you can pick from everyday. thigh high. knowing al the buttons to press to break a man. lipstick stains on linen napkins. a honey toned voice spewing harsh words never having to raise your town to assert yourself. a martini glass. stomping on scarlet kissed cigarette buts with stiletto heels. always being an inpactful presence everyone notices too many sets of silk lingerie night dresses with matching nightgowns. hair falling perfectly on your shoulders without any effort. never being overdressed, it’s the others that are underdressed. being fashionably late. an unmissable smile the sun is jealous of. being used to feeling everyone’s eyes on you. a hint of malice in the glimmer of your eyes. natural flair that appears easy everytime you move.  not being too expressive because it will give you wrinkles. a love out of a fairytale. dining by the tour eiffel at night. lace gloves. waking up at dawn to do your yoga exercises and your morning run.  never eating junkfood. expensive white wine or champagne. playing god. watching all your dreams crumble in front of your eyes. a heart that tries to burn under layers of ice.

character references:

“and here you come with a shiled for a heart and a sword for a tongue.”

jane smith ( ms & mr smith ) , katherine pierce ( the vampire diaries ), mrs robinson ( the graduate ) , coco chanel ( coco chanel ) , miranda priestly ( the devil wears prada ), spencer hastings ( pretty little liars ), fiona gallagher ( shameless) kathani sharma ( bridgerton ) , fallon morrell carrington ( dynasty ), blair waldrof ( gossip girls )

personality:

“when i was younger i used to say i would never end up this way.”

appearance:

not many dare to even look at you in the eye, switching gazes when you catch them staring. you’re unattainable, unapproachable, the independent, bossy woman who will take no one’s words but hers. people swallw down harshly when talking to you, often not looking at you in the eye, your patience is thin and they fear of surpassing the line: the smiles you offer hide sharp canines that you’re not afraid to show. you hate small talks and circling around the subject without tackling it headfirst, you always want to get straight to the point without fake pleasentries. you say things for how they are no matter how hurtful, and your eyes burn on people’s figure when you use them to scrutinize their behavior, clothes and attitude, though you observe and not judge, but if something doesn’t result appealing to you you will voice it without problems. you hold such authority that you never need to raise your voice, you always speak in the same hony tone, it’s the other that lower theirs. you have your way without any troubles, people take your words as law, and when you don’t you’re not afraid to raise hell always with elegance and flair. you could walk to hell and back and your perfect makeup would remain untouched.

to friends:

you’re not one for sentimental stuff so you’ll never admit it, but you deeply love your friends and find way to show it every day. your love languages are gift giving and quality time. if it comes to giving advice it depends on your mood and what is asked of you, sometimes you’ll roll your eyes and tell them to stop being so sensitive, othertimes you’ll pour a glass of wine and try to find the best words in your wide dictionary. your friends are not many, but true, as it’s difficult to find someone who won’t annoy you and you blocked all the roads to you, plus not everyone finds your presence pleasing. but you’re loyal, and even though sometimes you can be a little too detouched and harsh, you still find your ways to be likeable. not that you care, if you can call them friends it either means that they’ve accepted all your bad traits or that they share the same as yours. but behin layers and layers of cold ice you hide the warmest heart that at time shows, but you’re quick to lock it back in. you always love a good time and a good laugh.

to lovers:

you learnt from a young age that you could have anyone hooked just by the way you moved, quickly mastering the act of seduction. but you finished sleeping around the time you met your boyfriend. love interests you now more than ever, you wish and seek someone able to wrap their arms around you and warm your chest, you want to love with every fiber of your being. but that would mean tearing your defences down and you’re not to keen about it, it’s easier to keep wielding the sword to everyone who steps too close. but you never stopped flirting, it comes easy for you as you’re seductive in almost everything you do. you like keeping them on their toes, especially men, you like seeing their faces as they desperately try to hang on to your fingers, you take pleasure in their desperation. it is a little different with women but you always wish to be worshipped and desired. you’ve got a captivating smile and eyes that lure in victims, it’s your hands that then keeps them locked. but now things with your boyfriend aren’t going so great, perhaps you’ll fall into old habits, or you’ll keep your head high in the search for love.

“i had no idea how greedy my heart really was.”

[likemosaic]

coco jumps a little and ends up dropping the piece of arthur's tech she'd picked up. it doesn't shatter, but it makes a clattering sound that can't mean anything good. she's kinda regretting coming in here, but there's no one else to hand off a tech problem (or in her case, a possible tech present) to among salem's team. she's desperately wishing there was, but the extent of mercury's tech ability includes hacking his little...game...thing to run without internet access. a gameman? a toyboy? coco's not a video games type, much to his disappointment. "touchy, touchy. we can't all be blessed with naturally dark lashes, okay? check your privilege, firstly."

coco puts her hands on her hips, her information drive tucked into her palm. she's thinking about snapping it in half in front of arthur's face, just to see him get even madder, but she abstains. as fun as it would be to watch his face go an even deeper shade of purple, she doesn't think salem would be happy to know that their only tech expert died of a stress-induced heart attack.

"my name is coco, thanks. not girl. it would be super rude if i called you, i dunno, old fuck instead of your name. which i actually bothered to learn, because i'm really, really nice." the audacity of a wealthy young adult, traumatized and willing to traumatize the world back, is truly inspiring. coco wonders if the reason arthur has no idea who she is, is because he's spent the last twenty years in salem's basement.

buuut she can admit that she's being inflammatory. coco pulls her hands off her hips and folds her arms. "i know this is gonna make you yell at me more, but...what's the cactus? shouldn't you be over there working with them...or...something?" she had a solid C- in her technical advancements courses, if it's not obvious. enough knowledge to be obnoxious, not enough knowledge to be helpful.

Eyes narrowed, Arthur slowly takes his hands off his keyboard. He can type and talk—a skill honed by long practice and one he takes no small amount of pride in—but not when he’s apoplectic with anger, and it is obvious that this child thinks it’s funny to try his patience.

But! Arthur Watts is no longer the hot-headed youngish man who had faked his death and cruised out of Atlas in a stolen airship on a wave of pure unspeakable frustration: oh, no. No. Salem has (he will admit it in the privacy of his own mind, if nowhere else) been good for him. He is seven years older and wiser now. He has learnt the art of patience. He–

That idiot child is touching his things.

Grinding his teeth together, Arthur snaps: “Put that down, girl!”

Was she raised in a barn?—No, no, that’s an insult both to domesticated livestock, who at least have the good graces to be nutritious, and to the minuscule number of actual farmers Arthur has met in his life. No. Worse. This girl acts like she’d attended a private boarding school to the tune of millions of lien every year from the day she turned five!

He kicks his seat back from the desk, fingers laced together, long arms outstretched; his knuckles crackle horribly. “So sorry about your little mascara problem,” Arthur drawls, with withering disdain. “If that pathetic excuse for a KE team Atlas sent to Vale ever manages to get the Cactus back online—” They won’t. “—I’ll be sure to take down every. last. retailer. hawking beauty products over the ’net so that you continue to have that problem forever!”

Just so she’s clear about where they stand.