#mimosa boutique

[tyresdeg]

callum is girlfriend in like a romantic way but pato is girlfriend in a brunch way

[z0uz]

feeling like a main character today*

*wearing my favorite clothes, wandering in bookshops with boba in one hand and flowers that i just bought for myself in the other

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 28 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You finally have a wedding dress and a hopeful plan for the future. But when Molly caves and tells you what's been bothering her, you desperately wish she would take your advice.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, swearing, pregnancy, mentions of abortion

Length: 4600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Work was insanely busy, and the month of August really started to get away from you. It was getting precariously close to September, and you really needed to buy a wedding dress. There wouldn't even be time to get anything altered at this point, and you winced as you thought about what that might mean.

Your weekends and evenings had been consumed with activities. Bradley's baseball games, visits to the park, rainy days scouring the flea market for baseball cards. Honestly, you couldn't remember ever being happier, and you made sure you told Bradley that all the time. 

"We don't need to have an actual wedding," you whispered when you couldn't stop yawning, curled up in bed with Bradley. "We can just visit the justice of the peace."

He pushed you onto your back and smothered your entire face in kisses. "No way, Kitten. I'm not doing what Danny did. Besides, I want to have a wedding."

You wrapped your arms and legs around him as he kissed your paw print charm. "I guess I better buy a dress then."

"I don't care if you get married in this," he rasped, tugging on the old shirt you were wearing. "But we're having the wedding."

You rolled your eyes hard. "Since I'm absolutely not wearing this, I guess I'll keep my plans to go dress shopping with Molly in the morning."

"You do that, Kitten. And I'll take Ev and Bob out for breakfast at that place you hate that everyone else likes."

"The place with the sticky floor?" you asked, grimacing.

"I'm pretty sure it's just sticky from maple syrup."

"Keep telling yourself that, Coach. That place is gross."

He snorted and rolled back onto his side with you. "Let's get some sleep. I'm fucking beat. I love you."

You were asleep within minutes. And then as things usually went on the weekends, Everett was in your room, waking both of you up, complaining he was hungry first thing in the morning.

Bradley groaned and pulled him up into bed. "If you go back to sleep for another hour, I'll take you out for chocolate chip waffles, okay?"

"Yay! I love that place!" Everett cheered before quieting down and snuggling into the pillows next to Bradley. You kissed his forehead and then Bradley's and then slipped out of bed to take a shower. They could do their own thing for breakfast, but you and Molly would be having a mimosa lunch after you bought some dresses. And nobody was going to tell you no.

You ended up leaving for the dress boutique the same time Bradley and Ev left for breakfast, but when you got to the shop, Molly wasn't there yet. "Typical," you muttered, texting her to let her know you'd meet her inside. 

After fifteen minutes, you felt completely overwhelmed. There were so many options, and you just wanted something simple. All of the fabric was starting to feel the same under your fingertips, and nothing looked quite right. Honestly, Molly was so much better at this stuff than you were. Maybe she forgot about the plan? You started to panic without her here. Perhaps you could see if Nat was free. 

Just as you turned, ready to dash back out to your car, Molly walked in. "There you are," you sighed in relief, but then you gasped. "What's wrong? You look terrible."

"Nothing," she muttered. But her skin looked dull, and she was wearing an outfit you would have never imagined she'd leave the house in. Was she wearing one of Bob's undershirts? She was barely meeting your eyes now. "Did you pick one out yet?" Even her voice sounded lifeless. She was usually so expressive.

"No," you said carefully. "I was waiting for you. I can't do this kind of thing without your help."

"Okay," she replied as she started to grab a few dresses off the racks and handed them to you. 

You took them all in your arms and said, "Molly, just tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," she snapped. "Try those on. I'll be in one of the chairs."

Unsure about what to do, you just did as you were told. But something was wrong, and you thought about texting Bradley or Bob from inside the dressing room. But you didn't want to upset her further. So you pulled on the first dress she had given you, and you were shocked. It was beautiful, it fit you well, and it wasn't too fancy for the wedding location.  

"Molly, you're a genius," you said as you opened the door. 

She just nodded at you from her seat with a small smile. "You look very pretty. Try on another one."

"Okay," you told her, watching as she rubbed her hands over her face. She looked like she was about to cry. You quickly changed into a second dress which was also pretty great, and you walked out a second time to find that she actually was crying now. 

"Molly, please," you begged, bending down to try to wipe her tears away, but she just shook her head and quickly stood up, avoiding your reach. "Talk to me." You followed her across the store, down a row of dresses, and you could hear her sobbing as she rushed away from you.

Once she reached the back corner, she had nowhere else to go. When she turned to face you, she looked like she was in agony. Tears were dripping down her face and she shook her head. "I fucked up," she sobbed miserably. "I fucked up so bad."

"Molly," you gasped, reaching for her. This time she tripped forward into your arms, and you held her against the fabric of the wedding dress you were wearing. "It's okay to talk to me about it." You rubbed her back as thought after horrible thought popped up in your mind. Was it something to do with Bob? With work? You'd never, ever seen her this upset before. 

But now she couldn't even talk. She was just crying and shaking in your arms. You kissed the top of her head and held her, glaring at anyone who tried to come back this far in the aisle until they turned back. And eventually, she pulled away from you a few inches, and she let you wipe some of her tears away.

You didn't push her to say anything. You knew better than that. You just held her face in your hands and waited.

She took a deep, ragged breath and let it out slowly. Her voice was a soft, trembling whisper as she said, "I'm pregnant."

Your lips parted wordlessly before you closed them again. She was obviously very upset about this fact, so you weren't sure what to say. But you eventually settled on, "What did Bob say when you told him? He's upset?" You couldn't actually imagine Bob being upset with Molly about anything, but you supposed it was possible.

She shook her head in a jerky motion. She sounded so small as she said, "I haven't told him."

"Molly," you sighed, pulling her in for another tight hug. "How long have you known?"

"About a week," she gasped, pressing her tear streaked face to your neck. She'd kept this inside for a week. You were honestly shocked. "I suspected it for a little while at least. I didn't think it was actually possible at first." She was hiccupping between words. "I just thought my cycle was off. But then I took a test the other day. And then I took a lot more tests."

There were so many questions you wanted to ask. How far along was she? When was she going to tell Bob? "Molly, were you using birth control?"

"Of course!" she keened. "I'm not stupid! I work in healthcare!"

"I know, I know," you soothed, rubbing her back. "I was just checking." After you got pregnant with Everett, you'd made her promise to be safe.

"But I switched from one pill to a different one," she whispered. "I did everything I was supposed to fucking do! How could I have let this happen?"

"Shh," you whispered. She was sobbing again. "Does Bob not want to have kids with you?"

She pulled away from you and threw her hands up in the air. "How the hell am I supposed to even know that?!" she asked, loud and sarcastic. "I've only known him for like four months! We have never, not even once, never talked about having kids together! I know he likes them. He loves Ev and Piper, but that's different."

You nodded, reaching for her hands and stroking her knuckles with your thumbs. "Molly, you have to tell him."

"No," she said vehemently. "No way. I'm so mad at myself. I don't want him to look at me differently now. I told him I was on birth control. I promised him there was nothing to worry about." Silent tears were streaming down her cheeks, almost like they were never going to stop. "I can't tell him. But he knows something's wrong. He thinks I'm going to leave him, and honestly, maybe I should."

"Don't say that," you whispered. "Don't say that about Bob."

"Exactly!" she said, pointing at you in anger. "That's exactly it! You don't even worry about me anymore, because I'm with Bob! I finally got my shit together. I'm finally dating a good guy. A stable one who actually loves me! He loves me! Or he did. I can't believe I fucked this up. It was perfect!"

She sank to the floor at your feet and cried, burying her face in what you were now certain was Bob's undershirt. You tried to sit down next to her, but you had to fold the dress a little awkwardly. And then a sales clerk came over. 

"Excuse me, but you can't just crawl around the floor in one of our dresses. And you shouldn't be crying near them either."

You took a deep breath to reply, but Molly was already saying, "Fuck off, lady. Your goddamn dress will be just fine, okay?" 

As the woman bustled away, looking completely scandalized, you turned back to your sister. Her gaze looked steely now as she licked her lips. Her voice was calmer as she said, "I'm not going to tell him. I'm going to pretend to go away for a couple days, get an abortion, and then never mention any of this again."

"Molly." You were shaking your head. "You can't. That's not fair to Bob. You need to tell him about this."

"So I can end up like you?" she said, and her words struck you mute. "No, I know, and I'm sorry, but there's not always going to be a Bradley waiting at the end of the tunnel, okay? You got lucky. Everett is the perfect kid. And somehow you upgraded from Danny to something much better. But I'll never get this lucky again. I'll never, ever find something better than Bob. And I don't even know if I can be a mom. Because I've seen you do it, and it's actually fucking impossible, okay?" She was crying and laying on the floor, inhaling the scent of the undershirt. "It's either leave Bob or get an abortion and never tell him. And I know I can't bring myself to leave him."

----------------------

Bradley was sopping up a plate full of syrup with a pancake when Bob finally caved. "Molly's seems unhappy."

"What makes you say that?" Bradley asked cautiously, glancing at Everett playing a game on his phone. He thought back to that night at the Hard Deck a few weeks ago when everyone had been in a great mood. Molly and Bob had sex in the bathroom. He'd heard Molly tell Bob she loved him. 

"She's been acting strange for the past few weeks. I can't get her to talk to me." Bob's face looked helpless as he said, "I just want to make her happy, but I don't think I actually know how. She's gotta be planning to move out."

"No," Bradley said. Truly, this didn't make sense to him. "It has to be something else? Work?"

Bob just shrugged. "I wish I knew." He looked like he was in pain as he reached for his wallet, but Bradley handed his credit card to the waiter.

"It's my turn," he insisted. "I think you should head home and talk to Molly now. I bet they're done shopping and getting margaritas or whatever they're doing."

"Mimosas," Bob whispered. "Molly likes mimosas."

"Right," Bradley agreed. "Let's just skip the batting cages, and you can get home and talk to her since I'm sure they must be done with mimosas."

Bob just nodded and barely managed to say goodbye as he walked back to his truck.

"What's wrong with Uncle Bob?" Everett asked on the way home. Bradley winced.

"Not sure, kiddo. But I bet he'll sort it out soon."

Bradley was actually a little surprised that you were home when he and Everett got there. "Did you pick a dress?" he asked, wrapping you up in a hug. 

"Yeah," you mumbled, frowning up at him, and Bradley wondered if this had to do with Molly.

He kissed your forehead and said, "Hey, Ev. Remember our plans for the Phillies room upstairs?"

"Yeah!" 

"Why don't you get the measuring tape out of the closet and start measuring the room. I'll be up in a minute."

Bradley watched him dash up the stairs with a smile on his face, and then he turned back to you. "What's wrong with Molly?"

You pressed your lips together and whispered, "She's pregnant."

"Oh," he grunted. "Bob seems to be under the impression that she's going to leave him."

"I mean..." you said with a shrug. 

"She wouldn't leave him. He's perfect for her. Oh fuck... she didn't tell him yet!"

You shook your head and looked like you were going to cry. "She's so upset, Bradley. It was unplanned. She thinks she destroyed her relationship, and she doesn't intend to tell him at all."

"She has to," he said, shaking his head. "They'll be fine. Bob loves kids." He paused before asking, "Were they using birth control? Yours seems pretty sturdy, maybe she should have been on that one."

"Bradley," you said, rolling your eyes as he rubbed your tummy. "I told her to tell Bob, but I don't know that she will."

"Fuck," he whispered. "What do we do?"

"Just wait," you responded softly. "She said she'd never get as lucky as me. She said she'd never find someone else as good as Bob later. She said she doesn't think she can be a mom. And I think I fucked that up for her, because she saw me do it all by myself for so long." Now you were crying, and Everett was shouting for him. "Just go up with Ev. I'll be on the deck."

You pushed him away and went to sit outside while you cried, and Bradley didn't know what else to do, so he just went upstairs. 

----------------------

You ended up buying the wedding dress that you were wearing when you sat on the floor of the bridal shop. The sales team was so obnoxious, and you were honestly afraid Molly was going to scream at them, so you just bought it and left. Good thing you liked it, because it was yours now. You were looking in the mirror in your bedroom, trying to zip it up when Molly called.

"You okay?" you asked when you answered the phone. 

"Yeah," she replied. It had been a few days since the dress shopping fiasco, and you'd been checking on her constantly. She hadn't told you much. You weren't even sure if she'd had a conversation with Bob. Frankly, you weren't sure about the status of her pregnancy.

"You wanna come over?" you asked her. "I have ice cream hidden in the freezer."

She laughed. "You always have ice cream hidden in the freezer. But I can't. Bob and I are going out for dinner, and I have to work at six tomorrow morning."

A dinner date with her boyfriend? That sounded promising. You kept your voice upbeat. "Where are you going for dinner?"

"I wanted sushi, of course, but we're going out for Italian instead."

"And Bob's okay?" you asked. You kind of missed the days of tee ball practices and games when you'd see him more often. Of course you could just call him, but you wanted to hear it from Molly.

Her response was soft, and she still didn't quite sound like her usual self, but it was a far cry better than seeing her on the floor in the bridal shop. "Yeah. I actually just wanted to ask you if it's okay if I wear a plain navy blue dress for your wedding. I can text you a picture of it."

Your heart started beating faster. Your wedding was close, and your sister seemed at least marginally interested in it. "Molly, you can wear anything you want. You don't need to send me a picture."

But the message already came through. It was a cute, form fitting dress with little cap sleeves. "It's perfect! Get it! You'll look adorable."

"It's just that it's stretchy, and I'm already feeling bloated, so I want to get something that I know will be okay."

Your eyes went wide as you looked in the mirror. "That's great, Molly. You'll look perfect no matter what. And Bob can wear anything."

She chuckled. "I think he's planning on matching Bradley and Ev, but I'm not supposed to tell you that."

You felt a little better as you ended the call. 

"Kitten?" Bradley shouted as he walked up the stairs. 

"Shit," you muttered, trying to unzip your dress. "Don't come in here!" you yelled.

"What's wrong?" he asked as you practically slammed the bedroom door in his face. 

"I'm wearing my wedding dress!" You tried to jiggle the zipper, but it wasn't budging. You took a deep breath and held it, holding it in, but that didn't help either. "The zipper is stuck!"

"Open the door. I'll keep my eyes closed."

You let him in, and he stumbled toward you until you took his hand and placed it on the zipper at the side of your dress. He eased it down slowly and without issue, never even cracking an eye open. "This is not how I imagined you taking this dress off of me," you whispered before kissing his cheek.

He smiled softly, but he said, "Once I'm able to look at you, we need to talk."

"About what?" you asked slowly, realizing he looked a little frustrated in spite of his closed eyes. "The Phillies room? I said you two can do whatever you want in there."

You could actually hear Everett sorting through Bradley's tubs of baseball cards right now. "No, not about the Phillies room. Meet me downstairs."

Then he was gone, and your dress was hanging awkwardly off your body. You changed and headed downstairs to find Bradley sitting on the couch with his legs splayed wide and his hands on his thighs. 

"What's up?" you asked him, slowly making your way through the living room. His face was nearly expressionless, but you could still tell he was upset. 

Bradley cocked his head to the side. "Is Danny giving you a hard time?"

You just shrugged. "What makes you ask that?"

"I saw that huge packet of information from your lawyer on the kitchen counter. You need to talk to me about this." His voice was harsh, like you'd never heard it before. "Be honest with me, Kitten. If we're getting married, if Ev is going to be my stepson," he said, gesturing upstairs with his hand, "then you need to let me know what's going on here!"

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "He's not... giving me a hard time. Well, I guess he kind of is." You sighed and sank down onto the couch. "He's been served with papers. He has a few months to comply, so I just know he's going to take as much time as he can before paying me a cent of child support. And the worst part is, I'll have to wait until Ev is a legal adult before I can have his birth certificate amended." 

Bradley looked pensive, scratching the corner of his mustache with narrowed eyes. "I'm sorry, Kitten. I wish there was something more I can do. You already asked your lawyer if there's anything I can do after we get married?"

You didn't want to keep the truth from him any longer, but you just simply said, "I'll let you know, Coach. We'll figure it out." Really, you weren't sure if you would better benefit from having Danny out of your lives completely or getting child support from him. 

When Bradley tugged on your arm and stretched out on the couch, you started to smile. "Come here," he whispered, gently pulling you on top of him. "You know you don't deserve all the runaround, right?" He kissed you and wrapped his hands around around your waist, letting his palms rest on your lower back. "And Ev doesn't deserve anything Danny does."

"I know," you replied, pushing your hands up through his hair. "But we're making out pretty well these days. Got ourselves an upgrade." Your lips met his neck in a soft kiss that had him tightening his grip on you. 

He glanced toward the stairs. "Kitten," he whispered, his tone a warning that made you feel warm all over. When he met your eyes he was shaking his head. "I wanna take you to bed, but I need to get to practice."

"Mmm," you hummed, letting your eyes drift closed as he kissed you. "Later then. When you're all sweaty and hot."

"You're killing me," he grunted, standing with you in his arms, pressed against his body. He kissed your forehead and said, "I'll go see what Ev is up to before I head to practice. Bob told me he's skipping it tonight. Not sure what that's all about."

"He's taking Molly out to dinner."

"That's.... good?" he said, but it sounded more like a question.

"I hope so," you whispered. It felt strange to know that your sister wasn't going to be coming to you immediately with all of her problems now. Because it sounded like a decision had been made. You just hoped that Bob could handle her and all of her glorious personality. 

"I'll check on Ev and then get going. I told him he can organize my baseball cards however he wants. But between you and me, I hid most of the really valuable ones under our bed."

"Good call," you told him with a laugh. 

Once he had gone to practice, you went upstairs to work on the boys' Phillies room with your son. While you had nixed painting the entire room red for fear of it looking like a bloody crime scene, you did let them hang up some baseball decals. Everett had apparently hung up some more Phillies posters without help, because they were very crooked, but the room was actually coming together. 

"Mom! Look!" he said, holding up a red and white pennant that said BRADLEY and looked like it was from the '80s. "Can you help me hang this up? I don't think Dad even knew it was in here with his baseball cards!"

Your breath caught like it always did when he called Bradley his dad, and it took you a minute to pull yourself together. "Yeah," you replied with a nod. "I'll help you. Let's put it up next to the door."

"And maybe I can make one with both our names out of poster board. I'm getting pretty good at making signs and stuff."

"You really are, Ev," you told him as he taped the pennant into place. 

"Do you think we can all dress as baseball players for Halloween this year? Are you getting married before or after Halloween? I keep forgetting. Do you think Aunt Molly would dress as the Phanatic? I think she'd probably be better at it than you. No offense. But we could go trick or treating with them, because then there would be more people to help hold all the candy I get. Dad will dress as a baseball player and hold my candy if I ask him to. I'm pretty sure."

"Oh, Ev," you said, hugging him as tears filled your eyes. "We can do whatever you want, okay?"

He let you hug him for a few seconds before he wiggled his way free and asked, "Why are you crying? You haven't been crying as much."

It was because you didn't want to have to think about Danny. You didn't want him to try to pull some stunt in a few years or withhold child support and make you chase him down. He was the type who would make you waste a bunch of time and money just because he could. He would make your life miserable now because he always blamed you for ruining his life with Everett. 

"I'm sorry," you gasped. "I'm sorry I'm crying." You pulled him in closer again. You knew. You were sure. You would better benefit from having Danny out of your lives completely. And Bradley was the easiest way to get this weight off your chest, because whenever you thought about Danny, it made your body ache. You wanted to be able to stop thinking about him. About the way he had hurt Everett. About the way the law had been designed in such a way that guaranteed he'd be able to continue to hurt Everett in the future.

"Did I make you sad?" Everett asked softly. "We can be magicians or pirates for Halloween instead if you want."

"Oh my god, Ev," you gasped. "No, you didn't make me sad. I love you." You knelt down on the floor in front of him and kissed his cheeks. "I was just thinking about your biological dad, Danny."

Everett's expression turned to one of fear as he said, "I don't want to see him."

"You won't," you promised, pushing his hair back and kissing his forehead. All the child support in the world wouldn't matter. You didn't need it. Your son was absolutely terrified of Danny, and some money wasn't going to make up for that.

Everett seemed to accept your answer as he nodded, but he still looked concerned. "We don't even need him now."

"We never did," you agreed with a small smile. You had overheard Bradley tell Bob back in June that he would like to adopt Everett. Maybe you should just go ahead and ask him to. Maybe you should just tell him the truth: he could help remove Danny from your lives one hundred percent. "Ev, do you know what it would mean if Bradley adopted you?"

He nodded, his brow creased in slight confusion. "I think so."

"Let's talk about it, so we know it makes sense. And you can tell me if it sounds like something you might want. And then we can talk to Bradley about it. But it'll be our little secret for now."

-----------------------------

I hope Molly and Bob have come to a decision they are both comfortable with. More of that will be posted in The Curveball. Next up for Coach and Kitten....the wedding! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 29

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

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[phoward89]

Banner by me, dividers by @saradika

Based on this ask

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is his own warning! Some cussing. Talks of prostitution. Manipulation. Implied forced body modification/mutilation. Mentions of murder/poison.

Now That We Don't Talk

The chill in the air made you shiver as you walked down the sidewalk towards Tigris’ boutique. Like every Wednesday you were meeting her for brunch. You only wished that you opted to take Coriolanus up on his offer to have the chauffeur take you since the winter winds were a bit harsh today. Of course, you declined his offer, telling him that you were meeting his cousin at her boutique this midmorning instead of the cafe where you usually went for your brunches with the kind hearted stylist.

Coryo wasn't happy with your answer but he accepted it nevertheless. He also told you to wear your new fur coat, the one he got you less than a month ago, since Lucretius ‘Lucky’ Flickerman's weather report predicted a cold, wintery day with the possibility of light snowfall. 

After agreeing to wear the luxury fur coat (your fiance said it was a rare fur, Russian sable, and that you were the only in the Capitol to have it), Coriolanus rose from the dining room table only to give you a kiss on your temple and prepare to leave for an early morning meeting with some political strategist for his campaign.

Yes, your man was running for president of Panem. 

Holding your coat closer together with your glove covered hand, you walked a tad bit faster. You were grateful that the walk to Tigris’ boutique wasn't too far from the penthouse you shared with Coriolanus. Meaning you didn't have to brave the cold too long. You hated the cold, but with how you were raised it's only a given that you'd hate it.

Upon seeing the scrolling print sign for Tigris' boutique swinging in the wind, you felt a sense of relief. In a matter of moments you'd be warm.

“Tigris, I'm here!” You called out to the blonde as soon as you set foot into the shop.

A girl with bubble gum pink hair was at the front counter of the shop. She smiled at you as her boss, Tigris, emerged from the back. You exchanged warm greetings and hugs before she ushered you down a hall and up the stairs that led to her condo.

“I'm sorry that we couldn't go to the cafe, but between requests and designing a new wardrobe for the victory tour, I've been swamped.” Tigris sweetly apologized for your change in plans as you removed your fur coat. 

“It's fine, Tigris. I don't mind having brunch here.” You replied with a smile while hanging the coat up on the corner rack by the door.

The stylist's eyes took in the luxury fur hanging by her door and asked, “That's not the coat from my new line that I made for you. Did Coriolanus get it for you?”

“Yes.” You nodded, going over to the plush sofa. “He gave it to me a few weeks ago and insisted that I wear it today.” You innocently said, not understanding the true meaning behind Coriolanus’ actions.

Bless your heart, but you were innocent and you'd never think that your loving and caring boyfriend would do anything to hurt anyone, especially his cousin. But…that wasn't the case and his true reason for making telling you to wear your new Russian sable coat was to slight his cousin. To hurt Tigris since he knew she gave you the light pink peacoat with faux fur collar from her new line as a holiday gift.

Tigris weakly smiled, feeling sick to her stomach that you were so sweet and being led to the slaughter by her cold and calculating cousin, as she went to the kitchen to grab the charcuterie board she had prepared earlier for your brunch along with making the two of you some mimosas.

When she returned, she set the items on the coffee table only for you to frown and tell her, “You didn't put any alcohol in the orange juice, did you? Coryo doesn't like it when I drink outside of galas or when he's not with me.”

Tigris gave you a long look of disbelief, only to sigh, “He doesn't have to know you had a mimosa in my condo. What's brunch without mimosas?”

Shaking your head, you refused the drink. “He told me not to drink it so I won't. Please, just get me a plain orange juice.”

Tigris sighed heavily and was about to give into your request, but changed her mind whenever a large shiny diamond ring on your left ring finger caught her attention. 

No.

No, you couldn't be.

Grabbing yout hand, she looked between you and the very large ring. “When did you start wearing this?”

“Coriolanus proposed last night.” You beamed, pulling your hand out of your friend's hold only to flick your hand up and admire the ring on your finger. “Coryo says it's one of a kind. That he designed it special for me.” Pointing to the ring, you explained the ring's design. “The large diamond in the middle's a rare pink diamond and all the white diamonds on the side are marquises. It's supposed to be a pink rose because those are my favorite flowers.”

Tigris felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach at hearing you happily tell her about the shackle her ruthless cousin had slipped on your finger hours ago.

She always thought that Coriolanus would grow bored of using you as his plaything and return you to your family. The star designer assumed that her cousin would push you away once he announced his intent to run as the youngest president of Panem. Tigris assumed that Coriolanus would spurn you because of your district background and latch onto a woman of impeccable Capitol breeding in his unquenchable thirst for power.

But she was wrong.

Coriolanus proposed and you said yes. 

Now Tigris knew that she had to warn you about him if you had any chance of escaping him. Any chance at happiness. You weren't just her cousin's girlfriend fiance, but a dear friend of hers and she wanted you to be safe.

You'd never be safe with Coriolanus.

So, with a sad look in her soft blue eyes, the blonde woman told you, “Sweetheart, there's things about Coriolanus you don't know, but need to know.”

“Like what, Tigris?” You innocently asked, assuming that she was going to tell you a childhood story or something.

But what she told you wasn't a childhood story. No, what she told you made your eyes pop out of your head. Tigris, to your utter shock and horror, revealed all of Coriolanus' sins to you. 

Sins that he never wanted you to know because he never wanted you to see him as anything but your loving and protective Coryo. 

When Coriolanus came home you were in the kitchen finishing dinner. The smell had his mouth watering as he hung up his heavy maroon coat. He smiled to himself just thinking about how you'd never have to lift another finger in the kitchen ever again once he became president.

You'd have an entire kitchen full of the best private chefs for that. You'd be able to fill your evenings reading your ancient books and watching those trashy Capitol tv shows you enjoyed so much. Oh, and pleasing him at every whim.

“Dinner smells good, darling.” Coriolanus told you, stepping into the kitchen.

You nearly jumped, feeling a bit snuck up on, as you heard his baritone fill the air. You prayed that he didn't notice your jumpiness, but he did. 

“What's wrong?” He asked, coming up behind you to wrap an arm around your waist in a comforting way.

But what should've felt like a comforting gesture didn't. In fact, his touch made you feel sick. His hands, covered in so much blood from all the murders he committed to rise up the political ranks, felt foreign as they touched you. His touch was that of the angel of death; not a lover, or at least that's how it felt after hearing his cousin’s damning words of warning earlier.

Shaking your head, you weakly assured him, “I'm fine, just tired’s all.”

“I told you, my darling rose, that you should've had the driver take you to Tigris’ for brunch. That it was too cold out for you to walk.” Coriolanus remarked before letting you go. “If you're getting ready to plate our food, I'll pour us some drinks.”

The thought of him pouring you a drink had you choking on air. Tigris' earlier words washed over you.

“He poisons people he deems as disposable or a threat to him, sweetheart. He offers them a drink and watches them die to tie up his loose ends.”

Before you knew what was happening, you were pushing past your fiance (nearly knocking him on his ass) and running out of the kitchen to the bathroom.

Concerned, Coriolanus followed you only to find you hunched over the toilet coughing and spitting up bile. Going over to the vanity, he turned on the sink and grabbed a small washcloth from the drawer they were stored in. He ran the white cloth under the cool water for a few moments before turning off the faucet and wringing out the washcloth. 

Bending down next to you, he tucked your hair behind your ear and ran the cool cloth over your face. “Are you okay, darling? You're not coming down with something, are you?”

He couldn't help but hope that he knocked you up. He wanted nothing more than to tie you to him forever with a baby. Having a child with him would be more of a life binding contract then marriage. But he knew that morning sickness usually happened, well, in the morning.

His icy blue eyes looked at you with concern. Believe it or not, the cold man with a too small black heart truly did care about you and your well-being. Truth be told, you and the cat you twisted his arm into adopting were the only things on God's green earth that he gave a fuck about. 

Hell, he didn't even give a shit about his own cousin these days, given how cold she was to him once he returned from his summer stint in District 12 as a peacekeeper all those years ago. Only reason he hasn't cut her off yet is because of you and how much you adore the fashionista bitch.

“I'm fine, just a bit tired.” You lied. Truth was you weren't fine. The fact that your fiance was a murderer that might end up poisoning you to get rid of you because of your inferior birth made your stomach churn. 

Yes, Tigris had told you that Coriolanus looked down on district people. That he was disgusted by them and viewed them to be lower than gutter rats. She told you that she thought he would've grown tired of you, but now feared what he'd do to you since he wanted to marry you.

She told you that she felt her cousin had no real intentions on marrying you. That she was afraid he'd poison you (kill you) to gain sympathy and higher polling numbers for his campaign.

Now the blonde woman's words ran wild thru your head and you couldn't even look at the platinum blonde man who owned your heart the same way again. 

“Perhaps you should go rest in our room.” Coriolanus suggested, thinking maybe some rest would make you feel better.

Coriolanus was wrong. Rest didn't make you feel better. Nothing made you feel better. In fact, in the days after your brunch with Tigris you started to pull away from him.

At first it was subtle, but then it became painfully obvious to him that you were pulling away. Especially when you stopped calling him Coryo. That's when he knew he no longer owned your heart.

Something was wrong and it drove him insane not knowing what it was. He couldn't figure out what had changed so drastically. It's as if you looked at him with undying love one day and then suddenly woke up to look at him with a fearful love the next.

A fearful love…

Damnit!

Did something scare you? Did somebody tell you something to make you shrink into yourself and become a shell? If they did, well, they'd pay for it. 

Pay with their life.

He decided that he was confronting you tonight about being so distant. He was getting to the bottom of your problems because over a week of you not being the woman he fell for was enough. Coriolanus couldn't handle you pulling away from him anymore.

Goddamnit, he's gone too long without fucking you. 

Enough was enough.

“Darling, we need to talk.” Coriolanus told you as soon as he got home from work. 

You stared at him from your spot on the sofa as he hung up his coat. “About what?” You asked, your eyes flickering back to the book you had in your hand. It was an old one from the ancient pre-Panem days. Your fiance got it for you at some high-end auction house.

“Us.” The word was clipped as he let it out of his mouth. 

You refused to look at Coriolanus as he crossed the room. Instead, you kept your eyes glued to the pages of Pride & Prejudice. 

“Did I do something to make you pull away from me?” You heard him ask while stopping in front of you. 

“No.” You half lied. He didn't do anything to you (yet), but it was the sins he committed in the past that had your head spinning. Deciding you didn't want to get into it with him, you simply said, “I'm not pulling away from you, Coriolanus. I've just been tired’s all.”

“Don't lie to me.”

“I'm not-” You began only for him to loom over you and shout, “Yes you are!” 

The pressure had finally gotten to him. He finally snapped. 

Yanking the book out of your hands and tossing it somewhere across the room, he ranted, “You won't call me Coryo anymore, my darling. You've been pulling away from me for over a week now and I need to know why. I miss the way you used the look at me, darling. Hell, I miss the way we used to be.” 

Your eyes fell to the floor as you sighed, “I told you, I've just been tired.”

That was the wrong answer. 

You should've told him the truth…

Coriolanus grabbed you by your upper arms with a tight, bruising force and pulled you to your feet, all the while yelling, “Stop fucking lying to me, darling! I can't handle your distance and lies anymore!” His chest wildly heaved up and down in anger as he added in, “I want to know what I did to make you stop loving me, my darling rose.”

You never stopped loving him and told him as much, which only prompted him to ask why you've been pulling away from him.

So now the truth you've been keeping from him flowed out of your mouth like a raging river.

“Tigris saw my ring and told me that you didn't mean to go thru with marrying me. That you'd just poison and kill me to boost votes for your campaign and gain sympathy as being the heartbroken lover.” 

“What?” Coriolanus blinked his baby blues. He removed his hands from your arms, only to take your hands in his and lead you to sit down on the sofa. A soft look washed over his face as he assured you, “I'd never do that to you, darling." 

Shaking your head, you cried, “She says that you've killed before for power and to climb the political ladder, Coriolanus.” Tears were rolling down your cheeks as you wailed, “And she told me that you're disgusted by district people, Coriolanus. That you view us as lower than gutter rats.” 

It was true that he thought district people were scum, but it wasn't true that he viewed you that way. You weren't scum to him. You were better than where you were born. Hell, you lived in the Capitol for so long now that he doesn't even consider you District anymore.

“Tigris says that I don't matter to you; that you don't love me and will marry a girl of proper Capitol breeding once you dump poison in my drink.”

How dare his cousin tell you that he didn't love you?! He did love you. Hell, he was more obsessed with you then he ever was with the lying, treacherous, traitor, snake charmer of a whore singer he nearly destroyed his life over.

No, he loved you with everything he had inside of him. Despite being a dark creature that had no problems killing to get, keep, and maintain power, he truly did love you. You were the best thing that ever happened to him and he knew that he couldn't let his cousin turn you against him. 

Coriolanus wanted, no needed, to be your Coryo again and he'd say anything to make it happen.

“I wish you would've told me what Tigris told you as soon as it happened, my darling rose.” Coriolanus sighed while wrapping his arms around you. Pulling you against his chest, his silver tongue weaved its magic with the perfect words to turn you against Tigris. “She's jealous that nobody wants her because, despite her impeccable reputation as a stylist, a lot of men remember that years ago she used to sell her body on the black market. Tigris is also upset that she became a stylist because I told Dr. Gaul that the tributes needed uniforms and interview outfits.” Threading his fingers thru your soft hair, he added in the final words he needed to make Tigris look like the villain in this story. “She's upset that it was me who made her who she is. Made her a star designer. And she's jealous that I have somebody when she doesn't because of some choices she made before I could make her stylist dreams come true.”

“I never knew Tigris sold herself.” You gasped, clearly a bit horrified at the thought of your friend doing sexual favors with men for money. 

A large smug smirk spreads over Coriolanus' face as he continues to hold you close to his chest. Oh, he knew that he had you right where he wanted you. He had to lay it on thick so he'd be able to reel you in; have you under his thumb again. But he planned on having you look at him like you used to. He'd say and do anything to accomplish that too.

His voice quivered as he put on an act worthy of an academy award. “My darling rose, we don't talk anymore and it's killing me. The possibility of losing you because of some lies my jealous whore of a cousin told you because she's alone and miserable is heartbreaking.” He sucked in a breath, making you think that he was trying to prevent himself from breaking down, only to confess in a broken timbre, “I miss making love to you, darling.”

The phrase making love made his skin crawl as if spiders were underneath the epidermis, but he knew that to manipulate you back into his arms then he had to say it. After all, making love sounds more poetic than fucking your goddamn brains out does.

You lifted your head off his chest, only to look up into his icy blue eyes. Eyes that looked pitiful, like a kicked puppy’s, as he poured his heart out to you.

“I love you more than I ever thought possible, my darling rose. You consume me and losing you would destroy me. Turn me into a monster.” Coriolanus truthfully admitted. He wasn't lying about that, he was obsessed with you and knew deep down that if he ever lost you then he'd become a monster deadlier than anything that ever came out of Dr. Gaul's lab. 

And that was scary considering at the moment he had no morals, just the compass of his late father to guide him.

His large, calloused hand cupped your cheek as he swore, “I will never hurt you, Y/N. And I will never ever kill you or try to.” He pressed a kiss to your lips, only to rest his forehead on yours and confess. “I love you, my darling rose.”

That phrase was one he never thought he'd utter, but he did it to reel you in. To make sure that you never left his side. He needed you just like he needed air to breathe, so if he had to make himself a bit weak by saying the love word to you then so be it.

Hearing him say ‘I love you, my darling rose’ made your fears and doubts about him fly right out the window. He'd never said that to you before, not until now, and you knew he meant it. That he said it because he loved you and didn't want you to leave him.

But you could never leave him. You loved him too much.

“I love you too, Coryo.” You softly smiled, looking at your hand still holding his.

Hearing you call him Coryo again was the signal Coriolanus needed to let him know that he'd won. You were once again his and under his control.

“I'm sorry I was being distant. I was just scared.” You apologized, feeling foolish for pushing your fiance away over hearsay.

Tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, your fiance told you, “I know you were, darling. I only wished that you came to me so I could put your fears to rest.”

You believed that he loved you and wouldn't do you any harm, but you were still curious about one thing. “Coryo, have you poisoned people to climb up the political ladder; for power?”

“Of course not, Y/N.” He firmly denied, only to add in the rhetorical question of, “And why would I want to kill my political allies? Makes no sense, darling.”

Yes, why would he want to kill his political allies? You couldn't help, but think that he'd need his political connections alive since they'd be able to help him in elections better breathing than pushing up daisies. 

What you didn't know was that Coriolanus craved power and would kill anyone to get it and keep it. Didn't matter who they were. But…you didn't need to know that.

All you needed to know was that he'd NEVER kill you.

“Yea, it doesn't make any sense.” You innocently agreed with your fiance.

Looking between you and the clock on the wall, he suggested, “We still have half an hour before the Justice Building closes for the night. Let's go have the Magistrate marry us.”

“You want to get married tonight?” You asked, wide-eyed, with a mix of excitement and disbelief in your voice.

No.

No, he didn't want to get married tonight. In fact, Coriolanus wanted to marry you in a lavish ceremony dripping in diamonds, gold, roses, and silk bunting in the presidential palace right after winning the election. But…he knew that Tigris made you doubt his intentions of making you Mrs. First Lady Snow so the only way to scrub that from your mind was to marry you right away.

“Yes.” He nodded. Pulling you to your feet, he simply instructed, “Go put on that white dress you wore for the winter gala, Mrs. Snow.”

The following morning Tigris’ heart sank into the pit of her stomach as she read the main headline in the political section of the newspaper.

Presidential Frontrunner Now A Family Man- Senator Coriolanus Snow & Long Time Girlfriend Wed Last Night In Private Ceremony

Tigris mourned for the loss of your freedom, of your life. She has no idea why you didn't heed her warnings, but she wished you did.

Before she could start to read the article, a knock sounded at her door. When she answered it, she found a pair of peacekeepers at her door. They told her that they had strict orders from Senator Snow to escort her to a very important appointment he had made for her. 

It was an appointment that would change the rest of her life and if she knew what it was for, maybe she would've tried to run from the peacekeepers her cousin had doing his dark bidding.

You hadn't seen Tigris since you married Coriolanus. He said that it was for the best. Of course, you believed him. He married you when she said he wouldn't. Coriolanus had proved her a liar.

It's been roughly 5 months since you've been Mrs. Snow and you couldn't be happier, especially since you were expecting your first child with Coryo.

A baby boy.

A baby boy the two of you decided to name Cassian Xandros. It was to keep up the Snow tradition of the first born son having the initials C.X.S.

You thought it was so sweet how your husband wanted to uphold his family's traditions.

Too bad he didn't let you uphold any of the traditions you grew up with. Mhm…

“Are we still going to be on this campaign tour during the games?” You asked your husband, who was sitting in an armchair, sipping on coffee and reading the paper, in the luxury train carriage you shared.

“We’ll go back to the Capitol for the games; then we'll continue the campaign tour.” He explained while turning the page of his newspaper.

You were reading your favorite book, Pride & Prejudice, whenever Coriolanus stood up and walked over to where you were resting on the sofa. Folding the paper, so only one page was visible, he handed it to you and solemnly said, “Darling, you need to see this.”

“What is it? A drop in your poll numbers?” You innocently asked, setting your book aside and reaching for the paper.

“No, it's something very unsettling.” He said as you took the paper from his large hand.

You wondered what was so unsettling in the paper, but soon got your answer as you read the headline in the current events column.

Star Stylist Tigris Has Transformed Into Her Namesake, A Tiger

As if that wasn't enough, the picture of her transformed face made you gasp. She no longer looked like herself, but truly did look like a tiger. She had plastic surgery and tattoos to modify her face, neck, and chest. Black lines zig zagged all over her and her once blue eyes were now a bright yellow with thick, sweeping liner. She even had whisker implants and her upper lip split to mimic the mouth of a cat. Even her hair was different. The once light blonde locks now had chunk black highlights in it. 

You couldn't believe your eyes. Why would she do that? She was so pretty…

You must've asked your question out loud, because the next thing you know your husband's sitting next to you, sighing, “I don't know why, my darling rose. She was pretty, but now nobody will ever want her.” Taking the paper from you and passing you back your book, he knowingly said, “If only she didn't tell you lies; try to break us up. Then she wouldn’t be alone.”

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak, @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @gisellesprettylies

[equallyshaw]

ᴅᴀʏ ꜰɪᴠᴇ: ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀꜰᴜʟ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ - ɴɪᴄᴏ ʜɪꜱᴄʜɪᴇʀ

part of holidays with equallyshaw

warnings: none! just not a great piece lol.

word count: 1.5k

ɴɪᴄᴏ ʜᴀᴅ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇᴅ that he had been touch by angel, the first time he saw celine for the first time. and when he spoke to her, he believed in them. celine bernard, ever cunning (in a good way!) and sweet fell head over heels that night. hands were held, kisses on the cheeks were given and a promise to see one another - soon. her cheeks full of crimson and his whole being full of butterflies. a grin erupted on her face, when he walked her back to her apartment in new york, whispering promises to one another- what a wonderful world, she thought.

❅

that was 2 years ago now, at this point. a year went and came, and ended with an engagement- the couple head over absolute heels with one another. everybody in their respective friend groups and families knew the moment they met their partner, and saw how they interacted, they knew they were it for one another. and now 2 years in, they were to be wed. at the most unconventional time, but that's just who they were. the two were to be wed on friday, December 22nd at the courthouse, before spending the evening with their closest loved ones at a small boutique hotel in west village on the 24th of december.

after a win against the red wings, nico quickly whisked his partner away for a dinner in manhattan before heading over to the hotel in west village. "

"can you really believe were actually married?" she said hushed, as she leaned in towards nico. he smiled, taking ahold of her hand from across the table, "yeah, i can." the ever confidant nico gushed and she rolled her eyes softly. "ever the charmer love." she hummed, before taking a sip from the champagne fluke.

❅

the morning of, celine woke up just in time for a brunch with her bridesmaids, his mother and her mom. she had a spring in her step, the moment she stood up. she quickly made her way into the hallway heading upstairs to the insulated rooftop restaurant. she heard cheers, as soon as she stepped off the elevator and she quickly found her wedding party. "hi mutter." she said hugging her mother in law, and katja gave her a long and warm hug. she then turned towards her mom who pulled her in, making celine smile. "thankyou for being here, i appreciate each and every one of you." she smiled sitting down and raising a mimosa. the girls clinked their glasses together, feeling the heavy presence of champagne. making the new yorker grin.

❅

celine stood in front of her floor length mirror, smoothing down her silk white dress. her silver jimmy choo shoes clinking as she went to go grab her glass of water, and feeling startled when she heard a knock on her door. she sat it down, and hurried over. she opened it to nico looking absolutely smashing in his black tuxedo, he got customized just for this special occasion. it had her initials sewn into the border of the interior. he smiled widely, holding up the blush pink peonies in his hand. she smiled, opening up the door wider and letting him walk in. as soon as he shut it, nico took her hand to twirl her around a few times. "shcatzi." he hummed lowly, before pulling her in by the hips. he sighed heavily, while looking down at his wife. "hi ni. im almost ready, and then we can head down." she hummed trying to get out of his hold but he didn't budge. she giggled, "seriously two minutes and im good." she said but he still didn't move, "nico. im serious." she giggled, as pulled her in closer. "just one kiss. all i want." he grinned, and she rolled her eyes playfully whilst leaning up to give him a quick peck. "satisfied?" she questioned, quirking an eyebrow. "it'll do, for right now." he hummed letting her move away and finish making sure her makeup was complete.

❅

the two made their way into the small reception, immediately greeted with cheers and whistles. the two weaved themselves through tables up towards the center one that held their grooms and bridesmaids. she sat down after nico pulled out her chair for her, before draping an arm around her chair. he leaned in closely, "thankyou for making me the happiest man alive." and those chocolate swiss eyes poured into her soul, sending a good shiver up her spine. she smiled widely, "and thankyou for me making me the happiest woman alive." she hummed before closing the distance between them. it was cut short when the mc for the night waltzed up to the center of the dance floor - taking in all of the attention - and glimmering.

"welcome ladies and gents to the celebration of our favorite humans - celine and nico hischier!" jack began, waiting for the cheers to subside. "whom i promised not to embarrass them or at least not horribly..." he trailed off, causing celine to push her forehead into nico's shoulder. "i kid i kid, but im incredibly honored to have been chosen to speak with you all tonight and possibly steal their thunder." jack joked causing celine to chuckle, leaning into nico. "when i first met celine, i was dumbfounded. and yes, i know that's a big word i know." he said through chuckles, "but i was. i didn't understand how nico could have found what he had found in celine. she was an angel, absolutely the kindest person we'd have ever met. need soup when your sick? she's already coming over with homemade soup. need a pick me up? ready with her - well nicos credit card to grab a coffee or tea, to cheer us up. need a birthday gift? she's got the most thoughtful present at the ready." he paused, "need some real below the deck advice or wake up call? yeah... she's got you." he trailed off, causing the crowd to laugh as he looked back at the two. "then we've got nico..who with his ever charming swiss ways somehow charming miss celine." jack began, earing a playful glare from the captain. "i remember the night when the two of them met, nico called me as soon as he had dropped her off at her apartment. this man was speaking a mile a minute, and it was about 1 in the morning and so i just hung up on him. then an hour later, i get a call from tyler and he is screaming at me because nico ended up calling tyler-" and celine cut him off, "uncle tyler!" she yelled out causing the devils players to laugh. that was his nickname on the team, and tyler adored it.

"yes! uncle tyler, she is the one that came up with that beautiful nickname and now we tease him with it. but anywho! i got an earful that evening and then the next day when we went in. safe to say i never hang up on nico anymore, because ill have tyler to hear from but also ms. celine." he paused, laughing with the crowd. "but seriously, i couldn't have picked a better ending for the two of you, my closet confidants and best friends- congratulations again. so glad you arent as grumpy as you were before." he finished, causing celine to laugh loudly with the rest of the players. a running joke on the team before celine appeared, was that he was a grumpy captain or captain 'serious'.

celine turned towards nico smiling like a fool, "that was fun!" she beamed and he mimicked her, "that was fun." and she giggled. the couple then turned towards their best man and maid of honor and conversed as the food made its way out.

❅

celine sat there watching her friends and family converse with one another while basking in some quiet minutes before she'd inevitably get up to dance. she was sipping some champagne when nico gave her a quick kiss on her head, before sitting down next to her. "hi hun, you ok?" he questioned, his brown eyes flashing concern. she nodded, seeing that emotion fade. "just taking all of this in, not every day my whole family is all in one place." she hummed, setting down her champagne. "i got worried there for a second, when you didn't come see my aunt. thought you'd run off." he said leaning back a bit, and rubbing her upper back softly. she nodded, "sorry! my sister was trying to tell me something that's all. and then i saw that you had moved on so i sat down." she explained, "but i promise ill come find you if i need a breather." she hummed and he nodded.

"i still cant believe this is my life. " she said drinking more of the golden drink, "I've waited my entire life to experience the love i saw my parents show and have, and i found that with you. and i couldn't be more thankful this christmas." she said tilting her head just a bit, as he smiled. "im thankful every day the love that youve given and shown me, and im thankful for the person I've become since the minute i met you. i adore this life and you, celine hischier." and she smiled, "and i adore you, mr.hischier." she smiled before he placed a hand on her cheek, pulling her in for a big kiss.

oh, what a wonderful world the two have.

god this is horrible, but i needed to get it out. such bad writers block rn lmao

tags: @toasttt11 @dancerbailey3 @jayda12 @jackhues @cuttergauthier

[anissa-mason]

"Never let the same snake bite you twice."

Family get togethers had almost always been hell since as far back as Anissa could remember. The only time she was able to stomach them was when both her father and eldest brother, Kian, were in attendance. The two Mason men had a way of handling her mother, Jolie as if she were a harmless garden snake instead of the venomous and calculating viper that Anissa and her sister, Serena, knew her to be. 

While Anissa loathed her mother for her inability to keep from injecting her family with her venom, Serena seemed to idolize her for it, making the relationship between the sisters strained. Which was exactly why Anissa had ignored the first text Serena sent her early that afternoon. Just seeing the name wicked bitch appear on her phone screen was enough to sour her mood. It was only a moment later that another arrived. Then another. And another. Reluctantly, Anissa checked the text messages. 

I know your instinct is to ignore anything I send to you. 

But I'm not going to allow it this time. 

The bridesmaid fittings are at 3. 

If you're not there I'll send mom to get you. 

With a groan of frustration and as if Serena could feel how hard her thumbs hit her phone screen, Anissa furiously responded that she would be there. 

Everything had been going so smoothly for the first hour that Anissa forgot that she was in the presence of two venomous creatures. Serena was awful, but her friends weren't nearly as hard to stomach and the presence of mimosas helped to ease the nerves and take the edge off that Anissa had been feeling. Even then, she couldn't entirely relax. Not while her mother was in attendance. 

Anissa was grateful that she wasn't the maid of honor for her sister's wedding, that kept her mother's attention off of her throughout most of the fitting. She was too busy focusing her reptilian gaze on Ashlin making sure she fit the picture of perfection she required for her golden child. She was so close to finally making it out of the bridal boutique and back to her car when she felt the familiar scaly grasp of a hand wrap around her arm. 

Without much time to think, Anissa was yanked to the side, out of sight, cornered by the wretched beast she hated most in the world. Her mother. She didn't speak, just glared at the woman. As if the heat of her glare could cause the woman to burst into flames. 

“Don't be like that, Anissa.” Jolie Mason said in a harsh whisper. She had that fake smile plastered on her face, the one everyone else in the world fell for, the one that her patients trusted. The very smile that Anissa had always seen straight through to those massive fangs dripping with that deadly venom. 

“What do you want?” Anissa finally spoke, nearly choking on the rage she was trying so hard to contain

The smile fell from Jolie’s face. Displeased with her daughter's tone. “Isn't it obvious, sweetheart?” The concern in her voice almost sounded sincere as Jolie reached towards her daughter to tuck some of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “I've been so worried about you.” Jolie embraced Anissa then and that was when she felt the dig of her nails curling hard into the flesh of the backs of her arms. Inflicting pain where no one could see if they happened to be watching. That was Jolie, always careful about her image, not willing to tarnish it in the slightest. And then she began to whisper, a barrage of things she felt Anissa had done wrong.

“Those friends of yours. That man you've been seeing. The things you've been doing. You think I don't know simply because you're not living under my roof, but that's just not the case. I hear things. I see things. Do you have any idea how terribly your behavior reflects upon me? We've been over this so many times, Anissa. I have a reputation to uphold. You should be proud to call yourself my daughter. Instead you're parading around tarnishing my name and everything I stand for.” Each word was sharper than the last, dropping with more venom, her fingernails digging deeper. 

Anissa tore herself  away from Jolie, refusing to let that snake squeeze the life out of her. “Fuck you.” She hissed, spitting venom of her own before she turned and bolted out of the door to the bridal boutique. The slight breeze hit the backs of her arms and it stung, but she didn't stop until she was back in the safety of her car. Reaching one hand around she touched the place on the back of the opposite arm where Jolie had dug her nails into her skin. When she drew her hand back, her fingers were speckled with fresh blood. 

As she drove home, fighting the rage that stormed inside of her, she promised herself that the next time she had to face that viper, Anissa would be the one making her bleed. 

[jadzio-writing-prowess]

Inspector headcannons pt2:

Loves to lean over, pick up his wife into his arms and kiss her deep.

He's not the strongest guy around, but wants to keep in shape, to always be able to pick up his wife and kids.

His niece once made him a friendship bracelet and you can bet your ass, he wore it everywhere, until it broke from wear and tear.

His son continues drawing and his Inspector booth is absolutely cluttered with his drawings.

Him and Sergiu worked out a system of alerting the Inspector, if the Supervisor or the Ministry Inspector comes, to hide all the drawings before they come.

His favorite season is summer. It reminds him of home. He has his reasons to despise his hometown, but he looks fondly on the times, he could get out of the house and go into the nearby forest, or to read a book in a field. Nowadays he also likes the summer, because he can spend more time with his kids outside.

His favorite flowers are roses. Maybe a bit basic, but they remind him of his wife and their wedding.

He likes giving flowers to his friends sometimes too. He once gave Calensk a blue lily, Sergiu some yellow lilies and Elisa a small boutique of mimosas and purple geraniums (don't ask me how he got them).

His favorite drink is hot chocolate. It’s extremely hard to come by in Arstotzka. He only drank it once or twice, when he traveled to Impor for a few weeks. He wishes his kids will be able to taste it too.

His biggest fear is losing someone he loves. He gets very anxious when any of the family members or friends gets sick.

Other than that he has a small fear of open spaces/big open fields. He can't really explain it. It makes him feel dizzy. It started developing sometime in his 30s. And his life circleling, between his small apartment and his inspector booth, is not helping.

[conversationsofyou]

                Chapter One:

The Only Living Boy In New York

"Give a girl the right shoes and she can conquer the world." 

~Marilyn Monroe

        

Song: Manhattan by Ella Fitzgerald & Buddy Bregman

Present day. 

The perfect ringlets that form naturally at the ends of Harry's hair, which were there this morning, have metamorphosed into effortless beachy waves most people envy. The usual result from Manhattan humidity and overly fussing about with his fingers. It's a shampoo commercial moment as it falls against his back.

Harry squeezes the bridge of his nose, a temporary relief from sinus pressure. "Are we done?" he asks with his eyes closed.

He wonders if Zayn would notice if he took a kip on the chaise by the toilets. 

                   

“Never,” Zayn responds whilst his nimble fingers sort through a display of Celine totes.

He would.

To Zayn's dismay, Harry's met his limit of consumerism for the day. He typically loves to shop; specifically when it's time to restock his art studio. Although, he's accustomed to leisurely drifting in and out of thrift shops and vintage boutiques. He allows clothing and accessories to find him. This… this has been an Olympic event. Zayn warned him beforehand that his rookie status wouldn't be tolerated today.  

After an extensive marathon of pampering and excess, Harry's eager to go home and decompress from their shopping extravaganza. He loves Zayn fiercely, but Harry's borderline fatigued. This is the sixth or tenth store they've been to; he's lost count. Each one, serving a different purpose. Zayn had to explain this to him, like he did at the last three stores. 

"This isn't one of your nifty thrifty's, darling. There's no one-stop shop for all our needs. Well, maybe Bergdorf's." 

A crash course in fashion's utility as such has been mentally and physically strenuous. If they’d concluded this field trip after facials at the spa and mimosa brunch, Harry’d be in complete nirvana.

However, the tranquil mood a much needed massage had granted him has now been replaced with extreme tension in his muscles. His sciatica keeps jolting his nerves into spasm and his toes are most definitely numb. He would've worn trainers instead of his beloved boots if he knew it was going to be this intense.

"It costs a lot to be this beautiful," Zayn throws some more fortune cookie wisdom his way as he picks up a Louis Vuitton bum bag. 

"I lost my soul somewhere between Mercer and Broome," he responds dryly.

"We can't all be as cool as you." 

“Matt got this shirt for me in Tokyo,” Harry tugs at the end of a vintage Queen t-shirt from the eighties. 

Zayn looks up at him and smiles softly. “He had the best finds. I know it's sentimental, but I also know for a fact that Matt would've told you to buy whatever the fuck you please after selling out your first exhibition. This is a triumph for you. You're allowed.”

"I've bought some things since then." 

"Interior design excluded." Zayn's mouth twitches. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry concedes. "So, what's on the menu here?" 

There's no other option than to swim with the current force that is Zayn.

He looks at Harry, contemplating his wardrobe journey. "This place has phenomenal denim…" He holds his hands in the air, scanning the store, like a director setting up their next frame. "Thinking of some new washes. You'd look fabulous in a mid-blue rinse." Zayn turns back to him and tilts his head. "There are other colors besides black." 

"What's wrong with black jeans?"

"Nothing. Doesn't mean you have to wear them every day. You're not Superman."

Harry arches an eyebrow. "Aren't I?" 

Zayn ignores him while admiring a Givenchy satchel. He adjusts the collar on his gorgeous Alexander McQueen gunmetal leather jacket. It's not nearly cold enough yet for the biker chic inspired hide, but as he declared before they left Harry's flat, “We must suffer for fashion the same way we do for art."

Zayn glances over at him. "I do adore your vintage, starving artist tees and ripped jeans." He offers some reassurance. "Even though you could do with a little glam rock." Though he often makes fun, Zayn's admitted in the past he approves of Harry's style choices. No matter how eccentric they are. His eyes land on Harry's boots. "Starting with those." 

Harry looks down at the worn out brown leather boots he found at one of the first thrift shops he visited in the city. He treasures them. They've given him so many miles. He'll never part with them.

He looks back up. "No." 

“Veronica!” Zayn calls out and, like a best laid plan, a tall sales associate appears with silky raven tresses styled into a long bob haircut. Veronica approaches them wearing a stunning bordeaux Bowie inspired jumpsuit. Lipstick the same shade. It captures Harry's eye instantly.

She walks over and magically produces a large box with the Saint Laurent Paris logo printed onto it. Ignoring the box, Harry scans the details of Veronica's ensemble as he admires her whole look.

Zayn catches Harry's eye and asks, "Who makes this?" As he brushes a finger over the fabric of her sleeve. 

"Custom," Veronica responds vaguely. 

It's unique and Harry can understand her discretion. 

"H, you'll sympathize as an artist. When anything innovative or gorgeous as this is mass produced, it usually turns to shit. There's something about a piece being one of a kind that's priceless."

Veronica nods her head once.

"I wouldn't share either." Zayn nods back and brings the focus back to Harry, who automatically shakes his head at the box he's holding.

Zayn clears his throat, ignoring his stubbornness and signals for the big reveal. Veronica lifts the lid and Harry swears a little golden light appears, leaving a glow shining from the box.

 

Zayn tilts the box closer to him for the full effect. "Harry, let me introduce you to your new friend, Chelsea."

He holds up the gorgeous, buttery tan suede heeled boots. "Classic and a forever staple." 

"My mother, grandmothers, and aunts all passed down their retail D.N.A. to me. These," he gestures to the boots, "are an investment." Zayn imparts some more wisdom.

Harry ignores his rising heart rate and briefly hesitates. Inevitably he gives in, running his fingers along the soft leather. The sensation is divine and smells heady in the best way possible. Boots have always been his weakness. He succumbs.

"Fine," he says like it's an imposition and grabs the boots. 

He sits down to try them on and takes off his old boots while placing the faded leather comrades next to a plush chair beside him. He's wearing his Hello Kitty socks today.

"Precious," Veronica comments and walks away towards another customer who's borderline distressed.

Song: Get On Your Boots by U2

Harry meticulously takes out all of the cardboard and packing paper. The boots slip on like a second skin. He stands up, beaming.

"Yeah. Thought so," he smirks. Zayn's super hero sixth sense always prevails. He knew Harry would eventually buckle for the gorgeous footwear.

Harry spins around in front of the mirror and does a little jig with his toes pointed.

Zayn shakes his head as he walks away. "I'm going to look for some jeans."

Harry gives him a salute and walks around the store, enjoying the boots that have already changed his life a little bit. They even have a slight heel. The soles produce a satisfying clacking sound against the stone floor as he strolls back to his old boots. They look so sad, slouching against the chair, out of shape and worn with holes. Harry frowns and picks them up. He knows it's corny but, "Still love you the best. Thank you for taking me where I needed to be," he says quietly.

Someone within his ear shot snorts, and he gently drops the boots. Harry looks up slightly embarrassed.

☆ This was definitely more than a snippet. A snip deluxe. I'd love to one day finish this fic I started seven years ago. All the inspo to my fellow writers and creators who have started something and life has gotten in the way or time is not of the essence. I empathize and relate on all levels.

Shout out to my Beta, Lau @nyxdaughterofkhaos , nothing but love and respect!!! Looking forward to continuing this journey with you ❤️

As always, if anyone has any art to share.

@kingsofeverything @crinkle-eyed-boo @twopoppies @beelou @fallinglikethis @femstyles @harryshandbag @andyouknowitis @lookslikefairytale @rhea-the-eradicator @toomanydreamers

[televisionforwhales]

Candids of Chris Pine are like a food blogger went to review a new boba stand and spotted a fully nude man sipping his tea in the background but the man darted thru a vintage clothing boutique and snagged any article of anything along the way, intended for man woman and child, to hastily clothe himself in out the other side. Hit him up on his pager.

Photoshoots of Chris Pine are like I'm having brunch with my ex-wife. that's my ex wife. She says she has student loans but her parents paid for her BA. She says it's important to dress up to see a movie, to make an occasion of it. We once argued for 3 hours because I said her running commentary during No Country For Old Men (2007) was disruptive ("well if it can't withstand counter-ambience..."). Early in our courtship, I told her she had a dancer's grace and she replied that she didn't usually grant men pity sex but she'd be willing to make an exception this time. We're at brunch and she says she's so glad we're having an amicable divorce, for the children. We don't have children. The divorce is finalized but she refers to it in the present tense ("we'll always be divorcing"). She suggested brunch because she said we'd have drinks at dinner, and who knows what that might entail. She's ordered a mimosa. She says, over her mimosa, that it's trashier to drink at brunch and it's healthy to lean into that. she laughs, loud. the bit has a layer of irony but I'm not certain where. She's stirring her mimosa with a teaspoon using her pinky. She has a ring on her pinky with a disproportionately sized skull (ironic?). She's stirring, with her pinky tightly wrapped around the spoon, and she's preposterous. I want her so so so so bad.

[realmackross]

PARTIES: @debauchfairy, @realmackross TIMING: A Saturday morning in early April SUMMARY: Mack meets Kiernan for their first brunch were they share mimosas and all the hot goss. WARNINGS: None!

Kieran didn’t have many friends. It had made sense when him and his mom had been, y’know, basically hiding from the whole world and moving every couple of months but even after somewhat settling here in this strange town, he wasn’t even really sure he knew how. Sure, people liked him - of course they did - but those were all fleeting connections and perhaps a few too many of them tainted with imposed spontaneity and bad decisions. Not that he needed friends, especially not human ones. It seemed like a hassle when it came to upkeep and fuck forbid he’d mingle with fae again. 

Enter Mackenzie Ross. Undead, apparently, but a talented and stylish actress. She had taste so it had been no surprise when she walked into Covet Couture but the fact that she’d been immune to Kieran’s magic had been a fun discovery. Not that he cared, seeing as he was decked out with hooves and antlers. She was interesting, and gossipy, and after way too many weeks just talking about it they’d finally set up a lunch. 

“Stunning, as always,” he greeted as she arrived, picking apart her wardrobe with a satisfied smile. So far they’d only talked when she dropped by the store and a few times online so Kieran was happy they were finally doing this. Closed off from people all those years, he’d at least had access to the internet which had included Mack’s work along with every tabloid article of her glamorous life, something he’d deeply longed for back then. “I already ordered mimosas.” Could she even get drunk? If only he could reveal that he knew her secret without coming clean about his own. 

—

It was nice to have a friend Mack could sit down and gossip with. Though she wasn’t much of a gossip, until she had a few glasses of wine or champagne, the real treat was finally getting to spend some genuine friend time with Kieran. She had met him at his little boutique in town, and they had hit it off immediately. He had reminded her of home; a place Mackenzie was still trying to figure out how to let go of. And until she could fully trust herself to have this zombie stuff under control, a place she would sparsely visit. Plus, all the talk and tabloids about Brody didn’t help matters, and while they were dying down, she knew if she had shown her face in LA, all the talk would fire right back up again. She had, after all, murdered her fiance by accident, and there was never going to be any solace from that. At least not that she could ever see or feel she truly deserved.

As she stepped foot into the small cafe, Mack let her eyes scan over the patrons finally laying sight on Kieran – The best dressed boy in the entire establishment, “Uh, I could totes say the same for you! Is this new?” She looked over his outfit and was impressed. “Everytime I see you, I swear you just get classier and classier.” She smiled warmly as she took a seat across from him at the small table. “You’re a legend.” Though Mack wouldn’t really be able to taste it, she was an actress and could pretend to enjoy it with the best of them; especially if he had thought to take the time to order for them.

—

Kieran gave something of a humble shrug, not quite matching the pleased expression on his face as he picked off an imaginary piece of lint from the sleeve of his jacket. “Hmm, maybe,” he answered slyly, smile only widening as Mack continued with the compliments. “How am I supposed to keep my ego in check if you keep flattering me, Ross?” Kieran asked, fully unserious. As if even a miniscule part of him actually wanted to keep said ego in check, where the hell was the fun in that?

Leaning back with a content sigh as the mimosas arrived, right on time, Kieran trailed the departing waiter with his eyes before turning back to Mackenzie. “What do you think? Worth a shot? I’m pretty sure he was looking you over but it seemed very PG so maybe just a fan. Although the sneakers are giving me a bit too much ‘frat boy’.” Turning slightly in his chair for a second glance, Kieran then cocked his head at Mack. “Straight, poor or just bad fashion sense, thoughts?”

—

Mack watched Kieran shrug, shaking her head in return, “I’m going to keep complimenting my friend who knows style okay? It’s few and far between in this town. Most of these people prefer the just rolled out of bed look, which is okay, I guess, but it wouldn’t hurt to see more people take pride in themselves.” Of course, she couldn’t always talk. There had been plenty of times Mack had been seen around town in an oversized hoodie, a ball cap, and yoga pants. But even then, she somehow still looked more put together than some of the people in the town. “Besides, that cut looks good on you. Take the compliment, Kieran.” She laughed.

Seeing the waiter walk over with the mimosas, Mack couldn’t help, but look up at him and smile, but as soon as he was gone, she could hear Kieran’s comments, “Well first off, he is cute. Not my type, but definitely adorable. Second, I have a girlfriend, so you don’t have to worry about me trying to steal him away…” There was only one man who would ever fully have her heart now, and he was dead. “Plus, with that outfit and those shoes…Thinking Frat boy with just bad fashion sense. Though the apron kind of makes him cuter in a Tyler from Wednesday sort of way.” Mackenzie didn’t doubt there were hydes living in Wicked’s Rest. She just hadn’t seen one yet, unless…She looked the waiter over again as he served people, “I say we question him when he comes back to take our order. I don’t want to just go off of looks, because I’m already thinking you two would be supes cute together.”

—

Nodding along solemnly as Mack, justifiably, took shots at the general lack of upkeep in this town, Kieran found himself surveying the surrounding tables to confirm her facts. Sure, some of them had potential, an eye for color combination and a general aversion to graphic tees (he shuddered mildly at the thought) but it was just so obvious which table took the prize for best dressed and best looking. “Well, if you insist,” he sighed dramatically, flashing his teeth. Just one of the reasons he was fond of keeping Mackenzie around, endless supply of compliments that were actually based on knowledge and not just empty flattery. Not that Kieran wouldn’t also accept empty flattery.  

Mack spared no detail in sharing her thoughts and Kieran mulled over each one, having to suppress a slight eye roll as she mentioned her relationship - seriously, so much wasted potential. “That reference means nothing to me but he is weirdly making that apron work, that we can agree on.” Whether or not Kieran was actually interested in more than simply discussing this stranger’s pros and cons with Mack remained to be seen. “Alright, don’t go writing a wedding speech yet, sweetheart. If I were to date anyone and that’s a big if, I don’t think café waiter would be the way to go.” Or a human for that matter. 

“Some subtle questioning does sound fun, though.” Kieran picked up the menu, glancing over it as he sipped at the mimosa, enjoying the bubbling of the champagne on his tongue. “You ordering?” he asked casually, itching to know what exactly Mack would prefer to be eating that wasn’t exactly available on a brunch menu. 

—

“I do insist. So there.” Mack playfully stuck her tongue out at Kieran. This had been a friendship she hadn’t expected to form with such ease. But the day she entered his shop, and they first spoke, it was like the Fashion Gods had spoken up and told the universe that this was meant to happen, and after a few more interactions online and at the boutique, here they were discussing whether the waiter would be a good match, “Are you kidding me? You haven’t seen Wednesday? Okay, we need to change that, like, asap! You’re coming over for a Wednesday marathon, and then you’ll see what I mean. But until then.” Mackenzie pulled out her phone and pulled up a picture of Tyler from the show, “See? Now if he had the curls, we’d be in business.” She put her phone away, “But that whole messy thing is actually working.”

Mack took a sip of her mimosa tasting nothing as she listened to Kieran continue on, “Oh come on. I could totally see you running your boutique, and coming over here for lunch where your littles are running around in their miniature aprons following Daddy around excited to see fashion Daddy walk through the door.” A grin spread across her face as she looked down at the menu sitting in front of her, “And of course I’m ordering. This is a brunch date right?” She glared at him playfully, before scanning the menu, perking up at the spicy options available.

—

Kieran rolled his eyes fondly as she scolded him - he couldn’t exactly spend his nights on Netflix binges when there was so much else to do and see. Not to mention that he’d already spent too much of his life doing exactly that, substituting actual interactions since they’d been off limits and too dangerous. But he couldn’t exactly say no to Mack considering the fervor in which she pitched this idea. As long as she’d allow him to bring drinks. “Fine. If you find a way to make it into a drinking game, I’m in. No way am I watching teenagers fall in love or whatever while sober.” Kieran peered at the phone, giving a soft hum of agreement. It was a pretty accurate reference. 

As Mack went into vivid detail of the little fantasy, Kieran’s face showed an impressive mix of amusement and distaste, eyebrows raising at the mention of children. “Oh, you clearly need to get to know me better if you think I could be trusted to raise children,” he argued, needing a good drink of the mimosa to wash down the mere thought of that. No fucking thank you. Waving off her glare, he turned in his chair to catch the waiter’s eye, holding up the menu to indicate that they were ready. “How am I to know if you’re on some insane actress diet or not?” Blood or flesh would definitely score as an insane diet, though maybe just on par with feeding on literal emotions. 

“Hi,” Kieran greeted smoothly as the waiter shuffled up, shooting him a disarming smile and gauging the reaction. Placing his order, he waited patiently for Mackenzie to do the same, catching a glimpse at the waiter’s name tag. “Say, Benjamin, settle a debate for us, would you? In the new Baywatch movie, who is objectively hotter, Efron or Alexandra Daddario?”

—

Mack was ecstatic when Kieran agreed to join her for a Wednesday binge. It was one of her favorite shows, despite the main character looking oddly like Nora. She shuddered at the thought, but the actress was so good at her role, that Mack was easily able to look past the eerie similarities, “Yes! And if that’s the only way you’ll watch with me, then fine. But you’re supplying the alcohol, and it has to include Fireball. I’m not made of money here.” Actually she was, but that's besides the point.

“Oh come on, Fashion Daddy. Which is totally your new name now by the way. I hope you like it, cause that’s all I’m referring to you from now on! You’d totally make a great dad! Plus, those kids would have so much fashion in their blood they’d bleed glitter and rhinestones.” She took another sip of her mimosa, barely getting a hint of bubbles on her deadened tongue. “Because I am currently not an actress. Does Wicked’s Rest look like it lends itself to the entertainment industry. Goo Girl is a thing of the past. Thank God.” 

Mackenzie watched as the waiter came back over, ready to grill him about his fashion sense to see if he and her friend would be a perfect match. Giving one last glimpse to the menu, Mack ordered the spiciest thing available adding some guacamole for good measure living up to that Hollywood stereotype.

As the waiter took down her order, he listened to the question at hand, while Mack easily shot Kieran a look of amusement. Once he was finished, he looked back up, “Uh, I’m gonna have to go with…” He chewed on his bottom lip for a minute, before looking back between the pair, “Gonna have to go with my man, Efron. Have you seen his quads, but more so his biceps? Gym goals. Like Alexandra is hot, and I’d totally go out with that, but dude. To spend an afternoon getting all the tips and tricks from Efron, would be golden, especially with this huge weightlifting comp, I’m trying to get into. I may not look like it yet, but these washboard abs are coming along. I’ll go get this order placed for you guys. Solid question though. Hope that helped.” He slapped Kieran on the back firmly, before walking off.

Mackenzie stifled a laugh looking between Kieran and the waiter. She definitely hadn’t seen that one coming, “Well, Fashion Daddy. Maybe you won’t have to worry about Cafe Daddy, since you know, he’s totally into weightlifting and hot chicks.” Her voice mimicked his.

—

“Fireball?” Kieran questioned with a grimace, followed by a soft shake of his head. “I’ll bring it but I’m not touching that shit. Also, remind me, how much was that bracelet of yours?” He nodded towards her wrist with a knowing expression, as if he wasn’t properly decked out with expensive accessories himself. In his defense, many of them had been gracious gifts, given with various amounts of conscious willingness. “Woah, I don’t look anywhere old enough to deserve that nickname, alright? Respect the age restrictions of the Daddy title,” he argued with a laugh, fully deflecting from the conversation of children now. 

Clicking his tongue, Kieran cocked his head. “Aw, come on. You’ll always be an actress at heart. Can’t run away from your true self.” Wasn’t that just the truth. 

The question had been a silly one, testing the waters and mostly gauging whether or not their waiter would be appalled at the idea of picking a man as the hotter choice, objectively or not. Kieran had not expected the way his soul begged to leave his body as Benjamin expanded oh so eloquently on his answer. Stifling a groan as the man slapped his back, Kieran let his eyes close in pure disappointment, mostly because he’d had to listen to that. “Wow,” he breathed, straightening in his seat. 

Downing the rest of his mimosa as Mackenzie’s dream of a happy little family shattered, Kieran shuddered dramatically at her eerie impression. “Yeah, that’s a solid pass. Maybe I’ll check in after a few months though, see how those washboard abs are coming along. He might do if he just… doesn’t do a lot of talking.” 

—

Mackenzie knew Fireball was gross. Every time she mentioned it, she often got the same reaction, but until someone made something much hotter to satiate her dead taste buds, the zombie was stuck drinking it, if she wanted a slight buzz. That was just the cards she had been dealt. The bracelet and the actress at heart comment were something of a different tale, and she quickly looked away as if she hadn’t heard him.

Unfortunately, Kieran’s cards were looking a little different at the moment. He would forever be Fashion Daddy. That much was settled. But it no longer was the waiter who Mack saw as someone being a viable option for her sassy and extremely fashionable friend. It was still hilarious though, especially the shoulder slap, “Oh come on. You don’t want to hear him talk all day about how good his body looks and what happened at the gym with his bros? I’m sure he’s got some extra spicy tales. And then, just think, you could give him a nice shoulder massage and feel those firm deltoids.” Mackenzie hated herself for knowing as much as she did about what gym rats focused on. “But I do have one question…based on how hard that back slap was…is he actually as strong as he lets on? Cause looked on the scrawny side to me.” She finished the mimosa.

—

The complete lack of response didn’t go unnoticed - talented actress or not, there was no faking that she hadn’t heard him. Nevertheless, Kieran wasn’t here to dig into topics that were clearly off limits, that sounded grueling and emotional. And she’d dropped the whole ‘literal dad’ discussion without a second thought so they seemed to be on the same, unspoken wave length. Fuck those topics, onto bigger and better things. 

Not Benjamin, though. “Yeah, no. There’s only room for one conceited individual in the bedroom and that position is already filled.” Kieran gestured to himself with a flourish before giving a sigh, glancing once more over his shoulder to the man whose looks were wasted on an absolutely tragic personality. “I do love some nice shoulders, though,” he added wistfully, only partially joking. He did not appreciate anything enough to go to the lengths of a shoulder massage - seriously, if anyone was getting spoiled, it was obvious who should be the first choice. 

Laughing at her question, Kieran made a show of thinking it over. “He’s definitely leaning more towards Efron in Hairspray,” he concluded. “But it was still an unnecessarily straight slap.” Holding up his empty glass to catch the attention of any waiter that wasn’t Brojamin, Kieran shamelessly ordered another round for the pair of them, ready to settle down for a continued discussion about things with no real emotional relevance whatsover. And wasn’t that really the perfect thing to go along with a nice brunch?

[stationintern]

a promise that i made

A little ficlet I wrote based on Didn't Know What I Was In For by Better Oblivion Community Center. It felt very Draco to me.

Draco wakes up at 5:30 on a nondescript Tuesday morning. He brews a pot of coffee. He sips and he thinks and he stares past the beige curtains of his flat at the sparrow pecking around the windowsill.

He realizes he’s never done anything for anyone.

On Friday, he walks past the same bulletin board in the lobby he’s walked past every day since he moved into this shabby old building, but this time he looks at the poster with the pink ribbon, and on Saturday, he signs up for a half-marathon.

He’s never been a runner, and half-way through he seriously doubts that his legs could ever cure cancer, and thinks about how the entrance fee is probably pennies in the grand scheme of things. But he sweats it out, and he runs, and he runs, and he runs, and he collapses on the finish line once he’s done, and vows to never do it again.

Thursday’s are awful. Draco doesn’t know why, they’re just always shit. He’s become one with his couch, wrapped up in enough blankets to build a small castle in his living room. A commercial asking for a penny a day flickers on the screen, interrupted by brief static– a consequence of being ensconced in Draco’s magic day after day. Draco would call. He’s recently become interested in charity, after all. But, his home phone is all the way in the kitchen, and he’s comfortable.

It makes him sick, but he still doesn’t call.

On Sunday, he meets Pansy for brunch. Her boutique is closed on Sundays.

“I saw a piece on the news about the spike in homelessness after the war.” she says, flippantly, like it’s just a conversation topic. They’re actual people, sleeping on the streets of London, ducking under the cover of shopfronts when the rain pours and drenches their sleeping bags. Draco should be one of them. Draco shouldn’t have anything. “Merlin, I could have cried.”

“But did you?” Draco says. It feels like vomiting.

Pansy looks affronted, clutching her mimosa glass to her chest, “What?”

“Did you? Cry, I mean?”

“Well, no.” she turns her nose toward the sky, the picture of nobility and filth all at once. It’s like looking in a mirror. “But I could have.”

On Monday evening, Draco sits in front of the telly, blanketless on purpose. He’s waiting.

“For just a penny a day, you could support a child who has been affected by food insecurity-”

Draco hurriedly scratches the number down on an old take-out menu. He calls.

Draco doesn’t have much money. Unlike Pansy, he was left with nothing but whatever he could get selling old relics he’d managed to smuggle out of the Manor before it fell into Ministry hands. Stuck with his job at a Muggle country club, folding pool towels and serving drinks to the people he used to feel superior toward. They sneer at him, or worse, act like he’s not there. Some people think justice was never served, that he should be locked away from good society forever. However, being among so-called good society has taught him more than Azkaban ever could.

Here are three things Draco has learned since the war:

1. All the systems he once thought were in place at any given establishment in order to keep it running smoothly do not exist. Everything runs horribly, even the most expensive of country clubs, held together by rotting beams hidden from the eyes of customers and nestled on the backs of the pariahs that are employed there.

2. Being good would be easier if he was rich. Therefore, it makes his former behavior and the behavior of those he once associated with all the more confusing.

3. People are good. Deeply good. Disgustingly good. A lot of them just don’t know where to put all that goodness, and that’s the problem Draco’s running into now.

Draco went into a church once, just to see. The minister was terrifying, American, talking about the end times. He didn’t know that Draco had already seen the end of the world, and had to keep living beyond it. He fell for Lucifer’s tricks and damned himself, and one passage he read described Draco in naked detail.

Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness, who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter.

There’s another marathon in March. Draco remembers his vow, then decides to forget it, and then he practices.

He runs until he can’t breathe and then keeps going. He sweats all the moisture out of his body, puts some back in, and then does it again. And again. And again. Until it hurts, but not quite as bad as the first time.

When March finally dawns, Harry Potter is waiting at the starting line.

“Thank you, Potter.” Draco had said after his trial, freshly free of his shackles but still sore, his ego and body beaten and battered. “How can I repay you?”

“Do something.” Potter replied, slipping Draco’s hawthorn wand into his waiting, trembling hands, “Anything. As long as it’s good.”

And maybe the life he’s been living as of late is his way of finally repaying Potter, or maybe it’s a desire he had all along, but now Draco has to face him.

“Doing something good?” Potter asks, lacing up his trainers. The question is poised as casual, but there’s a whole world of curiosity beyond his eyes. 

For some reason, Draco doesn’t want to admit it. He wants to tell Potter about all of those times he sat in front of his television, watching the images of half-starved children pass by and still refusing to pick up the phone. He wants to make himself seem irredeemable, because he’s still not sure if he believes in his own ability to change. But Harry Potter has always stood for hope, and Draco feels it when he looks in his direction.

He wants to say, “I don’t know how much good I have to do to balance the scales. I don’t know when I’ll cross the threshold from repaying my debts to being truly, wholly good. I don’t think any of these marathons actually do anything, but I’m going to keep signing up anyway.”

Instead, he says, “Maybe. Maybe.”

Potter runs beside him, obviously slowing his pace to keep his spot next to Draco. When they reach the half-way point, Draco turns to him.

“Do you think this is actually curing cancer?” he asks, choking his words out while trying to inhale fresh air into his aching lungs.

Potter shakes his head, “Maybe. Anything to help, I guess.”

“Yeah.” Draco says, stopping, resting his hands on his knees and squinting up at Potter’s form, outlined by the afternoon sun, “Anything good, right?”

Potter nods, a toothy smile creeping onto his glowing, sweat-soaked face, “Anything good.”

if you have the spoons, feel free to check it out over on ao3 as well! your lovely comments are always appreciated.

[olympic-paris]

Tout droit sorti d’« Alice au pays des merveilles », ce parfum, dans son flacon abeille géant en cristal de Baccarat (245 ml, quand même), nous a jeté un sort. Si on pouvait le caresser : un grand carré en soie lavée, ultra doux, chaud et léger. Si on pouvait le déguster : un petit sablé à la vanille trempé dans un doigt de rhum brun. S’il se matérialisait : une branche de mimosa posée sur le parquet ciré d’une salle de danse de l’Opéra. Qui suis-je ? L’Extrait Abeille de Guerlain (47 exemplaires numérotés, dans les boutiques Guerlain.).

[thinkrp]

happy friyay folks! just one more day until member reserves begin, and we can't wait to see more of what y'all have planned soon! incase you aren't already, feel free to jump in our discord to say an early hello! today we're diving into sable grove, ga - the sleepier of the two locations that make up bennington bay. while technically slightly smaller in population, it's expansive and focuses on a neighborly friendliness that it feels it's high-rise counterpart lacks. view more about its history and six neighborhoods below!

✨ explore sable grove, ga ✨

sable grove as a residential town sprung up across the bay from remington during the 1830s/1840s. the area attracted those looking to get rich quick and eventually grew from a sleepy gold claim to the attractive town it is today. nowadays, if you visit the town, you’ll find period architecture in the trendy historical downtown area, which is host to thriving commerce and beautiful green spaces, and places such as the charming independent art house cameo cinema on main street. or maybe a stroll down the st. veil pier at dusk or dining at one of the restaurants in the harbor is more your speed. the town is the proud home of the sable grove wolverines, two-time state football champions, and national runner-ups, and the small-town suburban feel often attracts families looking for somewhere quieter than the city to settle down. to the south is beargrass national park, thorpe lighthouse, and beautiful beaches with pristine sand and opportunities to see local flora and fauna.

harborview

population - 8816 | price point - $$ to $$$$

harborview is an eclectic collection of charming bars, taverns, and restaurants all spread throughout the harbor. stop in at the bayfront tavern for a beer or to peruse their cocktail menu, or head to the boatyard, where you can find delicious caught-fresh today seafood dishes. the pride and joy of harborview is st. veil pier, home to pop-up street food nights if you’re looking for a bite to eat illuminated by multicolored string lights. you’ll also find the harbor marina here, with moorings for yachts and small boats. the housing in this area, though limited, is mostly midrange apartments above the various businesses along the seafront as well as some properties on the waterfront, as well as some higher-end waterfront properties.

hazelhurst

population - 18101 | price point - $$$ to $$$$

hazelhurst is the educational hub in sable grove. home to the jump cannon planetarium and observatory, which is just a short bus ride for kids to visit from the nearby elementary, middle, and high schools. the area here is full of green spaces and sports fields, and the local high school football and soccer teams have an enviable track record (go wolverines!) and huge crowds flock to watch them play. halley’s park is a popular haunt for dog walkers, picnickers, and hosts the annual county fair when it comes to town. the housing here is predominantly family homes, hitting the upper mid-range, with parents often moving here to ensure their child is in the catchment area and within easy distance to the schools.

maconville

population - 15649 | price point - $$$$ to $$$$$

maconville is most well-known for its gated community. beachfront property in a beautiful location as far removed from the lanes as you can get in the town. here you’ll find boutique shops and carefully planned streets and buildings. maconville is also home to the bennington golf & country club, where you can play a round of golf against the backdrop of the bay and then have mimosas at the bar. there’s also the maconville outdoor pool which is popular with families and kids, especially in the hot summer months. housing here is upmarket and expensive, and the area also has a thriving boutique hotel and holiday lets for you to enjoy the beautiful location.

midway

population - 25744 | price point - $$$ to $$$$$

midway is the historical downtown district. with its neat, wide brick streets and period charm, midway is popular with locals and tourists alike. home to cameo cinema, a plethora of independent stores, and a few chain stores as well. the town hall as well as sable grove sheriff’s department can be found in this neighborhood. the area often attracts those looking to find something to do in the town: striker’s alley, a multi-entertainment facility offering bowling and arcade games, is a popular stop, or there’s the meticulous sunnyvale park which is perfect for dog walking or a picnic in the summer. the housing is mostly apartment-based and mid-range in price.

the lanes

population - 12517 | price point - $ to $$

the lanes is one neighborhood in sable grove that you won’t find on postcards. leaning more rural, the lanes on the outskirts of town is the least affluent part of the town, with not much in the way of entertainment or business. despite the deprivation, there’s a sense of community here though. hyde woods runs along the edge of the lanes, bunched up right against elmore shores, a mobile home park. some claim the woods are haunted, and many worried parent forbid their children from exploring the caves nearby. rundown in comparison to the other neighborhoods in the town, housing here is made up of small family homes, trailers, and cheaper apartment blocks.

thorpe point

population - 6173 | price point - $$ to $$$$$

thorpe point is home to several sable grove landmarks, such as the towering thorpe lighthouse, beautiful local beaches, infamous wrecks, and beargrass national park. if you enjoy water activities, sports, and being close to nature, thorpe point has some of the most iconic scenery in the area. the housing here is varied here, ranging from homes more rural in nature to beach houses right on the waterfront. due to the location, some homes fall towards the more expensive end of the scale, though price can fall the further from town you’re willing to travel and has the greatest mix of price points.

[aspencavalli]

From 2018-2021🌹💖😻 Baby Aspen Fun Fact:The first three photos I took for my first OnlyFans I had while I was working a shift at Sunglass Hut making pennies. I left that job quickly! 😹💖

Oh and the 7th Photo I was tipsy af off mimosas modeling for a boutique I worked at 2015-2016ishhh? 😹At the end of the runway an ex was waiting for me & chased me around the damn harbor😹😹for like 10 mins

[mayamiwynwood]

Start Your Day Right: Discover the Best Breakfast Spots in Wynwood at Mayami

Wynwood, Miami’s vibrant and artistic neighborhood, is renowned for its colorful murals, trendy boutiques, and lively atmosphere. But beyond the street art and nightlife, Wynwood is also home to some of the best breakfast in Wynwood city. Among these, Mayami Wynwood stands out as a must-visit destination for anyone looking to enjoy a delicious and energizing start to their day.

The Mayami Wynwood Experience

At Mayami Wynwood, breakfast isn’t just a meal; it’s an experience. Known for its fusion of traditional and contemporary flavors, Mayami offers a menu that caters to a variety of tastes. Whether you’re in the mood for something light and healthy or a more indulgent morning feast, Mayami has something to satisfy your cravings.

A Fusion of Flavors

Mayami Wynwood’s breakfast menu is a testament to the culinary creativity that defines the restaurant. Here, you’ll find a blend of Latin American influences with a modern twist, resulting in dishes that are both familiar and innovative.

1. Avocado Toast with a Twist: Avocado toast has become a breakfast staple, but at Mayami, it’s taken to the next level. Topped with fresh ingredients like heirloom tomatoes, radishes, and a sprinkle of chili flakes, this dish is a perfect blend of creamy, crunchy, and spicy.

2. Mayami Chilaquiles: A hearty option for those who like their breakfast with a bit of spice, the Mayami Chilaquiles feature crispy tortilla chips smothered in a rich salsa, topped with a fried egg, queso fresco, and fresh cilantro. It’s a comforting dish that’s sure to satisfy.

3. Tropical Smoothie Bowl: For a lighter option, the Tropical Smoothie Bowl is a refreshing choice. Packed with fresh fruits like mango, pineapple, and banana, and topped with granola and coconut flakes, it’s a nutritious way to start your day.

4. Huevos Rancheros: Another classic with a Mayami twist, the Huevos Rancheros features perfectly cooked eggs on a bed of black beans, served with salsa roja and crispy corn tortillas. The dish is a celebration of bold flavors and is sure to wake up your taste buds.

A Perfect Pairing: Coffee and Cocktails

No breakfast is complete without the perfect beverage, and Mayami Wynwood offers a selection that caters to both coffee lovers and those who prefer something a bit stronger.

1. Mayami’s Signature Coffee: Start your morning with a cup of Mayami’s signature coffee, made from freshly roasted beans and expertly brewed. Whether you prefer it black, with a splash of milk, or as a creamy latte, the coffee at Mayami is the perfect companion to your breakfast.

2. Morning Cocktails: If you’re in the mood to indulge, Mayami also offers a selection of morning cocktails. The Mimosa, made with freshly squeezed orange juice and sparkling wine, is a classic choice. For something a bit more adventurous, try the Mayami Bloody Mary, which combines the traditional flavors of tomato juice and vodka with a hint of spice.

A Stylish Setting

The ambiance at Mayami Wynwood is just as impressive as the food. The restaurant’s interior is a blend of modern design and traditional elements, creating a space that’s both chic and inviting. Whether you choose to sit inside or on the outdoor patio, you’ll be surrounded by the vibrant energy that makes Wynwood such a unique destination.

The Perfect Start to Your Day

Whether you’re a local or a visitor, starting your day with breakfast at Mayami Wynwood which is best miami restaurant. The combination of delicious food, expertly crafted beverages, and a stylish setting makes it one of the best breakfast spots in Wynwood. So, the next time you find yourself in this artistic neighborhood, make sure to stop by Mayami for a breakfast experience that’s sure to leave you satisfied and ready to take on the day.

[brisktransfers]

Top 10 Luxury Hotels in Barcelona for a Glamorous Getaway

Barcelona is a city that exudes glamour and sophistication. It's no wonder that it's home to some of the most luxurious hotels in the world. If you're looking for a truly unforgettable getaway, be sure to check out one of these 10 top-rated luxury hotels in Barcelona.

Mandarin Oriental, Barcelona This stunning hotel is located on the Passeig de Gràcia, one of Barcelona's most famous boulevards. It offers guests a world of luxury and indulgence, with its Michelin-starred restaurants, award-winning spa, and rooftop pool with panoramic city views.

El Palace Hotel Barcelona This historic hotel is a true icon of Barcelona. It was first opened in 1919 and has hosted some of the world's most famous guests, including Coco Chanel and Salvador Dalí. The hotel's elegant interiors and impeccable service have made it a favorite among discerning travelers.

Hotel Arts Barcelona This contemporary hotel is located right on the beachfront, offering stunning views of the Mediterranean Sea. It's a popular choice for celebrities and VIPs, thanks to its stylish design, luxurious amenities, and world-class dining options.

The Barcelona EDITION This stylish hotel is located in the heart of Barcelona's Eixample district. It's a popular choice for design-conscious travelers, thanks to its cool and contemporary interiors. The hotel also has a rooftop bar and pool with stunning views of the city.

Hotel Alma Barcelona This boutique hotel is located in the charming Gothic Quarter. It's a haven of tranquility and sophistication, with its minimalist design and peaceful atmosphere. The hotel also has a rooftop bar and pool with stunning views of the city's skyline.

Hotel Casa Calvet This boutique hotel is located in the Gràcia district, known for its charming streets and trendy shops. It's a great choice for those who want to experience the authentic Barcelona. The hotel has a beautiful rooftop terrace with stunning views of the city.

Hotel Hafla Barcelona This stylish hotel is located in the El Born district, a popular spot for shopping and dining. It's a great choice for those who want to be in a trendy neighborhood. The hotel has a cool and contemporary design, and a rooftop bar with stunning views of the city.

Hotel Yurbban Passage This boutique hotel is located in the Gótico district, close to the Barcelona Cathedral. It's a great choice for those who want to be in the heart of the city's historic center. The hotel has a stylish and modern design, and a rooftop pool with stunning views of the city.

Hotel H10 Casa Mimosa This boutique hotel is located in the Eixample district, close to many of Barcelona's most popular tourist attractions. It's a great choice for those who want to be in the heart of the action, but still enjoy a luxurious and relaxing stay.

Hotel Claris Barcelona This elegant hotel is located in the Eixample district, close to many of Barcelona's most popular tourist attractions. It's a great choice for those who want to be in the heart of the action, but still enjoy a luxurious and relaxing stay.

Whether you're a seasoned traveler or a first-timer, booking your hotel and transportation in advance is essential for a stress-free and enjoyable trip to Barcelona. By securing your accommodations and transportation beforehand, you'll have one less thing to worry about upon arrival, allowing you to fully immerse yourself in the city's vibrant atmosphere and captivating attractions. With a variety of luxurious hotels and reliable airport transfer services at your disposal, Barcelona is ready to welcome you with open arms and provide an unforgettable experience.