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fleckcmscott · 2 months

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Hearth and Home

Summary: During Christmas in Missouri, Arthur learns - and Y/N relearns - how to celebrate with family.

Words: 6,525

Warnings: None

A/N: This little piece is based on a request from @jokerownsmysoul, as well as a continuation of Haunted Heart. Please enjoy this very tardy holiday story! 😂 Thank you to @jokerownsmysoulfor not only making the request, but also beta-ing the first draft. Much appreciation to @sweet-nothings04and @forever-fleck for helping with the intro pic! 💜

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Christmastide hadn't yet crept into Gobler Mall, but it'd slid halfway through the door and propped it open.

A cardboard sleigh advertised Santa's imminent arrival. Kiosks selling Dead Sea Salt body scrubs and smoked cheeses were buried in unopened boxes of merchandise. A man in a green janitor's uniform hung honeycomb snowflakes from the center atrium, his ladder buttressed against the second story's balcony wall.

The anchor store in the east wing had outraced its competitors to win the gold. A twenty-foot tree stood in the center of Hecht's Fineries, plastic branches reaching out to entice customers past cosmetics to a world of sporting goods, toys, and electronics.

Y/N pushed a shopping cart through Today's Woman, the fashion department situated between cookware and shoes. Right on her heels, Arthur browsed with the exuberance of a boy who knew exactly what to write on his Christmas list. Adorable, yes. Contagious and delightful? Certainly. The magic of the season permeated the air whenever he was near.

But if he didn't lose her trail soon, surprising him would be impossible.

They'd brought a small selection of gifts from Gotham. Curry pastes from Siam Market and a Glob's Gourmet Pickles sampler (which had, thankfully, remained intact during their flight). But with limited luggage space, they'd settled on buying most here. A quilted jewelry box appeared a good fit for Ruthie, and with Jason pretending he'd grown out of comic books, they'd chosen a leather baseball glove for him. That left a Mr. Wizard Ecology Kit for Brian and a set of Read-A-Long books on tape for Ashley.

Now they had to settle on what to get Mabel and Ed. And each other.

"I dunno what she likes," Arthur told Y/N, flipping through a circular rack of blouses. Hangers squealed along a metal rod, an atonal chorus. "She dresses more casually than you, but she still looks nice." A one shoulder shrug concluded the observation.

Y/N leaned onto the cart's handle. "A good rule to go by is, if I'd hate it, she'd love it. Wait, that might work." She raised her hand to stop the search. He held out a horizontally striped pullover, black and confident pink illuminated by metallic threads.

A sharp nod answered his knotted brow. "It's definitely her."

As they made their way to the register, a row of mannequin busts caught his gaze. Decked out in festive finery, they wore sweaters thick enough to warm the skinniest soul. He strolled the length of the display, hands clasped at the small of his back, mocha curls brushing his shoulders. He stopped at a crewneck two-thirds of the way down.

Flocked plus signs spanned the shoulders and chest, like a blanket of light snow. Alternating patterns of stars and deer came next, followed by a swathe of rich maroon, the same color as his suit. An odd design, to be sure, but fashionable. The trendiest thing ever to have a chance at moving into Arthur's closet.

When his thin lips pursed, she sidled next to him. Shopping for others didn't mean he couldn't consider himself. "You'd look gorgeous in that," she said.

A smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Really?"

"Really." She reached for it with a seductive slowness. "Should we get it now or wait for Santa?"

On a hitched laugh, he stole it from her fingertips and got in line.

~~~~~

Carrying a tray of Morrison's Cafeteria broiled chicken, yellow rice, and two diet cokes, Mabel zigzagged through grey tables to a four-top on the periphery of the food court, where Y/N guarded Radio Shack and Sears bags with the promise not to peek. Though not much of a splurger, she was surprisingly fun to shop with. Admiring window displays, suggesting gifts for Ed and Arthur. Mabel had needed that quality time, another chance to be Big and Little Sis.

Ever a rocket about to lift off, Ashley bounced on a stack chair beside Y/N. The other three children were in school, busy learning their ABCs. Sun cascaded through skylights, brought out honey blonde streaks in the toddler's hair. Y/N took a blue crayon from a RoseArt three-pack and pointed to a spot on a paper placement, an instruction to make the first move in a tic-tac-toe game. In a fit of giggles, the girl clapped and drew an X over the entire grid.

A mix of joy and pensiveness twisted Mabel's heart.

Fed by losing her mom at twenty-four, she braced against the possibility of not being there. New milestones brought happiness - but they also reminded her she'd be fifty when her youngest was a freshman in high school. Nights of four-hour naps and days filled with play and homework took a lot more out of her than motherhood had a decade ago. There were moments exhaustion seeped so deeply into her bones she could've slept standing up.

Once Ashley was sent to a coin-operated carousel ride a couple yards away, Mabel confided to Y/N. "Don't get me wrong. I'd do anything for them. I just thought they'd all be in school by now." She rolled straw paper between thumb and forefinger. "Mom never seemed to get tired. But chasing Ashley around, I feel like I'm ready for the retirement home."

"She has parents who are older and wiser. Who know when they were too strict with the others and not strict enough. Isn't that a good thing?" Y/N tore a final piece of chicken off the bone and touched her toes to Mabel's. "You want to be mom. But you can't be. No one could. Just be yourself. You've always been more than enough, Able Mabel."

Blinking moisture from her eyes, Mabel dipped her chin. Was it middle-aged that'd mellowed Y/N, made her better at comfort rather than immediate investigation? Or had Arthur nurtured her heart by giving it a place to rest? Whatever the cause, it was a welcome change.

With the success of her second marriage, however, maybe she could solve a little, too.

Mabel pushed abandoned grains of rice with her spoon. "I had been looking forward to having more time with Ed."

"Has he gone back to working around the clock?"

"No, no. He's home for dinner every night. But with school projects and potty training and story hour and baseball practice and scouting... Sometimes I forget what it's like to be a wife." A sip of coke as she checked on Ashley. The girl continued to ride in circles. "You love being a wife," Mabel continued. "What's the longest you and Arthur have gone without...you know."

Y/N dabbed at her mouth with the corner of her napkin. After a moment, she gave a small shrug. "A month or two?"

Mabel's jaw hung open. "That's it?" It'd been nearly six for she and Ed. Their last attempt had been cut short by Ruthie's knock on their bedroom door to ask for water - just as her underwire had been unhooked. They'd left a glass on her nightstand every night thereafter. But the spark continued to elude.

"Our lives are quieter," Y/N said, waving the unspoken comparison away. "And you've been married, what, eighteen years? That's much longer than four. Have you talked about this at all with Ed?"

A resigned sigh heaved out of Mabel. "Whenever I start, something comes up."

"It doesn't have to be a long, drawn-out trial. Maybe you can suggest listening to Dr. Sally. Have you heard of her? She's from Gotham and Arthur swears by her. He says she taught him everything he knows. Well, everything he knew before we..." Crimson colored her cheeks, her lips pressed together in a pensive grin. "I don't know if I should tell you, but- Can you keep a secret?"

Mabel grasped the bottom of her chair and hopped it forward. "I love secrets."

"When he and I met, he hadn't been with a woman before. Not like that, anyway."

Nose wrinkled, Mabel tilted her head, her entire face squinting. No, Arthur wasn't her type. But she knew a good man when she met one. And a good looking man when she saw one. "How is that possible?"

Y/N snorted, loud enough to muffle it with the back of her hand. "That was my reaction. It was a lot of pressure; I don't think Arthur realizes that. But I wanted him and loved him and that won out.

"I asked him once if he felt like he'd missed out on anything, having only been with me. He said no, because he's comfortable with me and knows I care about him. Anyway, he gave Dr. Sally full credit for being wonderful. I'm sure the show is syndicated down here."

The twinkle of romance and true love in her sister's eye left Mabel fully convinced. She picked up a crayon and folded the placemat in half. "I'll call the local radio stations."

~~~~~

Meanwhile, Ed and Arthur rode the escalator to the mall's second story. For Ed, it was the only escalator in the county. For Arthur, it was simply a way to get upstairs.

He trailed his brother-in-law past a soap and scented candle shop, an avalanche of perfume pouring out of the place. A silver engraving shop stood to their left, hawking the likes of picture frames, wedding cake serving sets, and doorknobs. They dodged a group of teenagers who should've been in school to arrive at a glass storefront tucked into the corner.

City Drawers' cursive sign was a thrill in pink neon. Muzak masquerading as jazz sounded through the open entrance. Two mannequins stood in the shop's windows, illuminated by spotlights at their feet. One wore a lace bra and panty set, the other a diaphanous camisole with a cowl neck. A hanging sign announced a sale on Maidenform: Buy one, Get one half off.

Arthur chewed his thumbnail.

Donahue's and L. Ballinger carried styles both he and Y/N liked, without intimidating buckles or oddly placed straps. Specialty shops were expensive. Though he'd happily picture her in every display, going to a boutique bordering on Adults Only made shopping an event he had the wrong ticket to, purchased for a week-old show.

With a casualness Arthur envied, Ed crossed the black tile threshold, stealing Arthur's chance to back away and backtrack to Hecht's.

Forcing out a breath, he shoved his hands in his pockets. Made the decision to get over himself and stepped into the welcoming peach interior.

Low lighting gave the shop an air of intrigue, flattered the stitching, the promised silhouette of each item. A woman and high school student discussed the finer points of choosing a first bra. ("You don't want it to stick out too much under your sweaters." "Mom!") Cheeks on fire, he turned away from the conversation meant for mothers and daughters to see a husband and wife modeling satin robes. A cashier dressed like a consummate professional, as if she belonged in Y/N's office, told a woman in a puffy coat that underwear was returnable only if unopened.

Ed closed in on a Christmas display to the left, where a scantily clad mannequin wore a Mrs. Claus mob hat. He grabbed a Santa red negligee and gave it a once over. "Think Mabel'd like this?" he asked, thrusting it towards Arthur.

One glance at the faux fur trimmed neckline and it was clear Y/N would hate it. "She'd love it."

Relief palpable in his easy smile, Ed nodded his thanks and headed to the Famous Fragrances cabinet at the rear of the shop.

Arthur slinked along the wall, passing feather boas and garter belts. (The black one with pale pink roses on the hips was an omen to follow when they returned to Gotham City.) A man on the hunt for a gift that wouldn't be embarrassing to give his wife in front of her family. In front of her nephews and nieces.

Forgotten on a bottom shelf under dust and elbow length gloves, he found his trophy.

Knee high wool socks, lilac and knit in a pointelle pattern akin to lace. He took the pair in his grasp, ran his fingertips from cuff to toe. Every past piece of thrift store wool had been a scouring pad on his skin. These were smooth, buttery. He could imagine her calves wrapped up in these subtle cousins to stockings, a long-awaited present under the tree.

A lyric came to mind, an old song he'd gone too long without hearing. Humming a few bars, he sang in his head. You're the starch in my collar, you're the lace in my shoe...

Arthur hurried to the register, but turned back at the last second and stuck the garter belt under his arm.

He placed the socks on the counter, indicated them with his chin. "Can you put those in a box? With a ribbon on it?" He slid the garter across the surface and leaned forward. "And could you please wrap this separately?"

~~~~~

Snug in the tub, Y/N's eyelids fell shut as she massaged almond shampoo into her scalp. The circling slowed as she exhaled contentment. After cramming two major holidays and the preparations for a third into a mere nine days, she'd savor this second to relax.

The notion twisted the corner of her mouth, a crescent of irony.

That she'd be able to relax here at all would've been laughable before, when shadows had lurked in every corner and out in the open to confront her with what she'd lost. Arthur's compassion and Mabel's letting the subject of their parents alone now allowed Y/N to cope on her own terms.

The adjoining guestroom wasn't simply her father's former office, where she'd been forced to accept the gravity of Henry's diagnosis. It was also a bedroom where she could rest at the end of the day. The bathroom was more than an old examination room, forest green and warm, where her father had crowned his four-year-old daughter with a head mirror and tested her reflexes. It was a place unwind. To cleanse her skin and her heart. Twin threads of past and present that entwined themselves into a semblance of peace.

Locks rinsed and detangled, she swiped her hair back and reached for her wet-dry electric razor.

A light tap tap rapped at the door.

She'd recognize her husband's Excuse Me knock anywhere. But with a full house, doublechecking was safer. "Who is it?"

"It's Arthur."

At her instant invitation, he slid through the door. He'd donned his maroon sweater - as he had every day since she'd told him he'd look gorgeous in it.

She'd been right.

He tucked a stray curl behind his ear and turned towards the toilet. "Sorry, the other bathroom's busy. I'll be quick." He lifted the cover and seat and unzipped his trousers.

Razor perpendicular to her shin, she started to drag it in a straight line to her knee.

It sputtered like an old engine, gaining and losing speed in an attempt to complete its mission. She hit the bottom with the heel of her hand. Flipped the switch off and back on. A pathetic whirr, which slowed to a worrying grind. Then a final, sad stop.

With a huff, she set it on the tub's corner shelf. "I should've charged this before we left."

He shook himself off, cocked his head her way. "Maybe Mabel has one? I can go check."

"You don't have to bother."

Arthur waved her off, insisted it wasn't one at all. He rinsed his hands and stepped out. Grin tight enough to pinch, she scrubbed at her armpits and breasts. Noted a hair by her aerola she'd have to pluck later. The washcloth slid across her stomach, the feminine swell of her abdomen. A quick dip between her legs.

The door swung ajar. Extending his palm with a flourish, Arthur beamed down at her.

Eyes wide, the entirety of her attention shot to the Pink Daisy Gillette.

She hadn't used a wet razor for five years, had banished them from the apartment as soon as he'd agreed to move in. Since he'd asked her to keep them away from him. Sure, if a matter was important, she was a risk taker. Being stubble free for one extra day didn't make the cut.

Y/N reached to take it from him. A bit too fast. "Thank you."

"Actually, I-" He held the forbidden object in front of his chest, twirled it between anxious fingers. "I'd like to do it."

She drew her feet inward. Concern felt silly, an unwelcome heckler. A true intrusion on their intimacy. But given Arthur's history, it made sense. And Dr. Ludlow had agreed keeping razor blades out of the apartment was a good idea.

As if able to read her thoughts, he winced at the floor, a move that felt too close to shame. He spoke with the wounded dignity of the earnest yet disbelieved. "I've been okay for a long time now."

An ache pressed her sternum, for she did indeed believe him. He'd trusted her two years ago, had taken the good with the very, very bad. Shouldn't she be able to trust him? Refrain from making a normal activity - a loving gesture he'd asked for - a crossroads to crisis?

She pushed the worries from her throat with an ahem. "You're right. I'm sorry."

His handsome visage instantly brightened.

Loosening her legs, she wrung out her washcloth. "You're going to get all wet."

"I'll dry."

"What about your pants?"

"They come off."

It was said without guile, but she chuckled, anyway. She retrieved the soap. Worked up a good lather. Smoothed suds down her left leg.

His teeth pressed his lower lip in an eager grin. Perching on the rim of the tub, he pushed his sleeves to his elbows. Bent to pluck her towel from the floor and cover his lap. A secure hold on her heel as he pulled her into position.

Gently, he laid the blade a centimeter below her knee and drew it towards him. A glance of a touch.

"A little harder," she said. "Leg hair is stubborn."

"I don't wanna hurt you."

"You won't." She lay in the curved end of the tub. "How old were you when you started to shave?"

"Fourteen, I think." A soft, closed-mouth laugh. "One night, when Penny and her boyfriend were gone? I stole his razor and shaving cream. I must've used half the can." Short scrapes at the front of Y/N's ankle. "I pressed so hard to get through all the foam, I got a burn. It hurt so bad. My mother asked what was wrong with my face. I told her I'd been out in the sun too long - in February."

Giggling, Y/N tossed her head back. "I'm sure you were very convincing. Speaking of which: I have to convince Mabel to tone it down for Christmas."

"Isn't that why she invited us down here?"

"Yes, but she's going to cook herself to death." At Thanksgiving, Y/N hadn't been able to see the table for all the food. What with their household being too small for a full spread, she and Arthur stuck to a chicken or a couple of turkey breasts. "She likes to make a big dinner for Christmas Eve and a breakfast buffet in the morning."

The tip of his tongue darted out to wet his lips. "We could make dinner and breakfast."

Y/N gulped against unbidden images floating to the surface. She hadn't cooked a holiday meal here for eight years, and the last had been an exercise in heartbreak. Mashed up food, saliva on cotton, fear pretending to be revulsion on the faces of her family. Benji's Very Own Christmas Story on TV to tide keep her father calm and an entire bottle of Sanatogen to calm herself.

Yet, the idea was lovely, a reflection of her husband's generosity and kindness. Putting her baggage on him would be ungenerous and unkind. And, just maybe, it could be an opportunity she wouldn't have taken on her own.

She studied the ripples in the water. Concentrated on the pressure of his fingertips on her skin. Glides of metal and aloe. "Stroganoff?"

"That's special for us." Arthur squeezed the subtle half-moon of her calf.

Fuzzy fluttering fleeted through her, at the squeeze and the us. They decided on glazed ham, a dish her mother had made every year. Y/N made a mental note to peruse the oldBetter Homes & Gardens cookbook, the checkered one with the side pocket. "We can make garlic mashed potatoes, too. If we double the recipe, it'll be enough for eight." Broccoli and cheese casserole would serve as a second side, of which Arthur would claim all the crispy corners. Stuffing out of three boxes. All that was left was dessert.

He shook the razor in the bathwater. "Gingerbread's good."

"I'll add a can of whipped cream to the grocery list."

Pecking the arch of her foot, he scooted along the tub's rim. Angled her leg so that her thigh rested on his. The razor whispered a line within an inch of her groin. Puffs of her breath skimmed her flesh. Her tendons tightened. Her knee jerked against his touch.

He knelt beside the tub to gather water in his hands. Slipped them down her legs. He rinsed her again, his expression melting into satisfaction. "You're beautiful," he said, palm sliding to her hip. His green gaze dropped to her mouth, his caress now a firm grip.

Then his lips seized hers.

A startled gasp jolted her.

What Arthur had just done was romantic. Wonderful. An act out of a shared fantasy. If they'd been anywhere else, a delicious weight would've warmed her belly. But that old forest green seeped in at the edges of her mind's eye, pulled the thread of past askew. Now that weight felt like a bowling ball.

She broke off the kiss. Embarrassed whispers between bottled breaths. "Arthur, I-" Her fingers curled, a loose fist by his cheek. "I can't. Not here."

Drops fell from his wrist to her sternum. Charted paths to the notch at the base of her throat. Silence weighed down on her, a whole league's worth of bowling balls.

Swallowing, she raised her eyes to meet his.

When they did, understanding softened his brow. His voice was low, soft. A comfort as powerful as present thread. "It's okay." He retreated to sit on his heels and dry his hands, chestnut waves falling to frame his sculpted cheeks. He stood and bent to peck the top of her head. "You better do that other leg yourself." With that, he turned to leave.

She scrambled to sit up. "Arthur?"

Hand on the doorknob, he looked back at her.

"I love you," she said.

Dimples deepening, he bestowed a shy, radiant smile. "I know."

~~~~~

Mabel placed the Santa mug with the candy cane handle on the windowsill to finish trimming the tree. It was situated by the front window, about a yard from the guestroom. Ed and Jason had disappeared to the basement to search for decorations. One of Ruthie's favorite records played, John Denver and the Muppets' A Christmas Together.

Arthur knelt beside Mabel. On the opposite side of the living room, Y/N and the three youngest children worked on paper snowflakes in the play corner. Few words had passed between them, but the quiet was the kind that belonged to old marrieds who were confident in their choice of each other. Irritated, in love, invested. There'd be no running to the watering hole today.

Nevertheless, Mabel sought to gladden the place. Trimming the tree was one of her favorite rituals, right up there with reading The Night Before Christmas and stuffing stockings. There was no way she'd allow grumpiness to gel into gloom.

Digging through a popcorn tin overflowing with ornaments, each wrapped carefully in a sandwich bag, she said, "Don't be surprised if the munchkins are knocking on your door at five tomorrow."

"That's okay. I don't let Y/N sleep in on Christmas." He hung a stained-glass rocking horse on a middle branch of the artificial tree. "You know, she still has the cookie you made her when you were kids. In the toy oven."

"Does she really?"

"She hangs it up every year."

Mabel retrieved another satin bauble, this one from the Keepsake series of ornaments. "Holidays are happy when friends are together" it declared. The phrase brought a pleasant smile to her face and a quickening to her heart.

Y/N's offer to give her a break by preparing Christmas dinner had been a surprise, a true act of affection Mabel had to accept. But when Y/N had said she was going to prepare everything herself, Arthur's brow furrowed into one thick caterpillar. It was an obvious deviation from how this conversation was supposed to go.

Familiar with how hard it was on him to feel shut out, Mabel rescued Arthur from his skepticism with an invitation to make dessert. Dessert wasn't technically a part of dinner and therefore fair game. Though she'd planned on chocolate and pecan pinwheels, they settled on gingerbread cookies and spent the morning rolling dough and downing coffee.

During their third round of cookie cutting, she'd said, "These are perfect. Have you made them before?"

"Penny had a gingerbread recipe on the wall in the kitchen," he'd said. Another drummer boy emerged from the brown dough. "I can't remember making it, but I know I dropped a bag of flour. She smeared it on our faces and told me, 'Every real cook has flour on his cheeks.'"

Mabel's laugh had dissolved into a wistful sigh. From what Y/N had shared, discussions about his childhood were rare and memories that made him smile even rarer. With a sprinkle of flour on both their noses, they'd put the cookie sheet on the middle oven rack and set the timer.

Miss Piggy's shrill plea for five golden rings cut through the recollection. Eyelid twitching, Mabel straightened the hanger of a Baby's First Christmas ceramic bootie and called to her sister. "Remember when we were kids, and we'd sing along to the radio?"

With a nod, Y/N folded white construction paper into a triangle. "And at the Silver Spur." She sang softly, a relief from the record's caterwauling. "Country road, take me home to the place I belong-"

"Gotham City," Mabel joined in. "Jersey highway."

The twitch teasing Arthur's chin defied the set of his jaw.

"When you put it like that, you almost make it sound romantic," Y/N said.

Just then, Ed thudded into the room, lugging a box of plastic garland. Haphazard leaves and berries sprouted from the cardboard box. Nose buried in an LCD hockey game, Jason followed close behind. Ed asked, "Hey, do you do any Christmas standup shows?"

"One or two at the usual clubs." Arthur stood to toss handfuls of Brite Star tinsel at the tree. "How did the wife get her husband to go to the office party?"

"Jason, put that away and help me with this." Ed plunked the box to the carpet with a groan. "I don't know. How?"

"By telling him, 'yule love it.'" An elongated u for pun's sake.

Stifling a giggle, Mabel shook her head. His jokes hadn't gotten much better, but his ability to make her smile won her over.

"And it always works."Y/N extricated herself from scraps of paper, then checked her watch. "I better start dinner," she said, and excused herself from the room.

In her peripheral vision, Mabel caught Arthur's rapid blink. His posture threatened to deflate like an old tire. "I thought she was doing better this time," he mumbled.

"She is, Arthur. She is." In the manner of a mother assigning a sullen son the most important task - as her own mother had done for her after Y/N had moved out - Mabel patted his shoulder. "If you could find the tree topper, that'd be a big help."

~~~~~

Arms folded across his chest, Arthur braced himself on the doorframe, careful to keep his toes on the foyer side of the floor's transition strip and off the kitchen linoleum.

The side of Y/N's hand smoothed a crimson tablecloth over the oblong dining table. She laid a plastic wreath in the middle, completed the centerpiece with three ivory candles inside the ring. She retrieved eight quilted placemats featuring Christmas geese from the drawer to the left of the stove and pulled cloth napkins from the cupboard to the right. She knew where everything was without asking. As if she'd left here yesterday.

When he'd suggested making dinner, bumming around while Y/N roleplayed 1978 wasn't what he'd had in mind. Standing by like an extra as she measured brown sugar and honey. Loitering while she shoved broccoli in Corning Ware and sprinkled it with cheese.

Given that it didn't quite fit her bustline, the velveteen, emerald halter dress she wore must've been borrowed from Mabel. Y/N's hair was feathered in the usual manner, but with extra body that meant she'd used mousse and a curling iron. Earth tone makeup highlighted her natural prettiness, save for the red stain on her lips. Poinsettias dangled from her ears, a Beauty Boutique original.

She opened a panel cabinet over the sink, then grabbed a stepstool to peek inside. Kitten-heeled foot extended behind her, she retrieved a stack of plates. Her shoe threatened to fall to the floor. When she teetered, he offered to steady her. But she declined. Descended backwards step by step. Put the plates on the counter with a soft but unwavering "I've got it."

His cheek ached from gnawing. Out of respect for her, he hadn't argued in front of her sister. But doing this as a couple - as a family - had been what he'd craved.

So he slid across the linoleum to inspect the plates. Trace his thumb over the cheery holly motif along the edges.

She whisked the dishes away. "I'll light the candles when the food is done," she said, a hitch in her voice she failed to hide.

He half-turned to her. Noted the upward draw of her shoulders, elbows tight at her sides. She set matching tumblers at the two o'clock positions by each plate. He longed to fold the cloth napkins. He longed to take out the cutlery.

He longed to pry.

Lips pressed to a sore line, he recalled their fight when he'd cornered her in the shower, one of the worst arguments they'd ever had. He was loathe to follow that road again. Instead, he grabbed a cooking spoon, stirred the mashed potatoes, and searched for compromise.

Before he could err, she crossed to stand two feet from him. Leaning back against the counter, she gripped the Formica edge with both hands. Her fingers went white.

"When I lived here," she started. "I did all the Christmas decorating and cooking. I loved it. It was a day I could pretend my life was normal, just for an hour or two. Mabel and Ed would bring the kids. We'd drink cocoa and open gifts and have a little fun. Except that last year."

Arthur's stirring slowed, every fiber waiting with want for all of it. All of her.

"I wanted to keep my spirit up or touch my dad in some way." A familiar, familial word she never used. It was always father. "But the harder I tried, the worse it was. He wouldn't eat and wouldn't stop crying. When I washed him, he tried to push me away, but he was too weak - his arms were matchsticks. He must've been scared - he wasn't really with it by then. And he scared Mabel and the kids and..."

Lashing fluttering, she sucked her teeth. "The man who'd nurtured me, who'd loved me, wasn't there anymore. He was possessed by a stranger I didn't want to know. And being here - having to stay in this house - was like trying to live inside a ghost."

In spite of the watery tenor of her voice, she offered Arthur a tremulous smile. "Tonight it doesn't feel so haunted."

An anxious dam gave way, crumbling to flood love through his frame. He understood, then. Doing all this by herself standing here alone, was a ritual to exorcise her past. He reached for her wrist, pulled her to his side with one arm. When she put her head on his shoulder, he dropped the cooking spoon into the goopy mass.

Her palms pressed his back. "I'm happy to be able to share this part of me now."

"Me, too. I mean, I'm happy you shared it with me, too." He buried his face in her hair, let out a huff equal parts support and relief. "I want you to share everything."

Seconds of silence before her lips made a smacking sound on her teeth, and he knew she was grinning.

Ever the woman to push down her feelings a tad too quickly (except for love; thank whatever was listening there was always love), she stepped out his arms, wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. The crockpot let out an air raid warning of a beep.

She took a box of matches from the corner of the windowsill above the sink and pressed it into his palm. Offered a luminous look and invited him into her past. "You light the candles and I'll serve."

~~~~~

Blue wrapping paper with silver bells and holly. Little bears wishing little ones Merry Christmas on pine green. Gold and red foil interweaving in an intricate scroll. The four-by-four space under the tree contained enough color and excitement to fill a North Pole workshop.

Hair tugged into a haphazard ponytail and replete in fuzzy slippers, Mabel dropped onto a chair next to Ed and attempted to squint away her dull headache. The adults had stayed up until 1:00 AM last night, wrapping boxes, drinking cocoa, and carrying on. After dinner, Arthur had nibbled at the gingerbread cookies until he'd had to take two Tums - then surprised everyone by claiming the last slice of Thanksgiving's pumpkin pie.

Clad in their lazy morning best, Arthur and Y/N sat hip to hip in front of the tree. She'd yanked on the lavender socks with the enthusiasm of having found a long-lost treasure. He munched on the macadamia nuts Mabel had thought would make a lame gift, but Y/N had insisted he'd love. The cowhide wallet she'd given him lay open on his lap, the card slot's gold leaf letters reading "A + S" followed by a heart on display. Cheesy. Seemingly out of character for Big Sis. But she glowed whenever she talked about him. She'd gotten starry eyed about Jeff but never glowed.

Once she'd unwrapped Mabel's present to her, she held it in both hands but hesitated to open it. The photo album risked melancholy, but Mabel hoped Y/N would be able to find joy, too.

"Those are photos of us," Mabel assured her. At that, Y/N lifted the front cover. The first was a black and white featuring four year old Y/N cross-legged on the floor, the new baby in her arms, a big grin on her face. "I took the best pictures from all of mom and dad's photo albums. They start from when we were little and go until our visit last year. And there are blank pages for more."

Hugging the album to her chest, Y/N made a promise. "There'll be more. A lot more."

Ruthie helped Ashley put one of her Wuzzles reading cassettes in her Fisher Price tape player, while Ashley patted Ruthie's jewelry box's quilted surface as if it were a cat. Jason let Brian try out his new baseball mitt, and Brian put his feet on the coffee table and flipped through his Experiments in Ecology book.

Ed's morning breath stank of garlic from gourmet pickles. Already wearing his new Casio calculator watch, he flipped through the manual of the AT&T cordless phone, a gift Mabel hoped meant Y/N wanted more phone calls. The Thai script on the curry pastes was something Mabel had never seen before, but Y/N promised that if she could cook with them, anyone could figure it out. ("Just add vegetables and chicken and you're good.")

When Mabel unwrapped the present from her hubby, she recognized the logo as soon as she glimpsed the outline of a petal. She'd kept the box shut. Warmth enveloped her. He'd made her feel beautiful again, in that special way she'd reminisced. In the way that belonged to them.

No matter what she'd confided in the mall, the moments she struggled were worth it. Still there, still hard. But she'd do her best to follow her sister's advice. Make sure to enjoy herself as a mother, a wife, and herself.

And Dr. Sally would remain on-call.

Mabel called Ruthie to her side and spoke in her ear. Loud enough for all to hear but quiet enough to make the girl feel special. "Can you and your brothers set the table?"

Ruthie nodded and skipped her way to the foyer. When the boys remained glued to the sofa, Ed rose with a Come On, Sons gesture. Arthur plucked a candy cane from tree, then plucked Ashley from the carpet and carried her to the kitchen.

Mabel grabbed a purple bow from the carpet, winced as she straightened, a barbel rolling from her forehead to her neck. "The next time you suggest spiking a drink, remind me to say no."

Anchoring herself on the coffee table, Y/N moved to stand. "I'll put on an extra pot of coffee." She gathered strewn wrapping paper and ribbon and crumpled them into a ball. "Make sure you take it easy when Thanksgiving and Christmas roll around."

"Ed's parents are hosting," Mabel said, and waved off her concern. With his sister stuck in Michigan this year, it'd be a smaller gathering. With his big brother around, Ed would regress to being the youngest as soon as he smelled a pie in the oven.

Arms overflowing, they padded towards the kitchen. But they lingered halfway there to bask in the magic of Not Quite Christmas.

Ed worked around the kids, handing them plates, directing where to put them. Arthur retrieved a mixing bowl and frying pan in preparation for cinnamon French Toast, a tradition he'd brought from the Fleck household. While Ed searched the cupboards, Arthur crouched beside Ashley, who laughed at her uncle between rounds of peek-a-boo.

"You made this visit beautiful, Mabel. Mom would be proud of you." Y/N freed up an arm and hugged her at the waist. Spoke the words Mabel had longed to hear for the better part of a decade. The words that made the wheels of self-forgiveness run ten times faster. "After all these years, I think we both found what we've been looking for."

Elated, Mabel dropped the paper to the floor. "I know I have." She seized Y/N about the middle, hard enough to lift her to her toes. "I know we have."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @ithinkimaperson @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @another-day-in-chuckletown @hhandley80 @jokerownsmysoul @rafaelbottom @ralugraphics @iartsometimes @fleckficgirl

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur fleck x ofc #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

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c1tyhaunts · 6 months

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CHARACTER TROPES. Lilah Lyons

Age-Gap Romance: Played with and deconstructed in her whirlwind romance with Nick Virago. Their introduction was like the start of an enemies-to-lovers romance novel, with this older, established man wanting to woo an ambitious young woman trying to get out of town. However, after Nick's reveal of his demonic nature and more of his possessive and controlling behaviors slowly come to light. Their relationship becomes an exploration of unhealthy love & power dynamics.

Brainy Brunette: Lilah is a well-read academic who often quotes herself to be a "romantic"; both in the artistic sense and in a relationship sense. Catch her in a passionate rant about books, and she may even quote a Shakespearean line unprompted.

Broken Bird: Played painfully straight; after the death of her father when she was 18, this young girl found herself to be the victim of not one emotionally abusive relationship, but TWO emotionally manipulative relationships that attempted to play onto the gentler sides of her heart. Then having to leave her home with nothing in tow and having to build herself back up again? The girl has baggage.

Brooding Boy, Gentle Girl: Her relationships with Joaquin & Nick played like this; both men are stick-in-the-mud Earth signs who wear the "no fun allowed" sign. This can be seen as a deconstruction, however, given both of these brooding men are not good people at all, and want to own her rather than trade emotional support.

Daddy's Girl: When he was alive, Lionel was Lilah's best friend. She takes a lot of her father's advice to heart even after death. It's her great relationship with her father that helped her to realize her relationships weren't the healthiest.

Endearingly Dorky/Nerds Are Sexy: Her true personality; Lilah only plays the cool/fun girl persona as a shield to avoid getting hurt and to appease other's expectations of her. Getting close to her reveals her more rebellious, passionate, booky side that appeals more to her core than the "good girl."

Girly Girl with a Tomboy Streak: Visually, she's like a model; she dresses in the trendiest clothes, her skin is absolutely clear, her dark, copper-like hair swoops in all the right places, AND she has the mouth of a sailor. Despite Lilah's attempts to look like the untouchable good girl, she has a bit of a rebellious, messy streak behind her. Drinking, smoking, and breaking a few laws for fun? Sounds about Lilah.

Hair-Trigger Temper: Downplayed, but it is very, very easy to get under her skin; it's part of her impulsive nature.

Hidden Depths: The main purpose of her character; a focus on the girl that "everyone loves" and how the external interpretations affect her internal perception. Lilah has layers beneath the personas & the people pleasing, but it takes time to go deeper.

I Did What I Had to Do: Lilah's ultimate justification after she pushes Virago off the cliff. :)

In Love with Love: Her central character motivation, but also her fear. As a romantic by nature, she desires something more - a feeling beyond herself. But because her initial attempts have been met with varying results, Lilah finds herself stilted in her question for a love deeper than herself.

Love Triangle: Her dynamic with Nick Virago & Joaquin where she is in the middle of it. Ultimately ended with Lilah pushing Virago off a cliff and Lilah permanently ending things with Joaquin by admitting she never loved him as deeply as he did. Clearly, two different results.

Manic Pixie Dream Girl: A Deconstruction of the trope; to Virago & Joaquin, Lilah is supposed to play that said role, but she grows to destroy the mold they wanted to form her in.

Self-Harm: An interesting example that does become averted when Lilah leaves Potters; during her time there, she wakes up at 4am to participate in a nearly two-hour self-care ritual to make herself the girl of everyone's dreams. That does not help her psyche.

Stepford Smiler: The depressed type; on the surface, Lilah seems to have everything in the palm of her hand. Everyone's attention seems to be on her at all times. And that's part of the problem. Lilah feels forced to act like the perfect girl, despite how much it hurts her.

Wrong Guy First: Played straight TWICE; Joaquin seemed like a good choice until he grew insecure. And then after she breaks up with Joaquin, Lilah finds herself in the arms of a DEMON. The girl can't catch a break.

#▶⌜ch. lilah eve lyons⌟#▶⌜lilah lyons. lore⌟#This one was fun. I really enjoyed doing this #now to do Avian's last ahhh <3

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coconutmr · 1 year

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Let's Have a Perfect Toast to Your Reunion Party with Mr. Coconut

Loathe it or love it, high school is the most defining time in the lives of several individuals. Social media have made it easier for people to stay connected with their old crew; however, there is nothing like getting together in person and discussing the good old days. At Mr.Coconut, we understand your need and planned a perfect way to plan for your next high school reunion based on coconut events which would go down most sweetly into your memory lane! You should begin by setting the tone with the trendiest coconut printing reunion invitations while you follow the tips we have shared today to have a blast at this reunion party!

Get Organized Sooner with Mr. Coconut!

Narrow the list of people who would love to help plan this reunion. Ensure you select people with a robust sense of organizing and following through.

If you plan a committee, they are not organized, while your event is not organized decently. Place them into charge to create a robust plan which would lead to you having a successful party.

Plan for a budget and follow it.

Try sticking with your budget sooner. In this planning committee for a reunion, elect the one who would become the treasurer. The person offers the best amount of money. They should always be good at saying no. One of the initial things one would love to include in the budget is the venue. Every guest should have a comfort zone at the reunion when you plan coconut events with us, so it is important to pick the locations that best-fits your guests with greater comfort. If you require cheaper venue ideas, you can try holding the party in a part, a business place of a family or friend, and at home. These are the venue ideas for you that will help you save money on it.

Track down your classmates.

It is almost over the past 10, 20, 30, or even 40 years, which might lead you to lose track of the numerous classmates. You should reach out to your Alma through the list of the graduating seniors from the year of your graduation, as you are sure of not missing out on anyone. You should then start tracking down the people present on social media and even your phone book. Try maintaining the list of students who are not found yet. It is always a great idea to start a Facebook group to help with your reunion, allowing you to offer the best updates you have. You can even create a Facebook group poll by asking about the best dates that suit all. You can use the responses to the poll by picking out the date that would work for all.

Plan some meaningful activities at a party with Mr. Coconut

You should think about what is happening here and the things you would enjoy. Icebreakers are the ideal way to relieve the anxieties linked with spending time with individuals you did not notice in years. Ensure to tailor your activities based on the age group of people at the reunion parties.

The best takeaway at reunion parties

Try making this that people would use or aim to keep for your future references, whether it is the memory book or a family craft. Photos would do the ideal favor for this reunion as you try to rent out the photo booth to meet these celebrations or set up your custom photo booth with a coconut water stall. The guests would love this arrangement and start creating the best memories with the family members and friends they have not met or seen in years.

Read More About it

#coconut printing #coconut events #coconut water drinks #coconut water stall #carved coconut #personalized coconut #stamp coconuts

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yourspexsblog · 1 year

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Where To Buy Sunglasses That Are Trendy & Affordable?

You can now book an appointment for a trial at the home of sunglasses at eyewear websites. They would schedule your appointment with a technician or salesperson who would then, personally bring home your requested designs and styles of sunglasses to choose from.

#eyewear

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battyaboutbooksreviews · 1 year

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🦇 Just My Type Book Review 🦇

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐

❝When I decided to relocate and settle in one place, I didn't even have to think about where to go. I'm the spinning needle of a compass and you've always been my true north.❞

❓ #QOTD Would you give an ex a second chance? ❓

🦇 Synopsis: Lana Parker is a serial monogamist. After a life-altering breakup with her high school sweetheart, she's moved from one relationship to the next, preferring the comfort of being in a relationship over being alone. Despite her bad relationship history, she's the dating and relationships columnist for one of Los Angeles' trendiest lifestyle websites. Desperate to break her bad streak and finally write the entertainment column of her dreams, Lana accepts a friendly competition against the high school sweetheart who broke her heart. Lana is tasked with remaining single, while Seth is tasked with settling down and finding "the one." Both assign the other challenges in an attempt to win their own column, not realizing there's so much more than bad history and animosity between them.

💜 Lana Parker is a beautifully realistic, relatable character brimming with nerdy passions, doubts, and quirky faults. The more we learn about the past, the easier it is to understand her present, demonstrating the power of good character development. The pull quotes from Lana and Seth's articles at the beginning of each chapter give us additional insight into their feelings, though I wish we had a few flashbacks to really dive into their history. The writing is clear, quirky, and witty, making it easy to move from one page to the next. I do wish this was a switching POV novel, though, because seeing Seth's POV would have really given this book the added layer it needs. Lana's journey is perhaps the most powerful portion of the entire book. Her growth makes this far more than a simple love story.

🦇 Falon Ballard does a wonderful job of delving into the psyche of her characters. Lana's overall development is beautifully raw and real. Even Lana's relationship with her mother experiences realistic growth; while not fixed entirely, Lana takes the first step at voicing her feelings and understanding her mother's point of view. As someone who would struggle with a similar conversation, it was breathtaking to read, however brief. The history between Lana and Seth is felt from the instant he walks into the room, but it's a relationship with LAYERS, making it all the more believable and relatable. Even when the reason for their breakup is revealed, there's more. Lana finally views the situation from his point of view, understanding it on a level that brings her the closure she needs. My only problem was the cast of secondary characters, who aren't unique enough to easily differentiate. The current chemistry between Lana and Seth needed a little more attention as well; while all their chemistry comes from their shared history, it's not enough to feel the pining or angst they're both experiencing in the present.

💜 If you love romcoms, nerdy references, and swoon-worthy tension, this is the book for you!

💌 Second Chance 💌 Workplace Romance 💌 Forced Proximity 💌 Enemies to Lovers 💌 High School Sweethearts 💌 Self Love/Healing

🦇 Major thanks to the author and publisher for providing an ARC of this book via Netgalley. 🥰 This does not affect my opinion regarding the book.

#arc book review #book review #booklr #bookstagram #currently reading #books and reading #falon ballard #just my type #battyaboutbooks #batty about books

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bestiesicecream · 2 years

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How To Book Ice Cream Trucks For Birthday Parties

Everyone enjoys a good party, but throwing one successfully requires some preparation. It is ideal to hire an ice cream truck to cater the event if you want to organize a party that everyone will be talking about for a long time. All you want to do on a hot summer day is jump into the closest pool and eat a large dish of delicious ice cream. The pavement is heating under your feet, and sweat is soaking your clothes. When you hire an ice cream truck for a party, you can give your guests a sense of satisfaction.

However, the question here is, how can you book ice cream trucks for parties? Do not worry if you are clueless, as, in this blog, we will make you near and dear to the tips to rent out an ice cream truck.

How Can You Book An Ice Cream Truck For Party?

If you're looking to rent the hippest ice cream truck in town, we've got you covered. You may rent ice cream truck for birthday party from a variety of businesses, so be sure to search around to get the best rate.

Here are three cues to assist you in choosing the ideal one for your upcoming occasion. For all the information, keep reading!

The 3 Best Ice Cream Hire Tips

Do Some Research And Make Sure Your Ice Cream Truck Is Street Legal

Anyone who has ever had a suspicious ice cream truck legislation-related email appears in their inbox understands the value of completing your homework before entering the realm of on-the-go ice cream sales. For those who are unaware, ice cream trucks must abide by specific legal requirements to prevent being prohibited from operating by the government. Making sure your ice cream truck is street legal is the first step. This entails ensuring that it complies with all necessary safety and health regulations.

Consider which flavors you want to serve once you've done your homework, and ensure that your ice cream truck is street legal.

Ascertain That Your Ice Cream Truck Is Fully Stocked With Any Flavors That Your Customers May Desire

The last thing you want to happen while throwing a party is to run out of ice cream. Choose an ice cream truck rental that comes fully equipped with all the flavors your guests might enjoy because of this.

For those who want to change it up, make sure to grab a selection of toppings and syrups to keep things interesting. In addition, flavors shall range from traditional vanilla to fan-favorite chocolate. Therefore, pick the best ice cream trucks for parties in town, whether you're throwing a birthday party, celebrating a graduation, or just seeking a summer treat! Moreover, toppings should be readily available so consumers may personalize their ice cream any way they wish.

No One Wants To Eat Ice Cream From A Dirty Truck! Choose The Ice Cream Truck That Is Clean Inside And Out!

Make sure the ice cream truck is spotless both inside and out if you want to rent the trendiest one in town.

Looking for a clean ice cream truck is essential since nobody wants to consume ice cream from a dirty truck. You have two options for cleaning the inside of your chosen ice cream truck: either hire a pro or do it yourself.

In either case, ensure your ice cream truck's inside is pristine before you start giving ice cream to customers. Further, your chosen ice cream truck's exterior must be as spotless as its interior. Ask the hired person to keep their truck clean and clear of debris.

You can feed your guests with the most pleasing experience by hiring a clean ice cream truck for birthday party. It will make them praise your party a lot more.

Bottom Line

Yes, we know incorporating these tips might be a daunting process. This is why we are here to familiarize you with the brand that'll help you make your guests happy effortlessly. The brand is "Besties Ice Cream." They have more than 150 flavors in their kitty. But, they will serve your guests six flavors of your choice.

Along with six flavors, they can serve you dairy-free ice cream only if you ask them. So, why wait? Get in touch with them and make your guest eat the best waffle cone ice cream.

#wafflecone #icecream #desserts #icecreamtruck

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mrsgiovanna · 3 years

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Bucci Gang first date headcanons

Just imagining how great dates with gang-stars would be 🥺💭❤️

Bruno Bucciarati

He’s confident when he asks you out, he’s someone who knows what he wants, and isn’t afraid to go after it.

He’s definitely the most elegant and suave member of the group. He’d plan to wine and dine you at a fancy restaurant, in a secluded corner reserved just for you both.

Would send you your favorite flowers on the morning of the date with a note saying that he can’t wait to see you.

Greets you with a kiss to your hand.

Bruno let’s you lead the conversation, he finds it adorable to watch you animatedly speaking about your passions.

He’s naturally protective and has a mature air about him, so expect that to show when you’re out. He wouldn’t be averse to chaste displays of affection if you attract the wrong kind of attention.

Walks you to your door hand in hand, makes sure you’re safe before going home himself.

He would call you the next day to make sure you’re okay and keep the momentum going, by this time, you can’t wait to see him again.

Giorno Giovanna

He will be slightly nervous when he approaches you because these things are new for him, but will put on his bravest face. The only indications that he’s nervous would be him smoothing out his clothes, and fixing his hair slightly more than usual.

Quiet and observant, Giorno would have everything planned to a T. He would spare no expenses for you, and would either take you a private performance of your favorite production and then dinner there after at an exclusive restaurant, booked out entirely for you, or a botanical garden picnic under the stars.

He would arrive at your place to pick you up slightly earlier, which would give him a chance to observe you in your natural surroundings.

Is more likely to gift you single flowers which he crafted with GE rather than a huge bouquet.

He would definitely make you a flower crown, and comment on how lovely you look while wearing it.

Conversation flows easily once he’s relaxed, appreciates you wanting to hear about his aspirations and revels in how your eyes light up when you talk about your dreams.

He is just as chivalrous as Bruno is and will also offer you his arm to hold on to, albeit slightly awkwardly. Please be patient with him.

Will also walk you to your door and make sure you’re safe before going home. Will have a guard linger around for a few moments after he leaves to make sure there isn’t anyone timing your movements.

He would send you a short, sweet goodnight message, thanking you for your lovely company.

Leone Abbacchio

Despite his aloof exterior, he’s quite caring towards the people he likes. Abbacchio would most likely deny his feelings for you in the beginning not wanting involve you in his life. When he does eventually ask you out, it’s so awkward it’s cute.

He’s a man that appreciates culture so he would take you out to places steeped in culture, perhaps even go winetasting.

Would also be the type to gift you a single flower and would awkwardly compliment you when he comes to pick you up.

He is observant of you and cares about whether you’re comfortable and enjoying yourself.

He would be more on the quiet side but would get more comfortable as the date went on.

He is quite cautious when you both are out, he knows about the lurking dangers and has been dealt a difficult hand in life, so please bare with his protectiveness.

He will call you the next day, it would give him a chance to figure out what to say to you and wouldn’t put any pressure on you.

Guido Mista

He’s confident, carefree and outspoken, would try his luck asking you out on more than one occasion. Mista’s Outlook on life is simple, and he aims to do things that are fun.

He would want to show you a good time, so he would probably take you to one of the trendiest night spots in Naples.

He’d want to show you off so dress to kill, he would be mesmerized by how stunning you look and would constantly tell you so.

He’s definitely a conversation starter and you would not get bored of all the outlandish scenarios he thinks up to ask you about.

Will shamelessly flirt with you to see you blush.

He is overall a fun, flirty date that would have you laughing all night.

He would text you the next day, giving you some time to miss his antics for a bit.

Narancia Ghirga

The live wire of the group, he’d be slightly nervous but would ultimately bite the bullet and just ask you out.

He would want to go somewhere fun, where he can show off a bit so expect carnival, or game dates.

He would compliment you on how pretty you look, and how soft your hands are.

Would buy you all the tasty junk food and candy floss to share with you as you walk around hand in hand.

He would want to play all the games and win you all the huge stuffed animals, and will resort to cheating with Aerosmith to win you the biggest prize.

Will have Aerosmith out when taking you home just to make sure you’re both safe.

Will have a text conversation with you as soon as he gets home, as he’s still on a high from both the sugar and how much of fun you both had.

Pannacotta Fugo

He would be anxious before approaching you, but his friendly nature would make it a bit easier for him.

He would like to take you to an art gallery or museum in order to show off his knowledge a bit, and then go to dinner there after.

He’d bring you flowers or candy or both when he comes to fetch you.

He’s fiercely intelligent and very well read so conversation would flow effortlessly.

He’s naturally caring and would always make sure that you are doing okay and are having a good time.

He can be quick to anger, but he wouldn’t direct that towards you. He just wouldn’t want any odd looks to come your way for any reason whatsoever.

He would protectively hold your hand, enjoying the feeling of your soft skin in his hand.

He’s the type to send you a quick goodnight message, wishing you sweet dreams and thanking you for the wonderful night.

Bonus: Trish Una

Beautiful, quietly confident, Trish doesn’t have any problems with approaching you.

She loves the finer things in life, beautiful things, so she would like to go to a trendy place that usually has a waiting list to get into.

Would like to match outfits with you, but compliments your style regardless, she can appreciate beauty in all its forms.

She wouldn’t be clingy, but would hold your hand if you’re comfortable, she’s attentive so she wouldn’t do anything to make you feel uncomfortable.

Conversations flow freely with her, which is something that you will enjoy.

She would wait until the next day to text you, giving you your space.

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jae-daddy · 4 years

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Duff

Jaebum AU Series

two / three

pairing: jaebum x reader genre: angst, smut, cheating plot: you are the duff, and guys use you to get close to your bestfriend, turns out jaebum was no exception. but as time goes on the tension between you and your bestfriend’s unoffical boyfriend grows a/n: hi, i know i have ongoing works, but i just couldn’t not do this. i love it! i would’ve died with i were the y/n. I hope yall enjoy it <3 not edited

So, once again, this was how you were going to spend your birthday. In the trendiest club in downtown, having shots after shots, and living your best life.

You had hoped that at twenty-three your life would have settled a bit, had more routine but that was impossible. There was no way you could obtain that lifestyle as long as your crazy red-haired friend kept dragging you out every week to go to a club and ‘live a little.’

You didn’t mind though. You welcomed the dim lights, the drinks and the atmosphere of the clubs. You liked dressing up and escaping from your boring student-and-internship juggling life, and just being able to let go. This was your one escape, and the redhead grinding against that cute dimpled boy who had been talking to you five mintues ago was your saving grace.

Your eyes scanned the club feeling slightly bored now that you were standing alone at your table. Your eyes momentarily stopped at Heather and the dimple-boy as their dance-sesh intensified.

Your eyes widened as they progressed to only a few moments away from straight-up banging on the dance floor, and casted your attention away instantly.

The other girls who would sometimes accompany the two of you would always ask you if you felt bad about Heather stealing all the boys from you. It wasn’t Heather getting all the attention that really made you feel bad. Even you agreed that Heather was a straight-up knockout and anyone, even you, would pick her over every other girl in the club. No, it wasn’t that. It was more of them asking that question that made you feel uncomfortable.

You knew you were the DUFF. The book was painful to read because of how much you could relate to the main character, but you never let it bother you. Heather was her own person and you were yours. You weren’t anyones duff, and Heather never saw you as one. So what others saw was on them, and not your problem.

Heather caught your eyes, and the smile on her red lips grew wider as she giggled. You did a little jiggle from where you stood to encourage her making her scream happy birthday for the twentyth time before she became grinding against the boy harder.

You sighed, smiling, as you sipped on your fruity cocktail. You made a mental note to get a stonger drink next round because you wanted to get absolutely hammered tonight.

“Happy birthday,” a smooth voice said from behind you. You turned in your heels to find the most goregous man you had ever seen standing in front of you.

Your face must have been showing you awestruckness because the stranger’s smirk widened, as he walked closer towards you. He leant against the table, and you almost lost your mind.

Even in a club filled with a hundred differrent perfumes and sweaty body, this man’s smell stood out. And he smelt heavenly.

You wanted to spend forever with him, and have that delicious smell surround you every single moment for the rest of your life.

His midnight dark hair was styled back revealing a beautiful forehead, and a piercing on his eyebrow. His black eyes glistened in the dim room, as he took you in slowly.

You felt underprepared. If you knew he was going to be here you would’ve worn your best dress, and done your hair better.

But it didn’t seem like he minded. He actually liked what he saw.

His pink tongue darted out from his soft lips, and gently flicked the lip ring on the corner of his mouth.

You wanted to kiss him.

You wanted to kiss him and feel the cool metal against your lips. You wanted to bite on his lips, and mess his perfectly set hair. You wanted to kiss his long smooth neck, and go down, go much much further down, and feel him at the back of your throat.

“It’s your birthday, right?” He asked, cocking his head to the side with another breath-taking smile.

Oh lord, the things I will do to this man. You internally groaned, as you felt your tummy flip.

“Yes it is, thank you,” you smiled back, keeping your cool despite your sinful thoughts.

“What’s the birthday girl doing here all by herself?”

Fuck.

Everything he said. Every word he spoke pulled your in closer. You wanted to feel him against you, you wanted him to do things to you that had you screaming his name.

“I’m waiting,” you smiled suggestively. You were sure the hunger that swam in your eyes reflected in his.

You kept looking into his eyes.

Even though everything in your body told you to look away, you didn’t. You held his stare; your core tightening. You finally added, breathless in a matter of seconds. “I’m here with a friend.”

You pointed to the dance floor, but he didn’t follow your gesture. His eyes remained on you, focused only on you.

“Are you leaving with your friend?” He asked taking a step closer. You lifted your head slightly to keep your eyes on his. Your chest heaved deeply, as your heart skipped a beat.

“That depends,” you smirked, before biting your lips. His eyes fell to your lips, and you saw his eyes darken. He took in a step closer to you, almost leaning over you know. You leaned back against the railng, but he kept on moving forward pressing you against it.

“I hope not,” his dark eyes searched yours before falling to your lips once again. You closed your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you.

This was not like you.

You hooked up with people, but it took some time to get to that stage. At least you knew their name. You didn’t know anything about the gorgeous man in front of you. You didn’t know his name, his age, what he did, if he liked this club. But here you were, pressed against the railings seperating the dance floor to the sittings and the stranger’s hard musclar hot body.

“Hey guys!”

He moved away from you and you instantly felt cold.

Heather.

“Hey,” you replied curtly, before clearing your throat and straightening yourself. You saw the stranger flick his lip ring before running a hand through his soft looking hair.

“What’s the birthday girl doing?” She giggled finishing her drink before turning to the guy next to you. She pouted as she flipped the drink upside down. “Oh, my drinks finished.”

You picked up the fruity bullshit you were drinking and downed in one go, before grabbing Heather’s glass.

You needed a new drink; something much stronger preferably.

“Do you want anything?” You peered up at the stranger who was looking at Heather. He shook his head, and you began walking away.

But before you were completely out of range, you heard Heather giggle and then ask, “What’s your name?”

“Jaebum,” his smooth voice spoke. You turned around to look at him to find his eyes already on you. “Im Jaebum.”

Jaebum.

“I’m Heather,” she held out her hand, and you disappeared to the bar.

After fifteen horrible minutes of trying to get the bartenders attention. You had downed one tequila shot, and were walking back with two new drinks.

You steps halted when you reached the table.

Heather was no longer sitting opposite the stranger named Jaebum. She was now beside him and laughing at whatever he was saying.

You placed the drinks on the table, and sat in front of the two. You smiled, your eyes meeting Jaebum’s before you instantly looked away.

“Oh my gosh! You’re the sweetest, y/n!” Heather cooed, as she brought the green liquid to her lips. “I promise to pay you back, I know how much you’re struggling.”

You stared at her pouting face. Your cheeks felt hot as you felt Jaebum’s gaze on you. You refuse to look at him.

“You know Jaebum,” Heather started talking to him. Her hands on his arm, her chest pressed against his bicep. You tore your eyes away, and took a swig of the whiskey as you scanned the dance floor.

Your eyes met a familiar face and you instantly felt relieved. You downed the whole glass before slamming it on the table.

The pair looked at you. They were sitting together so tightly.

“I found Jackson in the crowd,” you told Heather getting up. You finally looked at Jaebum and felt your heart sink.

You were meant to be mine.

“It was nice meeting you, Jaebum.”

As you walked away you thought that would be the last you saw of Jaebum. Because thats how it always was, Heather would just play around for one night and thats it.

But you had the worst luck, and you saw him again.

You saw him all the time, with Heather’s arms around him.

#jaebum #Jaebeom #jaebum fanfic #fanfic #angst #must #smut #jaebum angst #Jaebum smut #duff #jaedaddy #writing #I hope y'all like it #this gif goddamn #fluff #cheating #toxic frienships

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greenygreenland · 4 years

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Operation New Me: Father Figure Wu & Reader

-⛔if you're sensitive, to things like bullying, fist-fighting, mentions of insecurities etc, I don't recommend reading this⛔

-young Morro is in this because I love him

Summary: You're beginning your first day of high school despite being a dropout since like third grade

"Are you ready?" The question was quite innocent and short, yet held a deeper meaning only you seemed to catch. Morro didn't pay any attention to what Wu was saying as you stuffed the last of your supplies in your book bag, and to be honest, you weren't sure if you'd ever be ready for today.

You spent the past week meditating and reading whatever material you could to catch up on what you've missed, but it just wasn't enough--it'd never be enough. How could you even think of cramming seven and up years of knowledge you didn't even understand in a mere month?

"(Y/n)?"

You adjusted your bag around your shoulders and walked through the monastery doors to meet Morro and Wu on the front steps. "Sorry. Let's go." Morro gave you an odd look, sweeping his bangs out of his eyes with a huff. "Don't act so worried. If you can survive Sensei's training, you can survive anything." You snorted and ruffled his black locks. "Being a ninja is a completely different concept than being a student at school. You learn things you don't even use, so it's a waste of time."

Wu shook his head dismissively. "It is not a waste of time. What you will experience there is something even I can not teach."

"Which is?"

"Social skills." he plainly replied with a smile. You zipped up your (f/c) sweater as a chilly breeze passed. The sun had barely risen over the horizon, leaving the moon high in the sky for drifting clouds to cover. "All you know is the monastery," continued Wu, "and life as a ninja. What happens if you are thrown in a situation you cannot 'ninja' your way out of?" You pursed your lips together, which Wu took as an 'I don't know'.

"Exactly, which is why you must get out in the world and learn." he said with a reassuring smile. "You are sharp, so I have no doubt you will be okay."

You continued down the monastery steps in a comfortable silence. It wasn't unnatural for you to be quiet at this time of day, especially since you weren't a morning person. Once you finally descended down every last step, Wu summoned his elemental dragon.

When Morro asked why he didn't do it in the first place, Wu said it was to get a bit of 'exercise in' and to learn a lesson of 'gratefulness'. Boy did the last one stick, because despite practically living at the monastery for more than half your life, rarely had you ever ventured down the steps.

The cool, crisp air against your face, the natural wind in your hair made by nature and not Morro, and the view of the endless skies just made you feel so alive. In the air suspended upon a golden dragon was something you missed. "When was the last time we got around like this?" you shouted over the wind. Morro grinned as brightly as the rising sun. "'We should do this more often Sensei!"

He chuckled a little and gave his reins a good shake. "Hold on!" The dragon flapped his wings and you were suddenly speeding through the skies, cutting passed the cool winds at speeds no man could ever reach.

"SENSEI!" you screeched. He laughed loudly as Morro cackled in your ear. "SCARED, (L/N)?!" he shouted.

"I'M NOT--! SENSEI! OH MY--!"

The dragon steadily slowed, continuing into a descend towards the city below. Wu let out a playful laugh. "That was a lesson on keeping your guard up, no matter how comfortable you may be." You placed your free hand over your pounding heart with a long sigh. "Well that's a lame lesson, Sensei. I saw my life flash before my eyes."

"Did you now?" he inquired with a chuckle. Morro snickered along with him, a look of approval on his smug face. "Sensei," you grumbled, "you're more like Garmadon than you think."

Landing in Ninjago City was like being in a dream. It was bigger than any village you've ever visited, and the buildings, although in construction, remained taller than anything you've ever seen in your life. "Woah..."

Wu smiled, ushering both you and Morro towards the high school. When you set eyes on the building, you had to blink a few times to fully comprehend its size. Windows lined the three stories that seemed to stretch out all the way to the end of the block. As for te cream colour exterior, you thought it blended nicely with the modern-ish touches.

Wu guided you towards the front gates, where dozens of students plowed their way up the stairs and into the front doors. Some lingered on the front lawn to enjoy their breakfasts with friends. "It's a pretty big place, isn't it?" said Wu. Morro snorted and sassily crossed his arms. "That's why we're in a city Sensei." You rolled your eyes and pulled out your schedule.

Your Sensei placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "School is a ground for learning, so don't feel like you have to know everything. Just remember what we leanred together and everything will be fine." You tried to match the smile on his lips, but it just wouldn't happen. Besides almost cutting off one of your fingers with a katana last month, this had to be the scariest thing you've ever done.

"Our paths don't always go in straight lines," added Wu, "so don't feel like you have to have this day perfect." You nodded in understanding. Morro sent you a quick thumbs-up and a 'don't die' face that you snorted at. "Well, I'll see you after...school." You turned on your heel, preparing to march onto the school grounds like any other student.

Describing the school as 'big' and 'modern' was an understatement. It was humungous and actually quite nice to look at. You wished you could say the same, positive things about the students, but they didn't look too welcoming. Not only that, but for the first time in ages, you felt...

...out if place.

You really didn't fit in here with your sweater bearing your sensei's mark on the back and your own on the front. All the other girls here seemed to wear a skirt or dress in navy blue or black and plaid while you chose to wear trousers specifically for martial arts. The boys were no different with their white button ups, sweater vests or plain sweats.

You checked the dress code before hand to make sure you wouldn't embarrass yourself, but even then, here you were, already afraid of making the mistake of wearing the ancient fashion of your Elemental Master ancestors under your (f/c) sweater.

It didn't take a genius to know you were rhe new kid on the first day of school. Everyone else seemed to know each other from middle school or even primary and long before that while you had no one. They loved to gawk at you and side-glance your clothing as if you were some foreigner from a different realm. It was then that you began realising just how disconnected you had been from the trendiest and latest fashion.

"Only paintings wear her clothes."

"Don't tell me she's a villager."

"I bet her dad's a farmer."

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Your clothes were still widely used in not only martial arts, but villages and small towns. You also weren't a villager, and for the record, your father wasn't a farmer when he was alive. He had to be one of the greatest Elemental Masters and just so happened to pass on his element, light, to you.

You were proud of your heritage, but the amount of scorns you kept getting throughout the day kind of made you want to believe you were someone else.

Lunch was slow to come, especially during your algebra one class. When it finally hit you that it was time to eat, you made your way outside to take a seat far away from the students sat at picnic tables in the courtyards or laid flat on top of blankets on the grass. You took refuge from all the drama and scowls under a lone tree.

The music of its swaying leaves helped calm the ache in your heart. It was a reminder of all the lessons you learned throughout your life from your sensei Wu and Garmadon. You had to be patient, kind, calm and--

"Oh I'm so, so sorry." You looked up at the girl who had spilt her soda pop over your head. She and her two friends quietly snickered to each other as you wiped away the sticky mess with your (f/c) handkerchief. A strained smile made its way onto your lips. "It's...fine."

"Here, let me help you." One of the girls kicked at the dirt, sending pieces of fresh grass and pebbles into your face. She let out an evil laugh as her friends joined along. "Sorry, I can't touch you or I'll be infected with your grandma fashion." You wiped the dirt out of your face and jumped to your feet. "I dare you to say that again."

"If I touch you, I'll be infected with your grandma fashion." the girl repeated with a smirk. Perhaps Morro had rubbed off on you, or you had been thinking about your old Sensei Garmadon too much, because before any of the girls could blink, you snatched your lunch out of your bag and flung it at the group of girls.

One of them blindly lunged at you, making a mad grab for your hair and giving it a good tug. You wrapped your hand around her wrist and gripped it tight enough to cease her blood circulation. She let out a cry and let go as you swung around and blocked a punch from her friend.

A crowd began to form as you wrestled with the girls. All of the drama could have been over if you had gone full-out and actually fought back, but the Art of the Silent Fist worked well enough with them. You weren't about to give what your peers wanted: A fist fight.

"What is going on here?"

You dodged a punch to the face and spun around as another girl made a grab for your collar.

"Hey! No! Stop fighting!"

You paused in your footsteps as your History teacher parted through the crowds like the Master of Water, Maya. He suddenly let out a shout and threw out a hand, but you were too late to notice the uppercut to your jaw.

Later that day, you awoke to the one and only face of your Sensei, Wu. As you sat up in bed, he handed you a cup of warm Jasmine tea. "How are you feeling?" You rubbed your sore face and head with a low groan. "I'm dizzy."

"That must have been quite a punch, because you've been sleeping the day away." he said. You took a sip of your tea, surveying your bedroom with a frown. "You...picked me up from school?" Wu nodded. "Your bag is in the kitchen if you're wondering. Dinner should be done in another hour; I made some soup that'll make you feel better."

You caught a glimpse of your bedside clock, your jaw unhinging. "Eighteen thirty [6:30PM] already?" You jumped out of bed and scrambled towards the door. "Why didn't you wake me up? I have so much homework to do, and I was supposed to help you cook--" Wu calmly stood from his seat and placed his hands around your shoulders. You didn't even realise your hands were shaking until he guided you back towards your bed and took a seat at the edge with you.

"What happened at school today?" His calm eyes were swirling with a serious concern you couldn't ignore. It made your heart ache again, and all words everyone threw at you flow into your head like a broken record. The faces of your peers and their smiles they hid behind their hands, the pointing and the laughing, and then the fighting...

...oh, how could you forget, even for a moment, how awful that made you feel? Hos awful everything made you feel? The hot anger in your chest seemed to grow heavier and heavier.

If I touch you, I'll be infected with your grandma fashion.

Only paintings wear her clothes.

Don't tell me she's a villager.

I bet her dad's a farmer.

"(Y/n)?" called Wu. "Are you alright?" You heaved in a shaky breath to centre your hurricane of emotions. "I...I'm fine Sensei." You forced a smile. "Those girls were only looking for trouble. I got distracted by a teacher telling them to stop, so that's why I got hit. If I weren't distracted, you bet I would have blocked that punch." You chuckled a little to try and lighten the atmosphere, but Wu wasn't so easily convinced.

You should have expected that, but you hoped he would take the bait and just leave you alone for a bit. That was all you wanted, and that's how you liked it. Wu knitted his brows together as if he were searching your face for any clues of what else might've happened. "Is that all, or...?"

"Yeah." you casually replied. "I'm fine. It's just a scratch." Wu slowly nodded before leaving your side and venturing into the hallway. You were about to flop down on your bed, but he quickly popped back into your doorway. "I forgot to tell you, Garmadon's visiting for the weekend." Your eyes lit up, all that anger and weight in your chest vanishing. "Really?" Wu smiled so you did too, for real this time around.

"Yes. For real."

---

The only motivation keeping you from ditching school and running all the way back home was the fact that Sensei Garmadon would arrive in just two days. All you had to do was survive two more days of school before you were free on the weekend to do whatever the heck you wished. In theory, two days didn't seem so bad, but as soon as you entered the jam-packed building flowing with sleep-deprived teens, you realised just how long two days really was.

Along the way to your homeroom class, a guy had the audacity to spit his chewing gum at you. Of course, you dodged the flying projectile like a pro, but someone collided with you last second and the gum landed straight in your hair.

You remember spending the rest of the day dealing with fifty thousand insults about your clothing again, a few angry teachers giving fourty-five minute lectures about yesterday's fight, and having your whole grade blame you for the incident. Someone slammed you into a locker for payback while a group of girls decided it would be funny to trip you in the hall and scatter all your classwork on the floor.

You scrambled passed people's sneakers, madly grabbing at all the papers as if your life depended on it. You didn't have time to sort the jumble of packets and loose worksheets back into their respective places, so you threw everything in your bag and made a run for your next class.

Your teacher looked you up and down as you took a seat at your desk. "Late and running in the halls?" she inquired. "Detention! Tardiness will not be tolerated in my classroom." Your classmates sent you side-glances as you covered half your face with a hand. "Great. Could this day get any worse?" you grumbled.

Fast forward: it did. Passed the bullying and passed the tripping in the halls, the gum in your hair refused to come out, so during lunch, you had no choice but to cut it. You being you, whipped out a kunai knife that a teacher 'so happened' to see. And besides getting another detention slash possible suspension, you hadn't even started cutting your hair, leaving you with a wad of gum practically super-glueing all your locks together.

Wu had no idea about the detentions, so when you exited the school about an hour later than you should've, you deeply wished you hadn't left at all. He had his hands on his hips as you made your way down the front steps, and Morro looked like he wanted to give you a good punch in the face.

"I heard you had two detentions in a row!" exclaimed Wu. "What happened?" You handed him a yellow slip of paper and stuff your hands in your pockets with a huff. "Both my teachers want to have a 'parent teacher conference' with you tonorrow."

Wu looked like he was torn between being angry and confused, but maybe that was because he realised just how exhausted you looked. Your shoulders were slumped while your voice remained in a monotone, and you had your hood pulled high over your head (to hide the gum stuck in your hair). Morro stood on his tippy-toes to get a good look at the yellow slip of paper. "What did you do?" he questioned. "You're usually the 'good' one."

A bitter laugh escaped your throat that you couldn't hold. Wu frantically looked up from the paper to get a good look at your face, a deep frown spreading on his face. "Can you please take off your hood (Y/n)?" His voice was gentle and soft, as if he were afraid of scaring you.

"Yeah, I can't see your face."

Wu gave Morro a scolding shake of his head before turning back to you. "There's no point in hiding your face."

"I'm not hiding my face...I just...I like keeping my hood up." Wu folded the yellow paper and put it in his pocket with a sigh. "Come here (Y/n)." You hesitantly trudged over to him and he placed a hand on your head, gently pulling down your hood. Morro gasped as Wu's gaze bounced from your tired expression to the wad of gum tangled in your hair.

"Who did this to you?"

You wanted to tell him that it was an accident, that someone left their gum on the table and you were just unfortunate enough to lay your head down and get it stuck in your hair. But then you saw the fierce fire in his eyes and felt his strong resolve to help you. There would be no point in lying to him and Morro if he'd eventually find out anyway.

"Some guy at school did it."

"How?"

"He spit it at me. I tried to dodge, but someone pushed me and it got stuck in my hair."

"What about the detentions?"

You hesitated. "It...it was..." Morro pursed his lips together angrily. "Don't you dare lie!" he exclaimed. "Lying doesn't grt you anywhere." A sigh escaped your lips. "I was late to one of my classes because someone tripped me on purpose in the hallway. Some other guy threw all my stuff on the ground, so that's why I was late. I got another detention after that because I tried to cut the gum out of my hair with my kunai."

Wu's eyes doubled in size. "You what?!"

"I tried to cut my hair with a kunai knife because I didn't have scissors." you repeated. Wu ran a hand over his forehead. "Father, help me." he grumbled. "(Y/n), you do know that weapons are prohibited? This...school is..." He trailed off and motioned for you and Morro to follow him.

"How about we go home and discuss this over a nice cup of hot tea?"

PART 2

#ninjago x reader #ninjago #ninjagomorro #ninjagowu #ninjago masters of spinjitzu #lego #legoninjago

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winniecouturebg · 3 years

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Tips and Hacks that will Help You Choose the Best Bridal Shop in Dallas

When it comes to bridal shopping, Dallas is famous for its voguish bridal stores. There are multiple fashion boutiques that offer the trendiest wedding dresses in Dallas. But not every wedding store can match up to your expectations. While some fashion stores charge exorbitantly high prices, others are not capable of offering variety.

If you, my dear, are getting married soon, and want to explore bridal fashion in Dallas, then this blog will bring great help to you. We have had heart-to-heart discussions with the real brides and got to know some of the key aspects which you should really keep in mind. Scroll down and read through the article if you wish to buy your wedding dress from the best bridal shop Dallas.

Things to keep in mind while choosing a bridal fashion boutique

· Diverse collections: No matter which bridal shop you choose, ensure that it has a diverse collection just meant for you. There should not be a lack of options. You are the would-be bride and should choose from a plethora of bridal silhouettes.

If you are in a fashion boutique that is unable to show you enough variety in terms of design, fabric, patterns, trends, etc., then darling, you are at the wrong address.

· Privacy level: Does the bridal fashion store offers you enough privacy? Do you have to try your bridal silhouettes in the presence of strangers as well? Opt for a fashion store that fixes an appointment with you and offers you private time for a peaceful and comfortable shopping experience. Does this sound like Winnie Couture?

· Shopping experience: The ambiance and lighting of the bridal boutique should be top-notch. You are shopping for the best attire of your life, and the place should match your vibe. It should look opulent and dreamy. Also, the boutique must assign you a personal stylist who can suggest the best options as per your body type, wedding theme, and similar other factors.

· Price range: First of all, you need to decide on a budget for the same. While exploring bridal shop in Dallas, make sure you strictly adhere to the budget. Opt for the fashion boutique which falls well within your shopping budget.

· The maximum number of guests allowed: Because of space limitations, most of the bridal fashion stores allow only a limited number of guests inside during your appointment. Before you fix the appointment, enquire about the maximum number of guests you can bring in. This will save you from unnecessary hassle and inconvenience.

· Appointment duration: While choosing the best bridal shop Dallas, do not forget to ask about the maximum time frame they offer during an appointment. If you find the duration to be adequate, feel free to proceed with the appointment booking.

If you are still confused as to how to zero down upon the best bridal shop Dallas, then feel free to walk into Winnie Couture – the ultimate luxurious bridal boutique. Decking up brides with the most exquisite wedding gowns for over 20 years, Winnie Couture has garnered multiple accolades and appreciations for being a premium bridal fashion boutique in Dallas.

#best bridal shop dallas #wedding dresses dallas #wedding gowns dallas #bridal gowns dallas

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lonelypond · 3 years

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Idol Protection Program: Vintage

NicoMaki, Love Live, 827 words, 1/1

Summary: Nico gets a hot tip about something mysterious and Maki and Dia follow her into Tokyo

Vintage

Dia, green eyes serious, stared at the chessboard. Her hand hovered over the knight. Maki smiled. Dia, now nine, had been playing chess for a year now. She struggled with the L movement of the knight, preferring the pieces that swept the board. So Dia had recently been reading through piles of chess books, forcing herself to use knight openers.

“Maki-chan!”

“In here, Nico-chan.”

Nico popped her head into the entertainment room of the Nishikino manor, “Just got a hot tip. I’m heading to Shibuya-ku. Do you and Dia want to come? Your mom took Ruby to get pastries for dessert and snacking.”

“Dia?” Maki raised an eyebrow at her daughter.

“What are we going to Shibuya-ku for, Mom?”

“Fashion.” Nico had a sparkle in her eye.

“Ooohh.” Dia had been to several runway fashion shows with Nico and she loved sitting in the front rows, watching the tall models come down the runway in their pretty clothes.

“We can finish the game later.”

“Okay, Mama.”

“Just let me get my coat, Nico-chan.”

“Already grabbed it.” Nico handed Dia her puffer jacket and then helped Maki into her cashmere coat. “Let’s go, Nico’s best girls.”

###

Dia was now nervous on the Tokyo trains, since Umi had lost her for a few minutes a couple of years ago, but other than sticking close to Nico, hand held very tightly, Dia seemed mostly curious. Nico of course had her trenchcoat collar up, a scarf covering half her face, and mirrored sunglasses. Maki could see her own reflection smiling in them.

“Here we are.” Nico was on her feet and out the door as soon as it opened, sweeping Dia along with her.

“Mom?” Dia sounded confused. This wasn’t what she was expecting.

They reached a pedestrian steet. People who dressed like models were coming out of izakayas, calling out to each other, checking their phones to catch up to friends, the glare of neon and the noise of pachinko parlors were everywhere as crowds rushed forward in wide clumps. Dia was used to the kawaii cosy scale of Harajuka, this was so much grander. Nico’s pace picked up and Maki had a sudden flash of Yazawa Nico, Otonikazaka third year on the hunt for exclusive Idol merchandise.

“Here we are.” Nico stopped at a dark wall covered in graffiti, stairs leading down, calling out. “Hey, Ikeda Tamiko-san, Nico Ni has arrived.

A tall woman, tattoo sleeves, long, blingy nails, purple mohawk, screamed and skittered toward Nico as they entered the shop jammed with mannequins, clothes, and color.

“Tami-chin!” Nico had her arms open for a hug, and the woman slammed into her.

“Wait ‘til you see it, Nico-sama.”

Maki and Dia both looked at each other. They’d never known Nico to accept the sama honorific from anyone. Tamiko-san noticed them standing there awkwardly, “Oh, Nico, is this Maki-chan and Dia-chan? They’re so cute I could crush-hug ‘em.”

“Yep, two of my best girls.” Nico slipped an arm around Maki’s waist and kissed her on the cheek, her other hand on Dia’s shoulder. Dia had just noticed a mannequin with a pink retro spacesuit dress covered in sakura blossoms and rhinestone stars.

“Mom, is that...” Dia pointed, twisting to look up at Nico.

“Yep. They make their own versions of the coolest, trendiest stage costumes here. Nico, Gaga, Madonna.”

Maki giggled. Of course, Nico listed herself first. Dia was now standing in front of the costume, staring up at it.

“Here it is!” The sales clerk-store owner-smuggler? Maki wasn’t sure which, pulled out a pink check short jacket, open front, raw unfinished edges. Nico leaned forward on the counter while Tami-chin rambled, “Yohji Yamamoto, practically unworn, I spotted it screaming “Nico Ni in a dusty warehouse.” Tami-chin did the full treatment, both hands at her temple.

“Nico is flattered but…”

“For you, 300,000 yen. You won’t find one anywhere else. At any price.”

“You won’t find Nico wearing it for even half that.” Nico sighed, arms crossed, shaking her head.

“Mama?” Dia pulled on Maki’s hand, whispering.

“What is it, bun?”

“Can’t we afford full price? And new?” Dia was half watching Nico, gesturing wildly, body language reading “you are trying to take money from empty pockets.”

“Of course, we can afford it, bun.”

“Then why is Mom...”

Nico had superhearing for daughters, siblings, and wife. She held up a hand to stop Tami-chin’s new plea and waved to Dia to come.

“C’mere, bun, you’re old enough to learn how to never pay full price.”

Dia glanced at Maki, who nodded. Dia walked warily toward Nico, while Tami-chin wailed, “Nico-sama, you’ll break me with cuteness.”

Nico winked at Maki, “Nico knows.”

“Vintage Nico,” Maki chuckled to herself, and leaving Nico to indoctrinate Dia into the ways of the haggle, started to look for something Ruby might like. Although she might just pay full price for the spacesuit herself, when Nico was out of earshot. Maki’d always liked that costume.

A/N: The Idol Fanfic Heaven server is having Promptober, which is fun. Today's was "vintage." This is a little long, but I'm leaving it that way. Dia and Nico insist ; )

#Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #Kurosawa Dia #NicoMaki #fashion #Parenting #Tokyo #Idol Protection Program #fluff #fun

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hoffkk · 4 years

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The Best is Yet to Come

A Brightwell Fanfic

Story By: @hoffkk

Prompt: Gimme a starting question, and I’ll give you a brightwell fic that ends with a kiss!

Question: What do you think I’m doing here? from @officerparker

Summary: When Malcolm and Dani become engaged, his mother gets a little overzealous with the wedding planning. The couple is grateful but also annoyed and at a loss. How does one stop Hurricane Jessica?

**********

"Mother, what are you doing here?" Malcolm asked curiously. He wasn't expecting her arrival this morning, yet here she was just letting herself right into his apartment as classy and sassy as ever.

"What do you think I'm doing here?" Jessica retorted exasperatedly. Not waiting for a response, she quickly added, "I'm here to plan the wedding of course."

Sitting at the counter next to Dani drinking coffee, he shared a confused look with his new fiancée then flicked his gaze back to his mother and replied, "We literally just got engaged two days ago."

"Exactly. We're all ready a full day behind," She noted, moving forward with her designer handbag in one hand and a large paper shopping bag in the other. "and if this is going to be the event of the season, we must begin preparations as soon as possible. Speaking of... what season were you two thinking of getting married in?"

"We haven't really gotten that far." Dani told her.

"Oh, no matter, we should really pick the location first and then see what they have open over the next year," Jessica said with a wave of the hand. "which reminds me, I took the liberty of making a few calls yesterday to the trendiest wedding venues in the city and..." She continued to rant as she walked off toward the living room to put down her bags and get out her phone. Malcolm rolled his eyes then mouthed "Sorry" to Dani who just smirked and gestured with her head to follow. Heading down the hall with their coffee, they all sat down on the couch as Jessica looked at the notes on her cell and listed off the venues she had called and the dates available. After much discussion, they settled on the Tribeca Rooftop. It had the wow factor that Jessica wanted, and Dani liked the idea of an outdoor wedding, especially after looking at the pictures of the location in a wedding magazine that Jessica had brought with her. As for Malcolm, he was happy as long as both of the women were happy. With this decision made, his mother made a call to book the location. Next, Jessica grabbed the shopping bag she had brought and pulled out a fancy white board with white ribbons stretched across it, creating an elegant diamond pattern.

"This is the wedding vision board." She smiled as she handed it over to Dani.

"Vision board?" Dani queried with a quirk of the brow as she passed the magazine to Malcolm and took the board.

"Every time we make a decision, we add it to the board under one of the ribbons to create the perfect vision of the perfect wedding." Pausing a moment, Jessica grabbed the wedding magazine from Malcolm and her scissors from her purse. Then, after some tearing and cutting, she slid a small picture of the rooftop between two ribbons in the center of the board. "There. Brilliant." She went on, admiring her handiwork. "Now, let's talk about color scheme." The discussion went on for a couple hours as they talked colors, flowers, and food. The latter brought up the question of the head count for the wedding. When his mom was talking about inviting over 300 people, Malcolm knew he had to put an end to her madness but didn't know how. Then, like a miracle from heaven, his phone rang. Hastily pulling it from his pocket, he answered after the first ring, "Hey, Gil. Good to hear from you, buddy. What's up? A case? Uh huh, of course. We'll be right there. Bye."

"Malcolm, you can't leave now." His mother grumbled unhappily.

"If there's a case, we don't have a choice." Dani told her. "Don't worry, we will finish this conversation later."

"We better. The wedding is in 8 months, and we've got a lot of work to do." Jessica told them.

"Right. Why don't you head home and work on the guest list then? You make your own, and we will make our own, then we can cross reference them later this week." Malcolm suggested.

"Fine." Jessica huffed. "I suppose that will work. Oh, and I want to make an appointment at Kleinfeld 's Bridal, so you need to decide on the wedding party ASAP, okay?"

"Will do." Malcolm nodded.

"All right, go do whatever it is you guys do to get ready for work. I'll show myself out." Then, grabbing her purse, she gave a wave and an air kiss then called out, "Ta-ta for now, my darlings."

The couple stood and returned Jessica's goodbye as they watched her head back to the front of the apartment and out the front door. Once the door shut behind his mother, Malcolm sank back down to the sofa and breathed a sigh of relief, "Oh, thank god."

"What are you doing? We have to get going." Dani said crossing her arms and staring down at her fiancé as he ran his hands through his hair and leaned back.

Resting his feet on the coffee table, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, willing away a small headache that was beginning to form. After second, he replied casually, "No, we don't. That was just Ainsley."

"What?" Dani questioned, feeling puzzled.

"I lied to get my mom to leave." He explained.

"Wow. Thats..." She trailed off, coming to sit beside him before finishing. "one of the sweetest things you've ever done. Thank you."

Malcolm felt her warm lips against his cheek and suddenly felt much better. Opening his eyes and dropping his hand, he inquired, "So, you're not mad."

"No." Dani assured. "Don't get me wrong, your mom was being very helpful, but she was also a little..."

"Intense? Neurotic?" He suggested.

With a smirk, she shook her head at him then amended, "I was gonna say overwhelming."

"Yeah, well, Jessica Whitly is nothing if not a planner, all the way down to the very last detail." Malcolm assured. "And when she sinks her perfectly manicured claws into a project, she really gets into it, especially if it involves me."

"Clearly." Dani retorted, staring at the nearby upholstered chair that currently displayed their vision board which was exploding with magazine clippings now. "I mean, knew wedding's were a lot, but Whitly weddings are A LOT a lot."

"Don't worry, I'll talk to her." He told her as he moved his feet back to the floor and threaded their fingers together."I'll tell her to back off and let us make the decisions. In fact, just say the word, and I can tell her we changed our minds about everything we decided today."

"No. Don't do that." She tossed back. "I like our plans."

"Really?" Malcolm challenged skeptically. "Because I know you, Dani Powell, and grand events aren't exactly your style. You can't really want a fancy rooftop wedding with over 300 people."

"The concept isn't terrible." Dani replied vaguely, not wanting to admit that he was right. "Besides, it made your mom so happy when I agreed with her suggestions."

"But this wedding isn't about her." He argued. "It's about us."

"I know." She nodded, pulling his hand into her lap and sandwiching it between her own. "But I also know your mom has been through hell ever since your dad's arrest twenty years ago and deserves to finally have something good to celebrate. You all do. So, let her plan her heart out and create an amazing celebration as big as she wants. She'll be happy, and it'll make everything much easier for us in the long run."

Malcolm looked into her warm brown eyes and smiled at how incredible she was. He never thought about the wedding that way, but Dani, as usual, was right. Happy occasions were in much shorter supply for the Whitly family than most. They had been since he was ten. So, now that these joyful moments were coming around more often, they owed it to themselves to make the most of them. Needing to be certain about her stance on this though, he asked in confirmation, "Are you sure?"

"Positive." Dani smiled back. "Honestly, this may not be the wedding I always pictured, but there is only one detail that really matters to me."

"What's that?" Malcolm questioned with a tilt of the head, trying to read her expression.

"You, waiting for me at the end of the aisle." She smiled affectionately, meaning every word. It was true. Jessica could do whatever she wanted... release 1,000 doves, dress her like a cupcake, invite all of New York City... it didn't matter. As long as the end game was marrying Malcolm, she'd be happy, truly, blissfully happy.

"Done." He beamed with pleasure before closing the gap between them and kissing her slowly and deeply to seal the promise.

Dani responded in kind, cupping the side of his face with her free hand. After a long moment, she pulled back and stared into his sapphire gaze as she stroked his cheek tenderly with her thumb. Not wanting the moment to end, Dani bit her lip then said, "You know, we should probably do that again... as practice for the big day."

With a cheeky grin Malcolm countered, "Or we could practice for the big night."

Her smile widened and amusement lit her eyes as she replied, "We could do that."

Without hesitation, Malcolm moved in one quick fluid motion, lifting Dani from the couch bridal style. She squealed in surprise and giggled in delight as he headed down the hall and across the threshold of the bedroom. If being engaged was this wonderful, Dani couldn't wait to be married. Starting a life with Malcolm was definitely going to be the best thing that ever happened to her. Yes, the best was definitely yet to come.

#prodigal son #prodigal son fanfic #brightwell #brightwell fanfic #malcolm bright #dani powell #jessica whitly #mother of the groomzilla #fluff and humor #dash of smut #romantic fluff #wedding planning

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