Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.
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@letitallflo
Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.
Dalai Lama (via wordsnquotes)

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belva-athanasâ:Â
.
Being met with Florence and a tub of sweets was never a bad situation to find oneself in (even if Belva usually avoided sweets, although less since leaving). Blue eyes widen slightly at the offer, a large grin on her face. âAny chance some of that almond fudge is vegan?â she asks, tilting her chin. âIf not, Iâd be happy for a chat instead of chocolate.âÂ
âBoth are,â Flo assured her, âI know who Iâm talking to.â While she couldnât remember all of her customerâs allergies or favorites (as nice as that would be) Belva held a special place in her heart. As strange as it was, Florence was more of a loner --- she had never been able to make true friends. The blonde treated her more like a friend than someone she hardly knew, and she probably didnât realize how appreciated it was. âIâd gladly take you up on that chat, though. How have the holidays been treating you so far?â
âI greatly overestimated the amount of orders I would get for red velvet this year,â Florence admitted sheepishly, showing off the giant tub of cookies. âAnd what better to do with freshly baked gifts around this time of year than give them away, right? So, if youâd like them, theyâre yours. If youâre not a red velvet person, I have an excessive amount of almond fudge, too.â
Constantin breathed the crisp air of the frozen ground, face freezing as he ran his fingers across the pine needles. The scent of the Nordmann Fir enveloping him completely. There was something to be said about tree farms. Planting more trees than the ones they cut down while at the same time bringing a brighter experience to others. He remembers a time where dreams were all he had, and expectations a shadow in the future, wishing his family would take a day off to cut down their own tree. Instead every December Constantin would wake up to a full decorated house done in the early mornings by an interior designer.Â
Now, as he looked ahead of him seeing acres and acres of trees with his own money to spend Constantin knew what he wanted to do. âWhat ifâŚwell, what if i bought it?â he asked them, turning his gaze towards them. âI know. I know it is crazy. Trust me. This would be a whole business in itself, but the owners have agreed to stay for a year to show me the ropes.â Pressing his fist against his chest, just knowing what he wanted. âBut this is all i want.â
âDo it,â Flo advised --- softly, never the type to push her opinion on others. âBuying my bakery was the best decision Iâve ever made.â It mightâve been something small, but she found a sense of freedom in making something of her own. Building it from the ground up. Being in charge was absolutely overwhelming and sometimes even terrifying, but there wasnât anything that could make her want to go back and change her own mind. Just looking at the expression he wore, she knew his heart was in the right place, and it sounded like he was thinking clearly if heâd already discussed learning with the owners.
âIf you know what youâre getting into, and youâre prepared to work hard, do it.â
Cassia was having a day.Â
There were the normal things that could go wrong: being out of their favorite tea, finding they were out of some of the art supplies they needed, finding the store to be out of the paint colors they wanted, their allergies were acting up. Then they had accidentally broke their glasses frames and had attempted to fix them with duct tap while they waited for new frames to arrive. But the thing that had pushed their already bad day over the edge was when they were bringing their newly finished painting outside to dry and tripped, landing right on the canvas and ruining the entire thing. Rolling over, their clothes were ruined as they just laid in the grass next to their ruined canvas - their glasses having fallen back apart and were laying somewhere in the grass, Cassia couldnât see well enough to pick them back up. âThatâs it, Iâm done.â they quietly announced, though really what it was they were referring to was beyond them. Maybe it was the day, maybe it was art, maybe it was life, Cassia honestly didnât know - and then was surprised to see someone looking over them. And had probably seen the entire thing.
Florence recognized them. Theyâd been at the house the day sheâd dropped muffins off. One of Vidalâs kids. Adopted kids, Cassia had been quick to add. It had tugged at Florenceâs heart when she referred to some of the others as being his actual children, as if that lessened their importance in his life. Being adopted herself, Florence understood that feeling vaguely. It was something that worried her in the beginning, and had went away over time. Her mothers had never made her feel any less like theirs. There were also no birth children in the mix to compare herself to.
âAre you okay?â She asked gently, standing over them now, covered in paint. Talk about a bad day. She held the glasses sheâd watched fall to the grass in her hand, though there didnât seem to be any repairing them. âDo you need some help getting somewhere? I imagine it could be hard to see without these...â

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One of Bluebellâs favorite activities was getting herself a nice coffee (slightly sweet and slightly bitter was just right) and sitting outside in the sun, enjoying her alone time. She was sipping her iced coffee and basking when a shadow cast over her face, interrupting her sun time. The girl tilted her sunglasses down on the bridge of her nose.
âSorry, youâre kind of blocking the sun. Could you shift over a bit?â
Florence was waiting to meet her mother for lunch, who was running late, as usual. Sheâd been so busy with work lately, sheâd hardly seen her family. Being the boss wasnât always fun when you were short staffed. Taking a detour to her favorite coffee shop, she stopped outside to check her texts just to ensure that, by some miracle, her mom hadnât gotten to the restaurant before her. It was just down the street. She could sprint if she needed to.
âOh, Iâm so sorry.â She offered Bluebell an apologetic smile and moved a step to the left. âI didn't even realize I was shadowing you.â
azra--arslan¡:Â
âAs good as those sound, do you happen to have anything made with berries?â Azra asked, âI have been craving strawberries like my entire pregnancy, but I think that this baby has finally broadened their horizons to any berry.â
âAt least you know theyâll eat their fruits,â Florence smiled, her eyes lingering briefly on the womanâs belly. She longed to be in her place one day. She didnât mind waiting until the right time, but she still felt the tiniest twinge of jealousy when she saw other mothers. Not that she wasnât happy for them, of course. âI have some strawberry and blueberry muffins, and a raspberry dessert bar. I can bake you up something specific if you have a request and donât mind waiting!â
demirarslan¡:Â
⌠.
a manâs house had burnt to the ground, courtesy of his final nod. remnants of a home should not be a victory. and yet, no decision could have been wiser. no decision could have spared them more grief. the bakery was not out of celebration. demir would be a regular if he went to the bakery every time a grey plan succeeded. but something did feel different.Â
the young woman standing behind the counter possessed that same aura of those who had not let themselves get wrapped up in the misdeeds. those who faced nothing but collateral damage. those who knew vidal athanas and all of his associates by name alone. how nice a life one must be.Â
â alright. â red velvet. for as simple as they were, they looked of luxury. â two red velvet cupcakes, then. â
Florenceâs smile only grew as the man took her up on the offer --- there was something about every single sell she made that filled her with pride. Especially when she watched the same faces return. She was making a living doing what she loved, baking things others loved too. Who wouldnât be happy about that?
âAlright!â Punching the number into the register, she pulled two red velvet cupcakes from the freshest batch, placing them in a small white box. âThatâll be ÂŁ1.50,â she cheerfully informed. âWould you like your receipt?â
remy-arztâ:Â
Remy grinned happily, taking in the sweet smell of freshly baked bread and cream cheese and buttercream. âThose look delightful.â He replied, giving them a look. âHmm, two for one⌠so if I get six⌠no, seven, just in case, I could get fourteen?â He asked, leaning against the counter. He thought it would be nice to bring a little treat to the house on the hill, everyone could definitely use a pick me up.
âThank you!â Florence recognized the man from the day sheâd showed up to the Athanasâ house --- a child of Vidal, she assumed. He hadnât said so, but heâd mentioned they needed to watch out for reporters. She remembered him being kind then, so she smiled brightly now. âYou sure could. That goes for all cupcakes, too, so you could mix and match flavors if youâre not a fan of red velvet, or just want to try something new.â
belva-athanasâ:Â
Florence seems completely unconcerned, no curiosity, unease, or pity in her gaze, and Belva feels herself relax slightly. If the other woman wasnât going to bring up the townâs happenings, then neither would she, and so she simply replies with a, âOh, you know,â slim shoulders lifting in a shrug. âHow about you?â Her smile isnât quite as bright as normal, but Florenceâs cheery personality does make it easier to manage a genuine one. At the mention of a cheesecake bar, she knows sheâs made the right decision to stop by the shop today, and leans in, tone bright. âThat sounds so tasty.â Reaching out, the blonde pops a sample into her mouth, eyebrows pulled together slightly in thought. âItâs great as is, but maybeâŚsome lemon juice? Or something else thatâs kinda tart, you know?âÂ
She didnât know, but Florence took the less informative response as a hint that Belva didnât want to dive into it, and she didnât blame her. It hadnât been that long since her father had died. She was probably still grieving, not to mention sheâd left town for a reason, but now she was back and seemingly sticking around. Change was never easy. âIâm doing well! Been keeping myself busy in the kitchen.â Taking a bite of a sample herself, she nodded in agreement. âToo rich, arenât they? Thatâs what I was thinking. I never know when to go easy on the sugar.â She had a bit of a sweet tooth herself --- that was the main reason she was a baker, after all. She wouldnât be so passionate about making something she didnât enjoy eating herself. âLemon juice is a great idea! It can tone it down without changing the flavor too much. See, I knew I was asking the right person.â

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belva-athanas¡:Â
Oversize sunglasses perched on her nose, Belvaâs grateful for the sunshine that gives her an excuse to wear a floppy hat. Itâs the perfect look for someone avoiding lingering gazes, and between the recent arrest and her motherâs strange note, thatâs exactly what she wants to do. However, she was also craving comfort food, and Florence Kravetsâ bakery was the place to go. âHey, Florence,â she greets, Florenceâs perky personality unchanged by the townâs recent drama. âUm, do you still do those vegan dessert bar things?â
âHow are you doing, Belva?â Her smile remained bright and friendly, completely oblivious to the fact the other girl had been arrested not too long ago. With everything going on around town, sheâd stopped keeping up with all of the negativity. âI sure do! Iâve even been working on a vegan cheesecake bar. I think it still needs some tweaking, though. How do you feel about cheesecake?â Pulling out a sample tray out from behind the counter, she slid it over to Belva. âMaybe you could tell me what you think itâs missing?â
âWelcome to my humble bakery,â Florence looked up from behind the counter as the bell over the door chimed, greeting the person coming in with a smile. âI just finished a fresh batch of red velvet cupcakes, two for one special!â
florence k is such an adorable angel, much like her writer! alicia, i have so enjoyed writing with you again and the amount of heart you put into your characters AND your interactions with everyone both ic and ooc. you are always so sweet and upbeat and just a joy to talk to! keep doing a wonderful job and it is so great to have you back!
WOW, SWEET. Youâre the angel here. This made my day.
do they want children?
It is her biggest dream sheâs yet to reach in life.
PICK FLORENCEâS BRAIN.
the human embodiment of one of those valentine's day heart candies, flo k is such a sweetheart. she has so much light and cares so much about people she doesn't even KNOW, it's amazing. i love her so much and feel the day brighten whenever she's on the dash!
Thank you !! Can sweetness go uncorrupted around here? Stay tuned to find out.

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do they have a favorite movie?
Not one particular movie. She really enjoys 2000s romantic comedies --- How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days, Heâs Just Not That Into You, 50 First Dates --- and animal movies.Â
PICK FLORENCEâS BRAIN.
florenceathanasâ:Â
â thank you ! â he was quite happy to hear that his face paint was not appreciated by just him and him alone. while that wouldâve been fine, someone else thinking the bright colors were as lovely as he thought they were ( âŚnot that she had exactly said that⌠) could only make that proud glow grow. â oh, yeah ! one of my siblings, cassia, has an art booth â theyâre offering face-painting. i can show you over, if youâd like ? â come to think of it, knowing cassia, the one who was doing the face-painting⌠he technically did know a guy.
the only prize he had ever managed to win at the festival was a small stick-on frog. small stick-on frogs were what you were offered if you managed to get one basketball in the hoop of the long-hooped game ( he didnât know the proper name â it was just âthe basketball game with the long hoopsâ ). heâd been to the festival and played enough games to know that one of two things was true: 1) he was very, very uncoordinated, or 2) the games were rigged. they werenât mutually exclusive, but, if he had to choose one, heâd lean more towards his poor coordination skills. sure, some games were going to be more challenging than others, but heâd seen people win at least once on all of them â they certainly couldnât all be rigged. â i like to think most of the parents wouldnât let them play the game unless they had money for all the betta fixings ready, â he remarked, finding her observation to be rather valid â more realistic than pessimistic, for sure. â either that or they think itâs rigged, but thatâs a pretty negative and dangerous outlook â for that specific game, at least. â
âOh, please!â Florence would not be content, now, until she was walking around glowing with flowers and a smile on her face the same way that he was. If sheâd stumbled across the booth on her own she wouldâve jumped in immediately. The game sheâd spent twenty pounds on had taken up more of her time than she realized, and she hadnât traveled very far throughout the festival, only stopping at a few booths even though sheâd been there well over two hours. âIâm surprised I havenât seen more people walking around as sunflowers and cats! Your sibling is a very good artist.â
She nodded, feeling some comfort. âYouâre right.â It was unlikely theyâd rig simple games like that, and it was even more unlikely that any parent would let their child play for a prize they werenât prepared to deal with, the same way they wouldnât buy them a drum set for Christmas if they couldnât put up with the noise. Florence prided herself on being rather optimistic, but there was a gray line there when she found herself worrying over anything elseâs well being. She still held onto her bright outlook, but she was so softhearted. âOh, gosh! Do you know what time it is?â She glanced around them, suddenly realizing she hadnât even checked when the competitions started. âOr better yet, when the bake off starts? This little guy,â she waved the plush bear around, âgot me all distracted.âÂ