#bfhq.start

"don't drink the coffee," she said, sipping at her starbucks drink. "i put a laxative in it because that bitch over there told me my hair was ridiculous and unprofessional."

“No -- don’t wanna!” Emma’s protest was loud, somehow managing to rise above all the general noise of the diner. He sighed, trying to remain patient with this newfound fussiness that she had developed. “Really, Ems this is your favourite.” he pleaded general, before she grabbed a handful of fries and threw them as far away as her little hands could, hitting the person on the next table. “Oh my god, no that’s naughty Emma.” he scolded gently, never really one to raise his voice, especially with his daughter. Turning an apologetic glance over to the person that had been hit by the fries, he sighed. “I’m so so sorry, this is so unlike her. Emma, you need to apologise right now that was very rude.” he turned his attention back to the other, “Please, let me buy your dinner as a way to say sorry.”

Do you ever have one of those days where you should’ve stayed in bed? Darcy’s fingers moved rapidly across the screen of her phone as she walked briskly through the town square, having just departed a newspaper meeting that hadn’t gone well -- something that she just added to the long list of things that were going wrong that day. The tweet she was writing was a small attempt at venting, knowing that it was unlikely to help, but still as she hit send it made her feel just the smallest bit better. But, her attention was more on her phone than where she was walking, and she hit a bit of ice the wrong way and her legs flew out from beneath her. “Oh shi--” she barely had time to react as her phone flew out from one hand and the other reached out to break her fall. “Ow fuck, shit--” she snapped, before realising her fall had been observed. “Oh man, tell me you didn’t see that?”