#covingtonstarter

Was she here to cause a little chaos among her friends? Well, yeah, but for all intent and purpose Dakota only came along to the auction to keep up appearances. She knew her mom liked to volunteer with city things. She wasn't sure just how involved she was with this one, not because she didn't care but she may have forgotten to ask...several times even when it was brought up in dinner conversation. Nevertheless, she was there now, she'd already put in a bid, it was too late to turn back. The little plan in her brain had had its seed planted.

Taking a long sip of the drink in her hand, she let out a sigh. "Y'know, I'm starting to wonder if coming here was a bad idea for my wallet."

Lake truly couldn't complain. She had a great family, and a great wife. She had a great career, and a cool gig at the school. She wasn't unhappy or sad about any of it. But there was something hitting her today, as she stared at the little valentine hearts. Of course she was going to have an amazing Valentine's day, her wife would make sure of that. So, it wasn't that part of this holiday that was hitting her; it was the part that cause most holidays to hit her. Lake loved the holidays, and one day, she hoped to have kids of her own to celebrate. She knew Christmas would be a hell of a time when that happened. But she couldn't happen but think about herself, her sister. Valentine's day was never just about romantic love to her. It was about love, period. Her dad would get her and her sister roses, a stuff bear, and a box of chocolates more often then not. But it'd seen not everyone thought that way. "Okay, so question-- how do you feel about getting kids Valentine gifts?" She asked the person next to her, "You know, not like just cards. Or kids passing them out to each other. But like an adult giving kids a set up?" She had done it for her niece since she became her niece, her cheer girls, and she'd do it for her own kids one day, too. "I've had people tell me that's weird, and I'm not quite understanding how showing a child you love them on a day that's about love is weird."

status: CLOSED

Fuck habits and fuck mornings, thought Ozan Bulut as he walked into one of his favorite establishments at just past eleven in the morning. Which really begged the question of what, exactly, the man considered early...or a morning.

Irrelevant.

Because the only relevant thing right now was the pistachio croissant that was waiting for him behind the counter, one of the few routines that he'd managed to maintain for weeks now since discovering the pastry. Every Wednesday, he would drop whatever he was doing and go to Bread & Butter for something pistachio flavored. You had to know how much he loved that pastry, that it was enough to get him out of bed before lunchtime. Unheard of if you knew him well enough, really. But that was how Ozan worked, he'd do anything for things that he wanted or that mattered to him. Even as small as a dessert.

He was going to enjoy this so much, he'd turned off his phone and even the long line of people was not going to ruin his day, dammit. "What is going on today? Are they selling pastries or just giving them away?" He asked the person in line next to him, a furrowed eyebrow. "It's so crowded in here."

"Okay, how much do you think I'm going to have to pay to get someone to do a cool ass Chainsaw Massacre shoot?" Liam wondered out loud, as he picked up the piece of meat off his plate and held it off to the side of his face. It resembled a quarter of a face to him, which would put most people off -- normal people -- but for Liam, it simply just inspired another horror shoot. Despite the fact that it was 3 months off since Halloween, Liam felt people didn't enjoy the art of horror as much as one should. To find himself a shoot that involved anything to do with a horror classic was like finding gold for the man. This single piece of meat just inspired a new art piece in his mind's eye. Dropping the piece of meat back onto his place, he glanced up at the person before him. Arching a brow, he smirked, "On a scale of one to ten, how likely are you to call the cops on me right now?" He asked, "And on another scale, how fast can you run?" His face was solemn for a mere second, before he broke out into a grin, it clear he was making a joke. "No, but seriously, if you know anyone who doesn't mind being drenched in some fake blood for a few hours, send them my way."

OPEN

Mom guilt. Did it ever go away? Considering Harper was only about to be 5, Callie was quite sure that wouldn't anytime soon. So, until then, she wasn't above bides that helped it along. Of course, her brother would remind her that she was ridiculous. Harper loved her, she didn't lack anything; and even thought of her mother as some kind of superhero. My mommy puts away bad guys! She would tell anyone who was willing to listen. "Mommy! Can I have sprinkles?" The little girl shouted as she glued her face to the glass that shielded her from the array of different flavors. Callie looked down at her child, a soft smile crossing her features as she took in the excitement her little girl expelled. "Of course, but first you gotta pick a flavor." She stated, glancing up from her small child's frame to the display of flavors. She, personally, thought chocolate mint sounded good. "Vanilla!" Harper shouted, which only received a quick nod of her mother's head. Callie expected nothing less from her child, or any child, really. Vanilla seemed safe to the masses. Callie looked up at the young teen behind the counter, "Can I have a vanilla ice cream cone, with sprinkles." She ordered, before Harper adds in "Lots of sprinkles!" Callie pressed her lips together, and simply gave a nod at the employee as an acceptance to the request. Within a few minutes, the young employee was handing Harper her cone, which earned a squeak out of the 4 year old, followed by a "Thank you!" Harper would turn and proceed to run towards the table she'd usually pick when they'd stop here. Callie looked back at the employee, "Could I have--" Her head immediately whipped towards the direction she had last seen her child, the high pitch squeak of a cry being the only sound Callie could hear. At first, her heart raced, the innocent scene before her nothing near the thoughts that flashed through her mind when she first held the sound. Despite staring at a person who probably would've most likely preferred ice cream any where but their leg; it definitely earned a relieved exhaled from Callie before she hurried towards her daughter. "I am so sorry," Callie proceeds to apologize to the person her child has smeared her ice cream cone on. Harper turning to her mother, "Mommy, I dropped my ice cream!" She whined, in which, Callie just placed her hand softy on top of her child's head, and ran her hand through her hair. "We will get you another." She states, before glancing up at the person once more, "I am so sorry." She repeats, "I've been working with her on watching where she's going, but it's not quite stuck yet. Can I get you anything? Would you like ice cream---" She paused, "You know, in a cone, or a cup -- not on you? My treat."

capping at 4 (0/4)

status: open, capped at (0/3) replies.

Bek Turan was a woman of habits. A woman of rituals and routine. One of them just so happened to be posting up along the counter at Lucille's, a spread of papers fanned around her plate and a cup of coffee within easy reach.

That day was no different. Treatment plans, progress notes, a tentative schedule for the next week— she'd made herself quite at home in the last hour she'd been there.

But Bek wasn't selfish. She knew she wasn't the only one who went weak at the knees for their churro milkshakes and piping hot fries.

When a figure appeared in her peripheral she glanced up, notching on a smile equally sheepish and sincere. "Sorry." She was taking up enough room for three people, wasn't she?

"Do you need the seat? I can move my things."