W Y N N I E

“I think we’re on opposite sides of the morning spectrum,” he sighed, however a small smile lingered on his lips as he shook his head of curls a bit. He hated getting up early but breakfast was one of the things that made it just a little bit easier for him. “Sweet definitely .. got that tooth, you know,” he joked before nodding in agreement. “Coffee sounds always good. Black with sugar.”

“Wynnie, what’s going on?” Arthur asked cheerfully as he entered the bakery. It was a friend of his who got him hooked on this place after bringing in some doughnuts to a meeting about a month ago. Since then, the Sweeney had been a regular, making the trip out to Brooklyn every other week to pick up a lofty batch of freshly baked goods. “Where’s Holland at this morning? She flee the scene already and left this place to you?” he joked. He had learned from the owner of the tales of her time down in the South before making the move up to the Big Apple. So far, everything was working well in their favor and Arthur hoped that and all the more for the both of them in their baking ventures. “I’d like to place an order actually. My niece is turning eight in two weeks and my sister asked me to deliver on this part since she’s swamped planning everything else. All I know is that it’s Wonder Woman themed.” 

“Oh you know, its a pretty slow morning so I’m just making a list of stuff I gotta do before the weekend gets here.” Wynonna shrugged as she looked over at Arthur and smiled warmly, she was glad to have someone else around. “Now be fair, Holland is here just about everyday at the crack of dawn. She should be in later though I told her she ought to have a day off.” Wynonna sighed as she placed her hand on her hip and tsked her tongue. “Ooooh, that is lovely! I love planning cakes for the little ones.” She reached for a cubby to pull out an order form. “Mostly because I’m usually the one to make them.” She giggled and bounced a bit on her heels. “So wonder woman inspired. Your niece is pretty cool.” She nodded as she took down a few notes. “Got any reference pictures for me or you want me to get creative?” 

Fallon had a major sweet tooth. Ever since she was a child, she’d find any excuse for a pastry. And that logic extended into her adult years. She’d just left her agent’s office with an invitation to one of the most incredible photo shoots she’d ever be a part of; an on-location shoot in Orlando. The model was on cloud nine, and that meant celebrating in the best way possible; with a cupcake. Surely, sugary desserts were not the way to prepare for a swimsuit shoot, but one cupcake never killed anybody, right? Stepping into the shop, Fallon let the aroma of baked desserts fill senses, a smile settling onto her features. “Good morning!” The model chirped, approaching the counter. “I’m actually here for cupcakes. I swear, I come in at least once a week.”

Wynonna couldn’t help but smile at the petite dark haired woman who popped into her bakery. She was pleased to see that she was just about as sunny as Wynnie was. “Really now, I do think I remember seeing you in here. I’m the assistant manager actually. Wynonna, but most people just call me Wyn or Wynnie.” The ginger haired woman grinned down at the smaller one. “Well today we have chocolate, vanilla, red velvet, and lemon raspberry. Any of those sounds appealing to you?” She questioned with an arch of her brow. 

Tatum had been so wrapped up in her pregnancy and her husband’s deployment that she hardly realized the end of February had crept up on her, meaning her daughter’s birthday would be right around the corner. She’d hardly started planning, but if she knew the best place to start, it’d be with cake. And cake from one very specific bakery; the one Tatum and Mady would go grab cupcakes from at least once a month. The detective popped into the bakery, a smile on her face as she took in a whiff of she sugary scents in the air. “Hi there, I’m actually looking to place an order for a birthday cake to be picked up March 8th, if you can.”

Wynnie smiled at the woman as she reached to pull out an order form and smiled  at the woman. She jotted down a few things before turning her attention back to the woman. “Can I get a name for the order? And any kind of special decorations you were looking to have?” Wynnie did always like taking orders, there was something very exciting about knowing what she was going to get to work on soon. “Oh and I’m Wynnie, I’m the assistant manager here.” She explained pointing at herself. 

Elliot steading himself, the woman’s words sounding like someone talking underwater to him for a moment before he latched onto what she was saying and grinned broadly despite the blood on his face. “Cruisin’ for a brusin’?” he had never actually heard someone say that and it was so distinctly American he couldn’t help but chuckle, “mmm, yes, that’s apparently all I’m good at lately, though, I think people really need to work on their,” he flourished his hand, several rings glinting in the dim light overhead, “sense of humor. S’okay,” a shrug of the shoulder said it didn’t really matter too much to him, probably because he’d just fuck it up again the next time he saw the piece of shit who’d punched him in the first place. He had a bad habit of burning bridges whenever he had the chance. “Should save your efforts for someone else, besides –– think I’ve only ever had vinegar to give.”

Cecelia came into the bakery with her three young children, her baby and toddler in the stroller and her five-year-old walking alongside her. Since the weather was slowly starting to warm up, they had enjoyed a short trip to the playground and Cecelia promised they’d stop in a bakery for a treat on their way home. “Hello,” the Englishwoman said, a smile on her facial features. “What kind of cookies do you recommend?” She asked, curious to hear the woman’s suggestions. “We’ve never been here before.” 

Wynnie looked at the other woman who seemed to have a small bundle of kiddies with her. Wynnie was always pretty good with children and she smiled warmly down at them. “Well that is all based on the sort of cookie you are cravin’ I personally love a fresh sugar cookie.” The ginger haired woman opened up a case and grasped a small butter cookie coated in sprinkles for the woman to sample. “But we got a bunch of butter cookies, and a mean snickerdoodle as well. Also chocolate chips. Those you can get 3 for 2.50, now to shabby.” She expressed tilting her chin up a bit. 

Aidan was not one to take a trip down to the local bakery. He’d hired personal chefs who had trained at the finest culinary schools in Paris who could whip up a pastry with a flick of his finger. He had been raised on such luxuries, so it was no surprise that he had given the same to his daughter. But he had to blame his ex-wife for using her sweet tooth to her advantage. Nowadays, all Rose wanted was the strudel from this little bakery that her mother had taken him to. So, there he was, walking into the bakery as per Claire’s instructions. “I’ll have a dozen of your apple strudel. Make it quick.” What an impolite asshole!

Wynonna looked over at him, “well, aren’t we cheerful this morning,” she said mostly under her breath. However she still managed to keep her warm southern smile as she turned to assemble a strudel box for him. People here were much more fast paced then they were back at home. Although Wynnie didn’t mind it it was certainly an adjustment she was making. She walked with the box over to a case. “You want strudels or danish?” She asked hoping for some clarification. 

David had just walked into bakery as the female already went forward to bombard him with questions. “I’ll take whatever you’re having with that energy of yours,” he responded before taking a small breath, cocking his head from side to side as he adjusted his coat a bit as his gaze wandered over the different pastries the bakery offered. He honestly didn’t exactly know what he wanted, just having that craving for something sweet. “I’ll have to return to work in a half an hour so maybe – something that doesn’t leave me with powdered sugar all over my black shirt.”

Naomi found herself mesmerized by sound of the drizzle outside combined with the smell of books that surrounded her shop. It hadn’t been three months since she had opened the book store and she already felt the need to put an ad for an assistant, since people always found their way in. She loved how people’s eyes sparked with joy, when she would assure them that she’d be able to find what they wanted. And at the same time, she loved how people looked around the book-shelves with a frustrated expression: should I buy this or that? Should I buy both? Can I reserve this? And if yes, how long?. She approached one of those people, the corner of her lip quirking up. “What can I help you with? Did you find what you’re searching?”

@cityofdreamsstarters​

Wynonna had entered the bookstore, pushing back her ginger hair as she entered. She looked at the stranger who greeted her. “Hey there, sorry I’m trying not to track in anything.” She explained as she looked down at her rain boots. She stepped inside looking around as she pressed her lips together and burred them. “Well the wifi at my place cuts in and out all the time so I figured instead of paying for an upgrade I should...maybe entertain myself the old fashioned way.” She nodded as she placed her hands on her hips. “So you got any suggestions? I’m open to anything...what is your favorite?” 

“Bloody fucking ––” Elliot had seen the fist coming, but watching it fly at him and feeling it crack against his fucking face were two very different things. He stumbled back, knocking several bottles over as he grabbed the edge of the bar with one hand while the other flew to his face. He couldn’t say he was confused by the punch itself.  He’d had a few drinks and maybe had made one tiny comment about the other man’s mother. Before he knew it, the son of a bitch was swinging at him.  Elliot tasted blood, whether it was from his lip or nose, he couldn’t tell. Spitting some out, his shoulders began to shake with…laughter? He waved away help. “It’s fine, I’m fine,” he managed between laughs, head thrown back in defiance, like the situation truly amused him despite the blood seeping from his face, “this complete fucking arsehole can’t take a fucking joke. So you know what?” He waved a hand at the perpetrator with almost wild abandon, “Fuck you and fuck. Your. Motherfucking. Mother.” The man swung at Elliot again and the youngest Windsor managed to stumble out of his way, barreling into another bar-goer instead. He swore as he grabbed onto their shoulder for support, almost falling over, “ahh, pardon me –– I don’t think I saw you there.” Was his nose broken? God he hoped not but wasn’t sure as he tasted that coppery flavor he’d only ever associated with blood. 

cc @cityofdreamsstarters​