• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Realistic or Modern — 𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆.

aeneas .

𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘵.
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)









scroll








the divorcée.



daphne.













mood

stressed.











outfit











location

school.











interactions

yvonne.











tags















With a swift— if not, a little frantic click of a button, Daphne locked the doors behind her sleek, silver, Ford Fusion as she navigated herself to the entrance of the elementary school in view. The mindless chatter of parents picking up their children made her even more hyper-aware of her surroundings than she was when she had left her studio. Carefree giggles, parents giving their kids a piggyback ride to their cars, the occasional thud-thud of a child's book-filled backpack. All would've been seen as good omens if it wasn't Daphne Ricaforte witnessing them. To her, they were the black cat crossing her path, a ladder she was walking under, and a broken mirror shattered by her own hands. It was her first time since her daughter's first day at preschool that she was picking her up from her school and she didn't want to already smell the rotting smell of failure by already comparing herself to the happy families who passed her by. She was probably overreacting, her darling Odette loved her, she would be over the moon to see her mother at school to pick her up.

Or at least that's what she hoped. The initial plan was to ease her kid into the new change; with the wounds of the divorce still healing, both she and Gavin agreed to co-parent and follow their previous routine while slowly allowing Odette to digest the new changes. Daphne followed through with her end of their setup of the week, spending sleepless nights learning how to make squid-shaped sausages for Odette's packed lunch and making use of her GPS to drive Odette to school. Gavin however, managed to call and claim to be "busy" (Daphne swore she heard the ambiance of a restaurant the more he sputtered around for an excuse) which put her into the position to do what was scheduled to happen in another week. Blood boiling anger would have consumed her if she wasn't stuck with such chilling anxiety for what was awaiting her behind the school's entrance doors.

Regret was a friend that followed Daphne since she balanced motherhood with her career; the balance being a generous word as her ex-husband would've described Daphne's scale to lean towards one more than the other. Her industry was hectic and once there was a time when the parenting dynamic the two had worked, where things went like clockwork and had their place together in the amalgamation of life. But parts rust and bolts fall, and Daphne learned that one of the silver linings of the end of something old is the beginning of something new. A start of school volunteering, class chaperoning, and the other activities parents did to be involved in the academic chapter of their children's lives. The change was good; her life had been much different from when she first had Odette and now she was in the position to even the scale.

She tried not to make her poor directional skills obvious to the passing elementary students and their parents as she walked along the glossy tiled halls. Right hallway down, first door to the left. Studying the text managed to pay off as she arrived at what she assumed to be her daughter's classroom when she saw the familiar face of Odette's friend from a playdate and her mother.

"Daphne, finally picking up Odette?" It was supposed to be a friendly jab— Daphne knew that with that from her crimson smile, yet it still stung. The conversation ended as quickly as it came, laughing, nodding, and agreeing to another meetup for their children. It acted as a finite distraction to the matter at hand, the door to the classroom left slightly open. Ripping off the bandaid, she patted down her skirt before walking into an awfully eccentric classroom, with her daughter standing in the middle of it, immersed in a rather lively-looking chat with her classmates. Always the center of attention her girl was.

The click of her heels brought the attention of her daughter away from her classmates and onto her mother, her smile only growing wider as she ran up to her. All the moths flying within Daphne's guts vanished into thin air when she saw the crooked smile of her little swan princess. The weirdly cruel looks she got from parents she didn't know the names of were the least of her concerns when all she could focus on was bringing her daughter in for a little merry-go-round spin in her arms.
"Surprised to see me?"
She could only laugh when she felt her daughter nod into her shoulder. As she put her little girl down as she was starting to feel embarrassed being carried in front of her friends, her eyes caught the attention of the woman in the front of the room.

Daphne didn't hear of a parent with pink hair but she did hear nonstop conversations from her daughter about a teacher. Ms. Lee was a topic of interest in the Ricaforte dining area, as Odette rambled on and on about her "super cool teacher!", it had always been in Daphne's mental checklist to finally put a face to the beloved name. The tug at her skirt brought her eyes back down to Odette. "You wanna meet Ms. Lee? C'mon, she's over there!" If her lingering eyes didn't give it away, her daughter pointing right at her teacher's direction surely did.

A sigh of concession escaped her lips.
"Alright, alright, if you wanted to stay a bit longer with your friends, you could just say so."
Her daughter only huffed as a response, quickly pushing her mother into the direction of her teacher. Kind and professional had been encoded into Daphne's system since she began her label, however, she still found herself clasping her hands together for comfort as she walked towards her daughter's teacher. She couldn't be any older than herself, youthful pale face and long pink hair cascading, all she expected and more through Odette's simple description of her being super cool.

Her hands were forced apart for Daphne to spare a wave and a smile.
"H— Hello!"
She already wanted to bite her tongue.
"I'm Daphne Ricaforte, Odette's mom. I believe we've never met— this is actually my first time picking her up and I thought I could take this moment to well— see how she's doing?"
There was a strain in the way her lips curled, an attempt to stay pleasant without revealing the sheepishness and bashfulness beneath. She understood that there was no need to fear judgment from the woman, but she found herself needing to add,
"I love your hair by the way."



♡coded by uxie♡
 



yvonne lee.





































  • mood



    curious... 👀
















Following three consecutive years of teaching, Yvonne Lee found herself among the dwindling percentage of educators who didn't possess nearly enough fingers on her hands to count all the reasons she loved her job. ’Give it a few years,’ she had been discouraged before by numerous senior colleagues, ’and you’ll get tired.’ But with what experience she had thus far, Yvonne couldn’t quite agree. She loved watching her students’ eyes brighten along with the lightbulb in their head when they finally understood a concept once foreign to them. She loved spending her days with kids who so easily soaked up new information like a sponge, and seeing the progress they made with that knowledge from the beginning to the end of the school year. She loved hearing the students fondly call ’Ms. Lee!’ whenever they wanted to flaunt their bad drawings or share a story. Needless to say, all the joys of her career could be summarized simply: Yvonne adored her students.

She would gleefully admit her opinion a hundred times — Yvonne adored her students, but their parents were an entirely different story. The difficult aspect of teaching was not supervising trouble-making children (which was hardly an issue she faced, anyway), as one would typically assume, but handling behavioral issues among adults. Far too many times had she met parents whose expressions twisted to dismay, as if the classroom was instructed by the devil himself, upon a hasty inspection of her clothes and the inked skin peeking out underneath them. Or, more frequently, they’d notice her youthful features and associate that with ignorance. Yvonne admitted she was a fresh face with much remaining to learn, but damn was it exhausting to end a long day being berated by a parent who stubbornly believed she was downright clueless.

Much to Yvonne’s gratitude, no such encounter occurred this particular afternoon. It was relatively peaceful inside of the classroom, with only the sounds of the whirring wind outside the opened windows and the quiet chatter of the students at the center of the room ridding the silence. Meanwhile, Yvonne’s attention was focused on the whiteboard at the front, where she carefully dragged an eraser across its surface to wipe away stray markings. At least, that’s what it appeared Yvonne was focused on, but she was truthfully eavesdropping on the children’s lighthearted conversation — something she was certain every teacher was guilty of. It was in the middle of overhearing little Carter complaining about soccer practice that the sound of clicking heels reverberated in the hallways, only growing louder in the seconds that passed. And within moments, the sound ceased as a woman stopped near the doorway.

Immediately, Yvonne’s brows slightly furrowed. Sufficient time passed for her to recognize the faces of parents, but the brunette’s features were completely unfamiliar. Was the administration already back to badger her? Yvonne’s question was rapidly answered at the sight of the woman rushing to embrace a student, Odette, warmly in her arms. Ah. So this must’ve been Daphne. Akin to her namesake, the brunette seemed like a legend stemming from mythos — Yvonne had heard so many tales about the woman from her daughter and ex-husband, but never once had she seen Daphne until now. From what she could tell, the woman was something of an Arachne — a weaver, specifically the best dressmaker as affectionately described by Odette; her flaw, on the other hand, was not so much pride, but her absence, as hinted several times by her ex-spouse.

Despite all she knew, Yvonne deterred bias from settling before even speaking to the woman. With the brunette turning in her direction, she raised a hand bearing an excessive number of silver rings up into a casual, yet amicable greeting. Her gaze lingered on Daphne’s face while she spoke, allowing Yvonne the opportunity to do one of her favorite things amidst speaking to parents: compare. Quickly, she deciphered that Odette must’ve gotten her eyes from her mother.
"Hello. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Odette has told me so many great things about you."
She purposely refrained from mentioning Gavin’s less flattering comments before the compliment came her way.

The corner of the teacher's lips tugged into a warm smile.
"Oh, thank you."
Her hand raised up to cotton candy colored locks, which were pulled back in a methodically messy bun with a claw hair clip. Shorter, loose locks framed the sides of her face. What most found equivalently interesting were Yvonne’s visible ears, with numerous matching piercings adorning them.
"But I can’t take all the credit. It was a class decision."
Precisely, the dye was the result of a counting exercise involving voting — the kids would learn not just math, but a term they’d coin as ’democracy’ far in the future.

Then came the inquiry every concerned parent asked. Yvonne was never one to sugarcoat her answers to parents, and in Odette’s case, there was no reason for her to.
"Odette is a joy to have in this class. She’s very bright, and as you can probably tell,"
her eyes drifted to Daphne’s daughter, once again huddled in the group of students,
"she gets along with everyone well."
A little hum rumbled in Yvonne’s throat as she wondered what else to add. Eventually, she decided to momentarily step over to her desk, digging through a stack of papers before returning in front of Daphne.

"I believe she wrote about you earlier today, actually."
The page was gently handed to the brunette. It was obviously a journal entry of sorts, with a large box for a drawing and wide lines to guide with writing.
"I’m sure she’s very happy you’re here to pick her up today."
And after a few moments, Yvonne glanced up from the written letters to the very woman the words concerned.

































alone with you



alina baraz










♡coded by uxie♡
 

aeneas .

𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘵.
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)









scroll








the divorcée.



daphne.













mood

oh? 👀











outfit











location

school.











interactions

yvonne.











tags















Conversations weren't an Achilles' heel Daphne possessed, quite the opposite. She found business conversation to be her element as it was easy for her to navigate all the needed talking points to get the information she needed. Talking to teachers on the other hand was rather tricky. Admittedly, she only ever talked to her daughter's teachers back when she was in kindergarten but shied away soon enough. She was a young mother at the time— she still was, and Odette's teachers seemed to persecute her like a criminal on trial whenever she stepped foot in her own daughter's classroom.

But Ms. Lee, from both the long tangents of her daughter and what she has perceived from standing in front of her, was much different. Her words of validation felt genuine rather than the previously pointed tones Daphne had grown accustomed to. The aesthetics the teacher showed through her cotton candy-toned hair, collection of silver rings gracing her fingers, and constellation of piercings had the dressmaker enamored and questioning her previous perceptions of elementary teachers. Or at least it made her question the nervous hesitation she felt with Yvonne specifically.

The stiffness gripping her joints softened as she fixed herself to stand in a more comfortable stance. Her smile mirrored the teacher's in warmth.
"That's adorable. I think I've heard some stories about all your other hair colors before from Odette."
Fondness couldn't help but seep out of her tone. Even times before the divorce, when Gavin would drop Odette off at Daphne's studio, she remembered all the times her daughter would give her updates on her favorite teacher's new hair color. She considered it cute when she first heard it but knowing that her daughter and her classmates decided the color made her heart warm.
"I adore the creative choice you've given them."


And when Ms. Lee went on to talk about her daughter, her smile could only grow. Like any parent, Daphne felt an unending amount of pride when it came to her daughter. Odette was her world, no dress nor client could ever outrank her daughter. Daphne followed the teacher's eyes when she looked towards Odette in her engaging conversation. There were no mentions of arguments, fights, or bullying which made Daphne feel lighter than before. She was Demeter and Odette was her darling daughter Persephone. The Earth would reap no bounty and become barren if anything was to ever happen to her child. Much like roses in her garden, Daphne was not afraid to bare thorns.
"She's takes it after her father, the two have always been social butterflies. I'm more of a reclusive spider."
Her voice remained neutral at her own mention of him, even giving a gentle laugh at her own comparison.
"I'm glad to know she's still fluttering those wings at school too."
The designer let out a little sigh of relief.

Her brows raised in surprise.
"Oh?"
There was a pinch of excitement that Daphne couldn't quite hide. Her french tips grazed the other's hand when she carefully took the paper. It was a journal entry where Odette highlighted her mother and her career. With an insanely colorful drawing of Daphne working on what she assumed to be a princess outfit of some sort. Odette was heavy-handed when it came to stickers and the new coloring marker set Daphne got her but it made her art all the more amazing in her mother's eyes. The smile on her face made her eyes crinkle and for a brief moment, she forgot where she was.

When she looked at Yvonne again, she couldn't help but laugh in an attempt to divert attention to how red her cheeks had gotten from her bashfulness. Daphne was never one to respond well to compliments no matter how forward or discreet they were.
"Thank you. You're too kind, Ms. Lee."
She sparred the drawing on more look before handing it back to the teacher.
"I'll have you know that I've heard far too many times that Odette sometimes would refuse to leave the classroom to talk to you awhile longer."
Daphne giggled at the idea of Gavin carrying her daughter out of the classroom.

When she and her ex-spouse first enrolled her into Ms. Lee's class, it took little to no time for Odette to latch onto her teacher. There were days when Daphne had to help scrub off the remains of Odette's fake tattoo sleeve. She said that 'I wanted to have a cool arm like Ms. Lee!' and like any little girl with a new set of coloring markers, she gave herself one. Daphne couldn't find it in her to be angry, it was creative. And after seeing the muse who kickstarted her occasional doodle-filled arm, Daphne couldn't find it in her to be angry with her either.
"I'm glad she has a teacher like you. You really inspire her."
In a scary industry such as fashion, compliments weren't an overflowing river that Daphne allowed everyone to drink from. But to Yvonne, she was sincere.


♡coded by uxie♡
 



yvonne lee.





































  • mood



    how sweet...
















From observation, Yvonne certainly agreed that Odette was quite the social butterfly, flitting within the classroom from one person to the next like a butterfly elegantly fluttering between budding spring flowers. However, Yvonne similarly found Odette reminiscent of the fragile insect’s predator: a little songbird. So bright and buoyant was Odette at the earliest of the morn, like the wrens and finches eager to stretch their wings and chirp to whomever may lend their ears to their melodious song. And chirping, Odette undoubtedly did.

By now, it was practically routine to listen to Odette chatter about the previous afternoon, her morning, or the very woman in front of her. There were staggering tales of the glamorous dresses her mother designed or the beloved celebrities she worked alongside, and then the more mundane retellings like her attempt to pack lunch. Emphasis on the word attempt, from what her daughter graciously implied. Unsurprisingly, it seemed that Odette babbled about her teacher as much as she did her parents. Her hair was quite a popular topic of discussion among parents and children, in ways both pleasant and unpleasant. With Daphne, she was relieved to find the former.

“Ah, my hair is nothing.”
A hand modestly waved the compliment aside. The utilization of her students truly was for their educational benefit, but the consequential application of the dye stemmed purely from boredom. Each new hair color was treated similarly to treading into a swimming pool of crystal blue. First there was Yvonne’s natural black, like the safety of the surface beyond the waters. Then, she tested those waters with warm caramel and blonde. From there, dyeing strips and pieces of hair myriads of colors was akin to approaching the deep end, and that she reached with locks entirely stained ruby red. Of course, there was some struggle with the sinking weight of administration on her back, but Yvonne managed to remain afloat. After crimson came ocean blue, then a split-dye, and finally cotton candy pink.

“I’d say their artwork and writing showcases the best of their creativity.”
Yvonne’s hands gently grasped the sheet handed back to her. Unfortunately, there were few other examples at hand. She always preferred papers to end up in the hands of parents rather than collect dust in her classroom. It was important for them to be just as aware of their child’s progress, after all.
“Odette has quite the active imagination at that. If she got her sociability from her father, then maybe her creative streak is from you.”
More often than not, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Some characteristics Odette embodied, she could already see in Daphne.

Particularly, kindness. Over the years, Yvonne had learned not to expect much from parents, but she couldn’t help the warmth brought to her by Daphne’s simple praise. Too many times had she been troubled with preposterous accusations and passive aggressive tones from adults who couldn’t accept their child’s faults or Yvonne herself. The change of pace was more than welcoming.
“I’m glad you think so. I’m sure you know how kids are…”
Momentarily, her eyes traveled back to the group a distance away.
“They’re at that stage where they need good models to follow, so I try my best.”
Yvonne’s gaze returned to Daphne.
“And I’m happy Odette feels that way. It’s children like her that make it easy to come here every morning.”


Leaving was the difficult part, not quite because of her attachment to her job, but for reasons that Daphne described herself. There were several instances where kids begged to stay in the classroom longer, whether it be because of their fondness for their teacher, or, much more sadly, there was nothing enjoyable about home. It broke her heart to consider what some kids had to deal with at such a young age.
"If she ever wants to stay a bit longer, it doesn't bother me. I normally don't leave until a bit after all the kids are gone."
She remembered telling the exact phrase to her ex-spouse. Still, it didn't stop him from practically dragging Odette out of the classroom at some point.

Speaking of Gavin, she quickly felt the same comfortability with Daphne that she did with him. It made the formalities feel a bit unusual, even if they were only expected, especially when she was staring back at a face that couldn't possibly be much older than her own.
"Yvonne is fine, by the way. It's alright if you call me that.
She preferred it, honestly, with the levelheaded adults. Yvonne felt it set them on more equal footing — she was just another average person happy to see the children succeed. For the more stubborn parents, though? Yvonne demanded a bit more respect.

Judging by her presence now, Yvonne hoped she wasn't incorrect to assume Daphne was embracing more responsibilities than before, particularly her involvement in Odette's academic life. She decided to test her inkling with a question.
"By any chance, have you considered coming to any school events? I believe there's a bake sale next week, and the PTA is happy to accept any help. I think I even remember something about a competition."
It was quite amusing seeing how fiery parents got over something so trivial. But if that inspired them to put their heart and soul into the cause, why would Yvonne stop them?
"It's understandable if you're busy, though. None of us would want to take you away from any important work you have."


































alone with you



alina baraz










♡coded by uxie♡
 

aeneas .

𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘵.
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)









scroll








the divorcée.



daphne.













mood

CEO of doing her best.











outfit











location

school.











interactions

yvonne.











tags















She smiled at the thought. One of the many intrusive thoughts she has accumulated while she spent her days cooped up in her office while Odette slowly grew up. Whether or not Odette would become a carbon copy of Gavin. Not that was a particularly bad thing (though Daphne was inclined to believe it was) but it implied that she would be nothing like her mother. For her mother was never there for her to learn from. As if her daughter's relationship with her own mother was slaughtered as an offering for her work and career. But for Yvonne to pair the two's creativity as one and the same visibly brightened Daphne.
"I think you're right."
With all the drawings decorating the halls of her home by her beloved daughter, there was no doubt Odette got her creativity from her mother.
"Gavin is God awful at arts and crafts."
Oh. She didn't mean to allow her thoughts to be spoken aloud, yet the laughter escaping after made her look even more guilty.
"I'm sorry that was inappropriate."
As her cheeks tried to cool down from the embarrassment her eyes lingered back to the drawing of Odette.

When she first had it in her hands, she didn't want to let go of it. There was a spot on the fridge ready for it to be displayed. Yet she was unsure if it was allowed to take home, perhaps Ms. Lee has yet to mark it.
"I know I might look like such a ditz right now, but have you already graded Odette's journal entry? It's very sweet and I'd want to display it as soon as I can."
If not, she would have to get Odette to bring it home, maybe they should stop by for ice cream before they went home. Just because it warmed her heart.

There was something about the teacher which kept Daphne entranced. Most definitely the fact that she was genuine. It made Daphne eat up every word, for she knew everything Yvonne said, she meant. It left her feeling at ease and content. Like she could put her trust in her and not fear it to be shattered into pieces. It was relieving to no longer have the little question on the back burner of her mind asking if Odette was okay at school. To not have to prepare to feel irked and offended when she entered her child's classroom because the teacher despised her youth.
"I appreciate your dedication. It's reassuring."
Her smile only softened further, smitten with the idea of Odette and her uncanny ability to brighten her day.
"Odette really is a treasure, I think the sun should envy the light she shines on other people."
It should. She has always believed that if the sun were gone tomorrow, her daughter's smile would be all the light she needed to go on with her day.

"It's sweet. I'm not against staying around school as long as she wants."
Her daughter's happiness came first. A simple motto, yet absolute. Just by the woman she stood before, Daphne found it easy to trust her and discovered the idea of sitting at a bench or in her car while she waited for her daughter.
"I'm just glad she has a teacher as nice as you are, some of her old teachers in the past have genuinely scared me. I felt like a kid again being reprimanded just by their stare."
She couldn't help but shiver at the thought.

"Yvonne."
She tested the name on her lips, pleased with how pleasant it sounded.
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Yvonne."
To some it meant being a grace of God, to others, a warrior, an archer. In a way, they all fit the imagery of the woman in front of her. She was everything her name described her to be and more.

Daphne perked up at the offer only to immediately pale after. She was hoping to ask about school involvement activities parents could be a part of. Gavin himself was part of the PTA so she knew there were little festivities in place. But baking. Any form of cookery seemed to be her weak point. As if her body had rejected the idea of staying in a kitchen to cook for it was easy for her to set it ablaze.
"A bakesale you say?"
Logic and desire had a battle within her brain. She didn't know anyone from the PTA besides her ex-spouse, he had the tendency to gate away aspects of his school involvement as a way to fester guilt in her guts.
"I'm not the best at baking, quite the opposite really. But I don't see why not!"
Daphne hoped to stay optimistic.
"It'll be fun."
It gave Odette and her something to bond over she supposed.

For a moment she hesitated, attempting to construct her words to not sound pressing. She was just curious after all.
"Will you be there?"
It was a genuine question.
"It's just that this is just my first time here and it would be nice to see a friendly face. I have yet to earn the likings of many of the other parents here."
Most other parents she met were only in brief minutes as they dropped off their kid at her place for a playdate or vice versa. She never lingered nor did they.
"I need all the support I can get if I'm competing against parents with baking history on their belts."



 



yvonne lee.





































  • mood



    is this convincing enough?
















As the age-old saying went, "do not judge a book by its cover." Even so, a novel's front cover emanated quite the first impression — one that was more favorable than not upon encountering Daphne. Despite her self-proclaimed admittance of ditziness, Yvonne perceived quite the opposite. The brunette appeared like quite a composed, eloquent woman from her coordinated style and articulate verbal mannerisms. It was rather impressive how effortlessly poetic phrases seemed to roll from her tongue, though she supposed love always inspired the most prolific of poets — in this particular case, the motherly affection to one's beloved daughter. Regardless, Yvonne had flipped past the introductory pages and realized she quite enjoyed the contents concealed beyond the cover.

That said, Yvonne hoped to steer clear of unintentionally upsetting a parent who possessed enough decency to overlook her own initial impression. Wishing to maintain a polite disposition, she managed to suppress a laugh at Daphne’s quip directed to her former spouse. Years of teaching and surrounding herself around young children assisted Yvonne in mastering the technique of keeping a straight face; otherwise, it encouraged misbehavior in specific kids. However, she couldn’t help the way the corners of her lips cracked into a smile to acknowledge the woman’s humor, at the very least.
“It’s alright, really.”
She noticed the faint pink hue dusting her cheeks and hoped to relieve Daphne of some embarrassment. Personally, Yvonne didn’t care to keep conversation so serious unless it was necessary.
“You don’t need to apologize. I’d rather you speak your mind freely.”


Yvonne’s gaze drifted back down to the sheet gently grasped between her fingers after it returned to her attention.
“Well...”
Instead of offering a direct answer, she raised the page, and her eyes noticeably flicked over the writing scrawled on the paper. Within seconds, it was handed back to the writer’s mother.
“It looks good to me. You can take it with you.”
Although journal entries were graded, Yvonne was never particularly harsh. As long as students participated, she was happy to return scores of one hundred back, even if she marked some minor spelling and grammar corrections on the page. After all, it seemed cruel to dock points off for incorrectly utilizing concepts so freshly implanted in their head or entertain the possibility of a child stressing over grades already.

The only stress children in her class should’ve been experiencing was perhaps deciding what game to play in the playground, which made it quite dismaying to hear about some frightening teachers. If an adult was uttering such a thing, then surely the feeling was tenfold for a child. Worst of all, Yvonne couldn’t even say she was surprised to hear such a tale.
“I’m sorry you’ve had experiences like that.”
Her lips were pressed into a thin frown, but they momentarily parted to release a gentle sigh.
“Unfortunately, I know what you mean. Some other teachers are a bit rude, even to me.”
However, Yvonne didn’t particularly feel small beneath their gaze. Just somewhat perplexed with their mentality, if anything. Soon, a reassuring smile rose to her features.
“I wouldn’t take it too personally though. They’re just...”
She had to pause to prevent herself from accidentally slipping out any colorful language.
“They’re just like that.”


There was little to nothing Yvonne could do to change their abhorrent attitude, but at least she could give Daphne a better experience now. First in this very classroom; next at whatever upcoming events the school arranged, including the proposed bake sale. With the young mother admitting her subpar baking skills, Yvonne was already anticipating the idea to be rejected… Much to her surprise, she received quite the opposite response. A raised brow silently indicated her astonishment, but soon it lowered as one of the teacher’s characteristic grins reappeared.
“You won’t need to make anything too fancy. I’m sure there are some videos online that shouldn’t be too hard to follow if you need ideas.”
After all, it was supposed to be just the average bake sale, not The Great British Bake Off — though, some passionate parents certainly acted like it was.

… Which quickly reminded Yvonne of what the PTA expected of her. She nodded in response to the taller brunette’s question.
“Yes, I’ll be there. They wanted me to help with organization.”
However, Yvonne was considering bringing some baked goods of her own… but that truthfully depended on how much spare time and motivation she had.
“I think they just want me there to be an unbiased judge for their competition, though.”
This time, Yvonne was only half-joking, but she chuckled nonetheless.
“But if you do decide to show up...”
The volume of her voice suddenly lowered, as if she was sharing an important secret.
“I’ll be your number one supporter.”


A playful glimmer sparked in Yvonne's dark eyes while her tone readjusted to normal.
“... But don’t tell anyone I said that.”


































alone with you



alina baraz










♡coded by uxie♡
 

aeneas .

𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘵.
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)









scroll








the divorcée.



daphne.













mood

baking mama.











outfit











location

school.











interactions

yvonne.











tags















There was a realm of comfort that slowly took form the more Daphne spoke to Yvonne. Much like the shade of the teacher's hair, it was cotton candy. Like confections. Sweet. She noticed it being her own repeated descriptor in her vocabulary. It seemed to be the only word that could possibly describe all that had fallen before her, all the news she was hearing, it was overwhelming but at the same time something she'd want to indulge in more often. Her barricade of professional pleasantries began to crumble when she caught glimpse of the way Yvonne's lip twitched into a hidden smile at her joke. It both provided the show of their casualness and the reassurance that Gavin didn't hold the power she believed he did on the faculty.

She chooses to laugh freely, still a bit bashful but less awkward.
"Now I'm starting to feel like one of your students. But thank you."
Daphne lightly covered her mouth with her manicured hand to suppress another laugh, both at her god-awful joke and herself. As it meets the side of her hip once more, a smile is in replacement.
"I'll try not to hold my tongue but this could be a warning. Some say Odette's sharp tongue comes from me."


A happy hum escaped from her lips when she got her daughter's journal again. It was definitely going on the fridge.

It was a relief to know that Yvonne was much different from any of the other teachers she had encountered in her past. From her words, Daphne found similarities with their experiences. It was safe to assume that Yvonne was no stranger to prudish, older teachers. She was—for the lack of better words, fiery. Anybody could see that she had the ability to breathe new life into the classroom. That students took more interest in engaging with a welcoming individual with eccentric hair and a plethora of piercings than one who stuck by the book and was disinterested in change. There was a charisma to her that was unrivaled to anyone Daphne had ever met. A reassuring presence that all teachers should be she quickly concluded.
"Well if it holds any merit, I think you're an amazing teacher. And a lot of the other parents think so."
Although she lacked the socializing skills in talking with some of the other parents, she recalled the times her ex-spouse recalled to her some of the PTA's views on the teacher once upon a time. Albeit the information is from a few months prior, she was sure the opinions still stood.

Perhaps being a housewife was never in the cards for Daphne as anything she'd try to create while in the kitchen met a crisp end. Not crisp in a way fried chicken should be or the crust of a pie. But crisp ash and burns. Occasionally to the point where Odette has memorized the number of the local fire department and has even made friends with some of the firefighters who needed to be brought into the house. If Daphne wasn't blinded by the desire to be more involved with her daughter's school life, she'd find an excuse to decline the invitation. Unfortunately, like any mother who had been considered to be absent for a period of time, Daphne felt like she had something to prove.
"Off to Pinterest I go."
She smiled and laughed as if she was telling a joke but she knew it to be true. Motherhood taught her that Pinterest is her new best friend. Though any of the recipes she'd find never would turn out the way the app's aesthetically pleasing photos displayed them to be.

The reassurance of the other's attendance gave her much-needed ease. It was as if she was a new student at a new school and she immediately attached herself to the first friend she made.
"I never knew an elementary bakesale could be so competitive that they need to have a judge."
Perhaps she was biting off more than what she could chew but an underlying feeling in her gut was telling her that this was a good entrance to the school life here. Who cared if her cookies would turn out a bit burnt? Odette would have fun making them nonetheless.

Yvonne continued and as she lowered her voice to tell her little secret, Daphne could at first do nothing but blink in process of the words.

"I’ll be your number one supporter.”

The show of support even before the event came to be left the designer at a loss for words. The simple phrase alone supported her previous judgments on the teacher. She was kind, perhaps even heavenly if Daphne found the bakesale to be her own personal hell. Cheeks tinted— though could be played off as her blush-on, Daphne's smile only grew in softness. Sweet.
"I'll be sure to be there then."
The smile then matched the other's playful flare as she put her hand on her chest saying,
"I won't tell a soul. Maybe your favoritism will gift me the skills to win. Everyone loves an underdog story."
It wasn't likely. Daphne would honestly just be glad to bring something remotely appetizing.
"Odette and I will try our best, I don't want to poison you just as I get to know you."
A light chuckle rang out.

"Do you have any favorite baked goods? I must use this bit of favoritism to my advantage afterall."



 



yvonne lee.





































  • mood



    baking genius.
















Like mother, like daughter. Like son, like father... Similar phrases often resurfaced in Yvonne's mind upon meeting the parents of her beloved students and recognizing what was practically a replica of their younger counterparts. She easily noticed the derivatives of Odette's features in her mother: deep, chocolatey brown eyes, the texture of her hair, the curve of her lips when they upturned in a smile... But imperceptible to Yvonne's scrutiny was the woman's supposed sharp tongue, the revelation of which had her brow quirking upwards in a somewhat surprised, albeit intrigued manner. Yvonne only perceived an air of kindness from the woman before her, but she supposed she could've deemed the same to the brunette's precious child. To her, Odette was akin to a budding rose — a ripening flower enveloped in sharp little thorns, though Yvonne didn't mean that negatively.

So saccharine was Odette's charming style and bright smile, but it was not without bite. On far too many occasions, Yvonne had to prevent herself from chuckling upon hearing one of the girl's clever quips. After all, it was still her responsibility to set a good example for the children, regardless of how amusing certain comments she overheard were. All that being said, it was difficult to believe in Daphne's self-proclaimed "sharp tongue" with how easily compliments slipped from her mouth. It was never her intention to fish for compliments from parents, but that didn't make the amiable words any less pleasant to her ears. Perhaps it would take a push of Daphne's buttons to face any bitter criticism evoked from this tongue of hers, which of course, Yvonne had no intention of purposely inciting from her.

The pink-haired woman's amicable smile never quite faltered, remaining modest.
“That's very kind of you to say.”
Of course Daphne's opinion held merit, as miniscule as it might've seemed. A single comment from a parent truly had the power to make or break her career, though Yvonne wasn't acting considerate just for her job. Simply, she liked to think she was a considerate person in general.
“I've always enjoyed meeting parents. It's not my intention to start a compliment battle, but I'm glad to see that Odette is in good hands.”
It was one thing for parents to be judgmental, but worse than that were parents who didn't seem to care whatsoever for their child. Sure, Yvonne had heard some complaints from her former spouse, but Daphne hardly seemed neglectful. Just occupied.

But not occupied enough to miss the bake sale, it seemed, despite Daphne's initial hesitance. It was a bit remarkable, in Yvonne's opinion, seeing her willingness to appear in spite of her culinary drawbacks. Some parents would quickly utilize it as a reason to stay home.
"Pseudo judge."
Hopefully the unofficial description would ease the brunette the slightest.
"It's their way of adding some fun, I'm guessing. Joining the competition isn't mandatory from what I heard, so it's all up to you."
Surely the devoted competitors wouldn't mind a smaller participant pool.
"But... I will say that I'm not a very difficult person to impress, if you decide to participate too."


It was an unsurprising characteristic for a teacher of her kind, naturally. Of course she was impressed by little Victoria showcasing a painted horse that appeared more like a blob than an animal or troublesome Nicholas miraculously getting a plastic toy stuck to the highest ceiling. Likewise, examining the baked goods at the sale would've sparked the same genuine, awed glimmer in the dark pools of her eyes. The prospect of food poisoning, although not something that dazzled Yvonne in the same way, elicited a melodious chuckle from her lips.
"I'll trust that you won't immediately poison me. It may be difficult to do that, honestly. More people tend to overcook than undercook."
As long as Daphne remembered to set a timer on her phone, she was sure whatever she baked would turn out perfectly fine, at least in terms of how well it was cooked. Flavour? That entirely depended on the brunette's decisions.

What Yvonne hadn't anticipated was for her to select an item for Daphne.
"Oh?"
A look of mild surprise would strike her expression, only to mellow back into a smile.
"You really are using your opportunities to your advantage. How wise."
A teasing edge lingered in her tone with the words, her hand shortly raised to tap at her chin in thought. The teacher's brows would furrow deep in thought. Macarons were always a common favorite, including one of Yvonne's own... But that would be a bit difficult to bake, wouldn't it be? She wouldn't purposely set Daphne up with a challenge difficult for a beginner to achieve. But... there was something else in mind. With a new light shining in her eyes, Yvonne slipped her hand from her chin.

"Brownies."
The single word was uttered as if it was the most ingenious thing.
"Who doesn't love brownies? Trust me. Make some good ones, and the kids will love you."


































alone with you



alina baraz










♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:

aeneas .

𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘵.
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)


















scroll
















the divorcée.






daphne.


























mood


this was... pleasant






















outfit






















location


school.






















interactions


yvonne.






















tags






























Poisoning one of—if not the only welcoming face at her daughter's elementary school would be the cruelest joke the fates could ever play on her. It would be a twisted retelling of Snowhite except she would be the "evil" mother who had managed to bake something completely inedible. No cursed apples nor magic mirrors just burnt baked goods and a blazing kitchen. If she'd actually do that much damage at her first-ever school event, it would definitely set the impression Gavin embedded about her in stone for everyone.
"Hopefully the baking gods will take pity on me."
It was another joke but there was an underlying truth. She needed all the help she could get, really.

Her hand met her hip.
"What can I say, I love to please."
Years in the fashion industry can do that to a person. Take an opportunity and seize it, ask for preferences before you begin, and take note of it all. Maybe there was an underlying softness that also came into consideration before Daphne asked, but no one can really blame her. She wanted to at least give her daughter's favorite teacher something she'd actually enjoy. The rationalization still didn't stop the underlying heat she felt seep into her cheeks at Yvonne's tease.

"Brownies."

"Brownies?"


Brownies.

Daphne could probably make some brownies. How hard is it? She remembered how her mother used to make them when she wanted to feel like a housewife who didn't have a nanny. Keep in mind that out of the two of them, Daphne attempted to take a baking class fresh out of college and her mother's only genuine experience baking was watch The Great British Bake-off during her free time. The Ricaforte family never really did homecooked meals or anything like that, there had always been people to do that for them. Where her parents had housekeepers, Daphne had DoorDash and restaurants. And with brownies, if they are crispy on the sides, it's generally considered a good thing for people. As long as they turn out a chocolate brown and not a charcoal black, they would be completely fine. It would be too idealistic of her to try and win the bake sale, getting participation recognition was enough.

If she managed to sell one brownie with Odette, it would be as good as a gold medal in her book. As if elementary bakesales had gold medals anyway. Unless they did? It was starting to become painfully clear that Daphne still didn't quite know what to expect, not even her own elementary school—or any school she went to for her education did bakesales. This was a whole new territory for her to walk into and it was admittedly a bit overwhelming. It was her first time picking up Odette from school and it felt as if she had just tried swimming in the ocean and suddenly she's drifted away from shore; struggling to float in the middle of an ocean of motherhood. It was pure luck that Yvonne has thrown her a lifeline.

The kindness she had been shown thus far only pushed her to try her best in the next hurdle. No matter how talentless she was at baking. The reassurance turned what would've been a damsel-esque cry for help into a determined smile.
"Brownies are a great choice, I can do brownies."
By saying it, she hoped that she could manifest the skill from the ether.
"I think it'll be fun for Odette and I to try and make. And it wouldn't hurt to build good relationships with the other people in her class."
She already knew that she had a lot of Youtube videos and Pinterest recipes to look up. It was going to be a long day yet Daphne couldn't find it in her to feel dread. As daunting as the challenge was, it was destined to be a great mother-daughter bonding activity, which was the point of the activity to begin with.

Lost in both thought and her conversation with Yvonne (and maybe a bit of looking into the other's eyes) she didn't notice her daughter return from her little playdate with her friends who had since gone with their parents. How long were Yvonne and her talking? Surely not long. The tiny tug she got on her skirt from her daughter made her meet her child's doe-like eyes. "Are you guys done yet? There's nothing to do anymore..." Her words came out as mumbles, clearly embarrassed from getting in-between the conversation of the two women. Daphne could only smile at the sight, looking back to Yvonne clearly amused with her daughter's antics.
"I think all my questions have been answered and our chat has been... fun, right?"
As the reclusive spider she described herself to be, attempting to trade her silked webs for butterfly wings was... nice. Pleasant. Perhaps she could get used to the feeling, it was much different from her past interactions with basically anyone outside of her work.

What she said next was out of impulse.
"Would you like my number? Or my e-mail?"
The words felt awkward on her tongue, like the way a teenager would stumble on their words in the attempts to have a prom date. It was unlike her.
"That's something parents do, right? Just so we could stay in touch or if anything comes up."
Her additional justification was just as fumbling and just as quick. Maybe it was just the jitters of not knowing what else to do, it wasn't like she wasn't going to be picking up Odette more often if her ex-spouse continued to be unpredictable.
"I'm still a bit new."





 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top