Location: Flint And Vanity Wedding Status: Open For Everyone

She stayed until she saw the expression of horror on Charity's face. That made it oh so worth it. With satisfaction she thought that the blonde got what she deserved. Her high didn't last long as Charity followed her into the hallway, a crowd forming due to their argument. People couldn't help but be nosey. "You are trying to take what's mine! You're the used goods." She scoffed, shaking her head. "I am not desperate! He likes me! Not you!" The retourt came automatically, fully believing her own words. Never having been in a physical fight before she hadn't expected Charity to punch her, much less in the face. A scream of pain left her lips as her eyes started to well up with tears. "Salazar! What is wrong with you? You're crazy! You ruined my face!" Serra started to panic, barely seeing where she was walking due to the tears, trying to make her way to the hospital wing when she ran into a chest, the smell familiar. Malcolm. What was he doing here? He couldn't see her like this! Her voice whiny and barely comprehensible to due to the crying. "Don't look at me!"

She was very much used to being called names, insults didn't hit that hard these days for she'd learned that biting back was immensely more fun. Serra was the kind of person who believed herself to be above others, as though they were better just for the sake of it, and the witch had called her ugly many times, so when the new insults flowed from her lips, it did Charity no harm. It wasn't so until she looked up and saw her hair in the mirror, the last straw as she'd take no more mistreating on her part, not when she held the upper hand this time. The witch followed the other into the hallway, her voice loud for everyone to hear. "Wow, cheap, easy, desperate. Darling, are you sure you're not referring to yourself? Easy to get flustered, cheap enough to want used goods and desperate to go back to someone who's clearly not into you." She took a step further, grabbing Serra by the arm and forcing her to turn around and face her. "You're thinking he went for the ugly one, right? Let me help you then, become the ugly one instead." She mused, a smile flashing on her lips right in time as her fist came in touch with her nose, a nice strong blow.

Serra jumped back as the ferret made contact with her shoes, shrieking. "Get that thing off of me." She wasn't good with animals, they had too much fur and it got everywhere. And she had a bad experience with a cat once. "I don't like anything with more than two legs. It's eyes are creepy too."

"She's not a thing, she's a ferret!" Clyde protested, not bothering to stop Bonnie from running over to sniff at Serra's shoes. There was absolutely nothing wrong with ferrets. Bonnie had all her shots and was the most well-behaved affectionate little thing. Why would Serra hate her? "What have you got against her, then?"

Serra's dress for her birthday party, featuring an unnecessarily long train

"I know what I want and what I am worth. I do not see it as boldness if it is factually accurate, which I believe it to be." Serra informed him with a matter of fact tone, keeping eye contact with him and not shying away from it. "It is something I would promise because I know I am capable of being everything." Growing up with a silver spoon and being told that she was perfect day in and day out left its mark on her. "You do not scare me, if I make demands I suppose you making some would be fair as well. As long as there is no one else." Serra did not know what she was talking about, acting like she had more experience than she actually did. She'd been with all but two guys before.

Kissing him back she was infatuated, it made her feel important and powerful knowing that he wanted her. "I have not asked you to apologise. Your experience is something that is far preferable to someone my age that is inexperienced. I do know that I am beautiful."

"You should know that I will not be waiting around forever. If you choose to go for someone else and satisfy your curiosity elsewhere I will make my choice as well. I am in my prime and you are not my only option." She was not willing to wait around like a fool waiting for him to choose her. "You either choose me or you don't. But you don't get to come back if you don't choose me in the first place. I am no second choice nor am I a consolation prize."

He brushed his hand against her cheek. “You are even more bold than I thought.  Are you saying you will be all they are and more is that something you would promise?  It’s a lot for one so young and inexperienced.”  He held her face so she couldn’t look away. “You have been bold so I will too. I am a crass thing with certain appetites, I didn’t want to subject you to anything you might not be ready for make demands of you that were too physical.  A kiss, an embrace are pleasant but I’m talking about more than that, not eventually now.  It isn’t much time and it is an unfair demand, but I feel an equal one to severing ties that I have developed, turning all focus to you. It’s only fair I tell you what I would that focus would entail unless you discover yourself repulsed by my desires. We are both people of certain tastes, and I feel once I have tasted you I will want more..” He kissed her, the reason might be colored by her response, but for now he used the gesture to speak to his point. It was a thing of lust rather than love, something to entice as well as sample.  “One may only be around pretty things for so long without sampling or spoiling them, and though I pride myself on many things, chastity is not one of them, but I don’t apologize for that.  From the beginning I have told you that I am dark and cruel, but you are smart enough to know that you are physically desirable.  Attractive as well as beautiful.”  Her rubbed his thumb across her lips, more a gesture of desire than intimacy. “” “I won’t make you promises I have no intent to keep, but if I can’t have you now, fully and without reservation, or a way to expel desires that would make me present an indecorous image. I will come to you when I’m more available, ready to endure the triteness of a chaste courtship assuming we are both still interested and available of course.  Maybe by then you will know the duality required to maintain a perfect appearance.”

"Good." She was pleased, happy that there was one of the few people she actually liked present. "Why? What else have you got in mind?"

"I wouldn't have missed it, silly." Lydia said with a smile. This party was huge, maybe more than even Lydia would've preferred, but everyone did seem to be having a good time. "This isn't the only thing you're doing for your birthday, is it?"

She crossed her arms when he rambled on, raising her eyebrows, her expression showing her impatience. She didn't know what he was trying to get at and she was sick of waiting. "We were what?" A frown came onto her face, clearly confused. What was he talking about? Surely she'd know if she had been engaged? "This is not the time to make jokes Malcolm." They were engaged. Past tense. They are engaged? Present tense. Merlin, her head was starting to hurt. "Options? What options? Are you going to 'fix things' without my knowledge or input again? I really don't understand what you're aiming for. Why send me all these gifts? To ease your guilt?"

"No, no, I mean—I've been trying to—" he began poorly, then stopped when she asked him to draw out the question. A question he had spent years practicing for, if this conversation ever happened. And no matter how many times he'd rehearsed it in his mind, nothing compared to this. There was no undoing what he'd said, the slip already out. Malcolm could try to obliviate her, but even the thought darkened his face. He dropped his gaze as if the ground held the answer. "Yes, we were engaged once," he said, his tone devoid of warmth. "But I was able to fix it." Malcolm knew he'd been a stupid kid then, not thinking clearly, overwhelmed by choices and deciding for them, for their future. At the time, it felt best, but he wondered if avoiding the circumstances then had cost them a better present. "This isn't how I wanted to tell you. Any of this…But please," he said, reaching for her hand. "We can look at options."

Serra had known that her cousin getting married was going to be a big event, what she hadn't expected was to be arriving engaged to Malcolm Parkinson. The last month had gone by in a whirlwind and she had done well to keep distance, after what Evan had told her she had been upset. Malcolm was seeing Charity again-still? She wasn't sure, but either way she hated it. However, she did not want him to know she cared so much. It would give him the upper hand. Right now he didn't know that she knew, but that would soon change. Would he lie to her? Pretend it wasn't true? Or would he own up to it? It took her a moment to think, too caught him in her revenge fantasies against a certain blonde. "More." They weren't poor after all, they could afford a big wedding. It was a status symbol. Plus more guests meant more presents. "I know. I always do." She touched the necklace for a moment. It had been on her pile of birthday presents, once she had opened the box she knew she had to wear it, it was as if she was drawn to it more than normal. Serra wasn't sure if he was the one that got her the necklace, but due to his compliment she assumed. He did know her taste pretty well by now and unfortunately she knew his too. "We should discuss the guest list. I want the final say about it. I'm not letting your mistress get anywhere near the place."

where: agatha and emir's wedding; reception who: @serraborgin

Though they agreed on being engaged, their correspondence was mostly about the wedding planning as it was now a rush. Still, he did his best not to look behind him, but someone could've counted at least two dozen times throughout the night. She looked good even in the bridesmaid color that Agatha had chosen. Malcolm knew which colors looked best on her and this was not even in the top five. One of his favorite colors on her was the warm blush that met her cheeks when he used to give her the finest compliments. Malcolm saw her alone near the bar and took the opportunity to plunge forward. "Should we have more or less people at our ceremony?" Malcolm smiled as he stepped over. "Hi. You look great tonight. I love the necklace." It wasn't one of his, but it still fell over her neck, her collarbones in the best way.

status: for @fcrox (Leta) location: Madame Malkins

When she left London she'd been bored, a tad embarrassed but mostly bored. Things with Antonin ended amicably, with neither of their reputations catching strays. She felt lucky that this wasn't like the last time her relationship imploded. Definitely less humiliating. As the season was changing she wanted to commission a new dress at Madame Malkins, plus she wanted to go and see Leta as the other woman had played a role in the internship Serra had. While working at a shop didn't seem appealing to her, designing dresses and coming up with concepts was fun and she had enjoyed it more than she thought she would've. "Leta. I wanted to inquire about your workload in the coming weeks. Is there any way you could make the dress I am working on?"

"Next time you have to come with me. We can stay at my house, go shopping together, eat french pastries..." It would be a fun thing to do, to show Willa around the town she had enjoyed so much.

"I don't know. Maybe? My parents certainly think it is time. They wanted to invite him to my birthday party, can you believe that?" She scoffed, shaking her head. He had broken her heart, all those years ago. "He did look quite handsome. And I do enjoy the presents..but he embarrassed me terribly back at Hogwarts."

Willa sighed, a slight hint of jealousy as Serra described her experiences in Paris. It was notable to many that while Willa had free reign to avail of the Bulstrode last name, their funds weren't quite as easily accessed. Despite how much Willa would have longed to visit her friend in Paris, it wasn't quite in sight.

At Serra's depiction of her run in with Malcolm, she took a sip of her tea, eyebrows raised ever so slightly. "Are you thinking of forgiving him?" Willa asked, slightly intrigued for Serra's response. "If I were you, I would wait to see him on his knees."