![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: What Not To Wear
Author: seraphcelene
A/N: set pre-Birthday. 580 word flash fic. Really quick and spontaneous. Un-beta'ed so watch your fingers.
Summary: She has hips now -- earth mother, den mother, mother goddess -- curves.
She has hips now -- earth mother, den mother, mother goddess -- curves and she doesn't know exactly how that happened. She's perfect for the part, of course. She’s the glue, the center, the only girl for a long time until Fred, slightly broken, still fragile Fred, came along. And Fred, as it turns out, is just another soul to sooth, a babe in the woods, another pup to corral. Her purpose fits tight like the skin on a hot dog, almost too snug and sometimes she wonders if she will burst with the effort it takes to keep them all together.
Cordelia turns, looks over her shoulder to check her reflection from the back. She admires the fall of the skirt across her butt, the strength of her calf in stiletto heels.
Another turn and she stands with her hands down at her sides.
“Mom hips. When did that happen?”
Her eyebrows surge up into her hairline. Of course, I was pregnant that one time, she thinks. Not that I actually gave birth and it was a weird, mystical, magical, cracker jack surprise kinda pregnancy anyway.
Cordelia sighs. Too many episodes of What Not To Wear were slowly driving her crazy, even if it was just a TV show. It’s not that she’s fat, far from it. Her body is just different than it was and she's not going to walk out of her room looking like one of those women in their cheap, tight, wrong color, poorly cut ensembles. Even if she can't afford to shop anywhere besides Wal-Mart.
"Stand up straight. Shoulders back," Cordelia chants. "Accentuate the good parts, hide the bad." Her shoulders fold forward despite her mantra and she reaches down to remove the shoes. She holds them, strokes the soft leather. “So deliciously fashionable.”
Cordelia throws one shoe at the mirror and watches it thud against the glass and bounce to the floor.
Once upon a time Cordelia Chase didn't have any bad bits. Not a single one. She used to be lithe and curvy, long legged and big breasted. Hair like Rapunzel when she let it grow long: thick, rich, worthy of a shampoo commercial, mahogany-colored hair.
Now she's got hips and her hair is lopped off just below her ears because it's easier to wash out the demon gunk.
These days she’s always covered with brain goo, demon goo, blood and viscera, bits of the un-nameable and unmentionable. There always seems to be a hole at the neck of her sweater, or the hem of her t-shirt, seams unravel, blood stains are almost impossible to get out and the whites never stay white for long. What was the point in expensive, designer anything?
With a violent tug the dress comes off, up over her head, hair left to stand wildly on end. Cordelia pulls on a white t-shirt, no holes, fairly stainless and black cotton pants, comfortable, easy to wash. The stilettos go back into their box, back into the closet, replaced by athletic socks and trainers.
“An outfit perfect for baby duty,” she says and twirls once to check out her reflection. “Ugh,” she grimaces. “Definitely not Rodeo Drive.”
She waves a hand at her reflection.
“Eh, it’s my birthday,” she says with a shrug. “Downstairs there’s cake and plenty of baby kisses.”
She heads for the door to her room, snags a gray hoodie from the back of the arm chair as she leaves.
“What more does a girl need.”
Author: seraphcelene
A/N: set pre-Birthday. 580 word flash fic. Really quick and spontaneous. Un-beta'ed so watch your fingers.
Summary: She has hips now -- earth mother, den mother, mother goddess -- curves.
She has hips now -- earth mother, den mother, mother goddess -- curves and she doesn't know exactly how that happened. She's perfect for the part, of course. She’s the glue, the center, the only girl for a long time until Fred, slightly broken, still fragile Fred, came along. And Fred, as it turns out, is just another soul to sooth, a babe in the woods, another pup to corral. Her purpose fits tight like the skin on a hot dog, almost too snug and sometimes she wonders if she will burst with the effort it takes to keep them all together.
Cordelia turns, looks over her shoulder to check her reflection from the back. She admires the fall of the skirt across her butt, the strength of her calf in stiletto heels.
Another turn and she stands with her hands down at her sides.
“Mom hips. When did that happen?”
Her eyebrows surge up into her hairline. Of course, I was pregnant that one time, she thinks. Not that I actually gave birth and it was a weird, mystical, magical, cracker jack surprise kinda pregnancy anyway.
Cordelia sighs. Too many episodes of What Not To Wear were slowly driving her crazy, even if it was just a TV show. It’s not that she’s fat, far from it. Her body is just different than it was and she's not going to walk out of her room looking like one of those women in their cheap, tight, wrong color, poorly cut ensembles. Even if she can't afford to shop anywhere besides Wal-Mart.
"Stand up straight. Shoulders back," Cordelia chants. "Accentuate the good parts, hide the bad." Her shoulders fold forward despite her mantra and she reaches down to remove the shoes. She holds them, strokes the soft leather. “So deliciously fashionable.”
Cordelia throws one shoe at the mirror and watches it thud against the glass and bounce to the floor.
Once upon a time Cordelia Chase didn't have any bad bits. Not a single one. She used to be lithe and curvy, long legged and big breasted. Hair like Rapunzel when she let it grow long: thick, rich, worthy of a shampoo commercial, mahogany-colored hair.
Now she's got hips and her hair is lopped off just below her ears because it's easier to wash out the demon gunk.
These days she’s always covered with brain goo, demon goo, blood and viscera, bits of the un-nameable and unmentionable. There always seems to be a hole at the neck of her sweater, or the hem of her t-shirt, seams unravel, blood stains are almost impossible to get out and the whites never stay white for long. What was the point in expensive, designer anything?
With a violent tug the dress comes off, up over her head, hair left to stand wildly on end. Cordelia pulls on a white t-shirt, no holes, fairly stainless and black cotton pants, comfortable, easy to wash. The stilettos go back into their box, back into the closet, replaced by athletic socks and trainers.
“An outfit perfect for baby duty,” she says and twirls once to check out her reflection. “Ugh,” she grimaces. “Definitely not Rodeo Drive.”
She waves a hand at her reflection.
“Eh, it’s my birthday,” she says with a shrug. “Downstairs there’s cake and plenty of baby kisses.”
She heads for the door to her room, snags a gray hoodie from the back of the arm chair as she leaves.
“What more does a girl need.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-03-23 01:28 am (UTC)From: (Anonymous)no subject
Date: 2007-03-23 07:50 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-03-23 01:59 am (UTC)From:It was a joy to read.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-23 07:51 pm (UTC)From:I'm very glad you enjoyed.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-23 04:55 pm (UTC)From:Loved this very strange simile:
Her purpose fits tight like the skin on a hot dog
This is such a perfect Cordy voice, and makes that lame S1 ep foreshadow S4 *so* well:
weird, mystical, magical, cracker jack surprise kinda pregnancy anyway.
I love the explanation behind the chopping off of her gorgeous hair.
And the description of how Cordelia looks now, what she wears, ending in this:
“What more does a girl need.”
just says so much about who she's become, in a very small and beautiful way. And totally explains her outfit in "Birthday", to boot!
no subject
Date: 2007-03-23 07:57 pm (UTC)From:Loved this very strange simile:
Her purpose fits tight like the skin on a hot dog
It's it an odd one. I kept trying to think of something to replace it but nothing came to mind and I wrote it really quick while I was at work. I had an image in mind of hot dogs or hot links left to boil too long and how the skin just splits and the meat just sort spurts out all over. ew!!
Re-watching Angel has been such a joy, especially watching Cordelia grow-up and change. They did a lot with her character without making her the focus of very many eps. It always seemed to be about Angel or Angel and Darla, Wes and Fred, Wes and Fred and Gunn. But she was such an important part of the group that I still get made every time I think of You're Welcome. I hate that they did that to her, just magicked her away.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-24 04:39 am (UTC)From:I've gotta watch my DVDs. Been such a long time since I've seen Cordy. This made me miss her.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-02 05:55 pm (UTC)From:Cordy is the awesome and Cordy missage is deeply saddening. I didn't realize how much I missed her until I started re-watching S1. Then I remembered how angry I got when I found out they were writing her out of the show! Man, that lost Joss mucho points in my book. MUCHO POINTS!!
but, I am very glad that you enjoyed this little bit o' fiction.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-26 11:11 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-04-02 06:01 pm (UTC)From:Thanks!