#(as seen in the lousy shirt doodle)

[bl0ssom-skies]

Some doodles I had to get out of my head before I go to sleep lol

(Au and yellow feather cookie by @cuppajj !!)

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Chapter 1 - AP Calculus BC

Long red hair swaying elegantly in the air with the gentle autumn breeze, as a young lady exited her car and walked down the school's parking lot, towards her classroom. Her passive smile was graced by a lovely shade of red as powerful as her hair, and the soft glitter of her pink eyeshadow made perfect combination with the dark eyeliner that highlighted her vibrant aquamarine eyes so lovely. Her school bag was hanging low down her shoulder, pressed down by a few lousy books, a notebook and some random crayons, making her outfit look a little disheveled, yet in no way less pretty - A pair of comfortable blue jeans and a black Tshirt sporting a grotesque imagery from one of Iron Maiden - The egyptian picture from the Powerslave album which had just come out. She couldn't name it her favourite album by far, but she had a soft spot for the "Rime of the Ancient Mariner", which she was humming to herself.

She wondered what kind of curse was she put on to start her last highschool year, on a Monday morning no less, with Double Maths of all things - Not that she considered the subject to be difficult, but more like, particularly boring quite like the teacher himself. It was quite bothersome, but at least it meant having almost 2 whole hours to doodle around in her plant glossary. She loved going in the forest to collect plants, stick them in her glossary, then draw them later, making sure to add medicinal properties and fun trivia - A personal project of hers, encouraged by her wonderful biology teacher - What a lovely old lady that one!

As per usual, she sat down at her lonesome desk and took out both her notebook and her crayons, ready to doodle at her heart's content while the other idiots were struggling to figure out what 2+2 is without using a calculator. One by one, all students gathered in the classroom after the bell rang, and awaited the teacher amidst continuous chatter.

Once the old man arrived, he was followed by a fellow young man that Miss Kitty Kat hasn't seen before - He must be a new student, she thought to herself, admiring him - Billy Hargrove, he introduced himself, coming from California - He looked absolutely beautiful. Eyes light blue like crystals and his hair long and fluffy, a lovely mix between dirty blond and a tint of ginger; His muscular body was toned and tanned, he graced a few pretty freckles on his cheeks; But what intrigued her the most was his outfit - Blue jeans, boots, and a dark red plaid shirt over a black Tshirt printed with the logo of the German rock band Scorpions. A man of culture and wonderful taste in music. She couldn't help but smile, seeing someone like him around. A spark of hope in her heart that she would finally have a friend with whom to chat with all day and hangout, like she sees in movies and comic books... If it wasn't too much to ask, that is.

"Class, this is Billy, as you just heard - He'll be joining on for the remainder of this terminal highschool year. I advise you all to take your classes seriously and get your grades up - The final exams are approaching, and your chances of being accepted into the colleges and universities of your choice depend solely on your performances. I wish you all the best." old teacher Daniel Johnson croaked in a rather weak voice - It was his last year as a teacher before he was retiring. "Billy, for now, you can sit next to Miss Black right there - She is my brightest student, I dearly encourage you to seek her aid if you need help with anything."

"Ergh - Thanks, I guess." Billy swaggered in the seat next to her and let the bag fall on the ground.

"Alright class, I'm not going to lie to you, this year, AP Calculus BC is going to be difficult - Though imperative for those of you who want to pursue careers involving mathematics, such as Engineering, Physics or even the ever-growing Computer Science." the old man coughed a little as the students all groaned in unison. "Let's start with a simple exercise - A remainder, for what we've studied the previous year."

"Wait, it's the first day and we're starting the workload already?!" Billy's expression looked completely crestfallen - He hadn't brought a single school thing. "Ergh - We didn't usually do anything on the first day, back in Cali."

"It's fine - Miss Black can give you a pen and paper." the girl did as instructed, ripping a page from her notebook and giving him a pen. "Alright - Let's see..." the old man opened a book and began writing with chalk on the blackboard. 

Differentiate the following function: f(x) = x3sin(x)

Billy sighed to himself - He wasn't mentally prepared to go through this shit. He didn't think maths was necessarily very difficult (mostly bothersome), but he still had some few lapses here and there; He was no genius, but he worked hard to get where he wants - Go back to Cali and study Engineering. That fuckass who calls himself a 'father' would never be able to touch him there ever again. He would be free, and back home, where he belongs.

He looked to his right and realised, to his surprise, that the red head next to him wasn't even bothering with the math problem - Instead, she was drawing some very realistic flowers in her glossary - What was she doing in this hellhole of advanced math, if she liked plants? Wouldn't biology fit her better?

"Billy, are you done with the exercise?" the teacher asked all of a sudden, naming the newcomer.

The poor boy remained blank faced, incredulous - What the hell was wrong with this old bag anyway? Calling him out on his first day - What was that about accommodating someone in a new place? How annoying. "Eergh, not entirely. Halfway there I guess." he looked down at his ripped page, filled with scribbles, doodles and more letters than numbers. Yeah, not even halfway there.

"That's alright - Come to the board and let's do it together. I'll guide you where you're stuck." the teacher urged the boy - Urgh, Billy hated being seen as a nerd, but it was far worse being seen as a dumbass like the vast majority of his peers.

During his hesitation, he noticed a small piece of paper had appeared in front of him - It contained the solution to the exercise. He looked with wide eyes at the unbothered girl who kept doodling her flowers. "Sure, I guess." sticking that paper in his sleeve, Billy grabbed the chalk and started writing down - At the same time as figuring out what he was doing wrong himself. How could he be so inattentive? It really wasn't that hard of a problem - He shouldn't have fumbled so easily. "We, uh - X^3 becomes 3x^2... And sin(x) becomes cos(x)... That means... The derivate of the function is... The derivate of x^3 multiplied with sin(x)... So 3x^2 sin(x)... and we add it to the original x^3 multiplied to the derivate of sin(x)... So x^3 cos(x)..." and Billy wrote the end result, the derivate of the original function.

f′(x) = 3x2sin(x) + x3cos(x)

"Very good, Billy, nicely done! You've got a promising future ahead." the teacher's praise surprised the student, even making him feel rather bashful. He never did have a fatherly figure to praise him - This was a weirdly nice change, though one he wasn't sure he could easily accept it.

"... Thanks." he muttered, digging his hands in his pockets, yet holding tightly onto that slip of paper. The praise was undeserved - He cheated shamelessly.

"What do you want to pursue in the future, Billy?" the ever existing question... And his ever shameful answer.

"Engineering... I guess." he found himself answering truthfully. 

"It's a well sought-after career these days - I'm sure you'll have a bright future ahead of you, young man!" Billy couldn't look at the teacher anymore; He had a weak smile on his face before swaggering back to his desk and slumping down, waiting for the break like crazy.

Time passed by so slowly watching those idiots fumble around, unable to do simple calculus; How did they end up in this class was a mystery for him; Still, the long awaited lunch break came by after 2 very long hours of torture and boredom; The red head packed up her things and swung the bag over her shoulder, exiting the class like an invisible phantasm, unnoticed by any.

Blinking, Billy crumpled up that paper and threw it in his bag, dragging it along him and throwing the pen in his pocket, trailing for the girl - There was no trace of beautiful carmine hair anywhere, and he was just standing there, lost and standing in the middle of the corridor. It wasn't long before a bunch of guys and girls started flocking around him begging for the attention of the next hotshot of the school, dragging him towards the lunch cafeteria.

He had a pretty okay meal, and he was glad he was noticed so quickly - He had to make a quick reputation as the cool guy; The alpha male around the campus - Just as his father would want. Still, the constant smothering from his colleagues wasn't too bad - He was shown around the place and introduced to people and told what he had to know about the place - Even the hazing ritual, come in the form of drinking beer from a keg at Tina's Halloween party. It was the perfect opportunity for him to affirm himself as the #1 guy in Hawkins.

Just as the break was almost over, he caught a glimpse of the peculiar red haired beauty sitting at the foot of a large oak tree and eating lunch from a wooden box... With chopsticks? They weren't even regular chopsticks, they were pink. Shaking off the people, he walked in front of the girl, his towering shadow obstructing the warm sunlight.

"Hello, Billy." her voice was soft and calm, so serene that it almost sounded like a siren speaking to him. "How do you like the place? Have those guys presented you a nice first impression?" she took a small piece of a dumpling with those chopsticks and delicately brought it up to her mouth. "Oh, how rude of me - I am Katrina - You can call me Kat for short." she introduced herself with a small nod of her head. "Have you eaten lunch? I can share with you if you want." she patted the spot next to her.

"Ergh..." he was a little overwhelmed with how overly nice and polite she was. "Kat - Okay. Yeah, it's an okay place, but it can't compare to Cali. I miss the waves and the sun." he admitted, plopping down next to her. "What's cookin', good lookin' ?" he offered a charming smile, getting closer to her; But his dazzling self was successfully dismissed by the girl.

"These are beef dumplings, these are spring rolls, and this is some fried chicken with rice." she turned towards him and took a bit of rice and chicken in her chopsticks, raising them up to his mouth. "Open up." although hesitant, Billy opened his mouth to eat the bite given to him.

His eyes widened a little, and he started chewing more vigorously. "That's good - Did your mum make this?"

"I did." she smiled, quickly taking half a spring roll and offering it to the boy to savour. "What about this - Is it to your liking?"

"You're a very good cook; Mum never made these things - Where'd you get the recipes?" he asked, silently begging for more; Kat's cooking was flawless, compared to what his biological mum, foster mum and the cafeteria food he's had before.

"My dad said these were grandma's recipes from back home. She would always pack up lunches for him and grandpa. They were both intellectuals, and she believed that a good nutritious meal would help them with their work and studies." Kat smiled, giving him a taste of the beef dumpling.

"I don't know about that, but I can tell you, this is very good." he received one more bite. "At least one good thing when you're stuck in this dumpster fire."

"You don't like it here much, I take?" the girl asked, not even once erasing that serene smile from her face.

"Hate it." he grumped, slumping his back against the tree. "I miss my Cali. I want to feel the hot sand beneath my feet, and have the cool waves break against me. I want the sun to scorch my skin, and play the guitar by the camp fire, with the wind messing up my hair." he sighed, defeated, before turning his head to look at her - She was smiling so beautifully, and her eyes were sparkling with interest.

"That sounds like a reverie, Billy! I would love to experience that some day also! No wonder you loved home so much." she hummed softly. "Although, I think I know what to say that would make you tolerate this place a little." he huffed, as if he wasn't believing her, yet still urged her to go on. "The air is fresh, the breeze is soothing on your skin, and the smell of the evergreen forest, especially when it rains, is so calming. Strolling around offers you peace of mind, and the landscape is magnifying. You can play rock ballads by the camp fire and harmonise with the choir of crickets, toads and nightingales. You can swim in the lake, or play in the ice-cold river. You can hear the rusty leaves scrunch under your boots in autumn, or the snow in winter. And the flowers - Oh, Billy, you should see how many gorgeous flowers and butterflies appear in Spring! The whole place is filled with so many vibrant colours! It's like paradise!" 

The boy looked down at her; The girl was twinkling, emanating so much love and beauty, she was radiant like the morning sun. Not even once had he met anyone as positive and... Absent, in a way. It was like she's never met any bad thing in the world, and she was still living in a dreamy bubble. He... He felt absolutely stupefied to see someone that wasn't completely jaded, like he and everyone around him was. For some very odd reason he felt... A faint sense of protection over her innocence and kindness. "...Sure, doll, whatever you say." his silence and dismissive nature didn't seem to influence her smile at all. "I'll let you show me that."

"I would be honoured to!" and he thought she couldn't twinkle even brighter than she already was.

"Right." he cleared his throat. "What about popularity? What's a guy gotta do around to get the spotlight?"

"I don't think I'm the right person to ask, Billy, forgive me." she offered a sympathetic smile.

"Whadya mean, girly? You must be the most popular babe around!" he leaned in closer, bumping his shoulder into her own.

"Oh no, hardly! My only friend is Nancy Wheeler, but we don't really share classes. We hardly see each other these days. She's very sweet though! And incredibly beautiful - I think she's the prettiest girl I've ever met - And she's very smart too!" a girl hyping up another girl? That's a new one. "Oh, Barbie was also very sweet with me, but unfortunately, she disappeared last year. Very tragic incident. It's a shame, they never found her body."

"You're one weird girl, doll." he couldn't help but chuckle leisurely, and worry-free. "A'ight, listen; Gimme some pointers, and I'm taking you out for a milkshake at the drive cinema."

"Really?! You'd do that?!" the boy offered a dazzling smirk, and nodded his hair, those pretty locks getting even messier. "Oh, I can't wait! This Friday is a horror-movie marathon, because it's Friday the 13th, y'know?! They're going to show Friday the 13th, and Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and the new Nightmare on Elm Street! I heard they have discounts for combo deals - Coke, milkshakes, pizza, burgers with fries and popcorn! It's gonna be so fun!" she clapped her hands together full excitement, though her voice remained as soft and lovely as before. What a quirky girl. No wonder she wasn't popular - Few people wanted to stray away from the popular norm; Everything else was catalogued as freaks, nerds, geeks and outcasts. Shame; He really liked her vibe. She was far above the others.

"Okay, doll, okay, we can do that." he chuckled, waving his hand dismissively, before placing his arm over her shoulder. "Now, gimme some tips and I've gotchu."

"I think I've got an idea." with a vixen-like mischievous smile, Katrina quickly ate the last bit of her meal, neatly packed it back before throwing it in her bag; She hopped up to her feet and pulled the surfer up with shocking strength, and dragged him to the large gym where some guys were playing basketball. "You see that shirtless guy with fluffy hair? His name is Steve Harrington. At this moment, he's the king of the highschool. He is the most popular kid here, he has good grades, is the leader of our basketball team, and is said to be a candidate for one of our scholarships." she cleared her throat. "Also, he is a massive douchebag. He humiliated my friend, Nancy - They were dating last year, but got angry she wouldn't make love to him, so he got his groupie to bully her - They even wrote mean things on the cinema front, can you believe that? What ever happened to decent people." she rolled her eyes in annoyance. "I would do anything to see this guy face the same humiliation he gave others."

"Oh, yeah? What a fuck ass." he scoffed, leaning forward. "Yeah, he looks like a cunt." he smirked in triumph. "King Steve is going down."

"Thank goodness!" she chimed in happily. "You know - I heard he even cheated on Nancy with many other girls. He's awful!" she approached him to gossip in a hushed tone. "But I'll tell you one thing - None of his groupies are loyal to him - He's a little bitch with fame, but if you take that away, he'll have nothing and no one." she delicately placed her hands on his face, tilting it to an angle before showing him another guy and a cheerleader. "See those two? They are Tommy and Tina, the current IT couple. Tina is the lead cheerleader, the most wanted girl around, and super rich - All the best parties are held at her house. And Tommy is super buff and works out publicly, so everyone surrounds him to gawk at his physique." he loved this kind of gossip - Girly earned that movie date, and more. "If you win Tommy over, you win the whole school; And it's really easy - You already work out, so he'll respect that. All you have to do is keep good grades, join the basketball team and play shirtless, win a few matches - And most of all, with the Keg King title at Tina's Halloween party." she looked at him with a wide grin. "If anyone can do it, it's you." she continued enthusiastically. "And you know who is the current Keg King?"

"That pussy Harrington, huh?" she nodded affirmatively.

"Well, babe, prepare for the fall of a monarchy, because I'm a usurper - And I look far better with a crown on my head, and a pretty girl by my side." he brought her in a side hug, smirking down at her; She didn't seem to react in any way, either positive or negative - She was as passive and serene as always. Was she... Deflecting his flirting? Or completely immune? Could it be that all the complimenting of Nancy meant she was into pretty girlies like her? "Say, dollface, you've got a boyfriend?" she shook her head. "How about a girlfriend?" she shook her head again. "Not interested? School above all? Or strict parents?"

Kat simply shrugged her shoulders. "Nobody asked me before." that perfectly simple and serene answer kinda derailed him. There was no way a girl like her didn't have guys flocking around her constantly, fighting for her attention.

"Nah, no way, I don't believe you." she nodded her head, as if to confirm again. "Really?!" she nodded again. 

"I recommend you don't hang around me too often - Your reputation is going to plummet if people see you around freaky 'Kommie Kat'." she advised, without the least bit of sadness in her voice.

"... Freaky Kommie Kat? The hell is that?" he frowned, leaning back, completely lost.

"I am a foreigner. My dad was Chinese, my mum was Russian - Both are communist countries." she explained non-chalantly. "I moved in Hawkins six years ago, you see - And when highschool started, I tasted a bit of popularity for myself - How old was I... 13-14 or something. Anyway - Steve was my deskmate in History, and I let him cheat off of me at a test, so he could get A like me. We became friend, and he introduced me to Nancy afterwards - We were together in literature." she smiled sardonically. "Steve asked me on a date soon after, and I told him I would be more comfortable if we were just friends, because I thought I was too young to date, you know? It was a new experience in a new place - I wanted to meet new people and discover myself." she chuckled emptily. "And, you see, Steve took that like a rejection - He got very angry and pushed me into the locker - Said I would regret saying no to him. I told him - What's so bad about being friends? And he says friends are for losers." what a jerk, Billy thought to himself, imagining an even younger and smaller version of the girl before him, being slammed into the locker like that. It made his skin crawl, remembering the way his father would slam his mum into the walls. "It's been years, and he still hasn't gotten over that - What Steve says is law; And when Steve said I was 'Freaky Kommie Kat', I was just that, to just about everyone in the school, otherwise, they'd get bullied until they stopped interacting with me."

"All of them, except that Nancy girl?" her smile became happier at the mention of her friend.

"Yes, she's very lovely, don't you think? If I see her around, I'll introduce you two!" she was twinkling again. "I think she hangs around Jonathan Byers now; He's pretty introverted, but not a bad person."

"A'ight, all the more reason to teach that little punk a lesson not to mess with my doll." he slapped his thighs before getting up. "Well, thanks for the help, babe; You more than earned that movie date." he helped her get up. "I'll go enroll in the team - See you tomorrow in Physics." surprisingly for the both of them, he kissed her cheek before leaving the gym.

There were a myriad of things going through their minds - Why did he do that, Billy asked to himself; He didn't want to date, he just wanted to have fun and get the hell over this shit terminal highschool year; He wanted to be Keg King Billy, and win over everyone, and then run the hell back to Cali and study Engineering... So why was he so attracted to this pretty girl? Was it because she helped him in freaking Math? Or because she fed him such fantastic food? Or because she was so kind with him? He hasn't had anyone so nice to him, without him offering something back in some way; It was always about his good-looks and charm, granted, he worked hard to look the way he does, and he was more than happy with what he's done; He was pretty sure his weights weight more than Kat - He could exercise with her instead. Oh, no, those were such weird thoughts in his head - Though he couldn't help but wonder, if her cheek was so soft, and he was encaptured by her sweet perfume so much - How would her lips taste? What lip gloss is she using? Was it cherry? He dearly wanted to know - Many, many times over.

Kat, however, was rooted on the spot, blushing a little - She's never had a boy kiss her like that before, and Billy was so handsome, charming and fun! He was so intriguing, and she wanted to spend more time with him - Was he giving her a chance? Did he want to be her friend? Hopefully, he wouldn't cast her aside after he's gotten his popularity crown, that would be very sad. Almost as sad as Nancy taking Steve's side and still dating him, in spite of how much of a jerk he can be. Not that it was her problem at all, she didn't want to destroy their relationship, but she also didn't like seeing Nancy so upset.

✦ . ⁺  . ✦ . ⁺  . ✦

The next day went like any other day for Kat, with the exception that Billy sat next to her in Physics. This time, he had a single notebook and a pen - He knew Kat would be carrying the textbook for the both of them anyway, and he didn't want to bother too much; He would end up forgetting what class he has in which day regardless, that's how much he cares. Unfortunately, just like the previous day, they started with the more difficult stuff right away, and once again, the students groaned in exasperation. No one wanted to deal with those difficult problems - And that one unlucky loser who would be forced to step in front of the class and humiliate themselves by being unable to solve that idiocy.

Physics class was an absolute drag, more so than math, if you could believe it. The old man's croaky voice droned on about Newton's laws of motion, and the chalk squeaked painfully on the blackboard. Billy sat at his desk, trying his best to stay awake. His mind wandered back to the beach in California, the waves, the sun, the freedom. He couldn't understand how anyone could stay awake during these classes. Still, he was well aware, Physics was one of the core classes he needed to ace, to be properly prepared for University. How annoying.

Next to him, Kat was doodling away in her notebook again, her red hair forming a curtain around her face as she sketched what looked like a complex diagram of some plant. Her aquamarine eyes flicked up to the teacher every now and then, but it was clear she wasn't really paying attention. Billy sighed, shifting in his seat, and his eyes caught on a small piece of paper that had been nudged his way. Kat's handwriting was neat and small, each letter perfectly formed into a small yet adorable message addressed his way.

< Bored c: ? >it read, a tiny smiley face next to the question.

Billy smirked, glancing at her. She didn’t look up, her attention seemingly focused on her drawing. He scribbled back a quick reply and slid the paper back to her.  < You have no idea. How do you stay awake in this place? >

Kat's eyes flickered to the note, and a soft, almost imperceptible smile tugged at her lips. She quickly wrote something down and nudged the paper back.  < Pretty flowers and daydreams. What about you? >

Billy leaned back in his chair, pretending to stretch as he took the note and wrote back. < Thinking about Cali. The beach. The waves. I'd be out surfing now. >

Kat's eyebrows rose in curiosity as she read his response. She shook her head subtly, and Billy noticed the slight sparkle of interest in her eyes as she wrote her reply.  < Surfing looked amazing on TV! I want to hear all about it! >

He chuckled softly, enjoying this small rebellion against the boredom of the class. He scribbled back quickly. < Imagine this: hot sand under your feet, cool waves crashing over you, and the sun setting on the horizon. >

Kat’s eyes shone with excitement as she read his words. She leaned a bit closer to him, the edge of her notebook brushing against his arm as she wrote back.  < That sounds like paradise. Take me there someday? >

Billy felt a weird twist in his chest at her words. He hadn’t expected her to be so open, so genuinely interested. It was... Nice. He scratched out a quick reply, his usual confident smirk softening into something a bit more genuine. Why did he actually feel something when interacting to this complete stranger? This wasn't like him, not at all. He was the playboy, the casanova, he could have anything and everything he wants... So why...?  < Maybe I will, doll. Just gotta get through this hellhole first. >

The bell rang, signaling the end of the class. Students hurried to pack their things and leave, but Billy and Kat lingered a moment longer, exchanging one last glance before standing up. "Hey, dollface, I've got basket practice after lunch. Wanna watch me destroy King Steve?" he hung back by her side, picking her bag and placing it over his shoulder.

"Oh, I would love to! Only - Forgive me, I have never watched a basketball match before, and I have no idea what the game even is about, except an orange ball that you have to throw through a hoop." she chuckled softly. "Thank you for holding my bag, Billy, but you really needn't!"

The boy simply flashed a smirk, guiding her out by the very same tree the previous day. "Got any more of that super delish food?"

Kat's smile widened into a grin as she buried her hands in the bag, revealing a small blanket and two lunch boxes. "I had hoped you wouldn't stop wanting to see me overnight, so I prepared lunch for you also - And brought a fork for you, of course. I can't expect King Billy to eat with pink chopsticks painted with tons of flowers." she chuckled, patting the spot next to her. 

For some reason, Billy's heart sunk; Buried underneath that gorgeous, hopeful smile of hers, a deep loneliness was revealed mixed with such a sweet voice. Why did he care so much? Was it because she tried so hard to be kind to him? Although, for Billy, everything she was doing seemed natural; He felt as though everything she was doing came so naturally to her - Her kindness was natural. And he felt like a moth gravitating around the flame.

"Y'think I'm that much of a brain dead sheep, that I'd stop hanging around a pretty girl 'cause dumbass Harrington set the trend?" he slumped down next to her, digging in his fantastic lunch. "Harrington has no clue what he's been missing on these years - If not your pretty face, this damn food would keep a man from walking away." this comment seemed to make the red haired girl hide her mouth with her sleeve, stifling a very amused chuckle. 

"You are being very kind to me, Billy, Thank you." she nodded her head bashfully. "I just hope you won't come to regret it." the young man threw her a shady look and scoffed.

"Are you comparing yourself to those stinky cows, KitKat?" the girl couldn't help but gasp and start laughing - For once, the nickname was so cute - She's never had anyone use a nickname with her! And, for second - Did Billy just call their classmates 'Stinky Cows'?

"Did you just call our classmates -- Stinky cows?!" even just repeating that made the girl laugh harder.

Billy muttered, digging into the food. “Most of the girls in Hawkins are so dull. All they care about is gossip and who’s dating who. No one has any real interests." he continued. "And yes, they stink of very bad cheap perfume." he leaned a little to the side, close to her neck. "Yours is very nice and feminine."

"Oh, thank you, I'm glad you liked it! I worked two years to buy it! I found it on sale, so I managed to get two bottles." two years of hard work to get a proper perfume, and all those trust fund bitches and silver spoon rich fucks can't even find a proper fashion sense. "And - Yeah, I guess our classmates can be annoying and... Pretty plain! But they aren't all that bad - I think! I mean, at least this is the last year we'll see them, right?"

Billy smirked, taking a bite of a dumpling. “Well, it’s true. And don’t even get me started on the guys. Dumb as bricks, most of them. The highlight of their day is probably belching the alphabet or winning a pissing contest."

Kat giggled, shaking her head. “You’re awful, Billy. But yeah, I get what you mean. Sometimes it feels like we’re stuck in this small-town bubble and no one wants to break out of it.” she looked up at the bright sky. "I hope to travel the world some day. It's my biggest dream."

Big dreams for the future, from a little person like them - But what can a man do but dream of a better future built if their own hands, with blood, sweat and tears? "That's a nice dream to have." he nodded to himself. "Keep on dreaming, KitKat."

"What about you, Billy? What's your big dream." what a wonderful question with no real answer.

"No clue." Billy found himself spewing. "Haven't thought that far yet. For now, my only dream is to get that damn scholarship, move back to Cali and get my fucking degree. If I get that far, I'll think of something for the future." he grumbled under his breath. "I just wanna get the fuck out of this god forsaken place."

"You really hate this place that much?" her voice became sympathetic and filled with compassion.

"Bullshit city, yeah." he huffed, stuffing himself with more food. "But not only."

"I understand what you're trying to say." the girl smiled softly. "If you need anything, I'm here for you. Until then - I'll try to help make this year more bearable for you. How's that sound?"

Billy looked right into her eyes; His crystal eyes peered in the depths of her soul, piercing aggressively - Yet he was met with resistance coming from a veil of genuine care and worry for him. What a fool this girl was. Girls like her always end up bad - Not because they do anything wrong, but because the world fails them. Billy picked her chin, leaning in closer to her face. "Don't change who you are, dollface." he said, before letting go and getting up to her feet. "Now come, I'll delight your eyes during practice. Be a nice girl and cheer for me, will ya?"

"If you wouldn't be embarrassed by me being there, then I would love to!" she looked cute - As cute as a little kitten would look, nestled in large blankets.

Billy nodded his head at her to pack everything and get up; They headed towards the gym, where they went separate ways. Kat took a seat in the bleachers, her eyes scanning the court as the players warmed up, with Billy there in the lead. The sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished wooden floor and the thud of basketballs being dribbled filled the air. Billy and a few of his teammates were tossing the ball back and forth as they waited for practice to officially begin. He caught sight of Katrina in the stands, a confident smirk spreading across his face. He had planned to show off a bit, and he was determined to make a memorable impression.

When the whistle blew and practice started in earnest, Billy kicked into show-off mode, playing with swagger, his movements sharp and fluid. He dribbled, passed, and shot with impressive precision, each move showcasing his athletic prowess. Kat had no idea what she was watching, but seeing Billy playing so passionately made her smile brightly.

As the game progressed, Billy’s shirt was soaked with sweat, clinging to his well-defined muscles. He could feel Kat’s gaze on him, and he made sure to put on a show. With each dunk and fast break, he glanced over to see her reaction, enjoying the way her eyes followed his every move. He could almost feel her enthusiasm and see those sparkling gems, even though she was sitting still and had no clue what she was watching.

At one point, Billy executed a fantastic slam dunk, hanging from the rim for a moment before landing gracefully on his feet. He looked over at Katrina, catching her wide-eyed, slightly awestruck expression. He couldn’t help but grin, his eyes twinkling with a mix of pride and mischief seeing her clap with such child-like glee.

During a brief break, Billy trotted over to the sidelines, his shirt discarded and his chest glistening with sweat dripping down his Adonis muscles. He wiped his face with a towel, his confident demeanor never wavering; He casually leaned against the bleachers where she was seated, his body language radiating both charm and casual arrogance. 

“Hey, gorgeous. How’s the show so far? Living up to standards?” his hands were balled in fists against his hips, making sure his body was perfectly flexed. If even his body that had the appeal of a Greek God statue by Michelangelo couldn't make her at least blush a little, than he was sure, this girl was a lost cause.

Much to his pride and joy, however, he saw the girl smiling at him - And her cheeks were just a hue pink, like two beautiful peonies. Success. "I think you were fantastic! You totally threw Steve in your shadow!" she admitted, trying to sound nonchalant but unable to hide her admiration.

Billy’s grin widened, clearly pleased with the compliment. “Figured I’d give you a little private show.” he gave her a playful wink, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Is that so?” Katrina replied, her tone light and teasing. “And here I thought you were just a show-off.”

Billy chuckled, his eyes lingering on her pretty face and that glowing smile of hers. “Maybe a little.” he straightened up, his confidence unwavering. 

"Then are we leaving the private show for some other time?" the girl's mischievous comment was hiding a most teasing innuendo that wasn't lost on the boy - In fact, Billy was quite shocked to see her completely natural and serene flirting with him. Did she even know she was flirting, or did she think it was purely friendly teasing?

"For you? Any time, any day, sweet cheeks." with a wink, Billy jogged back to continue the second half of their match and completely piss on Harrington and his week game. He was feeling even more energetic thanks to the pretty girl's evident appreciation of his skills - And physique, of course. The way he played with effortless skill and charisma was meant to impress her, and he could tell that he was flawlessly succeeding.

By the end of practice, Billy’s teammates were buzzing with excitement, their high-fives and cheers a testament to the intensity of the session. He returned over to Katrina, his chest still bare and glistening with sweat, and plopped down beside her. "Want a hug, doll?" he couldn't help but grin in amusement hearing her soft squeak and seeing her jump away from him.

"Take a shower first, and then we'll talk about a hug!" she was giggling all giddy and cute.

Billy’s eyes softened with a touch of vulnerability, a rare moment of sincerity amidst his usual bravado. “Wanna join? All hot and steamy.”

"Sorry - Too much testosterone and magical wands fighting." she giggled jokingly. "I'm more of a hopelessly romantic kinda girl. Not quite the norm these days, huh?" yes, of course she would be that kinda girl. A sweet girl who daydreams of an endless happy love story, of a Prince Charming carrying her around like a Princess. That type of perfect girl, Daddy's sweet little angel, who should never hang around fucked up and broken bad boys like him.

But didn't all guys want the good girl to go bad just for them? "I'll keep that in mind while I humiliate Harrington with my magic wand." they were such dorks.

  Classes pass by fast, basketball practice was going smoothly, and Billy was gaining traction; His popularity was up there, his grades were up, and finally, his date night with Princess KitKat was approach. He had to get all done up and looking as charming as ever, his Cali magic couldn't fail him. He could get bitches all he wanted, that was easy - But he promised her a nice date, and hopefully, he wasn't too broken and screwed up to provide at least this little. Lord knows she deserved something nice in that lonely life of hers.

Next Chapter >

[cwcthzl]

Hi 👋 wanted to need to know what you think about a modern era Stozier au where Richie is a guitarist who write song about his love for Stan and Stan is a painter who Richie as his muse

even though i can't see stan drawing more than sketches of his favorite birds in normal settings, i can't say this au didn't cross my mind and lure me in.

richie is bad at vocalizing his feelings so he always turns to music to do it for him, it gets even worse when he starts learning guitar and writing his own songs with the most raw usage of words. like, no word game or whatsoever, because he doesn't care and won't play it outside of his own room anyway, so why not be honest about it?

it starts out with writing a little draft about stan and how he is his best friend and how he is the best birdwatcher he's ever known because he's the only one with an old ass soul and mildly nerdy interests (affectionately, of course) and he just. takes so much joy in that he starts writing more songs about him. they start as making fun of him, jokes about his sense of style and his habit of rolling his eyes in everything and how he always scrunches his nose before writing something and how his left dimple shows up when he laughs and-

one night he gathers all his songs and places them all over the floor and bed to sort them into categories. he picks up paper after paper and every one of them is about stan.

it's almost like i'm love with him, he laughs to himself but then his most recent drafts keep adding up and he reads the lines where he wrote 'and i wish i got to keep his fingers on my hair forever, drown myself on his eyes that i call a river' and the realization downs on him and he just sits there. like. i am fucking in love with him

on the other hand stan started drawing by drawing birds he watched while he was bird-watching, and he wanted to keep the image and track of them without buying and cutting out pictures of them all time. but slowly he started drawing different things, doodling his classmate's bag in class or painting sky when he thought the sunset was pretty. he usually drew inanimate objects.

he started getting the artist-perspective and he started paying more attention to the features of people around him and how he could capture the said features on paper.

and he couldn't take his eyes off of richie when he paid, actually paid attention to his face because he was so. drawable. something about it satisfied stan better than anything. the way his slightly crooked teeth popped out when he flashed his real smile, how his arched nose was the perfect angle, how his eyes were the coldest blue he's ever seen, how his eyelashes touched his cheekbone, and-

so he drew him. tried to, but he felt like he didn't do it properly so he drew him again. and again and again. he drew him standing, sitting, whistling, laughing, with angel wings, with horrendous shirts, with religious symbolism - in every way he could.

he drew him and told himself he'd stop until he got it perfect, but he never did.

one evening, when he was tapping the back of his brush on his desk and looking at his last painting of richie, he thought why he couldn't capture that lousy trashmouth perfectly.

because he is perfect, stan thought mindlessly while stroking the fabric with his brush. you can't capture the perfection perfectly. it's always gonna be replication of the real thing, an almost, but never perfect.

he never stopped drawing him though. he was a perfectionist, after all.

[destinywillowleaf]

Apollo Justice, prosecutor of Khura'in in @greentrickster's AU is done! Split the sheet because I couldn't get it all visible in one shot.

This was probably the hardest of he sheets to fill out completely. If it wasn't obvious, I took the more Khurainese/concept-based designs from Nahyuta's pages and used them here, with the character actually living in Khura'in.

One of he hardest parts - as you could probably tell between the back and forth of it - was figuring out what to do with Apollo's hair. Would it look better in the front, like his father, or would it look better spread out? I'm still not sure which I like better. There's also one with somewhat of a rat tail ponytail but that was just for dramatics. The surprised Apollo at the top is a similar joke, because seriously what if his surprise animation were the spikes standing up like they usually do.

This got longer than expected so details under the break, as well as some AA6 spoilers if anyone still cares about those.

The first sketch was the upper left one, pulled from one of the final drawings in Nahyuta's concept art. A lot of these are just concept art on Apollo really but with a twist: the bell sleeves to cover his bracelet. When he bends his elbows too much and poses like the one to the left of the start, though, his bracelet can be seen.

Brought back the outfit from 3rd sketch page, no. 4, again with the extended sleeves. Final of that probably would have some sort of cuff on the end for extra style points.

Bby Apollo is actually like 10-11 there and look I just really like the outfit I will find a use for it and no one can stop me.

Last one in the first image is just trying posing, obviously distressed over something... But what is it?

Second image!

Starting at the top, Rebel Apollo. I have a feeling that he worked with the Defiant Dragons for a while in the field, acting as a lookout with his insane eyesight and loud voice. He's got a bandana a la Bowser Jr., with the mouth of a dragon painted onto it(though in the sketch I was pulling more inspiration from the Chinese Guardian Lions and the komainu). People knew of the "Dragon's Dog" but not of who they were. This does sometimes get used in the Plumbed Punisher when Dhurke is saved by a mysterious shadow.

Going across now to the short cloak, pulled from one of Nahyuta's earlier concepts. The Khurainese Prosecutor's badge is on either side(left and right), and he's wearing an outfit like Dhurke's underneath.

The small doodle to the right of it was my attempt at making a bit more of an action-y pose because he's a monk and more willing to fight than expected. Also, the ponytail. That's here.

Serious mode, with another concept sketch. This one was pulled from the teal outfit with the red shoulder scarf thing but obviously here t would be a different color. I have no idea how the buttons work either, I was just trying to replicate what was in the picture.

... and immediately next to it he reason I made my earlier post about overthrowing he government and getting a lousy t-shirt. He's very displeased. Nahyuta has a matching one. It was worth every penny. Give me the little things.

Apollo and Ema are most definitely salt friends. He's the Prosecutor's Office for less than a day, set up right next to Klavier, and he has to listen to guitr all day. Klavier isn't a rock star anymore why is he still doing this. He brings it up with Ema once and she is more than willing to talk and gripe about him. Often over Snackoos.

And finally, the one that's a combination of a number of different designs. The cloth from the late stage concept just as a belt, the canon Nahyuta shirt thing but way shorter(so like the one with the scarf), and something like Dhurke's jacket over it.

No, I still don't know how to draw shoes. For either of them. But I do know one thing: this Nahyuta is really, really fun to write. He's got the same tiredness of Apollo but with more internal anxiety over his appearance. I've got a few little ideas that I want to write up when I get time(something I don't really have right now, to be honest /_\")

Honestly one of the best things about this AU is exploring how events could have gone down. Nahyuta's lack of Gramarye sight means he can't detect lies and he has to take more roundabout methods to finding the truth when Trucy can't help. Apollo being in Khura'in means he's closer with his father but still knows nothing about who he is or who his parents were. Even though he didn't know Lamiroir was his mother, Phoenix could still figure out the identity of Thalassa's firstborn. Reasoning changes for why characters do certain things, and the final showdown of AA6 is even more emotionally taxing for the main character.

I really hope there aren't any typos in here...

[mariequitecontrarie]

Meet Me in the Courtyard: Part 5

Summary: Belle takes her new friend Leroy’s advice and shows up at Gold’s with dinner—unannounced and uninvited.   The Fic: Belle hosts a monthly movie night in Storybrooke, always leaving the seat next to her empty. Gold loathes movies, yet movie night at the library is the one community event even he can’t seem to resist.  Rating: T A/N: Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: “Please don’t tell anyone.” I know it’s been forever and you’re probably wondering if I was ever going to update. Thanks to @still-searching47 for looking over this for me!

{On AO3} Previous parts: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |  Chapter 4

Branan Gold was a terrible excuse for a fugitive.

In the past two weeks, he had played duck and weave at the park, pretended to study a display of star fruit in the grocery store, and even crouched behind his display case in the shop, the tips of his ears burning with shame as he waited for a certain auburn-haired beauty to cross the street and pass by on the sidewalk.

Gold had been avoiding Belle French for exactly 13 days, ever since the pornography incident in his back room. The circumstances went far beyond his discomfiture at the X-rated seventies film his son Neal had loaded on the old-fashioned projector. Gold had behaved like an overgrown child, letting Ruby Lucas worm under his skin like an infection with her sardonic humor and cutting remarks. All he’d cared about in the moment was getting his pound of flesh on his own turf, but he’d regretted volleying back Ms. Lucas’s insults every day since.

Mostly he regretted embarrassing Belle, but he didn’t know quite how to apologize.

Besides getting tongue-tied in her presence, he was absolute garbage at playing inconspicuous. His bad knee made quick moves impossible, and his penchant for bespoke Italian wool caused him to stand out in a crowd. The worst part was, he didn’t want to avoid Belle—not really. Each time he’d seen her, he’d been unable to stop himself from staring—drinking in her remarkable beauty had become a habit he couldn’t seem to break. He’d longed to reach out, to say hello, tease her into speaking first. He was half agony and half hope that she would walk up to him and slap his smug face or yell at him at the top of her lungs. Anything to break the tense silence between them. But other than waiting for Belle to make the first move, what other option was available?

Leaning heavily on his cane, Gold poured himself another healthy glass of scotch—his third of the evening—and wondered not for the first time why he was such an unmitigated ass. It’s self-preservation, nothing more.

Another plaintive whine came from the back porch from the half-grown puppy he’d found in the alley between his shop and the Fish and Chips place next door. The dog had shown up about a month ago, fur muddy and smelling of sewage. He’d rolled up his shirtsleeves and given him a bath in the sanitary tub and a bowl of kibble, and the puppy had come around every morning for a week, whimpering at Gold with wet, melting brown eyes. One afternoon he had followed Gold home and set up camp on the porch. Little savage. He could hang around outside of the house all he liked, but if he didn’t leave off the crying and scratching at the door, Gold was going to make good on his repeated threats to call Animal Control.

Ignoring the whimpering pup, he limped over to his favorite leather recliner, settled against the worn leather, then pulled an afghan over his legs. Hell, maybe he’d even sleep downstairs tonight. It seemed like exactly the sort of thing a crabby old bastard would do. His bad knee was tired, loose and wobbly from the effects of the alcohol, warm and languid in his veins.

He flipped on the television and leafed through the channels till he found something mindless. The Cooking Channel was doing a foodumentary on the history of popcorn—his ex-wife’s favorite. Foul, disgusting excuse for a snack. He slumped deeper into chair and forced himself to watch the program, disgust keeping him from drifting back into daydreams of Belle using his shoulder as a pillow while their fingers intertwined inside a box of Junior Mints.

Another insistent whine filtered through the back wall of the house, and when the mewls turned to howls, Gold drained his glass of scotch in one fiery gulp and peered at the blank screen of his cell phone. What a pathetic sack he was.

There was no point in pursuing this thing with Belle, only to be cast aside when she discovered what everyone else already had—he was too boring to bother truly knowing and too damaged inside to be worth the trouble. He was like one of those vases that eager, star-eyed innocents took onto Antiques Roadshow, hoping to strike it big with a valuable piece—the veneer was smooth and polished, but the vessel itself worth the grand total of $20 and change.

Gold glanced at the back windows; it was only September—still warm enough outside for an animal to be safe and comfortable—but maybe he should let the dog in for a couple of hours.

The doorbell rang, its obnoxious peal echoing through the house. Gold scowled; no one ever came to visit, so it was either a sales call or his son. The boy was always forgetting his key; it was a miracle he had survived three years of college in Boston. All he’d managed to accomplish was spending $200,000 in tuition for a pre-law degree and getting expelled a semester before graduation. Neal’s lock-picking skills weren’t appreciated—particularly when executed on university property.

At 22, the boy was taking a year to find himself. Translation: he was situated at the top of the stairs in his old bedroom, spending his days playing video games and his evenings doodling in a notebook and making eyes at Emma Swan. So much wasted potential.

Muttering as he padded into the hallway, Gold threw open the door.

To Belle French.

“I’ve brought Chinese,” she announced, peeking over the top of a huge brown paper bag.

Shoots of steam snaked into the cooling evening air, causing curly tendrils of hair to stick to her forehead. Gold took a half-step backward in surprise. He’d never expected her to show up here. Every lousy excuse he’d made about why continuing their friendship was a terrible idea flew out of his brain like bats swarming out of a cave at dusk.

Yes, he was a terrible fugitive indeed.

“I hope you haven’t had dinner yet.” The question in her muffled voice came from behind the bag.

His stomach gurgled on command, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He’d thought to simply polish off the bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue and pass out in his recliner, but he decided against sharing such pitiful plans.

Gold sniffed the air in appreciation. “Sizzling garlic shrimp?”

The bag lowered, and her face split in a wide smile, all shell pink lips and gleaming white teeth. “I wouldn’t dare darken your door without it.”

He hefted the bag from her arms with a short laugh. The scotch had done its job, and he was a little tipsy, his head fuzzy. “Come on in,” he said, leading the way through the foyer into the kitchen.

The bag seemed bottomless as Belle pulled out an endless parade of white square cartons, lining them up on the counter like little soldiers. Auburn curls were tousled around her shoulders, and she looked deliciously at home in his kitchen in blue jeans and a fitted white oxford shirt unbuttoned almost to the middle of her chest. A frilly pink tank top accentuated her lovely breasts and creamy skin. He shifted his weight and clenched the handle of his cane.

“You’ve enough to feed an army in here,” he said, dragging his gaze away from her décolletage. A pamphlet fluttered to the floor and he swiped it up, relieved to have something useful to do. “And dry cleaning coupons?”

“Those are for you. Compliments of Leroy over at Snowy White’s.” Another one of her sunny smiles lit up the dreary room.

“I’ve never gotten a coupon from Leroy in ten years of taking my suits there. He must really like you.” Instead of staring at her like a halfwit, he busied himself with fetching napkins and silverware, while Belle dished up plates piled high with garlic shrimp, Singapore noodles, fried rice, and boneless spare ribs.

The steam rolled off the food in white, puffy waves, making his forehead tingle. A few minutes later they were ready to sit down, and his buzz was already wearing off. He leaned against the counter for support; his face felt numb, his tongue two sizes too big for his mouth. How stupid would he look if he dropped his food? His sweaty hands tightened around the edges of his plate as he shuffled toward the kitchen table.

“I’m hot,” he blurted, his leg twitching when Belle chose the chair beside his. “I meant the food is hot. Not me. I’m not hot…” His upper lip prickled with sweat, and he blotted his face with a napkin.

Belle set her fork down. “Gold?”

“Yes?”

She smiled, her azure eyes soft and kind. “Relax, okay? It’s just takeout, not an interrogation.”

“I appreciate that, Belle, but I need to say something.”

“All right.” She folded her hands and bit down on her lower lip.

“I’m really sorry for my behavior at the shop a couple of weeks ago.”  He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “The movie was inexcusable, but so was my treatment of Miss Lucas.”

“It’s all right. I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have left without saying goodbye. Ruby was rude to both of us, and it made me so angry I couldn’t see straight. And then I saw you out at the market and on the street, but I didn’t know what to say. So many times I started to walk over and talk to you, but I couldn’t get the words out.”  She bit her lip again. “Then a friend gave me some advice. He told me if I truly cared about this—us—I had to find a way in, break the tension. So here I am.”

“I’m glad.” The tightness in his chest loosened and he twirled a forkful of lo mein round and round while it cooled. Knowing he wasn’t alone in his nervousness—or his growing feelings—gave him more hope than he’d had in a long time. “And you don’t owe me an apology, Belle. Nothing that happened was your fault.”

“You know—” she placed her warm, soft hand over his—“we spend an awful lot of our time together apologizing and explaining ourselves. Let’s just eat some dinner and chat about normal things.”

He turned his hand over and squeezed her fingers. “I would like that.”

She scooted closer, until their knees touched under the table. “How was your day at the shop? Have you acquired any fascinating new objects?”

“Knock, knock.” Neal entered through the back door, an arm draped around Emma Swan’s shoulders. “Hiya Pop. Is this a moo shu pork party?”

Perfect.

“It was a party for two,” Gold muttered under his breath. He dropped his fork on a sigh, his hopes of a quiet evening  with Belle dashed. For once, things had been going well and selfishly, he didn’t want to share her or open himself up to embarrassment. “As usual, son, your timing is impeccable.”

“Yeah?” Neal chuckled, eyeing the countertop filled with takeout boxes. “I’ve got a talent for sniffing out Chinese.”

Gold snorted. “I think you mean food in general. Belle, this is Bae, er, Neal, and his girlfriend, Emma.”

“I remember.” Belle grinned at his son and Emma, welcoming and gracious as always. “Join us, please! And help yourselves—I brought plenty.”

xoxo

It hadn’t been the Saturday night she’d planned, but it was the most pleasant one Belle had spent in weeks.

Buoyed by Leroy’s pep talk, she had abandoned her cheeseburger and stomped up Gold’s porch steps, her stilettos clicking in time to the nervous thump of her heart. She rang the doorbell and held her breath, clutching the oversized sack of Chinese food to her chest like a lifeline. She’d never shown up at anyone’s house with dinner unannounced. Maybe she should have called first to make sure he was home, or hadn’t eaten, or if he still liked Chinese food, or…

Belle, you think too much. Leroy’s encouragements echoed in her ears.

But she needn’t have worried. Gold’s home was an extension of his shop—comfortable and resembling a museum in its vast collection of things; teeming with gleaming wall-to-wall hardwood, threadbare area rugs, and antiques of all shapes and sizes. Then there was the man himself who, beneath the grouchy exterior, was so much more than met the eye. His insightful questions about the library and his admiring glances made her feel intelligent and special, and she felt herself redden when he insisted on pulling out her chair when she rose from the table.

After a lively dinner, Belle, Gold, Neal, and Emma moved to the den to nibble on Mr. Wong’s trademark fortune cookies and fresh oranges. Belle sank into the leather loveseat and patted the spot beside her. Gold looked surprised, but he moved his arm over the back of the sofa and edged half an inch closer. Belle frowned; she would have to work harder on putting him at ease and showing him his touch was welcome.

“Thank you for dinner, Belle.” His lips almost grazed her ear and Belle shivered in delight. “Everything was delicious.”

“That Chinese was money and I’m stuffed.” Neal dropped onto the couch opposite the loveseat with a groan. “Caps lock on the delicious, Belle.”

“My pleasure. I’m so glad you enjoyed it.”

“Anyway, how is work at the library? I mean, I don’t really do the thing with the…” Neal mimed turning pages. “Ya know, with the books?”

“Reading?” Gold supplied dryly, and they all laughed.

The younger man was goofy, but his wide grin and the laugh lines bracketing his generous mouth were absolutely charming, reminding Belle of his father’s cautious, lopsided smile. Every so often, Gold grinned wide enough to showcase his generous dimples and Belle’s heart fluttered. She wanted to press a kiss to his cheek and nuzzle her face against his whiskers. She wanted to sink her hands into his hair and pull him in for a kiss, right in front of Neal and Emma.

If she was attracted to Gold before tonight, watching the interactions between father and son had her half in love with him. Their gentle squabbling was endearing, the way Gold pretended to be put out with his son, yet pride was an undercurrent in every word he said.

“But I dig on the whole movie thing you’re doing outside,” Neal added, scanning Netflix in search of something for them all to watch.

“Me too,” Emma hollered from the kitchen where she was making hot chocolate. “I like the way you mix new releases in with classics.”

“Papa loves to read, though. He likes orchestra and opera and poetry.” Neal carried a fistful of fried noodles to his mouth. “All that classy shit. Just like you.”

“Your father—and his love of ‘classy shit’—is absolutely charming.” Belle linked her arm through his and sidled closer until she and Gold were seated hip-to-hip, thighs pressed together, his delicious, spicy scent making her nostrils flare and the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

“Charming, huh?” Another grin split Neal’s face, and he leaned forward, warming to his task of would-be matchmaker. “You know, he’s an animal lover, too.”

Belle squeezed Gold’s knee, delighted when he jumped a bit. He wasn’t as unaffected by her as he pretended to be. “Yes, you have quite a few strays coming to the side door of the shop for scraps, don’t you, Gold? Before you know it, you’ll have a pet of your own.” She cocked her head and sipped her Gewürztraminer, hearing another tiny mewl from outside. “Speaking of animals, I’ve been hearing barking from the direction of the backyard all evening. Do the neighbors have a dog?”

The patter of tiny feet clicked against the floorboards, and a half-grown chocolate brown pug with a square face rounded the back of the sofa and jumped into Gold’s lap.

“Oh!” Belle squealed.

“Your dog was crying outside, Mr. Gold,” Emma called. “So I let him in.”

“This isn’t my dog.” Gold crossed his arms and tried to wriggle away. “He’s just another stray. Take him back outside.”

“Right.” Neal snorted. “You just feed him and let him sleep here. Makes total sense. I suppose that’s not his water bowl out in the pantry, too.” He lifted a stack of mail. “Look, here’s his vet bill—right on top.”

The puppy wormed against Gold’s chest, nudging Belle out of the way with a plaintive moan, then attacked his master’s face with a long pink tongue.

“Oh, he loves you, Gold. Adorable, darling thing!” Belle cooed at the puppy and scratched him behind the ears. An animal lover herself, she spent every Saturday morning at the Storybrooke Animal Shelter. Sometimes she would sit on the tile floor and cuddle the dogs for her entire shift. “What’s his name?”

“He doesn’t have a name. He doesn’t live here because he doesn’t belong to me, the little beastie.” To prove his point, Gold scooped the puppy up and deposited him into Belle’s lap.

“Why are you such a hard ass?” Neal shook his head.

“Years of practice.” Gold waved a hand. “But if you don’t like it, feel free to move out of your old bedroom and into your own place.”

“I think he’s hungry,” Belle said, ignoring Gold’s harsh words and gruff demeanor. The grooves in his forehead softened when he looked at that little wrinkled black face, the same way they did when he looked at his son.

“I don’t think we should feed a dog Chinese food,” Emma announced, returning from the kitchen. She tapped the dark frame of her glasses. “Too rich for his stomach.”

Neal nodded. “You’re right, babe. How about a piece of that leftover pizza, instead? Pizza crust is a lot like a bagel.”

“Great idea. I’ll go get it.” Emma went back to the kitchen, her long ponytail swinging behind her, and Belle hid a grin as Neal watched her go. He was head-over-heels with the lovely, no-nonsense blonde, and Belle thought they made an excellent match.

Belle squinted in thought.  She didn’t wish to intrude, but feeding a puppy takeout was never a good idea. “What about puppy chow?” she suggested.

They all looked at Gold, who opened his mouth, then clamped it shut without saying a word.

Neal sent his father another feigned disgusted look. “We don’t have any. He’s not our dog.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Gold muttered. “His food is in the closet at the top of the stairs.” He turned to Belle, his amber eyes wide and beseeching. “Please don’t tell anyone about this.”

“You have my word.” She splayed her hand over her heart, which was now pounding  so hard she thought the entire neighborhood could hear it.

Forget halfway; she was almost certainly three-quarters of the way in love with him.

###

[ecotone99]

[RF] The Part-Timer

\beep beep\**

“Okay Doodle, stop.”

It promptly stops.

Time for another day.

“Okay Doodle.” It lights up, showing me it's listening. “What’s up?”

“Here’s ‘What’s up’ today. The high today will be 72 degrees, expect partly cloudy skies and..”

As it's words melt together and my attention loses focus I stretch and sit up and bed. Reluctantly, I step out onto the floor and so starts my day.

I head towards the bathroom, piss, shower, brush my hair. A routine so automatic that it makes me feel like a machine, like I’m running on steam and doing what someone else built me to do. As I look in the mirror I notice the bags under my eyes,they’re especially heavy today. A little work on my face and off I go, and as I stand by the door fully clothed in my WcDonalds uniform I turn and look at my Doodle Home.

“Okay Doodle.” It’s light turns on, it’s listening. “Simon says …’I love you, have a good day’.”

It’s light blinks for a second.

“I love you, have a good day.”

I smile and walk out my apartment, locking the door behind me, my small handbag thrown over my right shoulder as my body carry me to a place where my brain doesn’t want to be. Thursday afternoons are pretty hit and miss, maybe we’ll be slow today, and I’ll be able to take it easy.

As I walked in the door, I couldn’t believe what I saw.

“That’s what I get for wishful thinking.”

“Oh! I’m so glad you’re here, I know you technically have another 15 minutes until you clock in but as you can see, we’re a little swamped here, would you mind starting a little early?”

I sighed, “No problem.”

Walk in the back, punch in my card and take my place in front of a register. Just like usual.

I turn to my manager, “Hey, how come we still have a punch clock, isn’t that a little old fashioned?”

“If it’s not broke then don’t fix it, right?”

“That’s the thing, it IS broke, I usually have to punch in my card four or five times before it’ll actually punch it, I got lucky today though, one punch!”

I can tell she wasn’t fazed by my half-assed enthusiasm.

“Let’s chat later shall we? We’ve got hungry customers!” she said with half-assed enthusiasm of her own.

“Sure.”

Almost immediately a line formed in front of me.

There I saw the first customer I fell in love with that day.

He was about five foot, seven inches tall, and a bit chubby, especially for his age which looked to be about twenty. His mossy eyes were a beautiful dark green and his shaggy brown hair was just frazzled enough to be cute. I could tell he was a wonderful person just by what he ordered.

“Uh, yeah, let me get a number six with a watermelon soda.”

The number six was a grilled chicken sandwich with lettuce and tomato on a wheat bun. Instead of regular fries it came with sweet potato fries, and the watermelon soda although tastes rather sweet, actually has less sugar than most sodas we have here. I can tell that even though maybe he was maybe not the best looking for his age that he was at least trying with the lower calorie meal. It wasn’t long after he ordered his meal that I realized I loved him, his passion, his aspirations, his willingness to succeed, was just so inspiring. To see someone push themselves the extra mile, to see them persevere, to see someone who recognizes their faults and seeks to improve speaks volumes about their courage and is a testament to how wonderful they are as a person. I knew for sure I was in love.

I stared at him while he ate his meal, half-heartedly taking other customers orders. He mostly stared down as he ate, looking up at me every now and again. I suppose I’m not the only one who felt what I was feeling. Within minutes he was gone, he must’ve been in a rush because he ate rather quickly. Regardless, I look forward to seeing him again some day.

The second person I fell in love with today was a bit different.

He was very tall, at least over six feet. He had a clean haircut and was dressed somewhat formally, with a dress shirt unbuttoned at the top but still tucked into a pair of slacks.

He ordered the number three, the double burger with bacon and fries, which surprised me a bit considering he was a rather slim man. He must’ve been one of those extremely fortunate souls born with a naturally high metabolism. People like that tend to take things for granted although I suppose it's not really his fault. It's like when people say not to feed the baby animals near your home otherwise they’ll never learn to get food from themselves, he’s simply used to living a certain way because he was never taught any better. I would love to give him the helping hand he needs, to be there for him when he needs me, and to help him be the best version of himself he could possibly be.

He took his meal to go, which was sad as I wished I could’ve watched him eat but it’s only a simple matter of time before I see him again, I’m sure.

The third person I fell in love with today was completely unlike the two before.

She was rather short, with beautiful brown eyes and blonde hair, but what really got me was her sense of style. She was wearing black bell bottom jeans with white boots, and a white crop top.

She ordered the-

“Um, excuse me! I think you were supposed to clock out an hour ago!”

“Uh, no I’m pretty sure I was supposed to clock out at four.”

“Yes, well, it’s 5:45 now.”

I looked at the clock behind me and sure enough it read 5:45.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry let me clock out-”

“Honey, Let's make sure that we pay closer attention to the time tomorrow, and also try not to drop another order of fries or else soon enough we’ll have potatoes coming out the ground.”

I don’t even remember doing that.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Walk to the back, clock out, grab my bag, go home, the end of another day.

As I’m walking home I check my phone for notifications and get excited as I see a text message in my inbox, but when I click on my inbox I see that it's just an automated message reminding me to vote during the next election, funny how I’m still not even registered to vote yet.

Slowly but surely the embarrassment from my mistake at work starts catching up to me, and my thoughts take over my mind for a short time.

I can’t believe I made myself stay in that place any longer than I possibly had to, and worst of all was the way my bitch of a manager handled it, everybody makes mistakes right? Nobody’s perfect right? That doesn’t mean you should treat people like shit, right? Maybe she doesn’t think I am people, maybe she thinks I’m just her robot, maybe I am.

As I finally make it back to my apartment I feel an almost overwhelming sense of relief and comfort now that I’m home. From there it's just the end of another day. I go to my room where I practically rip my clothes off me and throw them on the floor, walk to the living room and put The Workspace on my TV as background noise, walk to the fridge and get a beer and chocolate bar, plop on my couch, browse random social media apps on my phone.

Eventually it gets time for me to do my nightly ritual, I put on a face mask and grab my journal and pen. My black composition book. I open it up and begin logging down all the people I fell in love with today, writing in detail all of my thoughts and giving them a cute name I think would fit them. Three more were added today. It's funny to think but I didn’t always keep one of these but I read online once that keeping a journal can help with depression so about a year ago I started keeping track, every day I would log every person I fell in love with. With these three additions that brings the total up to 567.

I close the journal and hold it to my chest, hugging it firmly. When my journal is against my chest all I can feel is warmth, and love, overwhelming love. I carry it into my room, still hugged tightly against my chest, and lay down with it. This time every night is when I feel the most loved. With one arm hugged snuggly onto the journal, I use my other to pleasure myself. Using my fingers, wishing it was someone else.

————————————————————————

\beep beep\**

“Okay doodle, stop”

Another lousy day.

“Hey doodle, what’s up?”

Another blur before I’m about to walk out the door.

“Okay doodle, simon says “I love you have a nice day”

It blinks it’s thinking lights.

“I love you! Have a nice day!”

What day is it today? Doesn’t matter really.

Lock the door.

Walk to work.

Small talk with manager.

Clock in.

Stand in front of register.

Here I am, yet again, as the gatekeeper of the obesity epidemic. Today’s a slow day at least, not too many in, not too many out. It’s almost too slow of a day in fact. I’ve only seen a few dozen people, and none of them yet have been worthy of being my lovers.

As the day draws to an end, I look at the clock, “this time for sure, I won’t go over”. Just five more minutes. On a slow day like this, probably just one more customer.

I look towards the door eagerly, when finally I see a plain looking man walk in. Probably around his mid twenties, pretty unremarkable.

“How can I help you?”

“Uh, yes can I get a number six with a watermelon soda?”

“Will that be all for you today?”

“Um, could you repeat my order please?”

“A number six with a watermelon soda?”

“One more time, I love the sound of your voice!”

“Um...a number six with a watermelon soda.”

He chuckles, “Yes, that’s right. You’re very pretty, y’know?”

I can’t help but blush just a little bit,

“Uh, thank you.” I say with a bit of a nervous smile.

He pays, I give him his food, he sits down to eat. I can’t help but stare at him, I thought he was rather plain looking but he was actually kind of sweet. His kindness, made me fall in love with him.

Just like with all of my other lovers I just stared at him as he eats, but unlike my other lovers he actually was staring at me right back! Smiling, as he messily eats his food, and I just blush and smile as we stare at each other.

As he finishes his meal and throws away his trash and walks up to the counter.

“Anything else I can help you with sir?” I say cheerfully.

“Yes, actually, are you busy tonight?”

He suddenly has a bit of a cocky smile on, which I didn’t quite expect.

“Well, um, no, not particularly.”

“Well how about this, you give me your address, and at six o’clock tonight I meet you there, you let me in, and we can get to know each other, sound good?”

I nod my head nervously as I struggle to maintain eye contact.

“Sir, um, I can give you the address right now, if you want to put it in your phone.”

“Oh yeah, of course!”

I give him my address and he puts it in the notes of his phone.

“Thank you, sir.”

He grins a bit, “Y’know I do like being called Sir but my name is James. And let’s see, your name is...”

He kinda looks at my uniform kinda weird, scanning me up and down.

“Huh, you’re not wearing a name tag are you?”

I touch my chest trying to feel for my name tag there, shit, out of all days for me to forget it has to be today!

“Hmmm, well, we’ll have plenty of time to figure that out later! I’ll see you at six!”

He walked out, and my time was up, I clocked out but didn’t start walking home until I noticed he was long gone, I didn’t want him to think I was weird, I probably should’ve told him I got off sooner, ugh, why didn’t I tell him I got off sooner!

Actually this is good, this gives me time to go home and clean up.

Clock out.

Grab bag.

Run out.

It’s almost as if I can’t get home fast enough. I’m running, when was the last time I ran?

Finally I rush in my apartment and start tidying up best I can, spraying air freshener everywhere to try and mask the scent of beer.

Before I knew it, six o’clock is here, and I hear a knock on my door, right on the dot.

I let him in, he smiles.

“Oh, sorry did you just get back from work, we could’ve done this later on if it would’ve been easier for you!”

I was trying to figure out what he was talking about but then I looked down and realized I was still in my uniform, I was so busy trying to tidy the apartment up that I totally forgot to change.

“Uh, no, it’s fine, Uh, you wait out here let me get dressed! Talk to doodle in the meantime.”

I dash to my room, which at least is tidy, I threw all my clothes on the floor and grabbed a t shirt and some sweats then went back out to meet him.

“Ah, the casual look, I like it!”

I just chuckle a bit nervously, “...thank you…”

I point him over to the couch and we both sit, I just kinda look at him awkwardly, but he’s unbelievably calm and poised, I guess I’m the only one at this age who hasn’t done this a million times already.

Eventually he breaks the silence,

“So, what sort of stuff are you into?”

“Oh! Uh, I like cartoons and uh, chocolate, and beer.”

What am I saying?

He just burst out laughing, almost hysterically, which puts me at ease a bit.

He rubs his eye and says “You are funny, y’know?”

I smile kind of nervously as we look each other in the eyes. He starts to lean forward, oh god, is this it? He closes his eyes and puckers his lips, this is all too fast, I don’t even know this dude, he doesn’t even know me, this just doesn’t feel right.

I backed away, he looks surprised.

“Um, I’m sorry, I just, maybe we should get to know each other first?”

I see him pull away and kind of look at me for a second, giving me one of the warmest smiles I’ve ever seen. Then before I could even react I see him rear his hand back and slap me in the face, knocking me down on the floor.

He stands up, still smiling and chuckling a little bit.

“Y’know, I knew you were gonna be one of these types, I’ve done this many times before!”

I’m crying on the floor, he calmly gets on top of me and holds my arms down.

“You type of people make me sick y’know, too scared to do anything.”

He rips open my shirt.

“This is too easy.”

He starts rubbing his hands all over me. I feel disgusting, I don’t love this man, I don’t love anyone, I’ve never loved anyone. How could I let him do this to me?

My arms are no longer restricted, his hands are violating my body, I have to do something. I look at his face almost helplessly, and he still has a big smile, grinning ear to ear. So I shoved part of both of my hands in his mouth and started pulling his cheeks apart as hard as I could, almost as if I was trying to tear his mouth open. He tried to bite down but my fingers were on the outside of his teeth, and I was tearing apart a lot of his skin.

Eventually he pried me loose and fell backwards. I ran to the kitchen to grab a knife from a drawer. Right as I pulled it out, he pulled out one of his own from his pocket and stared right into my eyes, blood oozing from his mouth.

“C’mon then, bitch.”

We both stood there, looking at each other, knives in hand, he runs towards me and lifts his knife in the air.

My knees were barely holding my body up, and my body was only running off pure adrenaline.

He lets out a loud shriek into the air, his intense yell eating up the deafening silence in the room as he runs toward me about to bring the knife down into my neck.

I stick my hand up in the air and let him pierce the knife right through my hand, I can’t help but feel the pain, and let out a loud scream of my own as I plunge my knife right into the center of his stomach. As soon as I do so he coughs up blood onto my face, his face only centimeters away from mine.

He chuckles a bit and looks at me with horror in his eyes, but he still has that damn smile on his face, distorted, bloodied and hanging off what used to be his mouth.

“Guess ya got me, huh?”

He fell straight on top of me, his blood pouring out all over me as I just sobbed silently.

“Hey doodle, call the police.”

It’s thinking lights blinked.

“Okay, dispatching the police to this location.”

“Hey doodle, I love you.”

It’s thinking lights blinked.

“Thanks!”

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