#this man went out of state for high school friends birthday parties instead of attending TWO FUNERALS WITH YOU

[medusasbush]

.

[1kook]

right place, wrong time

— a someway, somehow jungkook drabble summary Home was Jungkook, it had always been Jungkook… but it wasn’t this Jungkook. warnings angst, heart ache, its actually kinda sad :/ lmfao, jk is a little... uh... como se dice.... jerk without realizing it.... justice for oc.... also there’s a scene where oc throws up so !! rating m wc 1.5k

notes THIS TAKES PLACE 5 YEARS BEFORE SWSH ITSELF ! OK ! enjoy <3 i wanted to try writing angst again <3 also i have no self control i said i would post this in 7 hrs yet here i am. and its not proofread <_<

When you were kids, the fact Jungkook’s birthday fell early on into the school year was a huge deal; everyone in your class was invited, both new and returning students, and the event itself was practically the opening scene to the school year itself. As you got older and he began to move away from colorfully decorated parties, his early birthday still earned him a lot of attention, had everyone at your high school congratulating him from the moment the first bell rang until the last. There weren’t any grand birthday bashes during high school, but the Jeons were a loving family, party or no party, and always got him a cake to celebrate each new year. 

Up until you left for college, you had never missed Jungkook blowing out the candles for his birthday. Be it a backyard party bustling with kids or a smaller affair at his favorite restaurant, you had always been invited, always cheered for him with each new year of life he welcomed. 

As a kid, you had always been adamant on getting the spot closest to him as you sang happy birthday, beaming at your best friend like he was your entire world. His childhood photo albums had been proof of that, filled with a chronological sequencing of every birthday he’s had with you at his side, your smiles changing with the times— from missing teeth to full of braces, you had always been at Jungkook’s side. 

As a young-adult, you had to bite down your pride and watch Sojin fulfill that spot. 

You had missed his last two birthdays since entering college. Your first year away from home, everyone you knew warned you about not going home too early into the year, something about how it would solidify your homesickness and you’d never be able to assimilate afterwards. So you had congratulated Jungkook from Taehyung’s phone screen, greatly appreciating the way Taehyung angled the phone away from Sojin as best he could. Then your second year, you had been drowning in that first wave of projects and essays, and simply couldn’t squeeze a five hour drive there and back into your schedule. Jungkook understood; there was no party this year, just a simple family dinner. The video call ended soon after you congratulated him, his attention drawn away by the voice of another woman you knew all too well. 

For his twenty-first birthday, Jungkook was adamant that you attend. He had told you about it before you had left for the new semester, bent over by the front wheels of your car, making sure everything was in tip-top shape before you went off again. His t-shirt was drenched in sweat, trails running down his hairline, over the prominent veins of his neck.“I want you there,” Jungkook had said, taking your offered hand as he stood back up. He must have miscalculated— or maybe it was on purpose —his step, because when he stepped forward, he was all too close. He didn’t let go of your hand. “Please?” 

Your eyes flickered over his chest, to his neck. He smelled like home, or at least the image of it you had created in your mind during your last two years away. Home was lavender fabric softener billowing over you in waves, the faint traces of this morning’s cologne, the subtle scent of his metallic work tools. It was his chocolate curls tickling his eyebrows, his easygoing smile, the way he pulled you closer, made the scents wash over you all over again. 

It was Jungkook. It was Jungkook. It was Jungkook and his warm touch. It was Jungkook and his softened gaze. Home was Jungkook, it had always been Jungkook… but it wasn’t this Jungkook. It wasn’t this Jungkook and the hickey on his neck. 

The sight made your stomach recoil, eyes quickly averted from the site of the crime. He had gotten here later than usual, said something about having to take Sojin somewhere first. So that’s what that meant. Jungkook, unaware of the fact the collar of his t-shirt has let you in on his private life, squeezes your hand. “You’ll come, won’t you?” 

And you were stupid and you were in love, so of course you said yes. 

It’s a cookout this year, his backyard filled to the brim with relatives and friends and so many cans of beer you don’t know what to do. His parents are ecstatic for your return, babbling on and on about how much he missed you for the last two birthdays. You take it in stride, and maybe in a different timeline you would have believed it, but not this one. Aside from greeting you at the door and taking your keys off your hands, you had barely seen the birthday boy all day. You mingle with old friends, his relatives, tentatively sip at your can of soda. You’re tired, the long drive having sapped the majority of your energy for the day. 

Sometime around sunset, you meet eyes with him across the yard. Jungkook smiles, he always smiles. You okay? he mimes with a thumbs-up, and you want to say yes, but Sojin is sitting on his lap, an obnoxiously loud display, and when he puts his hand back down, it immediately finds its home on her thigh. You send him a half-hearted shrug, play it off like you're still a little carsick from the long drive here. 

(Truthfully, you are sick, but you’re not sure it’s from the drive.) 

Even at twenty-one, his family maintains their tradition and sings him happy birthday. With your return, his mother delegates you to cake cutting duties again, so you’re on standby for the song, at his side with the cake cutter in hand. Jungkook is grinning from ear to ear, Sojin attached to his hip, his arm sling around her shoulders. His family sings and sings, and Jungkook is happy. His eyes jump around the table, taking in the sight before him the way he does every year. And when they reach you at his side, Jungkook beams, reaches for your hand beneath the table and squeezes, all the while keeping his girlfriend closely hugged to his other side. 

You cut the cake. Sojin gets her slice and promptly whisks Jungkook away. 

By ten pm, you find yourself in his upstairs bathroom puking your guts out. It’s the carsickness, you tell yourself, or maybe the cake frosting, throat gagging around nothing, tears clinging to your lash line. But is it really?

“__?” someone says, and you make a weak attempt to turn towards the door. You don’t know what you expected— had you actually wanted Jungkook to find you in this sorry state? —but it isn’t Jungkook. “Shit, what happened?” Taehyung worries, hurrying to your aid. And you’re grateful that there’s someone here to help you, to save you from yourself and your stupid, heartbroken thoughts. But it’s not the man you want it to be, and that has you squeezing your eyes shut tightly, until the mascara on your lashes imprints itself against your under eyes instead. 

The man you want bumps into you downstairs, catches Taehyung helping you into the spare bedroom to lie down. “__?” Jungkook calls out, eyes big and scared. “Where— what’s going on?” he asks, thrusting his plate into Sojin’s hands before rushing to your side. He grabs your forearm, and the touch burns, so you yank yourself away. 

Faintly, you hear Taehyung explain. “She’s sick,” he says, pulling you closer. “She’s been out of it since she first got here. I think it was the long drive.” Yes, it was the long drive, you agree. 

Jungkook, unfazed by your first recoil, reaches for your arm again. “I’ve got her,” he tells Taehyung, underestimating his strength when he tugs you closer, has you stumbling into his chest. His rough handling makes your stomach tighten, your head feel dizzy. 

“Jungkook,” you gasp, hand on his chest. “Wait— I’m—“ And he’s trying to move you back up the stairs, probably into his bedroom to lie down. But the sight of the stairs and his overwhelming scent and the hickey on his neck, the hickey Sojin left on his neck, makes you nauseous all over again. 

Taehyung yelps in your defense. “Jungkook,” he scolds, carefully maneuvering you out of Jungkook’s harm’s way. “You’re making it worse.” 

From a few feet away, Sojin calls out his name. “Jungkook?” she says and her voice is so sweet, yet so sticky; it makes you gag. “Baby, they’re calling for you outside.” 

And everyone is saying his name, so he doesn’t know where to look, doesn’t know who to prioritize, not when everyone wants his attention. He looks at you, and your heart soars for a millisecond. Then it plummets when he settles on Sojin instead. “I— you’re right, Tae,” he sighs, backing off, letting go. “You got __, right?” Taehyung nods. “Call me if anything happens.”

And he leaves, slips his hand around Sojin’s waist and guides her out the door. He doesn’t look back, doesn’t even tell you to get better soon. He just leaves. 

Taehyung lays you down, doesn’t say a word when you start crying because he probably thinks it’s about your stomach and the vomiting. “It’s okay,” he soothes, helping you out of your shoes. “Does it hurt?”

Yes, you sob. It hurts very badly.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[the-omni-princess]

Beauty and the Beast (Soulmate AU)

Author: @the-omni-princess​

Summary: You wake up the day after drunkenly meeting your soulmate.

Prompt: “When did you learn how to figure skate?” // “I dunno.”

Word Count: 1.8K

Pairing: Bucky x Latina!(and Mutant!)reader

Warnings: fluff! Hangovers, seriously, so much fluff!!!

A/N:

@bitchassbucky for #abitchassholiday , and the casual sequel to Sleeping Beauty! [Read here!]

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I’ve been dying to write a Latina!Reader since I’m Latina! Here’s my first one. It's still pretty lowkey tbh but hopefully I can write one where it’s a bit more explicit the reader’s Latina! :D

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[Masterlist] [First part]

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Previously….

He did however, let you go, just as you stopped screaming. “Do… do you know who you are?” you tried in a soft voice, still on edge. Where the fuck was Mr. Star Spangled Ass?

“Bucky… My name was Bucky,” he whispered softly, now looking down at his chest where his mark had deepened in color to darker freckles, easily shown on his light skin.

Your eyes widened, looking down at your hand, your own freckles became more pronounced as well. “Holy shit,” you mumbled, just as Steve and Tony burst through the door, making you both jump.

“Bucky?” It took him less time to recover, now noticing both of you skimming your marks with your hands in shock. “Wait… are you two…?” His eyes glanced back and forth between the two marks.

You looked up towards the Super Soldier, unsure how to really explain the dare that tossed you at your soulmate. “Um…. Hi… Soulmate?”

--

James Buchanan Barnes, the infamous sidekick of Captain America, a fact you used to argue about in US History class when you were younger since who would call that hot guy the sidekick?!, just looked at you with a little tilt to his head. “Soulmate?” he murmured softly, looking down at his mark on his chest. His eyes widened as he took in the multitude of darker freckles. He looked back at you, following your own gaze to your hand, where the freckles had darkened on the underside of your palm. “Soulmate…”

“Well… that’s unexpected to say the least,” Steve muttered, both he and Sharon looking on with a bit of amusement.

Bucky looked up, noticing the blond couple for the first time. “Stevie?” His voice cracked, and even in your very buzzed state, you could tell Steve was also a little emotional.

“Hey Buck,” he replied, smiling sadly before looking again towards you.

You were now gripping the table for support, the room starting to spin. “Ay Dios, is the room spinning or is it just me?” Your eyes fluttered a bit, vertigo hitting you full force, just as Bucky rushed forward, catching you before you could hit the ground. You groaned softly, looking up at his face, a goofy smile lighting up your features. “Oh, yeah. You’re my soulmate. You know, I always thought you were cuter than Cap. Think I have a thing from brunet boys with pretty blue eyes, and your eyes are way more blue than I could have imagined with those black and white photos,” you continued to ramble, babbling on as the trio watched in amusement.

“First meeting with her literal other half, and she’s wasted,” Sharon sighed softly, now looking at you with pity.

“And the reindeer- hey! I’m not wasted!” You cried out before going back to your rambles.

Bucky just looked up at her, smiling faintly, as he held you up, “I can handle a drunk dame, better than my ma, she was a cursing drunk.”

Steve chuckled, helping Bucky lead you, very slowly towards the common room where you promptly passed out snuggled on a blanket on the sofa, completely oblivious to the fact that the former Winter Soldier was being introduced to the Avengers, while all he did was watch over you.

--

Searing pain lit up behind your eyes, and your temple was definitely throbbing. Groaning, you reached around your bed for your phone, freezing when you realized you were most definitely not in a bed. You looked down and groaned, you were also still in the party dress from last night, wrapped in a blanket that was also most definitely not yours. You inspected it, noticing the little cobwebs and widow symbols on the fluffy blanket. So, you were wrapped in Natasha’s blanket, the one you got her for her birthday last year as a joke. Looking around, you also realized you were in the main living common area in the tower.

“FRIDAY? How’d I get here?” you called out, groaning softly as you clutched your temples. You were most definitely hungover.

“I can answer that,” a voice called, one you recognized as Steve.

“Lower your voice, you menace, I’m nursing a shitty hangover.” You pulled the blanket over your face, covering yourself from the lights.

“We’re well aware of that, dollface,” a new voice joined in.

You stiffened, slowly dropping the blanket and looking at the man in front of you in surprise. “Hey Steve? I haven’t gotten drunk in a while, are hallucinations normal for being hungover?”

“Nope, I’m real.” Bucky stood, before kneeling beside you. “How much of last night do you remember?”

You gripped the blanket tighter, feeling a bit more exposed than you would like. “Last night? Why would I need-“ your voice died as you looked down at your hands, realizing the freckles that covered the palm of your left hand were darker. “Holy shit, please don’t tell me I met my soul mate and I was too wasted to remember,” you groaned, pouting up at Sharon who walked in. “You get a perfect, they-were-neighbors story, and I get the I-was-drunk story.”

“Not everyone can meet their soulmate because they literally bumped into them, besides,” Steve nodded towards Bucky, who was still kneeling beside the couch. “You literally fell for him.”

You looked back towards the brunet with horror written on your face. “Please tell me it wasn’t as cliché as Mr. Dramatically Yeets Himself Off of Planes Without Parachutes is making it out to be.”

“What does ‘yeet’ mean?” Bucky gave you a small confused look, one you have to admit was pretty cute. Okay fine, maybe he was your type. Dark-haired, pretty eyes, cute dimples when he was smiling. Okay so he was gringo, you could work with that.

“Throw, well basically,” you supplied, much to Steve’s horror.

“You do WHAT?!” Bucky cried out, making Steve cringe, and you whimper softly, closing your eyes in pain.

“Welp, we’ll let you two get well acquainted, sober at least,” Steve grabbed Sharon’s hand and hightailed out of the room.

Bucky didn’t give them a second look, now focused on you. “Damn, I’m sorry, after all your rambles last night I still forgot you would be hungover. Here,” he gently gave you some aspirin and water, which you promptly downed. “How about we do this right? I’m Bucky.”

“I’m well aware of who you are. Used to have fights with my friend in high school because she thought Steve was the cutest Howling Commando, when it was clearly you. Why am I still rambling?”

“It’s quite alright, I find it cute,” he gave you a bright smile, and your heart fluttered for a second.

You chuckled softly, smiling at him before sitting up, making room for him on the sofa as you told him your full name. “But that’s just the government name, everyone ‘round here calls me y/n/n, or FireCracker but that’s usually just Tony.” You gave him a smile.

“Why FireCracker?”

“Well, two reasons. One, I tend to keep talking and say my mind. And two,” you held up your hand, letting flames cover your fingers before they died out again. “I have powers…I hope that’s alright by you,” you whispered softly. Truth was, both the fact that you were Latina and were a Mutant were reasons you were teased and mocked growing up in all-white schools in the South. It was another reason who were so quick to join the Avengers when you were offered the chance. More diverse, and more accepting people. In theory at least.

“God, that looks absolutely amazing! Can you do it again?” Bucky gushed, eyes lighting up as he watched your powers. You smiled shyly, letting a small flame light up your palm. “Does it hurt?” He asked softly.

“Only if I want it to,” you looked up at him, caught a little off guard that he would be so interested in your powers instead of scared, it usually took people more time to get used to it.

“Woah,” he murmured, eyes wide as he took in the flames.

You smiled bashfully, secretly excited that he liked your powers. The flames died out, soon revealing the freckles again. Bucky hesitantly took your hand in his, his thumb rubbing over the freckles that marked the first place you touched, two souls finally coming back together again.

“How about I take you on a date, doll? A real one, since our first meeting didn’t go as expected.”

You blushed, nodding with a smile. “I know just the thing! We can go to the Rockefeller Ice Skating Rink, take in the whole Christmas season.”

His eyes lit up, “That ice rink is still there?!” he cried out, excitement thinly vied in his voice. “Gosh, I remember Stevie falling face-first when we were younger, had to patch up that nasty bruise on his cheek and a broken nose. Ma was pissed we went without my sisters.”

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you took in his joy. “I’ll take you, Bucky.”

--

“Well… its certainly different from when I was last here,” Bucky’s grip on your mittened hand tightened. Buried underneath scarves and jackets, Bucky helped you pull your beanie down. He naturally ran warm because of the serum, so he didn’t need as many heavy coats in the cold winter weather. You however, were more used to warmer climates, and this cold weather was not agreeing with you.

“Good different?” You took the skates from the attendant, handing Bucky his before attempting to tie up your own.

“Well the tree’s certainly bigger,” he chuckled, noticing your struggle to lace your skates up and helping you before tugging you onto your feet. Shimmying to the rink itself, gripping onto each other as the earth became ice underneath your feet. You yelped, clinging to him as he guided you on the ice. “And I have my soulmate in my arms, being an adorable mess,” he teased, chuckling as you shot him a glare.

“That’s no fair Buck! When did you learn how to figure skate?” You looked up at him incredulously, still struggling despite the fact that he was holding most of your weight up.

“I dunno.” He teased right back, a smug grin on his lips.

“Ya know, if I knew you would have been this self-satisfied, I would have just done a Christmas movie marathon with you instead, get you well acquainted with movies of this century,” you shot back, giving him a look that sent him into a fit of giggles – actual giggles.

“Well doll, the night’s young, and you have plenty to teach me.” He pulled you closer, making you realize you were dead center in the rink, a suspicious flash in the distance making you notice Nat taking picture of you two. He gently tilted your head up, locking eyes with you. “I just found you, dollface, I’m never letting you go,” he smirked, “my clumsy little soulmate.”

“Call me little or clumsy again and I’ll roast your ass, Barnes, literally,” you growled playfully, giving him a mischievous look, which told him you didn’t really mean it.

He smiled, his hand gently holding onto your face, “I look forward to it, doll,” he murmured, the distance between the two of you closing.

Closing the distance, you kissed him tenderly, arms wrapped around his neck, ignoring the flashes most definitely coming from Natasha. Here, cuddled up in your soulmate’s embrace, the hand that first touched right over his heart was now pressed against his cheek as you kissed. Surrounded by Christmas lights, sweet Holiday music, and children’s laughter as they skated around you two, it felt like your very own piece of a Hallmark movie. And who were you to disagree with Fate?

------

Tags:

Permanent Tags:

@minetticatinwonderland​  / @lumar014​ / @maniacproffesor​ / @gollyderek​ / @nerdy-bookworm-1998​ / @avengerstones​ / @momc95​ / @loving-life-my-way​ / @agentpeggybarnes​ / @marvelmaree​ / @thefridgeismybestie​ / miraclesoflove  / hello-fanfiction-goodbye-grades  / deathofmissjackson

Bucky Tags:

@cassandras-musings​  / @darkness-doughter​ / @novaddictx​​ / @thedancingnerdmermaid​ / @mood-pancakes​ / @gracethegeek9902​ / @ravennightingaleandavatempus​ / @sunkissedbarnes​​ / @annavega333​ / @im-not-an-armrest-im-short​

Some people who requested a sequel (lol):

@xetoilerouge / @amlocked​ / @bitsandbobsandstuff​

For a tag, just reply/comment, if I don’t see it, just message me. Tell me what you think! Literally, any comment makes me happy! Like, comment, reblog, interact <3

[tessarichardss]

new york’s very own tessa richards was spotted on broadway street , with a striking semblance to zoey deutch ! you may know them as @tessarichards or hitting the front page of tmz as ex-reality star rumored to have moved to new york for an internship with hassenfeld children’s hospital . according to tmz , you just had your twenty-fourth birthday bash . while living in nyc , you’ve been labeled as being guarded , but also tenderhearted . things that would paint a better picture of you would be endless nights you’ll never forget, sunflowers, running barefoot through an open field . ( cisfemale + she/her  ) +  (  saxon , twenty-six , she/her , cst )

Out Of Character

Hello bbies! 🥰 My name is Saxon and I’d like you to meet the absolute labor of my love Tessa and love her even though she doesn’t deserve it! We are always open for connections, ideas or plots so please, please, please do not hesitate to hit me up if you want to conjure something up with this lovable and ridiculous energetic puppy. I look forward to roleplaying with you and your children!

Basic Information

Full Name: Tessa Grace Richards.

Nickname(s): Tess.

Birthday: Febuary 10th, 1996. 

Orientation: Heterosexual.

Language(s) Spoken: English, Spanish.

Background

So Tessa was born to an unwed couple who were in their mid 30′s at the time, her mom thought the two of them were hopelessly in love until Tessa was four and dude just dipped? Her mom came home one day and all his stuff was gone, no note or anything, he drained their account and they haven’t ever heard from him since.

This obviously fucked Tessa up young because she has mad issues with love meaning anything and also abandonment, like she definitely doesn’t sleep well at night because she spent years waking up and running to the window every time she saw car lights, thinking it was him coming home.

Her mom is an absolute saint of a woman however (think Lorelai from Gilmore Girls meets Donna  Sheridan from Mamma Mia), just an absolute quirky angel of a woman who definitely took in and helped abandoned animals but was also the place all the kids in town knew they could go if they had shitty parents/living situations or just a bad day and they needed a safe place to go? So obviously she stepped up and took down all dudes pictures and just raised Tessa like the single boss she is.

Tessa grew up into like an angel of a kid but oh buddy was she a chaotic one. Total tomboy, full of insane energy and personality, always on the move and exploring and doing things she shouldn’t be. Definitely the type to show up back at home as the suns going down just covered in dirt and bumps and bruises. 100% knocked her own baby teeth out from falling and slamming her face and had two front silver teeth as a little kid.

She was never very girly and because she grew up in this southern town that was just full of very critical asshole kids from more well-off families than her own was, particularly the girls who were very prissy, she definitely ended up clicking more with boys and quickly became ‘one of the guys’. Like undoubtedly had an all male friend group and was definitely the girl that girlfriends would be paranoid about while all the dudes were like confused as to how their girls were jealous because Tessa was just like another guy/little sibling, there was no interest on either end.

She had two shitty relationships as a teenager, the first cheated on her because she wasn’t ready to have sex and then the second whom she actually gave it up to, turned out to just be with her on a bet to see how long it would take him to get in her pants? She ended up punching dude in the face when she found out and broke his nose and asshole’s family actually wanted to press charges until Mama Richards shut the shit down.

TW: SUICIDE ATTEMPT MENTION Has slight anger management issues? Like she’s chill but when she blows up man does she blow up. Pushed a girl down a flight of stairs at school after she made a remark about a friend who had tried to commit suicide, the family did press charges this time and Tessa had to go to anger management classes and serve community service hours. She also got kicked out of school and just decided not to go back, went online and just got her GED at seventeen instead.

She was (and still is) very close and attached to her mom, absolute most important person in her life, but she worried about her so much her mom realized she probably wasn’t ever planning on leaving? So her mom got the help of her friends and they actually filled out an application for her to go onto a reality tv show? Seems crazy but each season took place in a different part of the world and her mom knew she wanted to travel but would never make the decision herself so when she got cast her mom was just like “lol here you go bye now”.

She hated it at first because she had grown so used to Texas and the country and her friends and making sure her mom was okay that it gave her a lot of anxiety and stress but she actually fell in love with it? Made a lot of close friends, became a fan favorite of sorts and would you believe it, the dumbass fell in love.

This boy wormed his way into her heart and it was a kind of a slightly unstable relationship because she would try and push away from him and her feelings but he always drew her back? He even proposed after like months of them being together and she panicked and ran but still he drew her back and they agreed that they should chill with the idea of engagement/marriage? He ended up leaving the show after like their fourth messy break up? And she, would you believe it, followed. The two ended up sleeping together but she was overly aware of the fact that he wasn’t actually in love with her anymore so she saved herself any awkward conversation and further heartbreak by just dipping before he woke up. 

After this, Tessa returned to Texas and spent a solid week just out partying and drinking with friends and suddenly - BAM, she was having a one night stand with a complete stranger which was rather out of pocket for her and then even more suddenly - BAM, a pregnancy with no clue as to who the child’s father was. Thankfully it ended up being the one night stand’s and he turned out to be an incredible guy and father.

Obviously she never returned to the show and focused instead on becoming a mother and setting up a future for herself and her child.

She’s always been a big fan of kids (worked for a daycare after school, actually helped start up a charity that works with orphans/orphanages while on the show) and so she decided that she wanted to be a child life specialist and started attending school during her pregnancy and the two years that followed.

She ended up having a little girl named Addison, this child is her whole world and she’s 1000% the mom that posts about their kid too much on social media but she’s 100% turned Tessa’s life around and helped her mature in ways she wouldn’t have without her and she just loves her kid more than anything/anyone else. 

She assumed her life would remain in Texas until a trip to New York a few months back to visit Alex Morgan (who remarked on the fact that she should move in) ended with her packing up her daughter and her bags within less than a month and landing her in the state for the foreseeable future. 

She’s currently continuing her last year of school through online classes in order to get her bachelors while interning at the Hassenfeld Children’s Hospital. 

Personality

A dork? Literally the biggest dork, the dorkiest of dorks, just a whole friggen dork. This child rambles like you wouldn’t believe and her mouth 100% works faster than her brain so like you never know what to expect but she’s just a happy, friendly, sarcastic little bean with social anxiety and a heart of gold tbh.

Also an aggressive lil’ lady though, like 12/10 chance she’ll throw hands if you want to fuck with or say something about the people she loves.

A chaotic soul as well like down to party and have a good time and will definitely drink a dude under the table, definitely broke her ribs two summers in a row from a drinking game because this child doesn’t know when to slow down or chill out, she’s just trying to live.

Emotional as hell, like definitely cries during commercials and Disney movies, but like if you’re trying to tap into her serious emotions she’s gonna shut that shit down. She keeps people locked out tbh and just jokes about the serious shit in her life if she does talk about it.

Desired Connections

Friends? This is tricky because she was basically in Texas for most of her life and then traveling? But someone who lived in/visited Texas and they met? Someone she met while filming the show in some random country - they were living there or traveling and met while she was out and about one day? Maybe someone she met through her charity work? Someone who has a kid or a younger sibling/niece/nephew/godchild who she took care of at the hospital or even on a home visit and they met her/know her that way?

Exes? So her most recent ex is off limits because it’s based off a real connection but like either of her exes from high school? The first one would have had to have lived in Texas for some time but the latter could have been visiting friends/family for a summer? If anyone has a character that works for these I’m down for the drama, especially the second because Tessa is fully ready to break dude’s nose again.

Half siblings? So Tessa’s dad basically bailed when she was little - maybe he had another family? Could have had a kid before her who he also bailed on, could have started a family during the same time or after, he could have stayed there for them or bailed on them as well? They could know about Tessa, or neither could know about the other? Tessa pry wouldn’t know about them because she made it a point to never bother searching for this man let alone any family but literally I’m down for whatever other ideas you’ve got on this one!

Honestly Tessa needs some guy friends! Like I said she’s always been very much more one of the guys - would rather be drinking a beer watching a sports game and yelling than going on a shopping spree okay she has 0 interest, and since she moved from home she needs a new guy group to cause trouble with but also, who makes a better wing woman than a girl okay? Chaos friend but also mom friend rolled into one because she will get involved in shenanigans but will also call you out for acting dumb too.

Also here’s some open, wanted musing connection ideas; https://tessarichardsmusings.tumblr.com/tagged/tessa-%2B-open

Pinterest

[corinthbayrpg]

NAME. Violet Delacroix AGE & BIRTH DATE. 24 & May 16th, 1996 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Female & She/Her SPECIES. Witch ( earth + empathy ) OCCUPATION. Cocktail Waitress at Hypnos FACE CLAIM. Madelyn Cline

BIOGRAPHY

( tw: homophobia ) Violet Delacroix has always felt like her life was one long tightrope walk, the wire perpetually extending out far beyond the edge of her sight, but the consequences perilous for falling off. There was a certain burden to her family name, an expectation to live up to, set in place not just by her parents, but by the society in which they lived. An image of perfection to maintain outwardly, despite the cracks forming underneath the surface. Unfortunately for Violet, she was all too aware of those cracks.

Even as a little girl, the witch always seemed to be so attuned with other people. Teachers at school called her an empathetic child, without knowing how right they were. Though too young to recognize the hints of her own budding magic, the sign of who she would become, Violet felt aware of those around her in a way she didn’t know how to put into words. She connected with them, shared in their sadness and their joy, taking it into herself without even realizing it. And these feelings told her secrets, things that a small child shouldn’t be privy to. Like the friction between her parents, the resentment of her older sister, and the frustration of her brother. From the outside, they seemed like the perfect family, the highest standard of power and status in the community of witches in Chicago. On the inside, it felt like a family slowly rotting to the core.

That is not to say everything was entirely bad. Though her relationship with her mother always had a cold distance to it, Violet bonded greatly with her father Andrew and her siblings Camille and Lucian. She was the baby of the family, and all of them treated her as such, something which irritated her at the time, but she would later grow to miss. She grew into a girl with a passion for reading, almost never found without a book in hand, her favorite singer playing as background music at all hours of the day. She took dance classes and music lessons, and received the best instructors for honing her magic — an earth witch, just like her mother. A fact which Violet thought might bring them closer, but Annette’s cold stare never really softened when she regarded her children, no matter how hard they tried.

But no matter how the day went, it seemed as if nothing would waylay the terrors of the night. Plagued by nightmares from an early age, the youngest Delacroix began to fear sleep. The sleeping potions she was given always left her with a terrible groggy feeling, and no other protection spells laid against her mind did much to help either. It wasn’t until years later, when Violet was officially discovered to be an empath, that a workable solution was finally put forth. Unknowingly, she had been taking in the emotions of all those around her throughout the day, in particular their negative feelings, which affected her sleep at night. Only when she began to receive tutelage for her abilities as an empath, how to control what she both received and put back out into the world, did relief finally come.

Things got…. Better, after that. To a point. Not everything was so overwhelming to the young witch anymore. But it was never perfect; not like the outward image the Delacroix family projected. When both her older siblings went off to school, leaving Violet the only child left in the household, Annette’s attention was turned to her youngest daughter. Her mother’s standards were intense, an ever-reaching perfectionist who expected the same from her children, and the pressure only got more extreme after her brother’s scandalous departure. Things had been strange with him for a while, he came home from college once only to abruptly leave again after a mysterious fire in their father’s study. Though no one would tell Violet what had happened, she could only come up with her own conclusions, from the way she had seen him behave in his time at home, and the fact that their sister returned to their childhood home as well. Still, she never approached him on the matter, even when he appeared once again, deciding that he would tell her when he was ready. If only the day actually came. Instead, one day she came home to find both him and her sister gone completely.

Losing both of her eldest children affected Annette in a way Violet hadn’t seen before. Not out of concern for the welfare of said children, but for how it would be perceived by their social circle. The witches of high society Chicago were a gossipy bunch, itching for the newest scandal to use to propel themselves to higher standings. With both Camille and Lucian gone once again, this time with no promise of return, Violet’s success only became that much more paramount. And while one could say that she rose admirably to the challenge, it never seemed to be quite enough to satisfy. But she was poised to handle the burden, getting molded into an exemplary young lady, ready to carry on the legacy of the Delacroix name that both her older siblings had shunned.

One of the expectations placed upon her was that she would marry well, and to someone of their same status. Eager to embody the image both she and her mother wished her to hold, at the age of twenty-two Violet began to date the son of one of her mother’s superficial friends. She’d known him for most of her life, a relationship spanning from the days of their childhoods, and so it only seemed fitting that the two of them end up together. And it was okay. Not love, not like in all the books she’d read, but he was good to her and they were good together. They became the talk of their society, and everyone expected the pair to become a strong power couple to lead the next generation.

But something wasn’t quite right. She tried to ignore it, and did, for a long time. For nearly two years she buried the feeling inside, content that even if he wasn’t the love of her life, she would still be happy with the life they would have together. Or so she thought. But the truth has a way of making itself known, and for Violet, it happened on her twenty-fourth birthday. A magnificent party was thrown by her parents, everyone worth knowing in attendance, and right in the middle of the room with everyone watching, her boyfriend pulled out a ring and dropped to one knee. It wasn’t particularly unexpected, they both knew the connotations that came with their relationship when it began, but still, it was in that moment that the reality set it. Like a bucket of cold water to the face, Violet suddenly had to acknowledge the feelings deep inside that she had so desperately wanted to ignore — that marrying him, or any man, left her feeling sick to her stomach.

So she said no, and ran from the party. The young witch went to her father for comfort when the night was over, confessed to both her parents the fact that she couldn’t go through with it; couldn’t spend her entire life in a marriage that would be a sham, when the only time she’s ever felt the butterflies or giddiness of infatuation was around women. Andrew hugged his daughter, kissed her temple and told her he still loved her. Annette pulled her aside, a mother’s comforting grip on her arm, and spoke in low tones about how such information could ruin Violet. That it would be better for her, really, safer for her, if she kept it to herself. It was in that moment she realized what perhaps her older siblings had discovered long before; that the life that awaited her, if she stayed in Chicago, would never be a life she was truly happy with. And so with her father’s approval and one final goodbye, him even going so far as to take her to the airport, the youngest Delacroix left their family home behind once and for all.

She did not land in Greece immediately. It was a big wide world out there, most of it Violet had never seen, and though the thought frightened her, it was also exciting. She bounced around in the United States at first, exploring new cities in the comfort of her home country, before becoming bold enough to venture outside it’s borders. From England to France to New Zealand, she never stayed in one place for too long, unable to say exactly what she was looking for, only that she would know when she found it. Perhaps it was the pull of the veil that finally drew Violet to Corinth Bay, but within one day of arriving in the city, she had decided she found her place. Fortunate enough to not be cut off from her parents’ funds entirely — something she suspects is her father’s influence — Violet found both an apartment and a place of employment, and plans to set down roots for the long haul, unaware of the fact that both Camille and Lucian are already in the city.

PERSONALITY

+ cheerful, gracious, free-spirited - naïve, headstrong, perfectionist

PLAYED BY ABBY. CDT. She/Her.

[holasraiboo1971]

is that [AVAN JOGIA]? no, that’s just [ERICH TAILOR]. [HE/HIM] is [TWENTY EIGHT] years old and is an [ENGLISH TEACHER]. rumor has it they’ve been in town for [THREE MONTHS]. on a good day, they’re [INVENTIVE & OUTGOING]. but watch out! they can also be [PRETENTIOUS & CYNICAL]. [WASTELAND, BABY BY HOZIER] plays in my head whenever i think of them. can’t wait to see them around springhill! [fry, 22, est, she/her]

hello all! my name is fry! cannot wait to start writing with you all! if you like what you see, go ahead and like and i’ll come to you for some plots :)

ABOUT ERICH.

full name: erich malli tailor.

nickname: er (pronounced like the word air).

height: 5′10.

hometown: portland, oregon.

occupation: english teacher.

birthday: march 10th.

zodiac: pisces.

BACKGROUND.

early childhood.

erich’s therapist said once that sometimes people imagine things so often that they cannot tell if it is a real memory or not. unfortunately, that’s all erich has of his birth parents. fake memories of happier times.

what erich does know is that his mother was a teenager. she wanted to raise him on her own but simply couldn’t. now, as an adult, he doesn’t blame her or hold any resentment. 

growing up in the foster care system was all erich knew. switching from family to family created many longterm issues for him. as a kid, he had zero hope that he would ever be fully adopted. he had hopped in and out of so many different homes that he wouldn’t even unpack. 

erich didn’t have many friends. he liked it that way. he found saying goodbye to friends was harder than making them. so he was alone for the most part. 

adoption day finally arrived at the age of ten. a nice, liberal, lesbian couple who lived in the middle of san diego. they were kind and wanted to open their home to a kid who they wanted to grow to love. lucky erich. 

after his adoption, erich’s longterm issues would begin to rise to the surface. he showed lots of behavioral issues, signs of abandonment issues, and clear commitment issues. his new parents were there for him through every step of therapy. 

teenagedom.

things seemed to be turning around for erich. therapy was really helping him work through his issues, he was beginning to make friends, and his grades were starting to boost. 

his parents really pushed for him to get into the arts. mainly for mental health reasons, but also because they both appreciated the arts and wanted their son too as well.

it wasn’t long until erich’s hobbies and passions only consisted of artistic activities. watercolor painting helped him convey the loneliness and anxiety he felt growing up. creative writing helped him expand his imagination and patience. music was just fun for him.

he submitted short stories and poems into contests in high school and eventually won a couple. it was then that he realized writing was what he wanted to do in his adult years. 

around this time, erich was beginning to grow popular with the ladies at his high school. he had hit a growth spurt, he was beginning to grow into a self of style, and was beginning to grow into a handsome young man! however, erich was not interested in any of them.

to put things simply, it was a different time back then. this was the year lizzie’s iconic “that’s so gay” commercial had aired. there were plenty of developments that still needed to be made for the lgbtq+ community to be where it stood today. so, with this logic, why would erich want to come out as bisexual? he didn’t even know bisexual was a term.

so, erich would date girls publicly and cheat on them with guys behind their backs. things were going as smoothly as possible until one of the guys were outed. they then felt the need to out erich too. 

it was a dark time for erich. he was hated by most females, the males he had been seeing wanted nothing to do with him because of the amount of bullying he had started receiving, and all of his friends turned their backs on him. when things got really tough for him, his moms turned him to the typewriter and encouraged him to write.

erich and his moms ended up moving back to portland his junior year. a smart move and one that was definitely needed for him to grow. 

surprisingly, the culture was completely different in portland. he was able to become his true self in portland. he was surrounded by incredible friends and had an incredible support system.

erich came out as bisexual and finished a novel his senior year.

young adult life up to now.

erich never tried published his novel. he doesn’t think he ever will. it’s incredibly personal and he thinks it needs a ton of work. he’ll probably let you read the first chapter if you ask him though.

erich took a gap year to travel before attending college in oregon. he and his boyfriend from senior year roadtripped across the united states. unfortunately, the two broke up halfway back to oregon.

sadly, erich’s mother died of a car accident during his senior year of college. the two were extremely close and so it hit erich really hard. 

in college, you party. it happens. however, after erich’s mom’s death, the partying picked up for him, and that wasn’t all. erich’s drinking habits started growing to new heights. not only that, but erich had decided to do a couple party drugs in the process.

slowly but surely, erich’s grades began to drop and soon enough he was placed on academic probation. after that, he did the bare minimum to get his degree and that’s what he continued to do.

while erich desperately wants to be a well-known author, he has a feeling he never will be. so, he became an english teacher instead.

extras.

some of erich’s favorite places are when harry met jerry, cloak and stagger, and sunshine diner. he’s probably fucked up on something or working on another never-to-be-released novel. 

yes, erich teaches your high school aged children. sometimes, he shows up to class hungover. he is also an incredibly laid back teacher. there are also rumors going around the school saying erich sleeps with parents sometimes. despite all of this, he creates one of the safest spaces for his students and truly cares about them. 

erich is the sponsor for the high school GSA club.

erich has a puppy despite how much he hates dogs.

if i think of anything else, i’ll update!

WANTED CONNECTIONS

*means capped / taken.

other teacher friends. please. imagine the workplace gossip.

if your muse’s kid is 14-18, they probably have some sort of opinion on erich. let’s plot that out!

in regard to that second one, maybe the two have slept together?

matched on tinder / bumble. they could have slept together or the two just met and became friends that way!

friends w/benefits.

a good ol’ bromance pls.

enemies maybe????!!

if your muse works in at when harry met jerry, cloack and stagger, or sunshine diner, there is a chance that these two are going to see each other a lot. let’s plot that out!

erich has only lived in springhill for three months so most connections are going to be present connections so please keep that in mind!

erich has also cut ties with everyone from his high school / childhood so! none of those please!

maybe our muses went to college in portland together!

i’m pretty much an open book and love plotting ! 

ALRIGHT ! that’s pretty much it ! can’t wait to write with yall!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[angelicspaceprince]

Dewey x Crafter Reader Headcanons

Ive fallen down a rabbit hole of crafting and I can't get up. Help me. I write hcs to help save my soul

I'll also edit when I have computer access so then there is a read more button or whatever they're called, I can't find it on mobile

Wrote directly onto the tumblr app so if there are any mistakes that's why. No betas, we die by our spelling and grammar mistakes here

You were a crafter before you met Dewey, having taken up most crafts by the time you were 17

Sewing, needlepoint, embroidery, cross stitch, knitting, crocheting

You'd experimented with them all and even though each one had its merits, you definitely had your favourites

Then life happened. You had to start working, unable to attend college, and soon you had no time to craft. If you were awake, you were working

Mostly low paying jobs to cover rent, bills etc, taking on as many shifts as possible

It was actually during one of your shifts you met Dewey

You started working at a local music shop, mostly serving and organising CDs when a very excited Dewey rocked up, wanting to find the newest release for one of his favourite bands

You got to talking and realised that you had similar music tastes and, even though you really wanted to get to know him more, you had to remain professional. You were still on the clock

Luckily for you, however, you were invited to go see a group of local bands performing to celebrate your friend's birthday

You recognized Dewey the moment he stepped on stage and was in awe at his musical skill

You figured it'd be weird to go up to him and start talking because a) if he didn't recognize you then having a stranger come up to you and say that you remembered him from work would be odd and b) if he DID recognize you from work that'd be even odder

You didn't want to give off stalker vibes, so you stayed at the bar, content just to leave it

Dewey, however, saw you in the crowd and had a different plan in mind

Still riding the adrenaline high from being on stage, he walked straight up to you

"I don't know if you remember me, bu-"

"I remember you."

"Oh."

You both blushed heavily as you shift in your seat. "Drink?" You offered. "I....I liked talking to you earlier, I'd like to talk some more."

Dewey positively beamed at that, sitting down next to you as you effectively start ignoring your friend's birthday party celebrations in favour of talking to the man in front of you

The rest, as they say, was history

You ended up dating pretty quickly after you first met, moving in with each other after only dating for 6 months

It was an accident, you had your power cut off (again) and it was the middle of winter. Dewey offered you a warm place to stay temporarily and after 4 weeks of looking for a new apartment, he just said "you're already living here, just move in with me."

It made things easier, now there were two people contributing to bills

Rent was never paid in full, but something was always sent in

Patty wasn't impressed by that but Ned wasn't as fussed, just happy to have something coming in

It helped that he really liked you and felt that you were a good fit for Dewey

Even though things still remained tough, you were happy just to have a roof over your head and someone who loved you

When Dewey started working for Horace Green, things became easier

Bills were paid with his paycheck, yours became groceries and fuel money

Even then, for the first time in a long time, you had spare cash

Most went into savings but being able to afford your own Netflix account? Felt amazing

Despite having a bit of extra money, some habits were hard to break.

You rarely bought clothing from anywhere but thrift stores and Walmart, Dewey prefering Walmart but essentially doing the same thing

Unfortunately, that meant the clothing you had bought wasn't always the best of quaility, especially when Dewey was the one wearing it

Just the nature of his jumpy, clutzy, accident prone and slightly messy self meant you were constantly buying him new shirts and mending his sweater vests

To be honest, it was getting old

You'd also been missing crafting for a while so. Two birds, one stone

The next time you were in Walmart alone, you grabbed yarn and knitting needles and on the few days a week you were home alone, slowly you started to knit him some new sweater vests, using an old one that was beyond repair as the template to make sure each one fit

The first one was just a plain, fadded red to get yourself back into practice before slowly beginning to add simple designs similar to the few he owned now

Then a couple of weird themed ones, a couple of his favourite bands, one with music notes in the design, one that was birthday themed, one with mini guitars, whatever amused you and you thought would amuse him, you knitted onto the sweater

Each vest took three weeks to make. By the time his birthday came around, you had made him ten new vests, having kept it a secret the entire time

You were super nervous when he opened up his present, but the giant smile on his face was worth it, excited with the concert tickets you managed to get for the two of you (in the pit, of course) and with each new sweater, he got more and more excited

"These are amazing babe! Where did you get them?" He asked as he got up to try his favourite (the one with a replica of his Gibson knitted around the bottom) on

You go quiet. "I....uh.....I made them."

He looked over at you like you just admitted you had found a cure for cancer

You'd neglected to tell him of your crafting past, it never came up so you never said

Now, however, he was keen to see you craft

He never even dared to try it out for himself, but enjoyed watching you knit or crochet without looking at your work, watching TV or chatting to Dewey as you just continued to work

Every year, he got at least two sweaters from you, and you made sure to knit a sensible one and a silly one

What amazed you was the fact that Dewey seemed to have fewer accidents

He took extra special care of all of the stuff you make him, never spilling so much as a drop of coffee on them and tried his best not to get them snagged on the one sharp part of the doorway into his office

One day he came home, nearly in tears

You were folding up laundry but you dropped everything and came rushing over, thinking the absolute worst but instead he simply pushed something into your hands and said "I'm so sorry"

Turns out, he took off his vest when he came in to play a song with the kindergartners, something he now does daily as part of his role as music teacher

He didn't notice one of the kids grabbing it and wandering off with it

It was covered in paint, one of the Gibsons were cut out and the yarn was beginning to unravel, despite clear attempts to keep it from doing so

It was ruined

You hush Dewey as you pull him close and reassure him it's ok, you can make him another one

It took a while to settle him, he treasured everything you made him and he allowed one to get ruined

But once you assured him it was fine and you knew it was an accident, you ended up spooning in the couch as you mentally start planning the new sweater

A month passed when he found a wrapped up parcel on his desk

He was running late, didn't have time to grab a coffee and accidentally grabbed his vest with a massive hole in the back rather than one of your handcrafted ones

Still, he made it to the classroom before any students arrived, so he quickly opened it up and a huge smile plastered its way onto his face

A new sweater vest that was near identicle to his ruined one, a bit cleaner and better designed than the old one

You'd also made him a pair of socks, something you'd been experimenting with, with the AC/DC logos on the side

He found the note at the bottom 'Hope you have a good day. I love you. Y/N. P.S. These are not allowed near the kindergartners ❤'

He quickly changed into the sweater, feeling so much better than he did 5 minutes ago

The socks became his lucky socks and he'd wear them to his gigs, stating that it was like you were up there with him

He shushed you when you pointed out that it meant he was technically stepping on you, telling you "you know what I mean" before giving you a kiss

He'd give you requests for scarves, beanies, the lot. Socks were for bed or performances only, apparently, but everything else was worn whenever

You even made beanies and scarves for members of the band who wanted them, each having the School of Rock logo on it plus the kid's name

Dewey loves wearing and telling everyone about the stuff you make because he thinks it's absolutely incredible you're able to create something like this

And he treasures everything you make him

Most importantly, he's there to listen when you rant that the yarn isn't working like it should, or just about crafting problems in general, and be an ear as you problem solve an issue and is there to celebrate the victories when it finally works

Gets really good at yarn shopping too, picks up the brands you prefer and learns to read the packaging labels

Just

He loves the fact you can create something just like he can

[floosies]

Beechwood Park

pairing: 60′s au (Richard Madden x oc!poc!fem!Reader)

summary: In the late 60′s Cynthia was struggling model who’d just about reached her wits end and succumb to her parents wishes for her to continue her studies. Mr. Madden would say otherwise though.

warnings: age gap, smut, cursing, 18 + material

Series Masterlist

A/N: I think I hit the jackpot with this (fingers crossed though)

Actress inspo for the character is Judy Pace, she was well known in the 60s.

1. Humble Beginnings and Pink Ribbons

In 1965 Cynthia Ridge was an academic miracle sent from the heavens above to her family. A true prodigy of the finer things in life, she’d learned french, could read latin, and played piano as her pass times. Where her parents assumed this would grant her open doors to the thing they could never have themselves. 

Little did they know that what she really wanted was a break. Her friends were going to parties and dating boys while she sat at home writing honor roll essays. However, her birthday arrived in early November. With it came a moment of fate or pure luck. She was out shopping with her cousin when the woman who would become her first agent/manager came across her. 

Ingrid Beaumont was a french woman who’d made her living working for modeling agencies in Europe. One look at Cynthia and she knew there was the muse for the upcoming year’s fashion trends. It took a lot of pleading and negotiating with the teenager’s parents. At the end of it all though, she’d gotten herself a star client.

The first months were interesting, there was difficulty in the states. Getting her photo shoots was a nightmare, and Cynthia blamed the thinking of most people on it, but in the U.K.? Well it was different there, very different. When she did book a shoot in America, the copies were sent to a sister agency in London. By then she began to shoot ad campaigns for catalogs in the U.K.

At home tensions grew though. Her parents despised the french agent and what she’d made of their academically prized daughter. They fought constantly, so much so that by the end of the year she’d had enough. Cynthia knew deep down it was wrong, perhaps maybe even too far, but she couldn’t risk losing what made her feel happy. With the help of Mrs. Beaumont she was able to enroll at a college in England. 

Her parents would be under the impression that their daughter would be receiving a well rounded education and degree in the foreign nation. The truth could not be further from that assumption however. Instead she went to school for two semesters, meeting her closest friend Stella Darwin, with whom she moved in with after dropping out.

Cynthia’s modeling paychecks helped ease some worries at the start. It seemed that things were great for the two girls in London. Stella had graduated and worked at a high end boutique in Soho. So much for being a writer, nevertheless she hoped with the money she saved she would be able to make it happen in a couple of years.

It was a whirlwind for two years. Countless parties and events, meeting people over drinks. There was so much traveling too. Of course it was all courtesy of the famed Cynthia and her modeling career which gave them everything. The menagerie was lavish, it was everything any of the two could have hoped for. 

Neither one of them could have expected what would come though. How the agency would close down and leave the young American girl empty handed. Or Stella’s lavish Soho flat being taken from her through an eviction notice. Nevertheless, the girls persisted and finally came the breakthrough. After months of sleuthing she had found an agency looking for talent and she wouldn’t let the chance pass up. Without a hesitation she made a meeting with the head of the agency.

She’d been countless catalogs and even had the pleasure of meeting Princess Anne once. Yet not even the royals could save her now. It was early summer and the small flat she shared with Stella was beginning to become a stuffy chaotic mess of dresses and empty bottles of liquor. Stella was bent over the windowsill smoking her midday cigarette, “maybe going back home to Maryland wouldn’t be so bad love,” of course Cynthia gasped at the very thought. She looked at herself one final time in the mirror, “Maryland is a place I hope I never see again. Stella, darling, wish me luck. I have a good feeling about this interview today.” Her friend giggled a bit and kissed her cheek before she headed out to the spectacle that was the busy London streets.

The building was right in the heart of the city, small and disclosed. Inside was front desk and a small hallway. A blonde secretary typed away on her typewriter, “morning. Can I help you darling?” She spoke kindly, Cynthia nodded explaining she had a meeting with Mr. Egerton.

Inside his office Mr. Egerton was having his lunch break with an old friend. The two men cracked on about some event they’d both attended the previous weekend, “it was an absolute snooze fest. The guest list must have been mixed up with an elderly home’s check in sheet.” His friend, Richard, continued to joke. They reached a moment of quiet and that’s when his phone rang, he’d forgotten about the meeting with a potential new client.

Richard could see the expressions on his friend’s face changing as he hung up his office phone. An intrigued look on his face formed as his friend began to clean the lunch off of his desk, “you’re in a hurry to clean aren’t ya? Is she a client or a tango dancer?” He looked at Richard with an upset face, “oh come on Taron I’m only joking. With a sigh he finished cleaning up the small mess and fixed his tie, “this girl is a potential client with connections to the royals if you could believe it.” Now this was interesting, “really? A model who’s friends with the royals, is she the daughter of a lord?” Taron lit a cigarette before answering his friend.

He picked up the phone and got his secretary on the line, “tell her I’m ready please Holly,” as quickly as he spoke he hung up. Richard was still waiting for an answer, “soo...lord?” Taking a drag and a puff Taron answered, “actually. She’s  American if you could believe it.” He had to see who this girl was, “mind if I stay and meet her?” A knock came from his door, “you might have no choice but to. Come in,” and there she was. In a pink mini dress and a smile that could make any man weak at the knees, Richard had already fallen for this girl and he didn’t even know her.

[pidayforpi]

122,640 Days

How many days were there in 336 years?

A quick tap on the calculator, and our hero found out.

122,640 days. Neglecting leap years.

122,640 days. Would anything still remain after 122,640 days?

Daffy Duck stood inside his space ship, looking at the planet he called “home”. Were the stars too bright, or was his heart feeling sour?

Planet Earth in front of him seemed a bit cloudy through the wide windows. The reinforced glass was sparkly clean. Eager Young Space Cadet was always so diligent.

But what was cloudy was something the young pig would never imagine being cloudy.

Duck Dodgers, the national - no, universal - hero, always wore a boastful smile or a disappointed frown.

But the black-feathered duck in front of the panel of buttons was wearing an unreadable expression.

———————————————————————————————

“The breeze gently passes through the air, blowing towards the heart that should have been broken.

Enveloping those crossed, held hands in the everyday dusk, slowly disappearing.”

Somewhere on the blue-green planet, Daffy Duck could see a two-storey house. In that house, he could see a grey rabbit sitting on the sofa, caressing a brown “dog” on his lap. A brown mouse wearing a sombrero pushed opened the front door much taller than him, tired from a day’s work. The rabbit would greet him, and vice versa, before the mouse went inside his mouse hole.

Daffy knew there was a fourth occupant in the house: A black duck fast asleep in a messy bedroom. After all, the tenant always went to sleep strictly at 10:00 pm, only to wake up at 10:00 am the next day. The tenant was a heavy sleeper. No matter how noisy his housemates downstairs were, he would never wake up. No matter how noisy he snored, and how hard his housemates slapped him to wake him just to tell him to shut up, he would never wake up. 10:00 pm, and he’s a dead man for the next 12 hours. Even on New Year’s Eve, he would not give an exception. In fact, he would even sleep earlier at 8:30 pm, because he strongly believed that New Year was “a holiday invented by the media”, whatever that meant.

But if he was now given the chance to relive any New Year’s Eve, Daffy believed the black duck would be willing to stay up all night.

“Strange, isn’t it? Our smile never looked the same.

But now, it seems like I am looking at my own reflection.”

Daffy knew the duck was a moocher. He never worked to pay his rents, or anything for the house. Even the “dog” would win prize money from dog shows, and the mouse would use his hard-earned money to repay the house-owner: The rabbit. Not to mention the duck being a big spender, an irresponsible customer, often buying useless items at high prices. Heck, he even once used the rabbit’s money to buy and decorate his parade float, and a dozen of lobsters to fill the swimming pool for a barbecue. He even once stole the rabbit’s inventions, bought the house with the money earned, only to have the house destroyed when his (version of the rabbit’s) invention malfunctioned. Yet, the rabbit never kicked him out. Never sold the parade float, never got rid of all the lobsters. Instead, he built a time machine to save the house. Not only because it was his house in the first place, but it was also the abode of his best friend: The duck.

But if he was now given the chance to live in that house again, Daffy believed the black duck would take any job to repay the rabbit for his generosity.

“I won’t be sad. Because it’s nothing.

Hidden under those nonchalant greetings is my “thank you”.”

Daffy knew the duck was a terrible friend. He never kept his promises. He just took his friends for granted. Whenever he wanted something, he would ask his friends to pay for him. He wouldn’t even pay for a soda on the Grand Canyon himself. He stole the rabbit’s gloves when he needed to fix his parade float. He took his polite, innocent pig friend’s wallet to buy a ship, lying to his empathetic swine buddy that he needed a kidney transplant. The duck even forced him to be his butler to impress his girlfriend on a date, in the pig’s house no less! Not to mention the verbal and physical abuse the duck had inflicted on him during the dinner. He messed up his rooster friend’s film project for fun, his only excuse being that he wasn’t a professional actor. He was a terrible host at his own diner party, and a pathetic MC for a mystery game. Yet, they all attended his birthday party. Friendship and love were the only reasons they needed to forgive their duck-billed looney friend, not to mention him being fun to be with. The duck’s stupid grin and funny lisp were all they need to feel the power of friendship. Love really did defy common sense.

But if he was now given the chance to be at that birthday party again, Daffy believed the black duck would burst into tears of joy right then and there. Words couldn’t describe how grateful the duck was to his friends.

“Farewell. Bye bye. Please do take care.

Because this is a request I proposed first, please firmly catch it.”

He missed those days lounging around Pizzarriba with the rabbit and the pig, engaging in small talks when the mouse delivered two fresh, hot pizzas to their table with a wide smile.

He missed those days filling himself up with helium at the fun fair, just to win the title of “Mr Weiner” in front of his friends.

He missed those days playing bowling with the pig, a Martian and a puma, and helping them make overly long nicknames to insert into the leaderboard.

He missed those days at the Copy Place, where he made his first impression to his girlfriend as a weirdo ordering business cards stating himself as a wizard.

He missed those days being an outlaw chained to his rabbit friend, disguising themselves as yellow versions of themselves and somehow getting away with it.

He missed those days streaking (yes, streaking) with his pig friend in a remote village in Mexico, only to be put behind bars by the local sheriff.

He missed those days disguising as a university professor, and actually changing his name to “Professor”.

He missed those days sharing his house with his rude red-haired neighbour, and trying to scare him away with the rabbit when his misbehaviour were just too much.

He missed those days destroying an antique store owned by a pair of gophers in his fight with the rooster (and the fight between the rabbit and the red-haired neighbour). The shame when he cried for his mother in front of his friends!

He missed those days teaching his witch neighbour’s son how to defend himself against bullies. Even now, he didn’t think he had the power to push the red monster a mere centimetre away.

He missed those days ruining a whole dog show, nearly getting his rabbit friend arrested and his “dog” killed.

He missed those days training with the mouse, only to have the pig carry him throughout the marathon. The pig really was the local hero, as the papers said.

Yes, Daffy Duck really did miss those days. Those days, 122,640 days ago.

“Not long ago, we never talked about the future.

Although I am getting gentler, as wishes that cannot be granted accumulate.”

When he awoke from his 3.5 century slumber, just a glance around, and Daffy knew those days weren’t coming back.

He would rather be frozen forever, oblivious to the cruel reality.

In 122,640 days, everything changed.

No one remained, at least not as themselves.

Bugs Bunny, Speedy Gonzales, Tina Russo, Foghorn Leghorn, Pete Puma and Gossamer were nowhere to be found.

Porky Pig, “Poochie” the Tasmanian Devil, Marvin, Yosemite Sam, Mac and Tosh were there, technically. But they weren’t who they had been 122,640 days ago.

Especially good old Porky, the second best friend Daffy never admitted that he had. Without Bugs, Porky was the only one Daffy could count on.

But when the “Eager Young Space Cadet” looked at him with a confused, ignorant smile, Daffy knew that was not Porky. Not anymore.

The smile was the same, but not the owner of the smile.

Daffy was still surprised how he didn’t collapse and cry at that very moment.

“But now, for only a bit, please let me throw a little tantrum.”

And it didn’t help that Marvin, his high-school exchange classmate and friend, pointed his gun at him when they first met. Daffy really hoped Marvin had pulled the trigger at that time.

Poochie transformed into a real killing machine, Mac and Tosh reduced to vegetable-stealing mutants, while Yosemite Sam evolved from the local neighbourhood jerk to a galactic evil mastermind.

“I won’t be sad. It’s time for you to go.

Contradicting my cold salutations, I turned around.”

Yes. Porky would no longer jump at him for wasting his money for a ship. Marvin would no longer deliver pizzas with him via a tank. Sam would no longer be stupid enough to cut his own electricity supply, and ask for refuge at Daffy’s house.

He couldn’t tell Bugs how sorry and thankful he was for being his bestie. Couldn’t tell Speedy how delicious his frozen pizzas and 62 hot dogs were. Couldn’t tell Tina how good the name “Zachary” was. Couldn’t tell Gossamer how beautiful his voice was.

“Farewell. Bye bye. Please do take care.

If you write me a postcard or two every year, I will surely catch it tightly.”

Those meaningless, joyful, carefree days were never coming back.

———————————————————————————————

“Someday, we are going to meet again.

(It’s alright if you keep it. Whether it is the CD, or the harmonica...)”

If the buttons weren’t waterproof, the space ship would have crashed already.

Tears flowed out of Daffy’s eyes, dripping onto the metallic panel. He fell onto the cold, lifeless ground, wiping away tear after tear. The planet in front of him was no longer visible, leaving only a smear of blue and green.

“I won’t be sad. Please don’t be sad as well.

Don’t let me see that devastated expression, and cheer up.”

He told himself to keep quiet, to hold himself together. He was now Duck Dodgers, of the 24.5th century! Lest Space Cadet noticed his dear captain crying uncontrollably. But Daffy didn’t care. Right now, he was Daffy Duck, not some fictional hero in the future. Right now, he was back in the 21st century. He could cry all he wanted. He could be the pathetic loser he used to be.

No need for fame.

No need for power.

No need for disintegrating pistols or ultimatum dispatchers.

All he wanted were those 122,640 days back. Those scenes reflected on the photo frame on the control panel.

“Farewell. Bye bye. Please do take care.

I hope that when we congratulate each other, we can meet again.”

The photo frame he received on his birthday, made from pictures of himself. Many have dismissed it as a spoof of narcissism. But little did they know that photo frame meant the world to Daffy.

“I won’t be sad. Because it’s nothing.

Hidden under those nonchalant greetings is my “thank you”.”

Daffy took the old photo frame, and embraced it tightly. He couldn’t look at the pictures clearly anyway. But he could see his friends planning his birthday party at Pizzarriba, making his birthday presents, and decorating both the house and the restaurant...

“Farewell. Bye bye. Please do take care.

Because this is a request I proposed first, please firmly catch it.”

A pair of trembling arms hugged Daffy from behind. The creator of the photo frame. Eager Young Space Cadet must be so confused seeing his captain crying his eyes out with his self-portrait so late at night. He didn’t even know who made the photo frame, let alone what was making his brave captain so, so sad.

“Farewell. Bye bye. Please do take care.

If you write me a postcard or two every year, I will surely catch it tightly.”

Daffy didn’t have to look to see Porky’s puzzled expression. And yes, that was Porky. Not some random “Space Cadet”. That was his second best friend, the one who made him that old, dusty, rusty photo frame. He might not remember it, but Daffy would never forget.

“Farewell. Bye bye. Please do take care.

Because this is a request I proposed first, please firmly catch it.”

———————————————————————————————

Somewhere in the reflection of his overflowing tears, Daffy could see a pizza parlour in a busy city. The bell jingled when he opened the front door, people’s laughter filled his ears. Mouthwatering aroma of pizzas filled his nostrils as soon as he stepped into the restaurant. He didn’t request for a table - He was always the late one.

He sat down besides a grey rabbit and a pink pig at their usual seats, right before a brown mouse with a sombrero dashed towards them with a pencil, a notebook and a bright, friendly smile. Daffy didn’t need the menu. He always ordered the same dish. Every year. Every day.

“Two cheese pepperoni pizzas. The usual.”

(16-4-2020 ~ 20-4-2020)

——————————————————————————————

-(I originally wanted to post this story along with another Ducktales long story, but since it’s a long story, I still haven’t finished it, so...)

-(This is also the first fan-fic I have finished in my life.)

-This story is the result of my new found interest in The Looney Tunes Show and Duck Dodgers in April 2020. The background is a possible AU (?) in which (1) Duck Dodgers is Daffy Duck (is this canon?), and (2) is the Daffy Duck from the Looney Tunes Show, making The Looney Tunes Show a prequel and Duck Dodgers a sequel.

-The number of year “336” is the difference between year 2350 and 2014. Since the Duck Dodgers show doesn’t mention which year it is set specifically in, or how many years is Duck Dodgers frozen for, I am improvising here. Year 2350 is exactly 24.5th Century, while year 2014 is the end of The Looney Tunes Show (2011-2014). I picked 2014 (instead of 2011) because I presume the events in the show happen between 2011-2014, such that after the end of the show, Daffy Duck is frozen until year 2350.

-The song lyrics (in Italic and Bold) are from “Sayonara Byebye” (さよならbyebye) performed by Mawatari Matsuko (馬渡松子). It is best known (and is actually composed) for the anime version of Yu ☆ Yu ☆ Hakusho (���☆遊☆白書) by the (in)famous Togashi Yoshihiro (冨樫義博) as the second ending theme. The translations are by me. The song is about parting ways, and is actually an inspiration for this story, as well as one of my personal favourite anime theme songs.

(It is a bit off to be in an action anime, especially when it’s played during an intense battle tournament arc (you know which one I mean if you watched the anime before), but the song is great nonetheless. In fact, the song fits the ending of the series. I would say it may be planned?)

-Most (if not all) of the flashback scenes (or references) in the story appear in various episodes of The Looney Tunes Show. The photo frame is the one given to Daffy by Porky as a birthday present in the episode “Muh-Muh-Muh-Murder” (S01E25), for instance.

-By chance, I wrote this story across Daffy’s birthday (screen debut), which is on April 17.

-And I also wrote this during my public exam preparation period. Yes I am pathetic.

-Also the Japanese dub is good in both DD and TLTS. (・∀・)

Duck Dodgers, The Looney Tunes Show and any character involved belong to Warner Bros.

“さよならbyebye” is written by リーシャウロン, composed and performed by 馬渡松子.

“幽☆遊☆白書” is created by the wonderful 冨樫義博-sensei.

[naomixhill]

Naomi’s Story

My childhood was idyllic and surrounded in opulence in the wealthiest municipality of Rhode Island on the western side of Narragansett Bay. Goombahs ran the village, misguided judgment and organized corruption ran rampant in our leadership from the police, to the mayor, to the school board, but no one talked much about that. Instead, we focused on our waterfront properties, Italian fine dining restaurants, and seemingly perfect lives while the men took care of business. I grew up with wops and old money, and nothing in between. 

In 2005, my father’s firm went bankrupt, and with it, went half our assets tied up in privately held stock. My father’s dream was to be a New York financial services man, a true business man, and he worked on that from the cornfields of Indiana. All throughout his early years, he worked two factory jobs to pay his college tuition in hopes to be somewhere better than he was. To provide for his mother, the immigrant from Wales, and to to be a force of stability for his young, first family. He never got to New York, but I was determined that I would live out that dream. So by fifth grade, when everyone else wanted to be a vet or a doctor or a teacher, I said I wanted to be an investment banking analyst for Goldman Sachs.  We had to move from Rhode Island to the midwest after the demise of the company. My father took his second family, my mother and I, back to Indiana. He wanted something easier than what New England was, something cheaper, something nicer, something familiar. But, I was different. I was the embodiment of New England: I spoke with a thick accent, my hair was curly and big, and my values were different. The cornfield kids couldn’t quite understand me. I went from being the most popular schoolyard kid with tons of wop friends and hanging out with their daddies, the barones, the bagmen, the consigliere's, the dons, to trying to integrate myself with the children of farmers and working to middle class professionals.  And so, beginning in fifth grade, I was different. When I sat down at the lunch table, the other children took their lunches to another spot; at recess, I would go to swing, and the others would go to the slides. And I tried to be like the others, I wanted to fit in. I began speech therapy, I dressed in their clothes, I read their books and watched their television shows, but it wasn’t enough even back in those days. My entire early adolescence was hallmarked by rejection and desperately wanting to be liked, to even be marginally accepted.  I went to five different schools from 2005 - 2009, all with similar results. My parents finally sent me to a Catholic school in downtown Indianapolis off 56th street. There, I met a group of black poets that finally gave me the acceptance and friendship that I had craved for years. It was my first taste of normalcy in almost five years. And I met a boy, Robbie, who I took home. I realized that day that the world is not as colorblind as I am. My father told me that it was the saddest day of his life since his mother died. And later that year, as I continued to be involved in poetry groups and cultural clubs, I competed in a statewide poetry slam. I won the state award for my poem and my parents threw away the trophy. So, who was I supposed to be? Everything started to get confusing as every turn I made seemed to be the wrong choice and my victories were detriments.  And amid all of this, the recession was happening and worsened. Company consolidations and closures caused my family to relocate again, this time to Ohio. The village reminded me of Rhode Island a bit; on the far east side, this small, cozy village had a median household income of $187,00 with only a couple thousand residents. The high school looked like the University of Pennsylvania, and all of the homes were brick, big, and beautiful. And so I set out again to be a new version of myself: the blonde, straight haired, Coach-wearing, Abercrombie-wearing girl. Would they like me as a sophomore?  No, they didn’t. Because as much as I tried, most of the kids had known each other for years and there wasn’t space for me. So I did as I had done in the year prior: I found the black poets, the people who seemed to get me and understand my struggle. Meanwhile, I joined track, of which I was one of two whites, there, too. Within a month into the school year, I was typecast with all sorts of derogatory terms. But it didn’t matter to me, yet, and I was happy with my friend group, and met another boy, J. And there were never two people closer.  J was a state champion track star who wrote poetry and attended our school half of the day, and attended a trade school for the remainder of the day. We bonded as he helped me condition and train, and we passed a poetry journal back and forth. Though my friend Rayvon told me, “he’s trouble,” it didn’t stop me. I was used to being marginalized, and almost empathized with the fact that  J was too.  Still, I wanted to fit in and be liked. So when Rayvon set me up with her friend, I went along with it. Then, on September 4, 2009, we went to Micah’s birthday party, hosted in a multi-million dollar home in our village in the basement. J and I were both in relationships with other people, mostly on the recommendations of other people, but it didn’t stop him from kissing me. In front of everyone. And in five seconds, I lost everyone in my life.  And so, not knowing where to turn, I called J the following Monday. We met at the local coffee shop. I had an exam the following day, so he suggested that we studied at his house. I agreed. And as soon as we walked into his home, and closed the front door, it was no sooner that I was in a forced grip. I laughed at first, thinking my poetry-loving friend was teasing, but he wasn’t. Fear sunk in. He dragged me upstairs, as I was kicking and screaming, undressed me, and shoved himself into me. I was fifteen and a virgin.  The next day, people at school laughed at me. They called me the slut who slept with J. “Slut.” “Whore.” And again, I was a marginalized and lonely outcast just two months into a new school. Shouldn’t I have been used to it? People laughed at me and gossiped about me and no one knew anything. After this, things got fuzzy for me. I hardly remember the next two years much at all. I hung around a lot of shady people and did things that I wish I could take back, what little I remember, but deep down I knew I didn’t really deserve much better. A lot of people put their hands on me back then.  Going into my senior year, J made the news. He murdered his long time girlfriend right there in one of our quaint village homes in the foyer. I remember watching the live local news stream in a trance, not quite sure if what I was seeing had any base in reality but it did. And J called me that night after not speaking to me in two years. I didn’t pick up. By the end of the night, he was shot dead in the Walgreen’s parking lot and they extracted his girlfriend’s body out of the trunk of his car.  I went to the memorial in his family’s home, the same one that I had been to all of those years prior. His mother looked at me, and said to me, “It’s you. You’re the girl.” She took me upstairs to his bedroom where photos of me and our shared poetry and letters were scattered across his desk. What the fuck do you do with that, even now, after all this time has passed? The rest of the night remains a blur.  I only really remember one thing about my senior year: Briyana, the new girl from the nearby Catholic school. She took to me right away, and I took to her right back. And despite desperately needing a friend, I told her to keep her distance from me; I told her that to say I was unpopular was an understatement, and her reputation would be tarnished in being seen with me. So she did stay away. And I remember almost nothing else, just small clips of getting suspended, of shooting up PCP, of smoking weed in the girls locker room, of getting by in school with high remarks because it still wasn’t that challenging to me.  So then I went to the community college the next year. I crossed paths with Briyana again by chance. Our boyfriends were suite mates, and we became best friends. We were all a family that year. We helped each other and took care of each other. But we were also wild and reckless and young. Tyga’s Molly played on the background frequently as the bunch of them snorted lines and partied into the night. I was the only one that did ever end up graduating in that bunch. And through a series of unfortunate events, everything fell apart. And I absolutely had to go this time. And go far.  So Binghamton, NY happened. And I recreated myself again. This time, I was going to be an Air Force ROTC gal studying financial engineering and statistics. It had to work, I needed it to work. And again, I had wonderful suite mates and people that talked like how I used to, and more than anything, I was so proud of what I was accomplishing away from the disaster that the midwest had been for me. But as suddenly as I felt safe, it was over... again... Several months into the school year, my Air Force paperwork was rejected by HQ. Prior drug use, self-injury scars, you name it and I had it. And perhaps for the first time, but not the last time, I totally destructed. I threw up everyday, my veins bulged, I was dizzy and disoriented and often forgot where I was or who I was. So, hence, a medical withdrawal. But with my autoimmune symptoms and underlying medical issues, I had to see a specialist. And with a sick twist of irony, that specialist was in Columbus, Ohio.  After a multi-month stint of being on bed rest and racking up over $150,000 in medical bills, I enrolled at Ohio State. And as I was sitting in a Slavic Film class on a Tuesday, I saw Briyana going into the nearby classroom in McPhearson Hall. And just like that, we reconnected again as if no time had passed. I was still sick in those days and hardly a hundred pounds, so Briyana became a caregiver to me of sorts. And we were inseparable.  Not soon after we reconnected, we moved in together in off-campus housing in Columbus’s Chinatown. She worked for Bob Evans and I worked for an insurance company, and we both attended classes full time. This was around the time that Obama passed all sorts of labor laws, one of which required employers to give certain benefits should their employees work a minimum number of hours. Briyana’s hours were cut by over half about a month prior to our next tuition statement coming due.  I told her about a site my friend Trina used, Seeking Arrangement. “You just go on dates with lonely men and they pay you.” If only it was that easy. I thought it was that easy. She signed up and when the day came to meet this guy, she couldn’t do it. So I went in her place. And I found out quickly that it had nothing to do with going on dates at all. But by this point, sneaking into college exams for Briyana was nothing really. I was willing to commit any conceivable sin for the person who nursed me back to health and I felt gave me my entire life back and more.  As I learned, three grand has a fucking high price tag. At nineteen years old, I was in way above my head. Blackmail. Guns. Threats. So I kept doing it, and I was so used it - just trying to survive. And then, amid all of this, Briyana met Jo. And everything I did is reduced to a kind favor but it’s all now in the past. One day, I came home from visiting my parents and our entire apartment was empty, right down to the missing bed, kitchen table, and shower curtain.  What did I have left? I was still enrolled at the Fisher College of Business and a part of a financial club on campus and investment banking program. The president of the club, C, had roofied me and assaulted me in months prior but that was semantics? This is the same one that threw me down a flight of stairs on my birthday, but why not? In hindsight, it was stupid of me to ever think his red hair could be a symbol for warmth instead of the fiery hell that he was. But still, I remember thinking that we could create something beautiful out of our individual brokenness. It’s still a sore point for me even now when I reminiscence on this and recall that he had dozens of me.  He knew about what happened with Briyana, and everything that it entailed to be her loyal friend. When we would fight, he would hold it all over my head and taunt me. Our relationship ended in the Sexual Violence Office at Ohio State and his degree was nearly revoked. I was ready to fight fire with fire. No one was going to blackmail me anymore. And then again, the void.  But I was so busy at work and trying to manage a full school load, I didn’t have any more energy or time to devote to interpersonal relationships. Until I met C. And there were so many red flags: twice divorced, three children, a war veteran, and a current prop fund owner based out of Manhattan. What could go wrong except everything?  C and I were engaged in three months. We met while he was traveling the midwest for work at a local bar near the college campus. At first, he was everything I ever wanted: an Italian, handsome man with incredible work ethic, passion for life, and wit. He was so sharp and so alluring, you could see peoples’ eyes watching him in restaurants, bars, and as we walked in the Short North. And he understood my pain well and had his own. We married and I moved back home to the northeast. We lived in Philadelphia and New Jersey. It was all great until it wasn’t. I can’t speak on it yet, but it was three long years of maximum verbal and physical abuse, resulting in me returning to Ohio in an effort to escape.  And then, now divorced and as frail as I could have been, I met, D. There was entire year, 2018, where I couldn’t leave my apartment without panic attacks, wasn’t working much, and wasn’t really going to school. I just existed. I finally joined a small insurance company that spring, and the following spring, as I was re-acclimating to society and, truly, life again, D came into my life. April 25, 2019.  And D gave me a lightness in my life that I never had before. And he made me laugh sincerely. He listened to me, and understood me, and respected me for all I was in the past, all I presently was, and all I hoped to be. He gave me my twenties back and let me, for the first time, be young and carefree. He would take me to beautiful places, like Maumee Bay in Toledo and state parks, and I took him to all my favorite secret spots around the city of Columbus. We would go to coffee cafes and parade High Street and laugh on the weekends like I had never laughed. I told him things I had never told anyone. And when we would make love, it felt like he was kissing and running his fingers across my soul.  And I realized by May of 2019, I never knew true love until I knew him. And it felt like everything that happened in my life had to happen in order to be there in that moment with him. Perhaps inappropriate, perhaps premature, but I knew I wanted to marry him. I knew I wanted a life with him for as long as my days on earth.  But as my feelings continued to strengthen and I felt with full certainty that I would spend my life with D, his feelings faded. I was too much. Being with me hurt. It wasn’t easy. And so as I thought we were building an empire, he was setting the house on fire to watch it burn. And I knew by the winter that he could never really love me. As much as I wanted him to, as much as I loved him, I couldn’t overcome that to love back was a choice and it wasn’t one he could make.  So February of 2020 happened. It will remain the hardest month of my life, perhaps until now. 

This was not cathartic or meaningful in any way. 

[uncivilengineering]

What Kind of Two Years Has it Been

At the end of an experience, and therefore a blog, I usually write a reflection on the experience. The Master's programme ended six years ago and due to life and procrastination and other excuses, I'm finishing this blog only now. But this delay has its advantages, because I know how the story ends and I can tell you what happened to the characters. So maybe, for the first time, this is truly an epilogue.

The journey to this program started in 2012. I was living in Germany and working as a consultant. I always knew I wanted to work first before continuing with any kind of education, because toward the end of undergrad, I had classes with grad students and the ones who had work experience before going back to school seemed to bring more to the experience from applying what they learned from the real world. As I researched Master's programmes, I focused my search in Europe because I was still paying off the loans for my Bachelor's degree. I Googled another program when the MIND programme turned up in the results. After a process of applying, obtaining references, phone interviews and traveling to Munich from Stuttgart to take the GRE in Germany (really), even though this is Europe, the choice came down to Humboldt University in Berlin, with a scholarship from the DAAD, and the MIND programme, with a scholarship from the European Commission. (Lappeenranta University of Technology in Finland takes a close third because I had a really, really pleasant scholarship interview with a very pleasant young man and sometimes I think about how my life might be different if I went there and studied Innovation Management instead.)

I'm sure there was a long decision process and I'm sure I spent a lot of time thinking about it, like most decisions. This all took place eight years ago and I cannot remember the salient details. But I can imagine that I felt like it was time to leave Germany, even though I love (LOVE) Berlin, and the appeal of having an adventure in two countries (I didn't yet know that Asia was on the table) was great. So I gave notice at the consulting firm, said goodbye to my friends in Stuttgart, (wrapped up my last performances as a roller skating Greek muse in the local military base's production of Xanadu - that's real) and moved to Sweden.

In the two years that ensued, I met the best people, took wild risks, had the best time, made my dreams come true and had the adventure I sought. I lived.

I lived in Sweden for a year and was inspired by their example of how to treat guests in your country. I had a job interview in a sauna in the winter and learned what gender equality in society might actually look like. After an application process, I had the opportunity to spend a semester in Thailand. In Thailand I learned how to get from the university to town (Bangkok) and back again. I hosted a cultural show that lasted for eight (or more?) hours. I felt closer to my mom than I had ever understood before. C pointed out that after the midterm exams, I have sat for exams on three continents. I celebrated my birthday at a German brewery in Bangkok. I saw Angkor Wat after the semester ended. I went to all the Disneylands in the world (at the time...back then, there were only 11 parks). I didn't stay long in Austria, but I was there long enough to experience a Buschenschank and run into visa problems. I also saw Carousel and Cabaret in German, and puzzled as to why it was an hour longer than Cabaret in English, which I saw soon after on Broadway. In Glendale I lived in a conference room turned into an ad hoc intern bullpen for four and a half months writing my thesis. I saw things I had been nearby my entire life but never dreamed of seeing in reality.

Blogs are cheesy and navel-gazey but I am glad I did it. I am glad that this and the Germany Part I blogs exist. Sometimes I will look at an old post because someone asked for a travel recommendation (for example), and I will discover something that I forgot. I didn't remember that I was contacted by Swedish public radio to talk about the 2012 United States election. I forgot I had this conversation at NASA JPL about living in Germany. So what's the moral of this paragraph? If you can't blog, at least journal. You think you will remember the exciting things that happen in your day to day life but the truth is, you won't. I am proof!

What happened to everyone? Some stayed in Europe. Some went home. Some went home in Europe. Some got married. Some had babies. Some moved to Amsterdam. Many stayed in Sweden. When I left C, she wanted to stay in Italy. She has since worked her way up to an awesome job at a major company and had a baby! A has moved and is engaged to be married! I was happy to attend C's wedding in Ankara in 2015. I was happy to attend Z's wedding in Czechia last year, and to see my friends again at both.

What happened to me? I accepted an internship in Florida where I spent about five years (and made a bunch of new friends and had a bunch of good times) before moving back to the country where I left when this all started. To be honest, I never expected to be back. Not in this country. In 2017, I was fortunate to attend my class reunion in Leiden; it was also the celebration of the closing of the program. They invited all alumni back to watch the last class graudate. I met the newest generations of the program and saw a lot of old friends. It was just like old times. I came to the first afternoon of the organized program. I thought we would observe the new kids doing their work. No. We kicked off with a case exercise and divided into groups to discuss and then present our results. Our groups consisted of current students, alumni, professors and mentors. In Europe, we are all equal. It was just like old times.

The rest of the program consisted of lectures, discussions and watching the final presentations of the graduating class. Before I left for this trip, I joked that my master programme was ending because it lost funding (truth) from the European Commission because of Brexit (also true but I didn't realize it until I got there and they confirmed that Brexit was one of the factors that cut funding to the programme). There was a party the final evening. In the way that we do. I remember telling all my friends that it would be a very long time before I will see them again. I couldn't foresee an immediate excuse to get to Europe and hang out with them. The day I returned to work in Florida from the trip, I received an email about joining a project that is based in Germany. If I chose to accept this mission, I would have to move to Germany for a period of time. What.

I learned later that, basically, someone found out that I know German. (I promise that I have other skills.) When I was in high school, if you told me I was going to move to Germany, I would have said that you're crazy. I was just this nerd who went to Space Camp and really liked The West Wing and Saturday Night Live. If you told me I was going to move to Germany twice, I would have said, "Then why did I spend all this time learning Spanish?" (among other questions) I know that's true, because I did ask myself that in the first two months of intensive language school in 2010. But the truth is, Germany made things happen for me. When I talk to young people who (for some reason) ask for my advice, in addition to telling them to "follow your dreams," I also tell them the story of how moving to Germany (the first time) changed my life. (And then I tell them why so they know I'm not exaggerating.)

I couldn't refuse. I'm back in Germany. I'm working on getting better at German.

I should have seen this coming. The fall I moved to Sweden in 2012, I came back to Germany to celebrate Thanksgiving. During my Swedish spring, the squad from Germany came to visit Sweden and I put in my tea and hairspray requests (from dm, of course). After my thesis defense in 2014, my first destination was Nuremberg to see E, then on to Quakenbrück to wait with C who was finishing her defense. I attended S's wedding in Leipzig in 2015. I went to Oktoberfest in Munich in 2016. The point is, I cannot stay away from Germany. This is evident and not a surprise.

So far, I have been fortunate that this opportunity has allowed me to meet up with so many friends. A and M are in Amsterdam and have introduced me to Y and T, who are also in the MIND network. S is back in Oslo from Thailand. A is in London. S has moved from Stuttgart to Berlin. A and P and B and K and E are in New York. I still cite the meal in Haarlem (note that's Haarlem in the Netherlands, not Harlem, but I can see why you might be confused because I just mentioned New York) as the best I've ever had and J told me that the restaurant has received a Michelin star since 2014 when we were there so now it's overpriced and overrated. So funny! At Z's wedding in Czechia last year I was happy to reconnect with A, B and M. Everyone else, I'm coming for you! (And I mean that in the creepy way!)

What's going to happen next? Let's find out! Thank you for reading and joining the adventure.

Good night, have a pleasant tomorrow and see you in the future!

Lauren

[gllded]

equilibrium ; a character study on madeline’s sexuality and experience with love   ( cw: homophobia )

when she realizes, she’s thirteen.

she’s at a sleepover with eight other girls from her class and the topic veers  ( as it often did at that age )  to boys. she listens to them gawk and fawn over the most handsome ones in their year, then the ones in their school, and then over the ones they see on tv — but she doesn’t engage, she doesn’t offer her input, she doesn’t even listen to the conversation all that much until one friend, her best friend, admits to having been texting this one boy a year above them.

the other girls go nuts and press for more, the girl is all bashful and coy as she pulls up their messages on her phone. she asks, a little too aggressively she thinks in retrospect, whether the two were dating or not and nearly catches her tongue on her teeth when her friend answers with a shy yes.

for a while after that, she cant seem to shake them. they’ve announced that they’re official, and suddenly they’re together in between classes, in the commons, and in the cafeteria. she concludes that she hates him, for no reason other than she thinks her friend could do better. it’s silly, how she doesn’t even try to hide her distaste, eventually driving a wedge between them. it’s only after she gives her the ultimatum of herself or him and she chooses him that she realizes why her heart is breaking.  ‘ hyejeong-ah, why are you acting like you’re my girlfriend ? ’

when she finally tells people, she’s sixteen.

her older brother wakes her up in the middle of the night, having flown home from university just for her birthday. he sneaks her a bottle of soju from the convenience store and they stay holed up in her room until the early morning drinking and talking until it just slips out like a sigh.  ‘ oppa, i think i’m gay. ’

she doesn’t think, she knows. but she tests the water with her diction, a careful confession murmured against his shirtsleeve. she holds her breath for the few seconds it takes to sink in and begins to cry without thinking when he wraps his arms around her and tells her he knows.

she keeps it to herself for the rest of that year until chuseok comes around and instead of the intimate family dinner usually planned, an old family friend joins them. she knows the boy they bring, only two years older than her, and eyes him suspiciously all throughout the night. he makes polite conversation with her, asks about her interests, how her schooling is, what she wants to do in the future. to the layman, he’s just getting to know her, but to people in their upper echelon, it’s plain to see what their parents are trying to do.

later that night, she sits her parents down and tells them she can’t marry him. she knows they mean well in finding a match that would benefit everyone involved and knows that the wedding wouldn’t even be until after she finishes university, but she can’t fathom to live the rest of her life married to a man.

it takes a while but they come around, connecting the dots she had subconsciously laid out in front of them over the years. her mother, ever the planner, rearranges the family plan in her mind now that there’s no guarantee she’ll get a grandchild out of her. her father asks if she’s okay, if they’ve ever made her feel unwelcome, if she needs to talk to someone. with this weight off her shoulders she’s free to be herself at home, promising to keep that side of her life private for her own well being.

when she falls in love, she’s eighteen.

it’s the new girl, a transfer from busan in their last year of high school, whom they fold into their social group so easily. this one understands her on a spiritual level, it seems, like a lock clicking into place. she’s beautiful and funny and so full of light that it makes her heart hurt every time they’re together.

she nearly tells her one night, when they’re both in her bed, the other long fallen asleep. she’ll never truly hear it but at least she’d have said out loud how she felt. it hangs in the back of her throat, always on the verge of spilling out until she’s exhausted herself from thinking. instead she just watches her for a while, brushing back a lock of hair before sighing and turning over to fall into slumber herself, the confession dying on her tongue, unspoken.

when she begins dating her boyfriend, she tries not to be jealous, but still attempts to monopolize her friend’s time like it was before the couple ring branded her finger. she amps up the hand holding, the inside jokes, the physical closeness she has with her whenever he’s around. he eventually gives her dirty looks and after one particular get-together with all of their friends, she confronts her, expertly tiptoeing around the subject until she delivers the blow. ‘ min-oppa thinks you have a crush on me. isn’t that funny ? ’

the other begins to laugh nervously, but she stays silent, thinking if there was a moment to prove that they were soulmates this would be it. the laughter chokes off and they stand there, meeting each other’s eyes as they witness their friendship die without another word. she loved her, but not in the way she wanted her to.

when she’s finally free, she’s twenty.

she changes her name to madeline — hyejeong is still there, but among foreigners it’s easier. as madeline she’s able to be as open about it as she wants to be. she flirts with girls, kisses them, sleeps with them. she goes on dates, goes to parties, does whatever the fuck she wants to make up for the years she couldn’t be 100% herself.

she doesn’t need to experiment – having worked out who she was early on – but she helps others figure it out. she doesn’t mind, her relationships are only ever temporary anyway, so she takes each girl by the mouth until they’ve had their fill. she’s happy this way, living in the states has given her an anonymity her home country couldn’t, allowing the fear of being found out melt away like ice on a hot day.

but she’s on fall break back home in korea when a stray photographer catches her locking lips with a model in the intimacy of an underground parking lot and suddenly her worst anxieties come to light. internet trolls sensationalize everything and the stock prices hit an all-time low when the scandal breaks. there are protests outside their offices and death threats in her dms. even her grandparents stop talking to her for a while.

on counsel of the company’s pr team, she goes on lock down. she returns to school to live a quieter life. she stops going to public events, stops posting on her socials, only messages her closest friends and family. ‘ it’s only temporary, ’  her father reassures her, ‘ until the media latches onto something else. ’

and they do. in a few months, they forget they were ever angry about it and only remember when she’s photographed with another beautiful young woman on her arm. sooner or later the shock of seeing a public figure so open about their sexuality fades into passing conversation.

when she’s figured it out, she’s twenty-six.

most of the friends she went to school with are beginning to get married to their long-chosen fiances. one by one, she attends wedding after wedding and as lovely as each one is, the smiles and looks of longing are only made up to be like that. it’s a good union between spouses, between families, between companies.

and maybe it’s best this way, after all there are studies that show arranged marriages are reportedly happier over time than not, and she had hope that they would only grow to love one another. at least it’s how she’s resigned to it.

there’s no rush for her to be married, if there are any prospective wives out there at all. it’s a small country, with still-conservative ideologies. and if anything, her brother will carry on the family legacy, just as he carries everything. she doesn’t need to be married but when she does, she guesses it would be nice to do something for her family’s betterment for once.

until then, she’ll just keep her trail of lovers to feel less lonely. even if she can’t love them with all of her heart she’ll still care for them in her own way. and she thinks that’s as close to being in love she’ll ever truly be.

[mobscene-london]

BASIC INFORMATION:

NAME: Henry García.  AGE: 37. PLACE OF BIRTH: Porto Velho, California, United States. AFFILIATION: The Rutherford Family. OCCUPATION: Bodyguard of Lara Rutherford. FACE CLAIM: Manny Montana. AVAILABILITY: TAKEN.

BIOGRAPHY:

(Warning: Mentions of domestic abuse.)

“I don’t want you fighting anymore.”

It was ironic how her tantrums only ever led to more of that.

“Don’t want me fighting, or don’t want me fighting for her?”

Because at the end of the day, that was always what it boiled down to. Vanessa had never batted an eye when he was cracking skulls for the British family, but she sure had a problem with him appealing to the attention of Lara Rutherford. Their relationship had been bitter for years, but this was the first time he’d ever seen her jealous.

The only thing that had ever been harder than growing up in Porto Velho’s shittiest neighbourhood was his fucking marriage. Don’t get him wrong, he’d been in love with her back then; or at least as in love as any seventeen year old boy could be. They’d met during high school, when his main priority had been dealing just enough drugs to pay for the upkeep of the car he raced with his friends. Henry didn’t know what real responsibility was—few teenage boys, especially the ones who grew up in his kind of household, did.

So when he’d found out, both only eighteen years old, that he’d knocked her up, it felt like his whole damn life was unravelling.

Whilst his pops had beat the shit out of him as thanks for becoming a grandfather, his mother had been the one to push the idea of doing the ‘right thing’. Even though he’d never imagined being married at this age—he’d always wanted to go to school, play football, get the fuck out of the city for good—Henry was so scared he’d just rolled with it. In hindsight, he suspects Vanessa only agreed for the same damn reasons.

Things hadn’t been so bad in the beginning. Henry was still dealing drugs for the Rutherfords, but it wasn’t enough of an income to look after the daughter he’d fallen in love with immediately. Maybe he hadn’t exactly dreamed of this life, but he was sure as hell going to do right by her now that he was living it. If that meant taking on more dangerous jobs for the British—becoming some hired muscle they could throw at the Cávado gangs—he’d do whatever it took to earn the money. No daughter of his would ever go without.

Whilst the responsibility of being a dad matured him, it sent Vanessa wildly in the other direction. The little she earned from her job went toward drinking and socializing because she was so ‘stressed out’ over all of her new responsibilities. Like she was the one up all night when Val was crying, or there to bathe and feed the kid. Still, he kept his mouth shut for the sake of peace. Of course, that didn’t stop their fights; the ones she started, but he was blamed for by her overbearing mother.

The life he was living was hell, and Valentina was the only thing that kept him going.

On the rare occasions Vanessa was home, she was almost always drunk; an aggressive one, at that. Though she’d never laid a hand on their daughter—because he sure as fuck wouldn’t have been so forgiving if she had—that didn’t stop her from lashing out at him violently. Once, she’d clocked him so hard that she’d broken his nose. Despite his violent reputation on the streets, however, not once did he put a hand on his wife. To stop her aggressive tirade, he’d locked her in the bathroom to cool off…only for the police to be called over the domestic disturbance, and his ass to be the one that was arrested.

Henry didn’t leave. Only because he couldn’t live knowing his daughter was growing up with that.

As his home life deteriorated to the point of insanity, things were at least on the up when it came to work.

It’d been at Val’s eleventh birthday party they first met.

Lara Rutherford had just moved back to the city. For her to seek him out in the way she had was unorthodox, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. After hearing about how talented he was from a mutual acquaintance, she’d approached him about taking up competitive fighting instead of working on the streets, and whilst Henry had been hesitant at first, when she’d explained how much money could be made, there was no way he could say no. Anything was better than risking his life in shitty gang wars.

To form a genuine friendship with the woman had been unexpected. Everyone who worked under Andrew’s name had heard about her; some worshiped her like a god, whilst others painted her as a sociopath. Henry’s opinion fell solidly in the middle, and maybe that’s why, after three years of fighting on her behalf, he gladly accepted when she asked him to become her bodyguard. Spending every day in her company wasn’t half fucking bad—even if it mostly consisted of throwing insults back and forth until one got so stroppy they started ignoring the other.

Henry vowed never to leave her. There was sure as hell no fucker else who could put up with her high maintenance ass, anyway. So, when he’d blamed himself for her being shot in the street by a rival gang in California—despite the fact he was off duty at the time—it’d taken a particularly shouty lecture from her to keep him from giving up the gig. Seeing her hurt was fucking rough. Whether he’d admit it or not, she really was one of the few people he actually gave a shit about in their awful city, and he’d learned years ago that something like that was worth holding on to.

When he’d found out that she was planning on making a move to London, it came as a bitter disappointment. He was sure their time was finally up.

Even though he’d promised he’d always have her back, even she wasn’t enough to make him leave his daughter behind. Valentina might’ve been eighteen years old by this time—an adult in her own damn right—but he was still her father, and he would never bail on her. When Lara sat him down with perhaps the most sincere and understanding smile he’d ever seen her wear, she told him she would never have expected him to.

“I’m gonna fucking miss you, you know that?”

Well, he could allow her a little bit of smugness.

If he’d had it in his mind that it was time to say goodbye, that shit had flown out the window as soon as she’d walked his daughter into the room. The two were smiling as though they were in on some kind of joke he wasn’t privy to. Fucking annoying. When Valentina held out a piece of paper in his direction, it didn’t take him long to understand why they looked so excited. Henry wouldn’t be leaving his daughter behind because Lara had personally paid for her to attend university in London. To finally get away from her mother now she was old enough to make the decision for herself…

It might just have been the nicest fucking thing anyone had ever done for him. For his daughter. Period. His gratitude knew no bounds. Even if he’d wanted to reject the generosity out of pride alone, he knew that Lara wouldn’t accept it.

Holy fuck.

They were finally getting a fresh start, and he didn’t have to give up doing what he loved?

Of course, he should have said thank you.

“You could’ve fucking told me that before I said I was going to miss you,” definitely seemed more fitting, though.   

SOCIAL CONNECTIONS:

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single. Vanessa García (wife, separated, unplayable) FAMILY: Valentina García (daughter, unplayable) CONNECTIONS:

Dev Daryani: Good friend. Though they met whilst working in Cávado together under Johnathan Parsons, it wasn’t until the two of them started fighting for Lara that they really bonded. Henry might be talented with his fists, but he’s got nothing on Dev, and they both know it. He has a lot of respect for the man, and is always eager to learn what he can from him to improve his own game.

Adriana Amaro: Good friend. Lara often jokes that Adriana is the only person she’s ever met who’s sassier than him. Fucking rude, but probably correct, and it’s almost definitely why when the two of them get together, it’s entertaining for everybody involved. Though Adriana probably isn’t the type of person he would’ve associated with if it hadn’t been for her closeness to Lara, he’s glad to have gotten the chance to get to know her better over the years.

Johnathan Parsons: Former boss. Even though he served under Parsons loyally for years, he sometimes wonders whether his antagonistic choices do the family more harm than good. Of course, he was never fucking stupid enough to say it aloud, but now that he stands at Lara’s side, Henry certainly has a better angle to scrutinize him from. All he can hope is that London doesn’t spiral out of control in the same way Porto Velho did because of his decisions.

[mariequitecontrarie]

All of Me: Chapter 16

The Fic: Belle French is a pudgy librarian who’s in love from afar with “town monster” and ace reporter, Mr. Gold. Little does she know, he’s head-over-heels in love with her, too. Chapter Summary: Belle and Emma go shopping in Portland to prepare for a big night out with Gold and Neal at the Storybrooke Winter Gala. Emma runs into an old high school rival and shares a secret. Rating: T A/N: Guys, it’s been 84 years! Much love to @galactic-pirates and @magnoliatattoo for putting up with me. Artwork by the talented @wizzygold @a-monthly-rumbelling: “I’m not dressed for this.”

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | 

Stay with Me (bet. Ch 9&10) | Spiked Chocolate (bet. Ch 16&17) | Pieces of Me (Q&A)

ON AO3

“The quickest way to know a woman is to go shopping with her.” - Marcelene Cox

***Three weeks after Belle has moved out of her parents’ house and into Marco’ s.***

Belle picked up the telephone to call Gold at the newspaper, her day planner spread open on the desk.

Yes, it was old-fashioned, writing things down on a calendar and lugging the thick planner around in her bag, but she liked old-fashioned. She liked books, and fountain pens, and the rustle of paper—both crisply new and faded with age. Besides, she didn’t trust iPhone calendar apps.

She’d forgotten Daddy and Edith’s anniversary one too many times thanks to those finicky electronic calendars. Whenever it happened, she rushed to write a card at the last minute but instead of being grateful, Edith seemed to enjoy shaming her for “neglecting her family.” Personally, Belle felt anniversaries were about the couple celebrating each other…but her thoughts were veering way off course. If she ventured down the dark road of worrying over Edith, she could end up in bed with a box of snowball cakes for the rest of the day.

But falling into depression was less likely now that she no longer called her father and Edith’s house home. After three weeks of living with Marco, there was no denying how much better she felt; the freedom of coming and going as she pleased was a heady sensation. Sometimes Gold joined her at Marco’s house in the evening and the three of them played Scrabble together. Once, she had insisted Marco not cook dinner after cooking at the restaurant all day long and dragged him to Emma’s house for a family dinner where Henry chattered about school and his friends and made everyone laugh until their sides ached. 

But most often, Marco would come home from the restaurant and the two of them would eat a pasta and salad dinner, and then spend the evening in the comfortable quiet of his small, cozy living room. His overstuffed couch and chairs were such a contrast to the hard, slick leather furniture Edith filled her house with, and Belle loved sinking into the corner of Marco’s huge couch and covering up with a fluffy throw blanket.

Sometimes they would make small talk about their days but on most evenings, Marco would be bent over a notebook making notes for the next day’s specials at the restaurant, and she would pull out her laptop to research books to add to the library. Usually, either the Cooking Channel or HGTV played in the background. She’d had an older television in her bedroom at her parents’ but no cable connection. Marco, however, had a new flatscreen and Belle indulged in her love of watching House Hunters International, which combined two of her favorite pastimes: seeing home interiors and a peek at exotic destinations.

Gone were the days of being chased into her bedroom, hiding her diary, and hoarding snacks. Some days, the years spent in Edith and her dad’s frosty household seemed like a bad dream. 

At least twice a week, Belle offered to pay Marco rent. It didn’t seem right to eat his food and live in his space and offer nothing in return. But he refused every time she asked. “No,” he had said this morning over breakfast, flipping eggs with a stubborn twist of his lips. “We are family, Bella. La famiglia. And when life is hard, family is a soft place to land.” Her eyes had burned with grateful tears, but she kissed his cheek and ate her breakfast and let him fuss over her until they went their separate ways—he to the restaurant and her to the library.

Besides, she thought as she punched in Gold’s number, she didn’t have time for wallowing.

She needed to talk to Gold about the annual Storybrooke Winter Gala today. On impulse, Neal had bought four tickets and insisted he and Emma and Belle and Gold make a double date of the occasion. He’d even arranged for their next-door neighbor, Ana, to watch Henry.

Every December, the Mayor’s Office hosted the gala to benefit the city schools. This year, all proceeds would go toward school Arts programs—music, theatre, writing, and art workshops. Emma and Gold usually attended every year, Gold to cover the event for the Times and Emma to capture photographs to accompany the story. Belle had never been invited to the ball before, though, and she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Part of her didn’t want to be seen in public with so many shiny glossy people she couldn’t measure up to, but another side of her was excited to play princess for an evening.

She glanced again at the date and punched in Gold’s phone number. Today was Friday, November 16th. Thanksgiving was next week, which meant the gala was only three weeks away. There wasn’t much time to get ready. Finding a dress could be difficult and she would probably need to take it to a tailor, too. The thought of shopping for formalwear made her palms begin to sweat.

“Gold,” he answered on the first ring.

“What are you wearing?” she asked in a rush, followed by a breathless pause.

He answered with a laugh, the deep, rich sound making her spine tingle. She imagined him setting down the newspaper proof he was holding to turn in his chair to peer out the window toward the library. Since her office was in the back of the building he couldn’t actually see her, but she felt the admiring burn of his eyes all the same.

She heard a rustling sound as he set down the pages. When they talked or spent time together, he always gave her his full attention. It was certainly a refreshing change from Sean distractedly glancing at her during one of his marathon video game sessions and asking her to repeat what she’d said for the third time.

“A naughty call in the middle of the workday?” Gold drawled into the phone. “Sweetheart, men dream of these sorts of calls from their girlfriends. It’s not even my birthday.”

Belle blushed. She hadn’t stopped to think how awkward the question would sound out of context, but now that it was out, she teased him right back. “Mmmm nothing naughty to say today but just wait till it is your birthday,” she said. “Now that you mention it…”

“Yes?” He drew out the word, filling it with expectation and making her giggle.

She could almost see him leaning forward across the desk, a mischievous gleam in those caramel eyes.

“When is your birthday?”

“January 14th,” he answered promptly. “And tell Marco I prefer ice cream cake.”

“You prefer every cake,” she shot back, smiling into the phone. When it came to baked goods, Gold had an enormous sweet tooth. “But I think it can be arranged.”

“That’s excellent news. Just don’t tell Marco how many candles to put on it because the thing will be melted before we have a chance to slice it.”

Belle knew he was still self-conscious about the difference in their ages. She also knew exactly how to soothe him when he worried. “Then it’s a good thing I prefer mature men.”

“Indeed,” he said, sounding pleased.

She flipped her planner forward and marked his birthday on the calendar in bold, red ink, surrounding the date with fat, bright hearts. The birthday of the man she loved was an important day—far more worth remembering than the wedding date of her stuffy stepmother and emotionally unavailable father. At least she knew Marco wouldn’t snoop through her things and read her planner or her diary. But she was digressing again.

“Now, back to my question,” she ordered, feigning sternness. 

“You have my full attention, General French.”

She laughed and rubbed the thick holiday gala invitation between her fingers. Its embossed gold lettering and sprigs of holly in metallic ink screamed expensive. Everyone knew the Storybrooke Winter Gala was the social event of the season. From the chilled seafood towers bursting with crab claws and lobster tails to the elegant champagne cocktails, no expense would be spared.

Belle fanned her warm cheeks with the cardstock, her clammy fingers leaving damp smudges at the top of the matte stationery. “The invite says formal attire, but you’re almost always formal. Were you thinking suit or tuxedo?”

 “At the moment, I’m in my usual. I did opt for the socks with the turkeys today as a nod to next Thursday.”

Belle giggled and dragged her teeth over her lower lip. His Thanksgiving socks were adorable and he was being terribly sweet in his attempts to put her at ease. She wanted to go to the gala, but she didn’t want to look like a country bumpkin who had never been anywhere. Gold had attended fancy dinners and parties all over the world. He’d been to a State Dinner with the President, for goodness sake, while Belle had never ventured beyond the Portland city limits. “You know what I mean. It’s not like we can show up in sweatpants and be all ‘sorry, I’m not dressed for this.’” Oh, how she wished.

“Sweetheart, you can wear anything you like. You’re gorgeous no matter what you have on. That said, I’m not really the proper person to offer advice on evening gown selections. Why don’t you talk to Emma?”

She sighed. “Honey, I have talked to Emma. We’re both going shopping and we both need to know. It’s not like we can ask Neal for guidance.” Exasperated, she pushed a curl off her forehead, wondering why she had to explain this. “You know what he’s like. Emma said, ‘Neal would dust corn chips off his construction clothes, zip a hoodie sweatshirt over it, and head out the door.’ That’s a direct quote, by the way.”

Gold burst out laughing. “Sounds like my boy. I’ll make sure he’s dressed appropriately.”

“Anyway,” she continued, “there’s not much of a boutique circuit here in Storybrooke and I’m not exactly a candidate for Rent the Runway.” She sucked in the inside of her cheek as soon as those last words were out. Since they’d started dating, she’d been making a concerted effort not to say self-deprecating things about herself. At least not out loud.

Gold hadn’t seemed to notice her negativity, though.

“Which would you prefer I wear? Tux or suit?”

The image of whirling on the dance floor with Gold in a sleek black tuxedo was doing crazy things to her insides. “Tux,” she said in a breathless whisper. “Tux sounds good.”

“Tux it shall be then. And Belle?”

“Yes?” She was still picturing Gold in black tie and her stomach was doing gymnastics.

“Love,  I meant what I said: you’re gorgeous no matter what you wear. We’re going to the gala so we can dance and eat shrimp cocktail and support the Arts, not so you’ll worry over competing with silly girls and stupid women who wouldn’t know true beauty if it ran over them with a sleigh.”

“I wish you and Emma and Neal were going to be the only ones there,” she murmured, feeling silly. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t known about the gala and been given every opportunity to decide against going. The event had been on the calendar for weeks, yet the closer it came the more she fretted about fitting in. An inexplicable craving for belonging tightened her chest.

Gold hummed into the phone. “This is about more than a dress, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

She closed her eyes and took a deep, slow breath, letting the weight of his understanding settle over her like a comforting mantle. Her head lolled forward until her forehead rested upon the top of her desk. The smooth, cool grain of the wood felt good against her flushed skin and she forced out another lungful of air. Gold didn’t deserve to be at the wrong end of her short fuse. She tried to tell herself she belonged at the gala because he’d invited her, but the heart didn’t always believe the head—no matter how sensible the head was being.

“It matters to me that I at least look like I belong, even if it isn’t true,” she admitted.

Gold was quiet for a long moment. “It is true, sweetheart. For as long as I draw breath, you will always have a place to belong. If Marco, Emma, Neal, and Henry were here, I know each of them would say the same. I also know it’s going to take more than hearing the words to make you believe it. You have to know the truth deep down. I love you so much, and I only hope and pray that one day you’ll see yourself the way we see you.”

Belle pressed her lips together, muffling a sob. “Thank you for understanding,” she whispered tearfully. “I love you.”

“It’s nearly five. I’m coming over to the library.” Through the phone, she heard the distinctive click of his pocket watch as he snapped it closed. “When I get there, I’m going to kiss you till you’re breathless, then take you out for a nice, quiet dinner, just the two of us. How does that sound?”

Belle smiled and wiped her tears and her worries away with a tissue from the box on her desk. “It sounds perfect.”

“So we’re here.” Emma sucked down the dregs of her iced latte in a noisy slurp and wiped her hands on her black jeans. “Portland. Boutique Row. What do we do now?” She tossed the cup in the trash can inside the door.

Like aliens on a foreign planet, they hovered inside the doorway of Posh, the largest formal boutique in the city.

Belle eyed Emma suspiciously. “I thought you said you knew about shopping.”

“Yeah, for denim and dry fit. Where to get the best doughnuts. And the occasional piece of leather. Not evening gowns.”

“But you’ve been to this gala before?” she pressed.

“Yeah, as the photographer. No one pays attention to what you’re wearing when you’re behind the camera. I got away with black pants and a dress shirt three years running.”

Belle looked her friend up and down. Perspiration was dotting Emma’s temples. Her cheeks, ruddy from the winter air outside just moments ago, were ashen. She knew that deer-in-headlights look: Emma was on the verge of an anxiety attack.

Belle ran her teeth over her lower lip, discouragement slithering around her and squeezing the air from her lungs. “Are we in trouble?”

“It’s possible,” Emma acknowledged, then shook her head hard enough to cause her ponytail to sway. “No. No! We’re two grown women. We can handle one small town formal.”

“You make it sound like war,” Belle said wryly.

“It’s worse. Other women. Rich, polished, cold as ice.” She rolled her eyes at a chic blonde dripping in Chanel and carrying a Louis Vuitton handbag bigger than Belle’s suitcase. “Maybe we should invest in suits of armor.”

“Or maybe we should eat them for supper.”

Emma snorted, their laughter breaking the tension. It was rare for Emma to be intimidated, and Belle patted her shoulder. Misery loved company, and somehow knowing she wasn’t alone in her insecurity gave her hope for more than the hunt for an evening gown. “We can do this, as long as we do it together.”

Emma’s reached for Belle’s hand and squeezed. “Right. Together is better.”

”Exactly.”

Emma gave a long, slow whistle and they moved into the store like two people tied together in a three-legged race. “Where should we start?” Belle stared at the array of gowns and began to shuffle through the racks, heading in the direction of the plus sizes. She’d come here expecting to have maybe two choices in style but after a few minutes of browsing, to her surprise, there were many gowns in her size—short and long, tight and flowing, beaded and glittery. And though she hadn’t tried on a solitary dress, she was still convinced there wasn’t one in all of Portland designed to flatter her physique. In one fell swoop, she’d gone from zero choices to too many. So many dresses, so little time, and so much Belle.

Even the eggnog lattes and cream-stuffed doughnuts she and Emma had feasted on in the car on the way here left her feeling hollow. She was at her worst at formal events—the last one she’d been to was her high school senior prom and not one person had asked her to dance. She’d gone stag simply so she didn’t have to sit in the house with her father and Edith. With the exception of going to the refreshment table to sneak brownies, she had sat in the corner the entire time.

But she wasn’t in high school any longer. She had a handsome escort in Gold and friends to spend the evening with. The steeply priced gala tickets had already been purchased and paid for and supporting the Arts in their schools? She couldn’t think of a more excellent cause. Besides, backing out three weeks before the event was paramount to announcing you had no interest in seeing Hamilton. It simply wasn’t done.

She squinted in the direction of the lingerie. Spanx were what she needed—something to suck her in and smooth her out—injected with industrial-strength elastic.

“Black. Black is the slimming choice,” Belle decided aloud, pushing through the rack toward a plain A-line silk sheath gown.

At least if she stuck to basic black, she and Gold would match. Like two penguins. One sleek and sophisticated, the other round and plump, carrying a lot of blubber around to make it through the hard, cold, South Pole winter.

“No black! Black is the safe choice,” Emma countered, smacking Belle’s hand when she reached for the hanger on another simple, nondescript black gown with clean lines.

“And that’s bad why?”

“Because it’s drab and washes you out. Go for color. Like gold.”

“Suddenly you’re a Pantone expert?” Belle winced. “A gold dress? Isn’t that a touch…cliché?”

“Alright. We’ll keep looking.”

Belle nudged Emma in the direction of a tall, willow-thin woman with striking black and grey hair and the pointiest red stilettos she’d ever seen. “Maybe we should ask someone. I think she works here.”

Emma squinted and slid more dresses down the rack. “The one with the scarf on?”

“It’s a poncho.” She knew that much.

“Wait! Wait! Try this emerald one! Gold will go crazy when he sees you in this!” Emma whipped a dazzling, jewel-toned gown with a daring thigh-high slit off the rack. Belle stared at the stunning gown then glanced back at the saleswoman. “Five minutes ago you didn’t know anything about dresses.” “You’re right, I don’t. But I know my father-in-law and he’s going to love that dress. Well, he’d love you in a life-sized paper bag, but this dress will make even Mr. Smart Ass Newspaper Dude speechless. God, I can picture him drooling already!” She thrust the dress into Belle’s arms and gave her a playful shove. “Go try it on. And remember, the only person who has to know how beautiful you are…”

“Is me,” Belle finished. They’d had this conversation often during their walks over the past few months, and Emma had reminded her yet again on the two-hour drive here. She fingered the rich velvet skirt with trembling fingers. Now she had to walk the walk. “I’ll try it. What color are you looking for?” she asked, backing into the fitting room.

“Black.” “Emma!” she whined.

Emma yanked the fitting room curtain closed with a laugh. The dress was crushed velvet with full-length sleeves, hard to find, even in the middle of a brutal Maine winter. She slid into the gown, the silk-lined velvet feeling decadent against her skin. Even without the back completely zipped, she liked the look. Emma was right, she realized, turning this way and that in the three-way mirror.

The scoop neck hugged her shoulder blades, emphasizing her thinnest feature—her shoulders—and the color made her blue eyes sparkle and skin creamy even under the garish fluorescent fitting room lights. It was a few inches too long for her 5-foot, 1-inch frame, but the skirt length was easily remedied at a tailor. Not hating it, she took a deep breath, lifted the skirt so she wouldn’t trip, and opened the curtain. She hoped Emma was nearby because she didn’t want to make a spectacle of herself. Those stupid little fitting room closets were designed to thrust you back out onto the floor where commission-hungry salespeople could tell you how good you looked and convince you to buy.

“Em,” she called out, “could you zip—” She swallowed the rest of her words. Emma was face-to-face with a dark-haired woman, and looking even more nervous than she had when they walked into the boutique. “Emma? Emma Nolan?” The stranger wore a smart navy pantsuit and a light blue silk blouse, and her blood-red lips spread in a wide smile. Everything about her, from her perfectly coifed hair to her buffed, nude pumps, screamed suave and important.

“Yeah, who’s asking?” “It’s me, Regina Mills. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten. We graduated together from Storybrooke High! I sat next to you in Mr. Walsh’s English class.” “Oh, hey.” Emma kicked the carpet with her boot, looking anything but thrilled to meet an old high school friend. “Good to see you. You remember Belle French, I’m sure. She graduated the year after us.” Regina frowned at Belle, making a small scar on her upper lip stand out. “Sorry, doesn’t ring a...bell.” “It’s fine. We didn’t really travel in the same social circles anyway,” Belle said.  Regina pouted, as if trying to decide if Belle’s remark was a put-down.

Well, she could interpret the comment however she wished. Belle didn’t care for the change that had come over Emma since Regina had appeared or the barely-veiled insult that she wasn’t worth remembering. Now that she’d had a good look at her, she remembered Regina well enough. Then again, it was hard to forget the most popular girl to ever come out of Storybrooke High School. Student body president, prom queen, and girlfriend of Daniel Colter, captain of the football team. Belle would have called her a high school cliché, except that Regina had carried her smooth, flawless reputation into adulthood. She was still the most beautiful woman Belle had ever seen close-up.  “I’m just in town for meetings today. I’m an attorney and planning to run for office next term.” Regina’s frozen smile was back in business. “I’m thinking start small with state Senate and work up from there. So, Emma, what have you been up to since graduation? I haven’t seen you since we walked across the stage.” “Um, well.” Emma shoved her hands in her pockets and looked toward the racks of dresses. “Emma is a gifted photographer,” Belle said, sliding to her friend’s side. If Emma wasn’t going to boast about her accomplishments, she sure as hell was going to do it for her. “How exciting!” Regina’s grin was wolfish, her dark eyes sparkling. “Are you exhibiting your portraits at any galleries?” “Uh…” Emma looked at the floor. “No time,” Belle put in. “Right, Em? You’re much too busy with your son, Henry and your husband, Neal.” “Oooh, a husband.” Regina’s eyes flashed again, reminding Belle of a shark circling its prey. “Is he a doctor?” “Nope.” “Hmmm.” She tapped a red nail against her jaw. “A lawyer then?” “He’s in construction,” Emma said, looking to Belle for help. “For your information, he runs his own construction company. He’s built most of Storybrooke’s new buildings in the last ten years.” Belle glared at Regina, daring her to make another cutting remark. “So he’s a working man,” she said, managing to make the term sound neither positive nor negative. “Yeah. Yeah. He’s great.” Emma’s laugh was feeble and she ducked her head.  Regina clapped her hands. “This has been fun, catching up. We should do this again sometime.” She flashed another gorgeous, winning smile, and moved in the direction of the lingerie. “Best of luck on the campaign trail,” Belle called after her. Waiting until Regina was out of earshot, Belle whirled on Emma. “Excuse me, but what the hell was that?”

“Never mind. We have shopping to do.” Emma cleared her throat and tried to slide past her, but Belle held her ground.

“The shopping can wait. Who died and crowned Regina Mills queen?”

Belle had zero patience for people who clambered for social standing and pronounced themselves better than others. Having been so often on the receiving end of other people’s sarcasm, Belle rarely talked down to people. But standing up to bullies didn’t count. Something about watching Emma cower in front of Regina caused an angry fire to blaze in her belly. Maybe she was lousy at defending herself, but she’d be damned if she’d let anyone walk all over her friend. Emma shrugged and studied the dresses. She was pretending not to care about the awkward encounter, but Belle knew better. “I don’t like small talk. ‘Hi. How are you?’ she parroted. ‘Oh, I’m fine, how are you?’ News flash: nobody’s fine.”

“Em…”

“No matter how she makes it sound, Regina and I weren’t friends in high school, we were competitors.” She rolled her eyes. “She reminisces about Mr. Walsh’s English class like that was the only time we saw each other. I guess she forgot about the four years we spent one-upping each other on the cheerleading squad, softball team, and the debate team. Always trying to be smarter, stronger, and skinnier than the other. We were out for blood.”

“Then why are you letting her get under your skin?”

Emma sighed and pulled on her ponytail. “You know Cora Mills?”

“Cora Mills, the mayor? Of course.” Belle suppressed a shudder.

Regina’s mother, Cora, had been mayor of Storybrooke for as long as Belle could remember. Cora was a cold, calculating woman, but what she lacked in lovable qualities, she made up for in efficiency. She ran Storybrooke like a machine and no one could argue with her methods, not even Gold, who was paid to search out everything. From the few times Belle had met her, she realized Cora wasn’t mean so much as devoid of emotion.  Beyond a perfunctory review of the library budget once a year, Belle was fortunate to rarely communicate with the Mayor’s Office and even when she did, it was strictly emails between Belle and Cora’s assistant. The library and its services were beneath Cora’s notice; so long as Belle didn’t ask for too much money, she stayed under her radar—which was exactly the way she liked it.

Emma wandered to a bench next to the row of fitting rooms and plopped down. “My mom always wanted to be like her, you know.”

“Really?” Belle would never have expected sweet, kind Mary Margaret Nolan to want to emulate Cora Mills.

Emma smirked. “Once, a long time ago, Mom even tried bidding against her for Mayor but she was too nice. She was laughed out of the first debate, and it’s a good thing because the town would have walked all over her. Since Mom couldn’t be like Cora, she decided the next best thing would be for me to be like Cora’s daughter, Regina. I spent every day of high school trying to beat Regina for one reason: because my mom couldn’t beat hers.”

“Wow,” Belle said. “I would never have known. Your mom is such a great teacher and your parents are like a fairytale marriage. Talk about relationship goals.”

“Exactly. The thing with my mom is she’s incredible just as she is,” she said. “Former prom queen, straight-A student, a born teacher. She’s smart and pretty and married to the perfect, charming husband. And she loves Storybrooke—but not for me.”

“But your parents live in Storybrooke.” Confused, Belle furrowed her brow. “That seems like a bit of a double-standard.”

“Yeah.” Emma shook her head. “’Why do you want to take pictures of engaged couples and local pet adoptions?’ she said, mimicking her mother’s innocent tone. “She would rather I was out on the front lines of some war documenting the dying.” “Like Gold used to?” Belle nodded in sympathy and claimed the empty side of the bench. She knew all too well the feeling of being expected to be someone you couldn’t be and dashing parental hopes in the process. “She feels like you shouldn’t be satisfied with a simple life.” “Bingo! And she resents the hell out of Gold for telling me what it’s really like out there. I think that’s why I’m closer to him now than I am my own parents. He understands weakness and failure in a way I don’t think they can. I’m not some conceited little bitch who’s hiding in the bathroom to throw up everything she eats to fit in anymore, but sometimes that really sucks, you know?”

“Yeah, I do.” Belle’s heart clenched in sympathy. Sometimes she still got sucked into the vortex of her own self-pity and forgot that everyone—even gorgeous, wonderful Emma—was fighting a battle. Trying to be yourself was hard work. It was so much easier to toe the line of people’s expectations, to do and say what made others feel comfortable and safe. “So there’s Regina, first conquering the state of Maine, then the world.” Emma put her head in her hands. “And here I am...not running for a spot even on the PTO. Married with a kid and pregnant again.” “You’re pregnant?” Belle slung an arm around Emma and dragged her against her side in an awkward hug. “Oh, sweetie, that’s amazing!” “Ya think? Emma sniffled but looked hopeful for the first time since they had entered the boutique. “Really? I wasn’t expecting another baby. It just happened.”

“Henry is going to be a big brother!” Belle squealed, excited enough for both of them. “Does your mom know yet?”

“Are you kidding?” “What did Neal say?”

Emma shook her head and touched her belly. “You’re the first soul I’ve told.”

“Me?” Belle crowded closer to Emma and drew her head down on her shoulder. She smoothed Emma’s hair back from her temples, soothing her the way her mother used to when she was little while she tried to process the news. To think she was the first to know about the new addition coming to the Cassidy household. She hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t think I’ve ever been first in someone else’s confidence. At least not...well there’s Gold, of course.” She felt Emma nod against her shoulder. “I know what you mean. I’ve had friends. Acquaintances. Then when I met Neal he satisfied any need I had for friends. He’s a great husband and I love him to pieces, but it’s not like this. Like us. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Belle.”

“Me too,” she said, tears scalding her eyes. She’d known it was true—had felt the stirrings of their bond deep in her spirit ever since their first real conversation at Henry’s birthday clambake. Between family dinners, walks, and girls nights out, the invisible force between them only grown stronger. Somehow acknowledging their friendship out loud made it seem more solid. Precious. As important to her as her love for Gold, but in a different way.

“Now stand up,” Emma said, fishing into her pocket for a crumpled tissue. “I wanna see this dress!”

Belle shot to her feet and smoothed the skirt, her fingers fluttering around the waist and hips while Emma zipped up the back.

“I love it,” she said, motioning for Belle to twirl around.

“Really? You don’t think it makes me look like a medieval strumpet?”

“Hell no!” Emma whistled as Belle turned around again. “You’re stunning. All we need now are Spanx and shoes. And maybe some lingerie for the after-party?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“Maybe.” Belle’s face flamed at the thought of wearing a negligee for Gold. “What about you?”

“We’ll get to me after lunch.” She patted her still-flat tummy. “There’s a place down the street serving yummy cheese-covered waffle fries and this kid wants some now.”

Belle’s stomach growled in answer. “Lead the way.”

Their waiter was clearing the lunch plates at the café when Belle heard a knock on the window. She did a double-take as her father waved through the glass with a sheepish smile. Her turkey club sandwich, which had tasted so delicious a few minutes ago, now lodged in her stomach. What was he doing here in the city?

“I’ll grab the check, Belle. You go talk to him,” Emma urged. “If I see things are getting bad I’ll come outside and rescue you.”

Nodding, she gathered her coat and made her way outside, wondering what would bring her father looking for her in Portland of all places, when she hadn’t seen him once on the streets of Storybrooke in the three weeks since she’d moved out.

The air was frigid even in the sunshine, and she seemed to grow colder with every step she took toward her father.

“Daddy?” She wrapped her arms around herself to keep from reaching for a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s the Portland flower show.” He brushed a bit of pollen off the sleeve of his coat. “I was in the neighborhood and saw you having lunch in the window.” “Ah.” Her dad attended the vendor-focused flower exhibition every year. She should have prepared for the possibility of running into him in town, but she’d completely forgotten it was this weekend.

“We haven’t heard from you in weeks, darling. Edith was devastated when you collected your things and left us.”

Belle gave a noncommittal grunt and thrust her cold hands in her pockets. Edith was devastated? Perish the thought her own father actually missed her.

“Marco treating you well?”  he asked gruffly.

“Like family,” she retorted, her voice carrying a sharpness she hadn’t intended.

Her father’s face paled and she instantly regretted her tone. There was no call to be so mean-spirited, especially when it somehow succeeded in making her feel worse instead of better.

He sniffed. “Will we see you for Thanksgiving?“

Belle looked into the clear blue sky, distancing herself from his hopeful gaze. "Marco’s cooking a huge feast, so I’ll be eating with him and Gold and the Cassidys.“

“Christmas?“

She blew out an exasperated breath and hugged herself again. “Let’s push through one nightmare holiday at a time, okay?“

He huffed. “I didn’t realize things had gotten so bad.”

“Are we still talking about holidays, or are you referring to other bad situations?” She thought back to the horrible family dinner she’d put Gold through when she’d tossed a roll at Edith’s head and stormed out. “I can’t live like that anymore. I won’t.”

“You’ve changed, Belle. Is this…is this Gold’s influence on you, then?” He seemed to deflate before her eyes, this giant of a man shriveling down to a pathetic shell. “When did you become this way? So stubborn. So willful.” His lips shook as he spoke. “If your mother were alive, she…”

“But she’s not, Daddy,” Belle interrupted. “Mother hasn’t been with us for years. She’s not here to tell you what to do and what to say, and for that matter neither is Edith. You’re the one who changed. It’s as Erskine said, you don’t even see me. Maybe you never did.”

“Belle!” Emma jogged over to the rescue, her breath a white cloud in the cold afternoon air. “Hey, Mister French. We really gotta get going if we’re going to finish shopping and I promised Henry I’d be home in time to tuck him in.”

“Great. I’m freezing anyway.” She looped her arm through Emma’s and mustered a sad, parting smile for her father. After years of trying to gain his attention and approval, she wasn’t sure when she would see him again and at the moment, she didn’t care. “Take care of yourself, Dad.”

###

[brattywriters-anonymous]

A Rose In Harlem

OC x Erik Story

Based on Teyana Taylor's VII & KTSE.

Warnings: Sneaky Bitch in the cut! Drug use. Drunkenness. Jealous Erik! Jealous Syd! A whole bunch of jealousy! Which leads me to the title of

CHAPTER 4: ENVY.

Erik's face began to heat up with anger at the sight of Syeda and the maintenance man. He continued smoking as his eyes searched for Grant. He found him in the back of the kitchen beside the back door talking to some woman. He barged his way through the thick crowd of party goers and as he walked past the kitchen he gave Syd and her plus one a look of disdain. "Aye, Grant. Lemme get a eighth." He requested, handing Grant two twenties. He needed to calm down and the Henny was not a culprit for that mission. Grant dug around in his pocket for the weed and pulled out a pre-weighed pack and gave it to Erik. "Here man. Just give me a dub. You look like you need it right now. Wassup witchu?"He let out a full sigh before he answered, "Nothin. I'm good. Thanks. You got some more backwoods?" The mystery woman spoke up, "I do." Erik's face changed as soon as he looked up at her. She was no Syeda, but she was bad all the same. 

Brown skin that would give Coca a run for its money. She was about 5'7" with a curly top knot bun. "I'm Gina, just call me G." "Erik." They exchanged pleasantries and shook hands. Syeda is witnessing their exchange and she scoffed as she took the last sip of her straight liquor as if it was a shot. Yasin followed suit, thinking she was trying to out drink him. "Damn babe. You took that shot and didn't even blink." He laughed as he pulled her from behind, hugging her by her waist. She smiled in their direction with purpose. "Yeah. I guess I needed this." she then moved her head up to look at Yasin. He took that opportunity to kiss her forehead. Erik accepted G's pack of backwoods and clinched his jaw again after seeing Syd and Mr. Plumber's exchange. "Wanna go outside?" He motioned his head towards the back yard. "Yes, Erik. We can do that." She flashed a smile at him. She had a gap that Erik immediately took to. 'It's actually cute on her' he thought.

Syd sucked her teeth as the DJ switched the record up to "Bandz A Make Her Dance" she asked Yasin, "Hey boo, you wanna dance?" She didn't wait for his reply. She pulled his arm as he followed her into the living room.

--

Erik began choking on the blunt, "Wait, you did what?" G patted his back and chuckled at him. "I thought I could go to the top of the Empire state building and smoke a couple ls. so I did. Until security was called after I got done with the first one." He hadn't laughed so hard since his Navy days, back before he went off to college. "I had to run down 102 flights of steps with Security on my ass! I don't regret it though." She admitted, grabbing the blunt that Erik was offering. He liked the fact that she was daring. While they were rolling to match, she talked about how she took a leap of faith to pursue her modeling career moving from Houston to New York after her parents passed away in a drunk driving accident. Erik exchanged the similar experience of losing his father and mother when he was younger. They seemed to form a slight bond over their bold interests and their painful losses. They were both only children, they even complimented each other's rolling styles. "Yeah, this is hittin. You good at this. How long you been smoking?" G leaned back in awe of the query, "Shiiiiiiiiit I'm twenty-six, It is my birthday by the way." He interrupted, "Oh, well happy birthday beautiful." Her smile spread from ear to ear. "Oh, Thank you. Anyway- I'm twenty-six. I've been smoking since I was fifteen. So about eleven years." She took another drag as he lit the blunt he rolled. "So what about you?" He exhaled the smoke and did some calculating with his free hand. He'd only taken up smoking when he went back to MIT for his doctorate in Engineering. Even though a eighteen year old Navy enlisted Stevens would laugh if he saw his twenty-seven year old self toking like Wiz Khalifa, he used the flower to decompress. Especially before his dissertation. He smirked and rebutted, "Only four years." G gasped, "Really? I'm surprised. I mean, you being from Cali and all." He kept the same smirk at the way she pronounced Cali with that southern accent. He really liked that. "I wasn't a fan of weed in my younger days. I enlisted in the Navy as soon as I graduated High School. When I got out and went to college, my view became more lenient; and by the time I went to school to get my doctorate, I dove head first in the weed. That shit was stressful." Gina marveled at the small background story he gave her. "Wow. Doctorate. So you're a doctor?" he passed his blunt to her, and rejected what was left of hers. "I am. Kind of. Engineering Doctor." She busted out laughing. Her laughter instigated his as they were enjoying each other's company.

--

"Front then he coming your way, let the semi dump-dump then he coming your way. Dump when the bad man come, my yute don't ramp wit me/Coupe full of bad hoes, they all wanna come with me./You got a coupe with a sad ho cause she wanna come with me. Shabba!"

Syd wined her body to the bass line of the beat as Yasin joined her movements behind her. The party was singing along with A$AP Ferg, you could've sworn he was in attendance. They'd been dancing for four songs now, and Syd started getting tired. She stopped and rose up from her bent position. "Wooo. I'm drained." Sin nodded. "I feel you. It is hot out here. You wanna go outside?" He pointed at the same back door she saw Erik and whatshername go out of. She agreed, out of curiosity. They make strides to the back of the party. As Sin opened the door for Syd to walk out, Erik and whatsherface were walking in. Laughing as if Eddie Murphy was outside doing a comedy show and smelling louder than Coachella. Syd rolled her eyes and tried to avoid making eye contact. Erik quickly shut that down. "Syd." He always said her name so effortlessly and it immediately stopped her in her tracks as she turned around. "Erik? Hey. What's up?" He took a quick glance at Yasin and looked back at her, "Chillin. Zig finally showing me a good time and shit." He glanced back over at Yasin, who was giving him a smug look. "You?" Syd flipped her hair so she could rub the back of her neck, "I needed to get out of the house. Work is getting hectic."

Ironically, Yasin and G both cleared their throats at the same time at their counterpart's rudeness. Syd looked over at Sin apologetically, "I'm sorry. Sin, this is Erik. My neighbor's cousin. Erik, this is Yasin." Neither one of them felt the need to shake hands they just gave each other a domineering stare. Erik broke it and looked at Gina and her impatient body language, "This is Gina. We just met but she's cool." Gina reached her hand out to Syd. Syd leaned back far enough for Erik and Sin to notice, but Gina didn't. She reluctantly took her hand and shook it, "Syeda." She quickly let her hand go and walked to the end of the deck. Erik's mouth hung open at the crude behavior that Syd was displaying. 'She acting like she didn't bring fix-a-toilet to the party.' he scoffed aloud at the inner thought.

Yasin shook her hand, trying to deescalate the awkward situation, "Hey, I'm Yasin. It was getting hot in there and she needs some fresh air." Erik side eyed Syd, "Yeah. I'm sure. Well you enjoy your night Syd." Syd shooed him off. "Yeah. You too." The door closed and Yasin let out a long breath as the tension levels decreased. "Wow. Uh. You okay? You seem upset." Syd still looking ahead toward the back yard, she shook her head. "I'm not upset. I'm good." She managed a fake smile and took his hand. "Are you okay?" Yasin scratched his forehead in confusion. "I was okay until all of that happened. That was awkward as hell, ma. You two hook up or somethin'?" Syd rolled her eyes at the suggestion, "Hell no. I practically don't know him. I'm just hot and irritated that's all." "Okay babygirl. lets get you cooled down." He found a lawn chair and scooted it up to her so she could sit down. 

--

30 Minutes later

Yasin and Syd were becoming more acquainted. They exchanged stories about Ramadan failures. Syd loves food too much to not eat during the day. "Islam is about patience. Even in our shortcomings. I got up to thirteen days this year. I'll aim for thirty next year and see how far Allah takes me." "Wow. I never thought of it that way." She always beat herself up about not following her religion as diligently as her parents did, her life was too hectic to not eat during Ramadan, she was almost always working on Fridays so she couldn't go to the Mosque. She prayed about two to three times a day on average instead of five. Syd looked at the sky, hoping in that moment that she was making her parents somewhat proud. Yasin felt her mood change. The door opened, they both looked back to see Nina. She leaned against the deck and lit a blunt. "This party is gettin' a lil too lit." She said, exhaling smoke. Syd cosigned, "I feel you girl." Nina took another drag and motion the blunt to her left, at Syd. She accepted it. "I knew you smoked!" Yasin laughed at their dialogue. "I thought I smelled weed when I walked in your place." Syd took a long drag. "First of all, fuck both of you! Secondly, Yes. I smoke. Sue me!" They all laughed as Syd motioned the blunt to Sin. He reluctantly accepted. Nina calmed down, "Nah, but for real though, Syd. I got a friend that would be perfect for your shoots. She just moved here from Houston and she's looking for some modeling gigs." Syd hummed loudly, "YES! I need one more girl. That'll be perfect. Just bring her through to the shoot. Myles sent you the info right?" Syd knew the answer but she was confirming. "Yeah he did. That guy is on it. Sent it the day after the meeting." "Girl, Myles is a Godsend. I'd lose my mind if I didn't have him by my side." Yasin cleared his throat, unfamiliar with the male name being mention. "Babe, that's my assistant." he palmed his face, "My bad. I'm sorry. Damn I'm not tryna come off as the jealous type." She gave him a peck and reclined back in her chair. "It's okay."

🌹

[seriestrash]

The Foundation of Doing Good

❄ Day Seven ❄

A/N: Complete AU. In this version of reality Lucas and Zay moved to NYC after college. Zay and Riley kind of know each other but not really!! The two Texan’s are separate to the other four friends (as in strangers). Also for the purpose of this story pretend that Riley was the only one with a relationship with Ms. Rand. Nothing against Maya at all but for the purpose of this one shot Riley was the only ‘Dolly’ in Evelyn’s life! (Crazy hat lady).

Summary: Riley Matthews feels immense pressure to do good with her good fortune. Lucas Friar sees how one stranger who does good for the world needs good done for herself. 

Word Count: 7993

❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄

At the young age of twenty-one, Riley Matthews’ entire world changed. It was only a month after her birthday that she learnt she was willed a multimillion dollar fortune along with a company worth twice as much.    

It was like winning the lottery in the worst way possible, for Riley’s great fortune came in the wake of a terrible misfortune. It all happened when Riley lost a dear friend, Evelyn Rand. 

Evelyn Rand - or formally known as the crazy hat lady - was one of the richest women in New York - or rather the whole of the United States - but before Riley knew this, she believed the eccentric woman to be poor. Once Riley got to know the woman a little better, their brief pleasantries in passing at the subway station turned into meaningful and regular chats. Riley began to learn more about this woman and her life and as time went on Riley formed a strong bond with Ms. Rand. 

Evelyn watched Riley grow from an idealistic pre-teen into a respectful and kind ivy league college student. Since Riley attended Columbia University it wasn’t hard at all for her to keep in touch with Evelyn before she passed, in fact, the two regularly met up for coffee. 

One week during Riley’s sophomore year of college she sat at the quaint coffee house that had become ‘their spot’ and she waited for the woman. An hour passed and Evelyn still hadn’t shown. Riley grew increasingly worried and tried phoning the woman numerous times. After all the calls were unanswered Riley went over to Evelyn’s building and tried to get information from the front desk. The receptionist on hand was being tight-lipped but then Ms. Rand’s personal assistant spotted Riley and filled her in on the news. Riley learnt that Evelyn had collapsed after arriving at her company earlier that day and was rushed to hospital. In a panic Riley hurried over to the hospital in which the assistant said Ms. Rand was being treated at. 

After finally being allowed to see Evelyn, Riley learnt the tragic news; Ms. Rand had an inoperable brain tumour that would inevitably end her life.

Riley was surprised that she was more upset by the news than the patient herself. Ms. Rand just wiped the tear off Riley’s cheek and told her ‘little Dolly’ that this was just what the universe had planned for her. A calmness Riley is still yet to fully understand.

In the months leading up to Evelyn’s passing she underwent treatment to try prolong the little time she had left and Riley was right by her side during every session. Riley knew Ms. Rand had no family and little friends outside of work and Riley couldn’t bear the thought of someone she cared about going through this alone. She even skipped some of her classes to be with her friend. 

Even Riley’s 21st birthday wouldn’t make her miss a session. Maya had planned a big day of things for them but Riley opted to hang with Evelyn instead. Even though the older woman insisted Riley take the day to celebrate her youth she still showed up right by her bedside to read stories to Evelyn as she drifted in and out of sleep.

That was the day that Evelyn decided to leave everything to Riley. As a girl gave up her twenty first birthday to sit in a hospital whilst a sick woman slept. A month later she was gone and Riley became considerably richer. 

Now at twenty-five, Riley has spent years dedicating her life to making good things come from the fortune Evelyn left her. Riley had no idea how to run a company so she employed people to take care of the empire Evelyn began as a young woman and she used the personal funds to start a charity organisation called the ‘Do Good Foundation’ where it does just that.

❄

Today on one of the last days of school before winter break for most kids across the city, Riley prepares to read a children’s book she wrote to a kindergarten class in a lower income neighbourhood, a book she wrote where all proceeds went towards giving education to children in third world countries. 

This particular school Riley is at today is one she’s been contributing to for a year now. Financially and with hands on help. Riley first became involved in this school after talking to an acquaintance of hers, Zay. Zay’s fiancé Vanessa Kimble is the kindergarten teacher. Riley knew Zay as she had invested in his dance studio which helps struggling youth stay focused and off the streets. One of the many charitable causes Riley has stumbled across and helped keep running over the years. 

It’s the end of year party for the youngsters and numerous parents have volunteered their time to make the day special.

Riley is re-introduced to the class of bubbly youngsters by Vanessa as Miss Matthews. After Riley finishes the children's book she wrote about discovering your own uniqueness, told through the adventures of two feline friends, Vanessa gets the class to thank Riley for her time with a round of applause. 

Riley stands off to the side, her book still in hand as she watches Vanessa address the class again. The pretty and kind teacher checks her watch and announces that there isn't much time left. Riley could tell something was bothering her. Then, a man comes bursting through the door of the class with a small puppy in hand. He’s apologising for being late and the young children grow increasingly more excited about his fury companion. 

“Sorry! I got here as fast as I could, my shift ran late.” He whispers to Vanessa. She gives him a stern look but then addresses her class with a wide grin. 

“Class this is Dr. Friar, he’s a veterinarian and he’s brought a special friend for you all to meet today.” 

Riley wears a small smile as she watches the evidently puffed stranger address the class, his small dog panting with a poked out tongue. The students all lean closer with excitement. The handsome vet meets Riley’s stare for a second and they exchange small smiles before he turns his attention back to the children. 

Riley takes a quick moment to thank Vanessa for having her in today but explains that she best be off. 

The brunette makes her way to the subway station closet to the school. Instead of getting in a cart she takes a moment to sit on one of the benches on the platform. Riley knew she was due back at her apartment to get ready for this special event she has tonight but part of her didn’t feel like moving at all. Part of her never felt like moving again, for Riley had spend the better part of these four years feeling absolutely lost.

With a heavy feeling weighing her down Riley sits and watches the commuters as they busily come and go. Riley is brought back into reality when a yapping puppy approaches her. 

“Sorry.” The man holding the leash picks up the dog. “She gets really excited on walks.” 

“That’s alright.” Riley lifts her gaze up from the puppy to her owner and recognition crosses both their faces. 

“Hey, weren’t you at the school before?” The vet questions. 

“Yeah, I’m Riley.” She introduces herself with a smile. “You’re the veterinarian. Are you one of the children's parents?” 

“No!” He answers a little too quickly and it elicits a laugh from the brunette. “I mean, no. I came as a favour for Vanessa- Uh, Miss Kimble.” He corrects himself. “I’m Lucas.” 

Riley nods lightly. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Are you?... A parent that is?” Lucas asks with a nervous chuckle. 

“No.” Riley shakes her head. “Just a volunteer.” She pats the children book in her lap. 

“You read that?” Lucas asks with a smile. 

“I kinda wrote it.” Riley admits and she leans forward to pat the puppy Lucas holds.

“You did?” Lucas is cutely impressed. 

Riley grows nervous. “So you know Vanessa?” 

“Yeah, we went to high school together back in Texas.” Lucas explains.

“So you know Zay too?” Riley questions without thinking. 

“Yeah he’s my best friend, I’m going to be his best man at their wedding in a few months...” Lucas crinkles his brows. “You know Zay?”

Riley shifts nervously in her seat. “Sort of.. I’d use the term acquaintance loosely... I’ve dealt with him through work...”

“Work?” Lucas asks. “...Do you mind?” Lucas points to the space beside her on the bench. “Please.” Riley shuffles across to free up more space for him. 

Lucas takes a seat, with the puppy sitting well behaved on his lap. Riley resumes the light neck scratching and Lucas continues, “Since I haven't seen you in the catering business you must know Zay through his dance studio?”

“Catering?” Riley knits her brows.

“We’re bus boys.” Lucas admits and it makes him feel awfully lame. 

“I thought you were a veterinarian, Dr. Friar?” Riley eyes the embroidered name on his blue coat. Even though she was curious, Riley was more so trying to change the subject of how she knew Zay.  

“I am a qualified veterinarian but I’m an underpaid lab assistant.” Lucas rubs at the nape of his neck. “I have to work three jobs just to pay the rent for my cruddy apartment.”

“New York City is a killer.” Riley looks down as she says that.

“Tell me about it.” Lucas laughs. “The clinic I work at is so over priced just to keep up with the cost of the lease. I feel like we turn away more animals than we actually save.”

This makes Riley frown.

“Oh don’t worry.” Lucas tries to make her feel better, “I treat strays in secret sometimes.” Lucas motions to the puppy Riley’s been patting this whole time. 

“Really?” Riley gives him a dubious stare.

“Scouts honour.” Lucas says. “Given it’s not that well kept a secret because my boss docks my pay for it but I help where I can.”

Riley believes Lucas to be genuine so she curls her mouth into a small smile as she turns back to the pup. “She’s a stray?”

“Yes Ma’am.” Lucas nods. 

“Well what happens after you treat them?” Riley questions. 

Lucas lets out a nervous chuckle. “I help find families to adopt them...So how do you know Zay again?” he changes the subject back before it gets too depressing. 

“Oh right.” Riley chews her lip, she unsuccessfully avoided the topic. “I uh- I work for the company that helps fund Zay’s dance program.. A real lower tier job... I just toured the studio once on behalf of my boss.”

“You work for a charity?” Lucas asks.

Riley bops her head and avoids his gaze.

“That’s really cool.” Lucas grins genuinely. 

Riley just shrugs a shoulder.

“I know we just met but it seems like something is bothering you...” Lucas treads lightly. “Is everything alright?”

Riley studies Lucas’ face for a moment and eventually asks, “Have you ever seen that movie Pay it Forward?”

“The one where the boy does something good for someone then that someone does something good for someone else and so on?” Lucas raises a brow.

Riley nods. “Do you think something like that could really work?”

Lucas sucks in a breath and holds it for a second, that question felt very loaded, after a moment of thought he releases his breath, “In theory I guess, sure.” He nods.

“In theory...” Riley mumbles more to herself than to Lucas. The Texan could tell she was disappointed with his response.

“I like to believe that kindness inspires kindness.” Lucas tries again. He did genuinely believe that but sometimes it’s hard to remember that with the way the world is. 

Riley smiles to herself. “People change people.” 

“Exactly.” Lucas nods. “I’d hope that the world could change because of one good deed.” 

“But you don’t believe it?” Riley asks quietly. 

“Do you?” Lucas questions not knowing how else to answer. 

Riley turns her gaze forward again. She’s quiet for a second but then she snaps her gaze back to Lucas with a purpose, although her movement was brash her voice remains soft, with a pureness to it that Lucas couldn’t help but find endearing. “If you had all the money in the world what would you do with it?” Riley asks. 

“Why do I feel like this is a test?” Lucas lets out a nervous laugh. 

“It’s just a question.” Riley grows even more sheepish. 

“Um,” Lucas lets out a breath as he thinks. “Selfish or unselfish answer?”

“Whatever the truth is.” Riley says. 

“I think I’d take care of my family and closest friends...” Lucas begins. 

Riley nods. Her first thought was to take care of the ones she loved too and she had. 

He continues, “...Then...World Peace.” Lucas wears a cheesy smile. 

Riley rolls her eyes but she has a hint of a smile. “You can’t buy world peace.” 

“Why not?” Lucas frowns but he’s smiling too. “I have all the money in the world.” 

“Money can’t save the world.” Riley holds his gaze and all lighthearted silliness had left her. The expression she wore brought Lucas down a peg. 

“Wow.” Lucas can’t help but let out a nervous chuckle. “That’s pretty dark for a girl who wrote a story about a purple cat.” He motions to her book. 

“Sorry.” She shakes her head.

Lucas clears his throat and tries a more vulnerable answer. “I don’t need all the money in the world but I’d at least like to have enough for my own animal clinic, at least that way I could feel like I was actually helping animals rather than hurting them.” 

“That’s what you’d do?” 

Lucas nods. “I’ve thought about moving back to Texas after Zay and Vanessa get married. That way I could save up enough money for my own clinic, start helping animals, get back to the reason why I wanted to become a veterinarian in the first place.” 

“That’s a nice answer.” Riley says softly. 

“Thanks.” Lucas smiles. “What about you, if you had all the money in the world what would you do with it?” 

“If I ever figure out my answer I’ll let you know.” Riley lowers her gaze again. 

Then the puppy yaps in impatiently. 

“I have to get this little girl back to the clinic.” Lucas announces, “But if we’re going the same way maybe we could grab a coffee or hot chocolate.. I have to work tonight but I have like twenty-three spare minutes so if we hurry-” 

“I can’t.” Riley jumps in. “I have a thing I’m supposed get ready for.” 

“A.. date thing?” Lucas asks sheepishly. 

“No.” Riley is sheepish too as she shakes her head. “A work thing- I guess.” 

“Okay... Well I know it’s the holidays and all but if you have a free night- or day- maybe we could get a coffee or hot chocolate or some sort of beverage-” 

“Lucas, that’s really sweet but I can’t.” Riley gives him an apologetic smile. “I just don’t think I’m in the right headspace to date..” 

“Yeah, no, or nothing works for me too.” He laughs it off and Riley smiles. 

“Well the subway cart has passed about four times since we’ve been sitting here, maybe we should get on it.” Lucas points a thumb towards the track. 

“I think I might just sit here a little while longer.” Riley shifts in place. “Watch the people.” 

Lucas knits his brows in confusion as he stands up for the train. “Watch people?” 

“Just something I used to do with a friend.” Riley’s smile is small. “Merry Christmas, Lucas and to you little pup. Find her a good family, okay?” 

Lucas’ confused but more so intrigued expression remains as he takes a backwards step towards the subway cart. “I will... Merry Christmas to you too, Riley.” 

❄ ❄

Later that evening Riley is dressed in the prettiest thing she’s ever worn. A gown, blue in colour with decorative floral embroidery all over. A dress so incredibly detailed yet completely dainty looking at the same time.

A pic bc it’s so pretty and would look so pretty on Row/Riley

Her hair is curled and pinned to perfection and her makeup, although subtle, beautifully highlights her facial features. 

Riley’s very modest one bedroom apartment felt crowded with all the makeup and hair tools sprawled across the living space. Riley sits on the sofa all glamed up, trying to keep herself from getting overheated with stress. Even in the cold December month, Riley still managed to feel overwhelmed at a time like this. 

Maya sits to Riley’s left and Smackle to her right. Both women questioning their friend about her upcoming evening. 

“Are you sure you didn’t want a date for tonight?” Maya questions. 

“No. No date.” Riley states firmly.

“I don’t understand why you don’t want any of us there, this is such a huge deal for you, Riley.” Maya says. 

“No. I just want to get this over and done with.” Riley shakes her head. “I don’t need anyone there.” 

“Are you certain?” Smackle questions. “I’m sure Farkle would accompany you.” 

“Farkle hates fancy events even more than I do.” Riley coaxes her head. 

“Take Auggie then, the not so little man looks cute in a tux.” Maya grins. 

“No, I’m going alone okay?” Riley huffs. 

“Fine.” Maya says like a wounded puppy. “But I’m staying here and watching Christmas movies on your television and eating your food whilst you’re out.” 

“Make that the both of us.” Isadora says happily. 

Riley cracks a smiles. “I wish I was staying to do just that with you both.” 

“Sadly you can’t because you’re being wined and dined tonight.” Maya says in a posh tone. “Go on, your car should be downstairs. You don’t want to be late.” 

“My car?” Riley frowns. “Maya I was just going to t-”

“Take the subway, I know.” Maya groans. “You can’t take the subway dressed like that.” 

Riley sighs and admits defeat. She exits her apartment after a taking a deep breath. Here we go, the thinks to herself. 

Once alone with Smackle in Riley’s apartment, Maya lets out a heavy sigh. “I really miss Riley.” 

“She only left five seconds ago.” Smackle knits her brows. 

“I mean the old Riley.” Maya says. “Once she got rich, she got sad...” 

❄ ❄

Lucas arrived at his bus boy job not long after he dropped the puppy back off at the clinic he assists at. As per usual Lucas is running late so he bursts through the staff doors of the venue they’re working at that night still securing his black tie around his neck.

“Lucas you’re-”

“Completely on time.” Lucas says in a charming way as he passes his boss.

“Yeah, yeah.” She intensifies her glare but the slight smirk on her face gives her away. “Where’s Zay?”

“Uh,” Lucas looks around the big industrial kitchen for a second, “He got here before me.. He’ll be around here somewhere..” Lucas lies.

“Sure.” She eyes his suspiciously. “Both of you check in with Danny, this party will be filled with the wealthy in less than an hour.” She instructs.

“Sure thing, boss.” Lucas grins as he quickly tries to get out from under the watchful eye of his superior.

Lucas makes his way over to Danny, the man in charge of coordinating the wait staff for the event. The Texan continues to cover for Zay for twenty minutes before the dancer sneaks in the back door.

“There you are.” Lucas whispers. “I’ve been covering for you!” Instinctively Lucas reaches forward and helps straighten out Zays tie.

“I was with one of the teens in my program he’s having a rough time at home.” Zay explains. 

“Don’t do that.” Lucas folds his arms.

“Do what?” Zay questions.

“Remind me that you’re a decent person.” Lucas says.

“Awww.” Zay smiles sweetly.

Lucas rolls his eyes with a smile and gently shoves his childhood pal.

“Hey, I went to Ness’ class today-” 

“Yeah she told me you were late.” Zay laughs. 

“Something we have in common.” Lucas sports another eye roll. 

“How were the little twerps?” Zay chuckles, “Did they love the little flea ball you’re trying to get adopted?” 

“Yes and not the point- Also don't call them twerps.” Lucas shakes his head as he was getting off topic. “I met Riley today.” 

“Riley...” Zay knits his brows for a moment. “Riley Matthews?” 

“I didn’t catch her last name.” Lucas admits. “She said she worked for the company that funded your program.” 

“Yeah that’s Riley Matthews.” Zay nods. “Cute little brunette with puffy cheeks and she seems kinda sad.” 

Lucas nods too. Strangely it hurt him that Zay saw there was a sadness to Riley too. 

“Yeah I gave her a tour of the studio - not that it took long - and we went through some paperwork.” Zay explains. “She asked me about my life and I mentioned V, I think Riley spoke to her boss about the elementary school.” 

“I asked her out.” Lucas says proudly. 

“What?” Zay is surprised. 

“She totally rejected me but I asked her out.” Lucas says with the same goofily proud grin. 

Zay also adopts the proudness. “You haven't asked anyone out since Kelly dumped you over a year ago.” 

“She didn’t dump me. I broke up with her.” Lucas rolls his eyes. 

“Details.” Zay swats the air. 

“Are you two going to stand around all night?” Danny groans. 

“Sorry.” They both say in unison. 

“We’re just discussing how my boy asked out a girl today.” Zay pats Lucas on the back.

“Congratulations, you’re a big boy now.” Danny says sarcastically. “Please invite me to your wedding.” 

“Well little miss Riley Matthews turned him down so don’t be waiting on the invitation.” Zay chuckles and Lucas shoots him a glare. 

“Riley Matthews?” Danny gives the two Texans a look unsure if they were kidding or not. 

“Yeah, she’s this cute little brunette with puffy cheeks and kinda sad.” Zay uses the same description as before. 

“I know who Riley is.” Danny chuckles. 

“You do?” The Texans say again in unison. 

“You don’t?” Danny narrows his brows. 

Both Lucas and Zay sport confused expressions and Danny lets out an amused chuckle as he pushes his two less than impressive bus boys towards the doors that lead out into the ballroom. Each Texan puts their faces close to the two glass squares in the doors and look out into the Gala they’ll be waiting on later. 

“Riley Matthews.” Danny says and his chuckle increases. 

Both Zay and Lucas have their jaws hanging open. Their eyes find a big poster displaying the pretty brunette as  the guest of honour.

“You mean Riley is the millionaire philanthropist that’s being honoured tonight?” Lucas turns around with shock still written on his face. 

“Actually I think it’s more like billionaire if you count all the assets and company she owns...” Danny says. “Didn’t you two read the information email you were sent about the event?” 

“Honestly we never read those.” Lucas shrugs innocently. 

“You two are the worst employees.” Danny shakes his head as he walks off. 

“Dude, no wonder she turned you down.” Zay says. “She’s way out of your league.” 

“No kidding.” Lucas scoffs. “I was complaining about paying my rent and she's like rich and charitable.” 

“She told me she just worked for a charity.” Zay says. 

“That’s what she told me too.” Lucas frowns. 

“I guess it makes sense... I mean you wouldn't walk around telling people you're super rich would you?” Zay questions. 

“I guess not.” Lucas shakes his head. 

“Let’s read the email on her.” Zay says as he retrieves his cell from his back pocket. He takes a moment to find the unopened email from his boss and read aloud, “The 27th annual exceptional woman of the year award.. blah blah... will be held at.. blah blah...” Zay scans through it looking for the important information, “Awarded to the youngest recipient ever, Riley Matthews. A woman whom at the age of twenty-one was willed Evelyn Rands entire company and fortune and has since dedicated her time to making the world a better place... Wow she’s way way out of your league.”

“Thanks a lot buddy.” Lucas crosses his arms like a hurt little boy.

“I’m just saying.. You should see some of the things she's achieved in the last four years.” Zay says as he continues to read the list of charities Riley has either started or contributed to. 

“Great, if the rejection wasn’t bad enough now I have to go out there and be a lame bus boy at this ridiculously fancy event that’s being thrown for her!” Lucas frowns.

“Don’t worry about it, she’ll be at the important table, Danny won't assign you to them.” Zay says encouragingly. 

“Alright, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb are you ready to actually do some work?” Danny calls both their attentions and Zay quickly slips his cell back into his pocket. The two Texans join the other wait staff around Danny as he assigns sections to work. 

“The guests are arriving now so you’ll all be going out there in a minute to start serving the champagne. Now Lucas, you’ll be on table one.” Danny says through a smirk. 

“Why does that sound like the important table?” Lucas turns to Zay with a clenched jaw. 

“Because it is the important table.” Danny says clearly amused. “You’ll be taking care of the guest of honour. Lucky you.” 

Lucas lets out a groan but sadly there was nothing he could do unless he wanted to quit - which he quite literally couldn’t afford to do. 

Lucas goes out into the grand hall and he calms a little once he realises that Riley’s not there yet. Lucas begins to wait on the table. He’s pouring his fourth glass of champagne when she finally arrives. 

Riley appears in the doorway like something out of a daydream. Absolutely stunning which Lucas doesn’t find surprising since he already thought the New Yorker was beautiful from the moment her spotted her in the classroom but tonight was something else. Lucas is so taken back he over pours the glass of champagne and has to apologise to the disgruntled guest. He scurries into the kitchen for a towel and a new bottle of champagne.

After entering the gala, Riley takes a deep breath and prepares herself for the evening ahead. Almost immediately she’s approached by the events co-ordindater, the perky woman she’s been dealing with since hearing news she was being honoured with the award.

Riley’s lead to her table where’s she's sat next to a well known reality tv star that seems to be agitated. As soon as Riley sits down, the ‘New York Bliss’ star, Candy immediately starts complaining about the terrible service after having her champagne spilled all over the table.

Riley is sympathetic but says she’s sure it’s just an honest mistake. Lucas was hovering close by as Riley said that. Mostly because he saw her sit down after he came back from the kitchen and panicked about going over there.

“Oh look, there he is now just standing there.” Candy sighs heavily as she draws attention to Lucas.

The Texans eyes widen as he notices Riley spot him. Lucas nervously reproaches the table and apologises to Candy again.

“Dr. Friar?” Riley says just as surprised to see him.

“Dr?” Candy furrows her brows.

“Sorta.” Lucas chuckles nervously to the older woman and then turns to Riley with an embarrassed smile. “Told you I was a bus boy.”

“And apparently not a very good one.” Riley jokes lightly as she helps move things for Lucas whilst he dries the mess up.

“It’s alright Miss, I’ve got it.” Lucas says as he quickly pats the damp patch on the table.

“I don’t mind, Sir.” Riley emphasises the formal term and continues to assist. Lucas nods his thanks and proceeds pouring glasses for the table. Even though Riley doesn’t drink she allows him to fill her glass so she doesn’t look like the odd girl out. Riley was just as nervous as Lucas was or rather more so embarrassed that he’d discovered she was lying earlier but she was just far better at playing it cool than he is.

The event really starts to take off. Riley picks at the food presented in front of her and forces a smile to the other guests, some Riley knew through her charity work and others were strangers that still spoke to her as if they were family friends.

Riley listens as other guests discuss their own charitable endeavours, some seem genuinely passionate and others seemed to be patting theirselves on the back. All the while Lucas keeps his head down each time he has to cross paths with Riley.

Finally it comes to the part of the evening where Riley’s to be given her award. The host of the event draws everyone’s attention to a projector screen. Riley has to endure a ten minute video montage of her achievements.

At this point the wait staff were back in the kitchen but Lucas and Zay had poked their heads through the service doors to eavesdrop on the video.

They watch with mouths agape as it lists some of Riley’s good deeds. It includes everything from starting the Do Good Foundation to everything she’s done with it. Things like college scholarships, work in third world countries, her handlings with the homeless and needy families. They shine a lot of light on the work she’s done this holiday season and in the past. They talk about the families she feeds and the amount of children who will wake up with presents on Christmas morning because of her. It also shows some of the many charities Riley feeds money into like the foster care program her uncle Eric runs.

“She’s Mother fricken Teresa.” Lucas whispers feeling pretty down about himself.

Riley’s then called to stage to accept her award. She very nervously takes to the stage and looks around at the faces in the room. She even spots Lucas and Zay’s heads poked through the door and in response they yank their heads back into the kitchen.

Riley gives a well rehearsed speech to the crowd. It’s not that she was ungrateful for the award - she was anything but - it was just the sheer magnitude of this event, the fuss and more truthful Riley didn’t feel she was a deserving recipient.

After her speech, Riley only has to hang around for another ten minutes. Her obligation to be there was over and the guests were on the other side of tipsy so no one noticed Riley pick up her coat from the cloak room and hurry out of the building, no one except Lucas that is. 

Lucas finds Zay and asks why he thinks she left. To him it was strange that she’d leave an event dedicated to her so early. Zay offers up no viable answer so in a spur of the moment decision Lucas decides to follow her. 

“Where are you going?” Zay asks as he notices Lucas put on his coat.

“I gotta go see about a girl.” Lucas grins.

Zay rolls his eyes, Lucas was always quoting movies. “You’re going to get fired!” 

“Cover my table!” Lucas says quietly as he’s already halfway out the door. “You owe me!” 

“For what?” Zay scoffs. 

“I don’t, something I imagine!” Lucas laughs. 

Once outside Lucas quickly circles to the front of the building. It’s as he’s jogging that he realises how ridiculous following Riley out like this was, she was probably long gone by now. Lucas reaches the front of the building and looks  down the street in both directions. Then he spots her. She was only a few feet away from the buildings entrance, sat alone on a bench. Lucas pondered even going over there, maybe she didnt leave the event, maybe she just stepped out for some fresh air. After thinking it over in his mind for far too long, Lucas decides to approach the pretty brunette. 

Riley hears someone approaching and is surprised to look up and find the Texan. 

“You’re missing dessert.” Lucas says as he tucks his hands deep into his coat pockets for warmth. “It’s really good. Zay and I snuck one of the spares whilst on a self allocated break.” Lucas chuckles.

“I hope you’re a better veterinarian than you are bus boy.” Riley laughs. “That is if you’re even a real veterinarian.”

“That I am! Kind of.” Lucas chuckles. “But I already explained that.“

Riley nods with a small smile. Lucas takes the initiative to sit at the other end of the bench as Riley’s award was sitting beside her. 

"What about you though?” Lucas raises a brow. “Miss ‘I work for a charity. Real lower tier work’.”

“I do work for a charity.” Riley shrugs.

“You more than work for a charity.” Lucas scoffs lightly.

“Fine.” Riley huffs. “I run a charity. You happy?”

"Are you?” Lucas asks without missing a beat. 

“Excuse me?” Riley’s is surprised and her voice is quiet. 

“You have a sadness to you.” Lucas says sheepishly. “How is it that someone who is so good is so sad? Is it one of those things where you just give too much of yourself away to the world?” Lucas squints. 

“It’s the exact opposite.” Riley huffs. “I can’t do enough.” 

“What?” Lucas narrows his brows. “We were watching the same video about your achievements in there right?” 

“I can’t cure malaria.” Riley says and it feels completely out of place. 

“Now I’m lost?” Lucas laughs nervously. 

“We did this project thing in high school about charities and investment and I said if we used the money we spent on halloween candy we could work towards wiping out malaria.” Riley says. “I get money and I can’t wipe out malaria.” 

“So you can’t stop a blood disease spread by parasites.” Lucas says. “But I’m sure you help try to.” 

“It’s not just malaria though.” Riley sighs. “Malaria just made me realise that even though I had money it doens’t mean I can help people. I can donate money but I cant cure cancer or other life ending diseases.”

“Alright, you can’t cure diseases but your charity work does help further research for people who one day might find the cure.” Lucas says. 

“I have more money than anyone would ever need in their lifetime. Why? Why do I deserve that money?” Riley questions. “I come from a very comfortable upbringing. A nice warm apparent in a good area of New York City, I always had clothes on my back and food on the table and my best friend grew up in a poorer neighbourhood with a leaky roof... Why do I deserve to be given that kind of money and she doesn’t?” 

“Does your friend still live with a leaky roof?” Lucas question. “Did you help her once you could?” 

Riley is quiet and Lucas knew she had.

“Evelyn obviously saw something in you.” Lucas says. 

“What did she see?” Riley asks and she genuinely wants an answer. 

“The possibility of everything you’ve accomplished today.” Lucas says as a matter of fact. “I didn’t even know her and I hardly know you and I’m sure of this. 

Riley just remains quiet again so Lucas asks, "So was Evelyn your family or a friend?"

"No. I mean loved her like family but she was just an eccentric woman I met on the subway whilst I was in middle school."

Lucas pressed a little for Riley to tell him more and eventually she did. Riley explained how she first met Evelyn on the subway and how she wore crazy hats and how Riley grew very close to her over time. In fact, once Riley started opening up to Lucas is was like she couldn't stop. Riley told him all about Evelyn's brain tumour and how confused she's felt ever since her passing.

Lucas asks a few questions but didn’t interrupt too much, he just liked that Riley was getting all this off her chest, she clearly needed to. Riley continues to elaborate on how guilty this money made her feel. How she wished she could just give it all away but then she goes on to explain how she knows that’s irresponsible, for starters she would never want to disrespect Evelyn’s legacy by giving away her company and she also knew that giving away the money so someone else could deal with it meant that no good could come from it so it was just an impossible burden she had to bear. 

“I think the fact that you feel guilty is exactly why you’re a good person.” Lucas finally feels like it’s an okay time to interject. “You have pure intentions and you’ve put a pressure on yourself to do absolutely everything you can to change the world and this isn't necessarily a bad thing but you need to give yourself a break.” 

“Lucas, there a people dying in the world and there are families living on the streets and I’m sitting here in a ridiculously overpriced dress at a ridiculously expensive event-” Riley is too frustrated to even finish her thought. “When I was a teenager I used to think I should be rewarded for being a good person. I’ve literally been given a huge honour and I don’t want it.” 

“One good deed might not be able to change the world and that sucks,” Lucas shifts in place, “but one good deed can change someones life. You have changed so many peoples lives.” 

“But I could do more-” 

“No.” Lucas cuts in. “I never thought I’d be saying this but you have to focus on the little picture... You’re too consumed with saving the world that you don’t take the time to enjoy the things you’re doing to get there. You need to stop focusing on the people you couldn’t help this year and enjoy the smiles of the people you could.” Lucas continues, “There’s this kid in Zay’s program, Maxie, he came from an abusive home and when Zay first met him, Max was ready to call it quits on everything. Zay helped him with his dance and now Maxie’s just got a scholarship to a dance school. Zay never would have been able to do that if you didn’t help with the funding of his program.” 

“Zay did that, not me.” Riley says. 

“You worked out your own pay it forward system.” Lucas says with a smile. “You help people so they can help others.... I mean and you also just help a bunch of people first hand so you’re kind of beating the movie.” He jokes lightly.

“It’s not enough.” Riley says quietly and her gaze is fixated on people passing in the street. 

“What is enough then?” Lucas questions. “When will you consider your efforts enough? 

“Evelyn used to go to the subway to watch people.” Riley says. “She'd sit on a bench and look at the people and she’d think about what she could do for them. Evelyn used to say that other people were the key to your own happiness.” Riley says. “Right before she passed away she told me if I was ever feeling lost I should look to the people for answers. So that’s what I’m doing.” 

“You think that one of these days someone is going to pass you and all the sudden you’ll have the answer to the universe?” Lucas asks and for a moment Riley thought he might be making fun of her but once she notices the genuine expression on his face she drops the thought. 

“Maybe.” Riley shrugs and a sadness lingers.

“You know that saying, you’ve got to love yourself before anyone else can love you?” Lucas asks and Riley nods. “Well I think it’s the same with happiness.”

“Are you saying I have to be happy to make people happy?” Riley asks with a dubious look.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Lucas grins. “Happiness has to be the foundation of doing good.” 

Riley doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, she felt embarrassed so she changes the subject, which Lucas wasn’t oblivious to but he still answers all the questions she asks about his family back home and the clinic he works at here in the city. 

They talk about their plans for Christmas, Riley explains how she was leaving for Philadelphia tomorrow and she’d be having Christmas at her grandparents house. Lucas explains that he Vanessa and Zay were staying in the city, he neglects to share that the reason behind that was a matter of money though. 

Lucas hated that Riley felt this sadness and he wished more than anything that he could take some of it away for her but he knows he shouldn't push a stranger more than he already has. So after their butts get numb from sitting on the bench so long, Riley accepts Lucas’ offer to walk her home. 

As Lucas is walking Riley home a young girl carrying ice skates excitedly runs up to Riley and the girls mother quickly follows. It takes Riley a second but she recognises the face from Vanessa’s kindergarden class. It struck Riley as odd that they were out so late but Riley brushes it off as Christmas traditions for their family or something.

“Mommy, It’s Miss Matthews.” She tugs at her mothers coat. “She read at my school today.”

“I’m sorry, my daughter has a fascination with you.” The mom says. 

“I want to be just like you when I grow up.” The girl beams. 

“You want to write books?” Riley asks with a smile, naturally she assumed that’s what the girl was talking about since that was what she was there doing. 

“No. I want to be a philanthropist.” The girl says struggling to pronounce the big word. 

Riley is completely surprised by her statement. 

“I work for the hotel that the Gala tonight was held at. She heard me talking about how you were being honoured and she’s honestly been obsessed for weeks about being a philanthropist like you.” The mother explains. 

Riley is completely touched by this. So much that she has to fight the urge to cry. Shortly after they part ways with the mother and daughter. Lucas turns to Riley with a cheesy grin. “Okay for a moment lets ignore the thousands of lives you've already changed and lets focus on that one little girl. Because of you, she wants to help people.” Lucas holds Riley’s gaze. “Proof that kindness can inspire kindness.” 

Riley’s smile is small but genuine. 

“I don’t think Evelyn gave you her money because she thought you could change the world with it, I think she gave you the money because she knew you would change the world and not with the money but with your kindness.” 

“Is your third job like motivational speaking or something?” Riley lets out a nervous chuckle and even though she’s sheepish Lucas did make her feel so much better about things. Just talking about it all made her world feel a whole lot lighter. 

Lucas rolls his head forward with a laugh and then settles upright to hold Riley’s gaze again. 

Once outside of Riley’s apartment the two linger around for little longer than necessary before wishing each other a Merry Christmas and parting ways.

❄

Lucas arrives to work the following morning only after a few hours sleep. Once he unlocked the doors to the clinic Lucas notices an envelope at the foot of the door. Something that could have been slid underneath through the crack. Lucas picks it up and notices his name sprawled across the front.

Lucas rests his things down on the reception desk and opens the envelope. Inside are two things; a cheque for fifty thousand dollars and a simple note that reads ‘Get back to the reason why you wanted to become a veterinarian in the first place.’

Lucas stares at in in disbelief for a moment. Then his homeless puppy starts yapping as she knows Lucas is there. Lucas looks at the cheque again for a moment and knits his brows as he has a thought. "Huh." He says aloud.

Lucas pulls out his phone and texts Riley;

If you haven’t left for Philly yet could you swing by the clinic? It's urgent.

Riley replies almost instantly;

Is everything alright??

Lucas texts back;

Yeah everything's fine. Just please come?

Riley;

I'll be there soon.

Sure enough Riley's there within twenty minutes. The bell chimes as Riley enters the clinic. She's greeted by the receptionist Riley didn't know and she explains she's there to see Lucas but before she's even finished her sentence Lucas pokes his head through the examination door and asks Riley to come through.

Riley enters the small room to find the puppy she's come to know sitting on one of the tables inside an open festive box with a pretty red bow tied around her neck.

"She looks lovely today." Riley smiles.

"She has to look cute for her adoption day." Lucas beams.

"You found a family?" Riley asks.

"I did." Lucas nods. "You."

"What?" Riley laughs nervously.

“Come on.” Lucas says with a smile. “She needs a good family and I’m thinking you’re probably the best.”

“I can’t just adopt a puppy.” Riley laughs nervously as she pats the pup. 

“Why not?” Lucas questions. “You dedicate your life to making the lives of others brighter, you should let yourself have some of that light.” 

Riley stares at the puppy sat patiently in the open box so cute and well behaved. “Okay.” She says quietly as she lifts her out of the box and as she does some torn pieces of paper scatter about. “What’s this?” 

“That’s my way of politely rejecting your cheque.” Lucas says with a wide toothed grin.

“You tore it up?” Riley frowns. 

“I can’t accept your money.” Lucas shakes his head. “I won't.” 

"At least let me give you enough to get you back to Texas so you can save and start your own clinic?" Riley pleas.

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" Lucas asks with a slight smirk.

"I'm trying to help someone who helped me." Riley coaxes her head.

"That's not how paying it forward works." Lucas matches her head tilt.

"Please?" Riley asks.

"No." Lucas laughs.

"What about going home to Texas?" Riley questions.

"Staying in New York seems pretty good right now." Lucas holds her gaze.

Riley bites down on her smile. “I have about twenty-three minutes before I have to leave for Philly but if you weren’t busy maybe we could grab a coffee or a hot chocolate or a beverage or some kind?” Riley is amused as she uses Lucas’ bumbling proposal from the day before.

“I’m at work.” Lucas folds his arms.

“You wouldn’t have to be if you let me write you another cheque.” Riley coaxes her head again.

“Riley!” Lucas scolds with a laugh.

“Kidding!” She giggles.

“For that you can buy the drinks.” Lucas rolls his eyes with a smile. “I’ll take a self allocated break.” He chuckles. “If we hurry we might be able to swing by the pet store while we’re out, pick this little girl up some things.” Lucas pats the puppy Riley’s been clinging to.

“I suppose she’s going to need a name now.” Riley says.

“You’re right.” Lucas nods. “Any ideas?”

“Yeah.” Riley says as holds the puppy up so she can look her in the eyes. With a smiles she says, “I think I’ll call you, Dolly.” She turns to Lucas with a smile, “What do you think?” 

“I think it’s perfect.” He smiles back.

End Notes: I’m so lazy with editing long posts so I hope this is okay!! Lol... I wish I could make everyday of ficmas this long but I just don't have it in me sighhhh!!! 

@siennese sent me a prompt (last ficmas!!) which inspired this; 

I know I took it in a completely different direction but still giving credit to the lady who inspired it!! 

Until tomorrow my friends xxxx