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was that merrick vaughn i just saw over at lake henry ? you know, the fifty year old restaurateur that’s been around willow glen fifteen years. people around town say they can somehow both be nitpicky and laidback but if you were to ask them, they’d probably say they’re more like late night gatherings by candlelight surrounded by the ones you care about, scattered polaroids of your best catches cluttering your phone’s photo gallery, a raspy laugh that can be recognized from across the room, surprise to-go boxes full of freshly made food for you to ' taste test. ' the town sure has been rumbling about them lately, apparently they have been considering opening another restaurant outside of willow glen, but is indecisive about franchising in fear of making it feel industrial ... but who knows if that’s true, i guess i’ll just have to stop by redbud manor and find out !
basics.
full name: merrick keegan vaughn. nickname(s): ricky, merri, stick. age: fifty. date of birth: january 25th. zodiac: aquarius. place of birth: willow glen, texas, usa. gender: cismale. pronouns: he/him. religion: raised southern baptist, somewhat religious ... when it counts. romantic + sexual orientation: bisexual biromantic. languages: english ( mother tongue ), spanish ( basic conversational. ) occupation: owner of graze & co.
faceclaim: shawn hatosy. hair: greying auburn, messy waves. eyes: hazel, deep set & trustworthy with hints of green. distinguishing features: toothy gap, shortened beard & freckles just about everywhere. height: six foot and one inch, 185cm. build: husky mesomorph, muscular from years of heavy lifting. tattoos or piercings: left lobe from college phase, evergreen tree on upper left rib.
mother: pamela baxter, bakery owner. father: trent vaughn, real estate agent. siblings: younger sister ( wc available on main. ) children: one unborn child. spouse / partner: gianna stafford, wife.
was that noemi costanza i just saw over at birch & butter ? you know, the twenty nine year old kindergarten teacher that’s been around willow glen three years. people around town say they can somehow both be internalizing and perservering but if you were to ask them, they’d probably say they’re more like slayered necklaces and golden jewelry with monogrammed ' s ' and ' n ', scrapbooks and and journals filled with photos to remember and notes for keepsake, sunflowers blooming with each step she takes, no matter how tough the day has been, running through grassy fields with the biggest smile on your face. the town sure has been rumbling about them lately, apparently they had rumors about her being an ex-academic golden girl ended in even nastier ones being spread by the father of her child ... but who knows if that’s true, i guess i’ll just have to stop by willow park and find out !
basics.
full name: noemi costanza. nickname(s): emi, noe, nemo. age: twenty nine. date of birth: february 22nd. zodiac: pisces. place of birth: cape cod, massachusetts, usa. gender: cisfemale. pronouns: she/her. religion: raised christian, currently non-practicing. romantic + sexual orientation: bisexual biromantic. languages: english ( mother tongue ), french ( conversational ), spanish ( conversational. ) occupation: kindergarten teacher @ willow glen academy.
faceclaim: taylor russell. hair: dark brown, mid-back in curls. eyes: deep brown, doe-eyed & round. distinguishing features: heart-shaped face adored by dimples, smattering of freckles across nose and cheeks. height: five foot and five inches, 165cm. build: petite mesomorph, softened curves. tattoos or piercings: standard lobes, both upper lobes, right conch. lucky number 9 on her upper left forearm.
mother: yara harris, romance novelist. father: wade costanza, chemistry professor. siblings: none. children: sol costanza, ( 3. ) spouse / partner: august wells, boyfriend.
was that rhysand "rhys" rothschild i just saw over at canyon valley country club ? you know, the thirty five year old general practitioner that’s been around willow glen on & off for four years. people around town say they can somehow both be egocentric and tenacious, but if you were to ask them, they’d probably say they’re more like sweating over late night chess.com sessions, a phone album of photos called " receipts ", imposter syndrome enshrouded by snide remarks and bleu de chanel cologne, family photos that blur no matter how close you look at them. the town sure has been rumbling about them lately, apparently they forged their older brother's signature to take over their grandfather's practice ... but who knows if that’s true, i guess i’ll just have to stop by the juniper and find out !
basics.
full name: rhysand wilder rothschild. nickname(s): rhys, rhysie, ducky. age: thirty five. date of birth: july 23rd. zodiac: leo. place of birth: carnegie hill, new york, usa. gender: cismale. pronouns: he/him. religion: raised catholic, non-practicing. romantic + sexual orientation: bisexual biromantic. languages: english ( mother tongue ), french ( fluent ), italian ( fluent ), mandarin ( conversational ), german ( conversational. ) occupation: general practitioner.
faceclaim: callum turner. hair: reddish-brown, windswept of waves. eyes: light blue, fox-like. distinguishing features: broadened shoulders, double cowlick ( at his big age ... ) height: six foot and three inches, 190cm. build: ectomorph, sturdier upper body. tattoos or piercings: none.
› ... the mouthiest, if not the most difficult of the rothschild three. spent most of their childhood bickering with one another, their parents taking the opportunity to engage them in healthy sportsmanship; which meant settling their differences through sports like tennis, rugby, and lacrosse whenever they had a disagreement.
› ... earned the name ducky from his mother after he'd broken his ankle twice in one year from falling out of their vacation home tree, which was promptly cut down after the second accident. the cast left him with a temporary waddle-like gait, and the nickname was born.
› ... despite a successful career with a plaque to prove it from johns hopkins, the family considers rhys to be ... unfit. married off and following in his father's footsteps in the path of cardiology, thatcher was the one meant to run their grandfather's office in willow glen until it was coincidentally written that rhysand would be taking over, not his brother.
› ... a car collector that doesn't know a thing about cars. porsches, mustangs, a mini cooper or two: but he doesn't know what the hell anyone's talking about when it comes to specs. he simply likes to feel the wind in his hair and look good while doing it.
› ... he originally wanted to be a club owner. as soon as his father heard that flicker of a thought, he cut rhys off for a week to show him the reality he'd be living if he chose weekends in ibiza and not the path the rest of the family was born to follow.
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★ “ do you think i’ll regret drinking coffee right after i finish these tacos ? ” the question is almost hypothetical in nature . minho knows what the answer is and what he wants the answer to be before he even asks it but that doesn’t stop him from asking anyway . they're currently sitting at a table with too much food for two people in between them , including the best birria he can find in willow glen and a burger the size of his hand . minho's looking longingly in the general direction of birch & butter , already thinking about what his order will be when they make it out of the lot . “ i guess it doesn’t really matter right now , i'm getting one regardless . ”
he's mid-bite of his hot dog when the question finally lands, jaw slackening at the question they both clearly know the answer to. " do i think you're going to regret making the equivalent of a c4 bomb in your lower intestine ... " a shrug of his shoulders, wrapper crinkling as he reaches for a napkin to wipe his mouth with. " can we swing back to your constipation troubles, later ? i'm kinda busy right now, " a nod toward his food he's put an unfortunate pause on devouring. " eating. "
rhys will give it to texas. even with a palate accustomed to food so dainty and deconstructed, this was the closest thing to his guilty pleasure off wall street. additionally, it was easier to eat without the appearance of a gargantuan rodent willing to put up a fight for a bite of his food; his secret talent for acting like a top competitor in a hot-dog-eating contest was put on pause. " i'm surprised you're wanting coffee and not the ⸻ fuck, what was it called ? " blue eyes scan over the amalgamation of foods splayed over the table, snapping his fingers at minho when it finally pops into his head. " that thing. you know, with the radioactive lookin' pineapple in it. "
snow leaned down until she was eye level with the toddler , earning another fit of giggles the second she invaded his little bubble. " you're lucky you're adorable , " she said with a conspiratorial nod. " that stops working after fifteen , trust me. " she straightened with a grin , glancing between the frosting-covered cookie and the equally frosting-covered front of her shirt. ” well ... judging by this masterpiece , i'm thinking you've got a little jackson pollock on your hands. " she tilted her head toward the toddler. " very abstract. very expensive-looking. "
accepting the packet of wipes , snow pulled one free and made a half-hearted attempt at cleaning the stain , only succeeding in smearing it into a larger patch across the station shirt. " well , that's not coming out until laundry day. " her attention drifted back to noemi as the other woman clarified , and the corner of snow's mouth quirked upward. " ah ... seeing each other. got it. " there was just enough amusement in her voice to acknowledge what wasn't being said without making a spectacle of it. she had august for that.
" well , it's nice to meet you , noemi ... who also happens to be august's girl. " she laughed , holding up a hand before the other woman had a chance to worry herself into knots. " hey , relax. i'm not gonna bite your head off. " snow tucked the wipe into the trash nearby before extending her now mostly clean hand. " i'm snow. i work at the station too. and between you and me ... " she lowered her voice theatrically , glancing around as though checking for witnesses. " i'm the one stealing snacks out of his lunchbox. " her grin widened. " don't tell him i admitted that, but i have absolutely no self-control when someone packs homemade desserts. "
lucky is an understatement ⸻ unfortunately for noemi, she's not immune to the batting of those giant brown eyes and pouted lips, enough to make your molars ache from how sweet he looks, even if what he does turns out to be sour. " don't remind me ... he'll be four soon and i'm already dreading the day his growth spurt hits. " a milestone he'll surely grow to appreciate, his mother, not so much when she realizes he isn't small enough to cradle on her hip anymore. toddler imitates the tilt of snow's head, licking off some of the frosting from his fingers. " huh, maybe those mommy & me painting classes are paying off. "
a sympathetic wince, tongue pressing to the flat of her teeth. " baking soda and some vinegar should help ... for ⸻ for the stain. " a circle of her finger toward the smear, the urge to pick up a napkin and dab away like a bad itch. if anything, it doesn't look horrible, could be considered a design choice ... an unique one, but surely someone out there would be interested.
brows raise, smile slow to twinge at her lips before laughter joins in, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. " so, you're the culprit i've been hearing about whenever his snacks go missing ! " she scoots on her stool, tapping her lips with the tip of her fingers. " your secret is safe with me ... but, now i have to know which one of my homemade treats are your favorite. might have to bring them by the station by coincidence. "
knew it was wrong to think all of this would just go away , that she’d be able to move on from the self inflicted strain she’d put on the relationships of the people she loved most . knew it was wrong to run , to let feet carry her as far as they possibly could until there was no room to catch up , no space left to get caught in the midst of the mess she’d created . that’s the funny thing about ghosts ⸺ they always find a way to haunt you .
it’s hard for her not to see it in his eyes , the hurt , the anger , the confusion that aria had made a habit of leaving in her wake . arms are crossed against her chest , hands tucked tightly under her arms , the only way she can stop them from shaking . mouth opens to speak , to explain , to offer him any sort of apology he’d be willing to accept but words die before they even get to the tip of her tongue . only thing left to do is sit down , keep her head low , and take it . she deserved it , after all . almost made it worse to imagine herself in his shoes , sting that burns behind her eyes only worsening with each word . she doesn’t like to do this , doesn’t like to allow herself the room to feel ⸺ that’s how people get hurt .
“ i’m sorry , “ word is choked out with a crack of her voice that borders pathetic , hadn’t realized the slow roll of tears that’d begun to drip down her cheek until she has to sniffle to catch her breath . leg bounces , only thing that can seem to keep in rhythm with her quickness of the heartbeat pounding against the cage of her ribs .
what you don’t get to do is shut me out .
words snap her head up like it’s on command , knew she’d done it , couldn’t deny it even if she tried . life felt easier when people were pushed away , kept at a distance , a vice disguised as a form of protection . “ i didn’t know what else to do . . . i didn’t ⸺ “ doesn’t even bother finishing that sentence , knew it would do more harm than good . “ fuck . . . stick , i — “ hands reach up to rake through her hair , sentence struggling to string together . “ i don’t know , i panicked , i ran , it’s easier that way ⸺ when i’m not something you have to deal with , “ there’s a sadness in her eyes she’d vowed to never let someone else see . broken pieces of her floating in a sea of brown , shattered , jagged in all the worst places . “ i don’t get you like that anymore . i don’t get to depend on you anymore ⸺ you have your own family now , it wouldn’t be fair , “ head shakes , “ i don’t get to call you in the middle of the night because im scared or show up at your door because i didn’t know where else to go , “ figured that was how this would work , a line drawn in the sand , a boundary she was no longer able to cross . it’s only now that it hits her , a punch to the gut she wasn’t quite prepared to take .
no matter how old she got , she would always be that same little girl .
“ everything's moving so fast , everything's changing so much and so quickly and i just ⸺ i'm so ⸺ fuck ! ” sob barrels its way up her throat before she has the chance to catch it , palm of her hand quickly covering her mouth to muffle it . knees bring themselves to her chest , heavy breaths pulled through her nose and choked from her mouth . “ i’m scared . . . “ admits , the weight of it lighter from her chest but heavy as it hangs in the air between them . finally , she looks up at him , face burning a bright shade of red that bled from the tips of her ears into the whites of her ears , “ i'm scared , stick . ”
every word is a knife to the chest, another knick, a pained wince earned as a hand brushes over an invisible wound against his sternum. had he really been so blind ? between work, returning home with a wife and a baby; what felt like hundreds of other things happening all at once around her ⸻ had he really been so caught up in his own head that he hadn't taken a moment to involve her ? " who told you that you don't get t'depend on me no more ? " it sounds earnest. truthfully, there hasn't been much time for him to prove that he could be her shoulder to cry on.
it hurts to see her like this. abandoned, that tumultuous unraveling feeling before the thread finally snaps under all of the pressure. he's been there before, seen it happen right in front of his very eyes ⸻ handled it better back then, too. palm runs over the grey and white stubble lining his jaw, refusing to interrupt when it's clear what she needs is for someone to listen. it's only when tears stream down the reddening of her cheeks that he plants himself beside her, a near silent 'hey' whispered as hands cradle her face, thumbing away at tears.
" i remember when ellie told me she was pregnant with you, " merrick looks so focused on cleaning her up, knowing if he even allows himself to meet her gaze: he'll lose it. " so damn excited, you woulda thought it was my baby, too. you weren't even bigger than a fingertip, and we loved you so, so much already, aria. " a small smile, swallowing down the lump that stings in his throat. " might be years and some change later, but i finally have my chance at havin' that for myself ⸻ a family t'call my own. " there's so much more he could say, revel in the excitement and alarming amount of purpose he's grown to feel, but none of it feels right without his niece in the picture. " just because life is gettin' busy for everybody, it'll never mean i don't got time for you. "
her sobs are as wrenching as they've always been; can see the way she tries to hold it all back like it'd be some kind of disturbance to anyone who dared experience it. " c'mere, " he doesn't give a chance to beckon, pulling her into his chest and wrapping arms tightly around her, cheek pressed against the crown of her head. " s'okay, babygirl. i'm sorry. i'm sorry, you don't have t'be scared, i'm here. " a kiss pressed to her hair, the quiet sound of a sniff and a blink back of something that stings in his eyes. " my home is always gonna be your home. you understand me ? no matter what happens. "
jason remembered seeing merrick in photographs long before he'd ever met him. there was one on bonnie's mantle in particular , tucked among pictures and little keepsakes. it was the kind of photo you only displayed when someone mattered. he hadn't asked about it at first. it hadn't felt like his place. but once they started seeing each other , once things became real and serious and terrifying in equal measure , he'd finally asked. learning that merrick was something akin to a father figure to bonnie had immediately put him on edge. because if merrick was important to bonnie , then jason wanted him to like him. which was ridiculous. jason dorsey didn't get nervous meeting people. he'd played in front of sold-out arenas. he'd done interviews on national television. he'd jawed off to men twice his age and twice as mean without blinking. yet standing in the middle of merrick's restaurant , dressed in a compression tee , worn levi's , and a gold chain he'd awkwardly tucked beneath his collar in a failed attempt to look more respectable , he felt like a complete asshole. the sounds and smells of the restaurant surrounded him , warm and inviting , but they did nothing to settle the restless energy beneath his skin. he was still riding the high from the block party , but that excitement had curdled into guilt. he'd seen merrick there. he should've introduced himself then. he should've marched right over and shaken his hand like an adult. instead , he'd chickened out.
so now here he was. “ um. hello ... hello , sir. ” … god , sir ? jason immediately wanted to launch himself through the nearest window. he cleared his throat , suddenly feeling much smaller than a six-foot-seven professional hockey player had any right to. " i'm jd — " he stopped himself. no nicknames. no locker room bullshit. no dorse. no pretty boy. just jason. “ jason. jason dorsey. ” he extended his hand , praying it wasn't visibly sweating. " bonnie is ... she is ... " he trailed off , his brain short-circuiting entirely. what was he supposed to say ? girlfriend sounded too juvenile. we're seeing each other sounded like he was eighty. i'm hopelessly in love with your pseudo-daughter and would willingly throw myself in front of a bus for her seemed a little intense for a first meeting. “ you know , she. .. ” nothing. absolutely nothing. " so , uh ..." he glanced around the restaurant , latching onto the first safe topic his panicking brain could find. “ you've got a really nice restaurant here.” smooth, dorsey … real smooth.
he had built an idea of what jason might look like to some degree in his head, but what he didn't expect was for the boy to be so ... giant. sure, there was awareness aforementioned team of hockey players weren't exactly citizens of munchkinland like their manager ⸻ but the blonde looks like he could easily lift an arm and touch the ceiling with no problem. yet, even with the way he towers over, there's a clear shrinkage through the way he stumbles over his word like a newborn calf.
" merrick's just fine. don't need any of the formalities, i ain't the type. " a smile twinges at his brims, giving his trembling hand a firm shake, tucking both hands underneath his arms while hazel eyes quietly examine hockey player from head to toe. he knew that feeling all too well. first time he'd gone and met big names ⸻ men and women that he spent ages looking up to through a tv screen, confident that he could beat them until he was introduced in the same room. " jason dorsey. nice t'put a name to a face that ain't through a picture on my phone. " smile stretches, nodding over to the bar. " offer you somethin' to calm the nerves ? got pop or water, if you ain't a fan. "
it's rare, nowadays. boys that grow into respectable men that go around introducing themselves to people, making sure they get on the good side of the friends, family, the whole roster. make it obvious that they want more than to sleep around. it's nice to see chivalry isn't entirely dead. " that you and her are goin' steady ? i'm an honorary member of their little gossipin' society they got. " honorary, only because he makes them snacks before leaving them to it. a motion of a lock and key over his mouth, a muted chuckle as he reaches behind the bar for two glasses with an audible clink. " take a seat, son. i ain't gonna bite ya. "
oh, heart melter. jesse swooned, hand to his chest as the toddler proudly presented his magnum opus, cookie looking cartoonishly large in his small hands. "oh, a firetruck, of course — doy!" tapped the heel of his palm to his forehead, amping up his facial expressions for the sake of the child. he spared a glance at noemi as she enlightened him with the boy's current fixations before returning his attention to little man as if to confirm the allegations. "d'you wanna be a fireman when you grow up? maybe... a dinosaur?" fake gasp, shock coloring his face at the mere thought. this was just like crowd work, if the crowd did not yet possess the mental faculties to fully grasp the tangible reality. this was so much easier.
he brushed noemi's offer aside with a lazy flick of his hand. "s'fine, don't worry 'bout it." offered her a reassuring smile. he looked down at his own plate, dog-shaped cookie smeared with a tinge of firetruck green. "i can just say buster here had a nice frolic around the grass. or was messin' around with the firetruck's new paint job. here." he nudged the plate in the pair's direction. "every firetruck needs its fire dog, don't you think?" addressing the boy once again.
the three-year-old is instantly ready to yap the man's ear off, not before query earns a questionable gaze from large brown eyes that resemble his mother's, head tilting backward to look at her. an encouraging nod to his silent request for permission, quick to go right back to talking. " i wanna be like my daddy when i grow up ! " he exclaims, panting as he speaks, as if his little lungs can only handle a word at a time. " mommy says his hat's too big for me, but m'gonna grow up really big and strong so i can wear it alldatime. "
tiny hands curl around noemi's fingers with an enthusiastic wiggle, replacing firetruck siren for an ambient bark. " mommy ⸻ mommy, look ! like ginger ⸻ but little ! " she brings plate closer, boy leaning forward to have cookies side by side like they're a pair of toys from home. " and buster matches your firetruck, isn't that cool ? " a glance at jesse. " ginger's our family dog ... or, uh, sol's personal steed. " a shake of her head. " she kind of just lets him crawl on top of her. " something of recognition flickers in her eyes, giving her best try at not sounding like an over observant creep. " i feel like i've seen you before ... where've i seen you ? "
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★ he's wearing a smile that comes off as slightly bitter , strain visible in the tightness at the corners and the way it doesn't quite reach his eyes . he understands her in a way . their situations were very different but the loss of inspiration , the not knowing what to do or what comes next or what steps they need to take to figure it out — he understands more than he would like to . leon hasn't been able to figure out what's next for him since february and he had to admit , it was a terrifying feeling .
“ you probably get this all the time but maybe you need a break . i think that'd be a lot more beneficial than a celebrity gossip blog . ” he raises an eyebrow at her , a hint of amusement replacing the bitterness he felt just moments ago . leon glances around the room , eyes lingering a little longer at certain points before he's focusing back on her . “ take a break from . . . this — maybe even from willow glen . a vacation might do you some good if it's inspiration you're looking for . ”
a knowing scoff. " beneficial, at the cost of my manager sending me to go watch another game of little league where they barely have any hand to eye coordination, " she leans back in her chair with a purse of her lips. " if you're curious, they have none. i watched a kid chase after a ball for five minutes because they kept kicking it around the diamond. " yasmin refuses to have that kind of punishment, not after seeing the words good sport titling one of her now hidden articles, having had to keep it up for at least five months.
" inspiration isn't what i need, i need ... drive. willpower. " she makes a fist like it's sitting right in the palm of her hand; god, if it only it were that easy. " i don't think going on some impromptu summer vacation is going to fix anything, " a drag of her nails against her desk, flicking pen and watching it roll across tabletop. " i'd just be really hot in a bikini on a beach somewhere, and that's so much work in itself, already. "
a surprise trip to italy had been the last thing she thought of when merrick mentioned going on a little vacation. it was nice to be doing something other than mulling over thick stacks of legal proceedings and court documents— to feel the kiss of the sun on her skin. it's been a long while since their last vacation and gianna welcomed a private getaway with open arms.
attorney squints, both from the italian sun and the clear fib he tells, letting out a soft laugh. " uh huh and i'm the queen of england. " she makes herself comfortable, pulling sunglasses down to shield her eyes. " i'm sure whomever you left in charge will make sure the restaurant doesn't turn to ash while you're gone. " she lets herself relax into the pillows behind her, legs tucked beneath lithe frame while sipping cold lemonade.
" better than i did earlier. " answer is truthful, movements careful while setting the glass down. she rests her cheek in her palm while a small smile pulls at the corner of her lips. " i don't think the shrimp was agreeing with me— that's the only thing i've had today. " aside from a crispy coke on the plane, a rare craving she couldn't quite shake. gianna nods. " sorry we couldn't do it today, but we still have plenty of time. maybe we could just take it easy ... we could always explore the town and go out to dinner later ? "
" and the queen of my heart, that's for sure. " corny, but he's far too passionate in outwardly showing how much adoration he holds for her to care, even if it makes someone uncomfortable. a humorous roll of his eyes, hand raising to run through the sea breeze disheveled curl of his hair. " better be in one piece, or else i'm really gonna have t'start askin' langford about options for another restaurant. " he's half-serious, but he'll never admit the thought makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up, that shaky breath of the unknown sneaking out of him, time to time.
albeit, he's more focused on the well-being of the woman beside him, even when she claims to be feeling better. " my sweet girl, " older man pouts as he smothers her with kisses that start at her temple, trailing down to the skin of her neck and peppering a multitude of them there before he pulls back. " baby, please don't start cryin' over shrimp, now ... 'cause i'll make a list of foods that make you cry. things t'avoid. " merrick still hasn't gotten over the way she curled up in the bed, tear-stained sheets and pillow case and hours of clearing the scent of kale lingering throughout the house.
" nuh-uh-uh, " he tuts, hand reaching to squeeze over the curve of her hip. " no work for me, no apologizin' for you. could spent the entire time lookin' at you sunbathin' all pretty in the sun, if that's what you wanted t'do the whole trip. " hazel eyes take in every feature of her face, quirk of a smile on his face without even realizing because he's too busy falling deep into his pit of admiration. " how 'bout i just take care of you today ? order some room service, give you one of those back massages you like ... " he leans forward, voice dropping down to a whisper. " i ... will sit and watch as many of them episodes of love island without complainin'. " sacrifices are to be made, even if he doesn't quite understand what's going on half of the time.
dominic's head lifts the second he hears nicky, a groan escaping before he even spots her. " what can i say ? sex sells. " as if this was what that saying was designed for—a burly, sweaty guy collecting spare change. may as well have a tin can to rattle on the sidewalk. " i am not a skeez, " hand defensively placed on his chest, " this is for charity, yas. and no, i didn't volunteer. i was ... voluntold. " he shrugs, “ ... i mean, technically i volunteered. but they made it sound a lot less humiliating than this. ”
he claps as the bill drops into the jar, about to reply fervently on the burger topic but he's hit with the kiss , a loud smaaaaack !!! ringing in his ear. "... jesus. " she pulls away and he goes to wipe a hand across his cheek, stops upon noticing the color of her lips. " you couldn't have picked a more subtle color ? “ he scolds, “... but ... ” eyes skip from hers towards a fixed point over her shoulder, ” on behalf of the dallas lone stars foundation , we thank you for your generous contribution towards increasing access to youth hockey programs. ' " it's a spiel, one he's reading from a sign behind her at the exit that donors read on their way out, rather than hearing from the man they've just paid to touch. he smiles, like yasmin deserves a special honour, and looks back at her with clasped hands. " i've got ... " his eyes dart to the volunteer schedule taped beside him, " ten minutes. " dom all but sighs, " wait for me ? i'm holding you to those curly fries. "
" right. 'cause that's a word you didn't just pull straight out of your ass. " he isn't entirely wrong ⸻ sex does sell, and for someone of his reputation and stature combined, he could as well have been making a couple millions if his eyes were really on the prize. " don't say that ... you could be at a ren faire with a beer between your tits, pouring it down someone's open throat. " an innocent smile, a bat of her lashes. " anything's possible. "
eyes observe as he tries to remove the kiss mark, only further smearing it over tanned skin rather than getting rid of it. " you're so right. you know, from now on ⸻ i'll make sure to facetime you first thing in the morning to pick out my lipstick. " tongue peeks out to lick the pad of her thumb, using it to wipe against his cheek, the only redness left behind being the pinch of her fingers on his cheekbone. there's a pause to look where he's reading, eyes wrinkling into a quizzical squint at the way his attention deviates. " have you been saying that to everyone you've kissed ? dom ... that's like you're saying you had a good time after sleeping with somebody. " a sigh that sounds akin to disappointment. that was awesome. we just did that. the types of things you don't say.
she uses his shirt to wipe the rest of rouge off her fingertips, no way in hell would she be using white tank top or jeans look like she just mauled her way through a sephora tester section. " ten minutes, " brunette retorts, looking up at him through her brows. " eleven, and you're going to regret making me and my empty stomach wait for so long. " a threat that mainly entertains the idea of eating his fries, perhaps even paying for the meal. " i'd keep count of how many girls you get to make out with within such a short timeframe, but i'd like to keep my appetite. "
" ugh , again ?! " at this point , ollie's credit card is begging for mercy , too much of the last check from her residuals nearly spent in full , alarming collection of brand new blind boxes arranged in side order on the table next to her . it was just her luck that she would keep pulling duplicates ⸺ should've known better than to spent all of her money in one place . " i feel like somebody set me up , " she huffs , bottom lip stuck with a pout as she reveals yet another tree pose smiski , one more to add to the growing collection on her opposite side . " i usually don't mind duplicates but i have , like . . . six of these ⸺ do you wanna take one to put one on your desk ? i feel like kids might find it silly so long as it doesn't turn into one of those situations like that one lady that got her hello kitty funko pop stolen right off of her desk , " followed that story like it was national news , which , in her heart , it was . " do you like being a teacher ? sometimes i think about teaching art or music at a school but kids today are kind of scary . " ( @fawnvinyl )
this store had become a dangerous place; both for noemi and her wallet that should let out a hoarse cough from how quickly it'd empty of what she called her fun money. teacher is enraptured by the fluffy, pink cheeks of a nearby winnie the pooh plush, sweet face cradled in her hands begging for her to take it home. " huh ? " attention turns toward a glum-looking ollie behind her, brows wrinkling with mirth. " sure, i'll take it ⸻ " an adjustment of pooh's shirt, gently smoothing plush toy's cheeks back down once he's been put back where he belongs ( for now. ) " but, only if you let me trade you one of mine for it. " a hand raises before she can even give reason as to why she hadn't needed to offer. " think of it like one of those blind box trades ! except, you know ... free. "
a laugh trickles out of her, brows raising at the possibility she hasn't encountered as of yet. " i think the only thing my kids have stolen is my heart. that, and occasionally each other's snacks. " a pinch of her fingers, leaning over to peek at the familiar-looking smiski in her hands. " honestly ... not always, " an honest answer, thought mulling around her head with a careful tilt. " i was so sure that teaching was something my dad wanted me to do until i actually started. my volleyball scholarship would've only taken me so far, i think. " a dead career that she knew only meant something by the number of trophies lining her family's mantle, memoir of it purposely tucked away to avoid the ache it leaves behind. " how come you don't offer a class for preschoolers ? " a sudden change of subject. " you could be their bob ross for the day. meanest thing a kid that age could do is stick their tongue out at you. "
mabel reacted immediately, tiny hands curling into fists. “ hey ! ” her voice was thick with outrage , deeply offended that her cookie was now splattered with green frosting. graham was just as quick. his large hand settled against her back , rubbing slow circles between her shoulder blades in an attempt to soothe the very big emotions that lived inside such a tiny person. " mabie , it was an accident , " he reassured gently. the explanation did little to improve matters. mabel's brow remained furrowed , her cherubic face scrunched into a look of righteous toddler indignation. graham sighed softly before looking over at noemi. “ it's fine. i ... get it , i do. ” he glanced down at the streak of frosting on his shirt and huffed out a quiet laugh. “ honestly , i'd rather wear frosting than glitter and hello kitty stickers.” he paused. " trust me on that one. "
you'd think there was a toddler soap opera happening, sol startled from the strong reaction of little girl adjacent of him, another sad squeeze of frosting dribbling onto teddy bear decorated dungarees. he'd been scolded before, but it's different when it's a kid your age and not your mom who coddles you, reassuring you while cradling your cheeks. noemi, on the other hand, is struggling to hide how cute she finds the agitated pout on mabel's face is, reminiscent of her own child's antics when he either didn't get his way or couldn't figure something out. " … m'sorry. " a teary-eyed whine, bottom lip jutting out before hiding his face into his mother's chest, met with a hand pressing to the back of brown curls. " he'll be okay ⸻ don't look too worried. " a passive wave at graham, smile half-hidden in her son's hair as she presses a kiss to his head. " glitter … i think i had some stuck in my scalp for at least a month after one of my students dumped a whole mini jar in my hair, " a laugh. " i had a lot of concerned parents asking what their kids meant about their teaching being a secret fairy. "
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mavis peers over her menu, eyes shifting from side to side, like they were now engaged in some clandestine operation. she was afraid the wait staff might be out to get her, having provoked one or two, or three, of them into overstimulation with her endless, and inane, list of questions. wait, is the soup made here, or in your house? “ i don’t eat fancy like this, really, ever . . . ” confessed with a snort, a shy shrug of her shoulders. “ maybe, i’ll try the— this, um . . . ” she tries to sound the name out in her head, before letting her mouth take a crack at it, but the syllables all begin to stumble from her, and without her permission, “ . . . nick— uh, nick-o-zy salad . . . ” a sincere attempt, and finished with an unabashed smile. “ your restaurant is so cool, bee-tee-dubs. ” she lets slip a bit of snickering, and then, with a hushed voice, though no less inspired, “ . . . i’ve never met a famous chef before! ”
this wouldn't be the first time someone's had difficulty pronouncing something off the menu, the idea of having too many things with too many accents sets him apart from other restaurants that he deemed overzealous; flashy presentation valued over making the food edible. he stands over her, palm planted onto the table as he lets her sound out each syllable. " not quite like that, darlin' … niçoise. nee-swahz. give that a try. " a patient smile alongside the offer. at least she's trying, most would just prod their fingers against the name like there was a mosquito buzzing around until a server finally understood what they wanted to eat. " please, i ain't that famous, " he's terrible at acting humble, especially with his restaurant. the wall of awards, plaques and photos around the building ⸻ he wasn't fooling anyone. " i like to say 'm well-known. " a light-hearted chuckle, nodding toward the menu. " you seem like you might be a lil' lost … what you usually like t'eat ? don't be shy, now. "
status : closed for anyone, @fawnvinyl.
location : a few blocks down from birch & butter.
" oh, i don't like that. " jina has a quiet and honest reaction to the drink, one that physically manifests into a deep shutter. she should've known better than to try something new— something with oat milk in it of all things, but she was trying to branch out from her usual strawberry matcha. she turns, settling a hand on lithe hip and releases a quiet breath. " would it be dramatic of me to go back ? i don't think i have the guts to order a new drink ... clearly this isn't for me. maybe i should just get an almond croissant or something. "
" it can't be that bad. let me try, " head leans down enough to take a sip from jina's straw, the hopeful glint in her eyes disappearing quicker than a thief when the flavor hits her tongue. " ... well, it's definitely an acquired taste ... ! " what a horrible liar. every part of her is screaming to stay polite despite the horrible invasion on her tastebuds, bad enough to make you want to curse. " i don't think an almond croissant could fix ⸻ oh my god, how is that so bitter ? " noemi squeaks out before taking an elongated sip of her lavender lemonade, much sweeter in comparison. " i'm sure they'll replace it with something you like better, " she says whilst looking back at cafe over her shoulder, partially out of breath between sips because somehow, breathing makes it worse. " they have to, right ? "