#(who would probably be irritable about it which like nathan would fuck around and find out thats not in his nature)

[illmeowmeowyoutodeath]

Dialtown Theory about brains and hearts since I wanna complicate things?!?!?!? (I am no doctor so some things will be wrong, alright? Alright. Also beware spelling mistakes and grammar mistakes)

Obviously none of those characters have flesh heads, but like they must have brains (except for Stabby+Shooty /j) so I think that they have some AI System which is like sentient, they also must have a heart cuz yes. But not a real one, a mechanical one instead, reason being that an AI System wouldn't be able to regulate a real heart's heartbeat/heart rate (heart rate is important because the heart's function is important since the heart circulates oxygen and nutrient-rich blood throughout the body. When it's not working properly, just about everything is affected) therefore a mechanical heart is there instead of a real one since this helps to plump blood around the said body. BUT considering this is a game where heads are replaced with object heads, the said blood could be oil, oil can used instead of blood because oil can perhaps be more useful then blood and stops rust from forming since the said AI System and mechanical heart are made out of iron/metal (or some other unknown substance), this is important because if one's phone head gets rusty they can replace the rusty parts but if the "brain" starts to rust then they will die soon. That is because the rust will hinder the ai system's ability to work properly, the AI System wouldn't be able to correctly control the heart because it'll be too focused on trying to remove the rust from it's surface therefore the heart will be left unsupervised and eventually fuck up the heart rate which will cause the death of one. So really, one is technically immortal if their AI System doesn't fall victim to rust (oof). That is one cause of death, this is merely painless since you (well the AI System) are only focused on one thing and not the heart stopping bullshit.

Second version is if one's "heart" gets rusty, with this version one will feel immense pain throughout their last months since the AI System is still intact it'll give the "heart" the instructions to beat and plump oil/blood around the body, however because of the rust the oil/blood isn't good enough or clean anymore and would cause pain since it'll infect organs and such. Eventually, one will either die from oil poisoning (is blood poisoning a thing?) since instead of clean oil it is dirty oil or because of the pain one would kill themselves. Infections and such would also be a cause of death. (Cute!!)

If one's heart or brain is rusty, they can go to see a doctor so then if the brain or heart is rusty they can perform a surgery. For a heart, surgeons would cut one opened and scrape off any rust and put a protective layer anti-rust paint (that is a thing.) For brains, surgeons would find your AI System box in your head (or other places) and scape the rust off, they won't put any protective layers on the AI System box since that'll irritated the ai program, therefore causing your heart to he unsupervised and therefore your death.

The AI System box is a rectangular box full of wires, this is located in the middle of the head for normal rotary phones and typewriters as well printers. With the exceptions for Shooty and Stabby who's AI System box is above their "heart" since specifically for those heads, the AI System is small enough to fit there. Or with Abel who's phone is a candlestick, it is located in the black bakelite and probably slightly smaller in size. With Nathan Hanover, I assume it is located somewhere in the upper boat. Assuming that Mr Dicken's phone booth opens, I presume it is located in the same position where Shooty and Stabby have them. Craig has it probably in base cap, once again probably smaller in size. Dr. Circa Sission has it same position Stabby and Shooty have them in, Zimothy does as well.

An AI System box helps one to speak, it makes their voice, an AI System box also allows one to feel emotions such as fear or happiness. If an emotion part of the AI System box is damaged, one would lose some of their emotions or have one overriding emotion which is stronger then other ones or lose one emotion. If the part controlling speech is damaged, then the person will lose their voice.

However, that's just a theory, A GAME THEORY.

[familiaanteomnia]

It freaked him out, to hear that taking care of an robotic baby doll very much was an freshman ordeal. Could only faintly recall his older sister during that assignment and bits or pieces of it all. The whole thing seemed an terrible idea on so many fronts. Especially for him like he didn’t need the probably unspoken trying to deter nature of it or whatever. Only could think of the beyond dozens of different ways the assignment would suck. Who in their right mind would make him have to look after an expensive robotic baby doll anyways? Like yes give the teen with literal muscle spasms, twitches and the like who might throw it into the road one that’d go great. Or the risk of his mental illness adding to it. Not to say he’d throw an real one if it cried but... he did have an track record of conveniently needing to use the bathroom when some child was screaming their lungs out in a restaurant. He was bad with his own emotions, enough issues without the weird jarring ones provided by an upset kid. Even that aside the having to pair up with some girl; all the eyes like forget getting graded. Everybody would harass him- regardless of how he handled it or didn’t. Be dickish and all ‘im too busy’ they’d give him trouble over it. Yet if he showed up to practice then conveniently sat out because had to look after it that’d be worst. No way on earth he would be able to take it home with him after school. Damned if you do, damned if he didn’t and thus he might not be above trying to be exempt. Struggled enough with homework as it was- not because he was stupid more in fact because perfectionism or whatever. Plus, he was an busy freshman with drama club that he fought for and the team he was bought onto- more drama ironically. Plus did the school really want the bullying incidents to very noticably become frequent. Hell he might not even be the damage risk to the thing. Could vividly picture even not looking after it and whatever poor girl got partnered with him having it stolen then tossed in the fountain by proxy. There went your grade cause you got paired with me. Yeah no thanks. Maybe he would get lucky and other kids would destroy, lose them enough it didn’t matter. Or an odd number so he could politely dodge the bullet. Maybe it was an myth- an outdated thing or only like once an year with only some specific class. Optimism, hoping and being full of dread filled anxiety until then however.

[gointothevvater]

Kloktober day 3: Werewolves or Vampires 

I’m going with vampires today, and I’m gonna use this prompt to promote my Lost Boys AU, Say Hello To The Night! 

.

The moon was high and full and red over Santa Luna, California when Nathan rode into town in his shitty old truck.

A blood moon? Brutal. This was the night he'd stop, then. This was his destination. It felt like fate.

The town wasn't an especially big one, far, far smaller than Tampa, but it was far from his family, and it was far from Abigail, and that was what mattered.

The streets were busy, and it took a few minutes for Nathan to find a motel. Hotel California played in his head when he parked the truck in the mostly-empty parking lot, and when he stepped out of it, closing the door behind him, the heat of the summer night hit him hard. It was almost as bad as Florida. He could survive it. If he could survive Abigail ripping his heart out of his chest, he reasoned as he stepped into the motel's little office, he could survive anything.

As he was entering, another man was leaving. He was dressed in an impeccable suit, his hair long and silver, his hands clawed, and as he passed Nathan, he gave him a look that could cut glass. Nathan returned it, but was oddly grateful when he slipped out the door.

A young man nearly his own age sat behind the check-in desk, sneering and giving the silver-haired man not one but two middle fingers. He muttered, "Fucking bloodschucker." Then he looked at Nathan and asked, his tone none the nicer, "Checking in?"

Nathan grunted an affirmation, then asked, "There any jobs around here?"

"Nothing legal," the desk clerk said with a curl of his lightly fuzzed lip. He had a copy of Playboy open on the desk, but he didn't seem particularly interested in it. "Payment for the night is upfront," he said without looking up. He jerked a thumb toward a sign tacked up on the wall behind him that displayed prices for lengths of stay. "Checkout is at 11 a.m."

Nathan had enough to stay for a few weeks, and he pulled out his wallet to fish out the bills, handing them over with a pang of regret. His funds were rather limited, and he'd need to get a job before long. He wondered if any of the local bars would let someone who was only nineteen perform. He had a good voice for heavier music. "Probably gonna be here a while," he said to no one in particular. He was a little out of it, honestly. He'd been sleeping in the back seat of the truck for almost a week, and not even well. He was exhausted, and he was sure it showed.

The clerk, whose nametag read Will said, "Might wanna schleep with one eye open."

Brutal, Nathan thought again, and took the room key when Will offered it.

"Room seven," Will said, still not looking up. "Good luck."

Well, that was ominous. Nathan shrugged it off and headed back outside, the humid air hitting him like a wall. He wondered if his truck would be safe for the night. His whole life was in it. He'd locked it up, and the bed cover was pretty secure. The only thing worth stealing was his dirt bike, anyway. It was a 1984 Yamaha YZ490, which he had spray-painted black the day he brought it home. It was five years old, but it still ran well. He'd spent almost a year saving up for the thing, and it was his most precious possession. It currently lay on its side in the bed of the truck. Nathan patted the bed cover and unlocked the driver's side door, darting in to grab one of the suitcases he had left in the back seat. He locked the door, double-checked that it was locked, and set off down along the front of the motel.

He followed the doors until he reached the seventh one, unlocked it, and stepped inside. The floors were beige-carpeted, but the bedspreads were green, and they looked clean, the pillows, too. At the far side of the room was the door leading into the connected bathroom, but Nathan wasn't ready to check that out just yet. It wasn't terrible; He'd certainly stayed in worse places. He took a seat on the bed, bounced a bit. It would do. He pulled his suitcase into his lap and popped the latches. Inside were a few sets of both day clothes and pajamas, his most beloved CDs, which were of no use with his boom box in the truck's passenger seat, and his address book. It was mostly empty, but his parents were listed in there, and come morning, he would need to call them. He wouldn't call Abigail, he told himself, but he wasn't sure if he believed it or not. He sighed and flopped back on the bed, the suitcase bouncing on his legs.

Well, he thought, this sucks.

His neighbors were having a much better time than he was, if the woman's near-constant screams were any indication. Her cries of, "Oh, yes!," and, "Harder!" Did nothing for him, and he swallowed down a wave of self-hatred.

The woman on the other sound of the wall quieted, her voice dropping into a little whimpering noise, and Nathan thought back to the sounds Abigail made when he kissed her. They'd never gone any farther than that, though he knew she wanted to. Did he? He still wasn't sure. He'd hoped that putting some distance between them would help to clear his head, but he was still so confused.

He flinched when the woman next door screamed. Oh, a screamer. Wonderful.

She sounded like she was being murdered, and Nathan rolled his eyes. So much for a quiet night in.

He closed his suitcase and tossed it aside on the bed, rose, and stepped outside. He gave the neighbor's door an irritable bang as he passed. The woman tried to say something, but choked on the words, and Nathan scowled.

There was a great shuffling sound inside, and Nathan bristled, ready for a fight. The doorknob jiggled, and a man slipped out. He was taller than Nathan, which was honestly impressive, and about a decade older, if the streaks of silver in his hair and his beard were any indication. He had one dead eye, and Nathan met it as best he could. He wouldn't be intimidated by whoever this asshole thought he was.

The only reward he got for his effort was a snarl and the kind of glare that could have gotten a weaker man on his knees. Nathan would not go to his knees, but it took a huge amount of discipline to resist the urge.

Without a word, the man strode away, and Nathan watched him vanish around the side of the manager's office. The air was charged and hot, but he shivered, doing his best to ignore the coppery smell emanating from behind the door of room six.

[woeismyhoe]

Rachel Amber, The Broken Angel Who Demonized Herself

Fair warning, please bear with this probably incredibly **longass** (I’m not kidding it’s rlly long) analysis of one of the fandom’s most controversial disliked characters, Rachel Amber. This is just my attempt to analyze her character based on observation from BtS to LiS so by no means do you have to accept them. Productive discussions are obviously very welcomed :D

In LiS, when we asked about Rachel around campus, most of them had nothing but compliments and praises for the missing girl. She was essentially an honorary Vortex Club member who socialised with the snobs, yet she also hung out with the skater stoners and was friendly with those at the bottom of the social hierarchy. Then we see those graffiti around where it hints at Rachel’s promiscuity, debts and conflicts with other people. That’s the first sign we see that Rachel Amber isn’t as perfect as everyone was making her out to be. Afterwards we discover that Rachel was a stoner herself and into whatever drugs there were, partied harder than anyone else, promiscuous, entered a relationship with local drug dealer Frank Bowers while having a secret relationship with Psycho teacher Mark Jefferson— all while maintaining a 4.0 GPA in her studies and being considered perfect and adored by practically everyone in her school. The girl’s incredible, obviously, or maybe scary for someone to be so spread out in everything.

Rachel was a straight A student with a 4.0 GPA, an administrative assistant to the Principal, beloved by students and faculty alike, literal goddess beauty, had ambitions to be a model and study international law, daughter of the DA and was the closest to perfection anyone would ever be— so what went wrong? What made her romanticise the idea of running away from a town where everyone loves and adores her?

Because of the above.

Yes, it may sound whiny and dramatic to feel tired of being loved and being the center of attention all the time, but there’s no point to it if it’s not you who they adore, but the person you’re pretending to be— (“I was feeling angsty and reckless. Tired of living up to the perfect image everybody expects out of me.”) —especially when you have to do so much just to maintain the lie.

Throughout LiS and BtS, Rachel’s ability to get along with everyone was always mentioned. At face value she was akin to a social butterfly. She hung out with stoners regardless of their social status (skaters or the vortex club), was friendly with anyone regardless of their place in the social hierarchy (eg; Daniel/Evan/Steph/Drew/Nathan) or even to strangers others usually ignored (Samuel/Homeless lady). Like Evan said, Her friends were her friends. She wasn’t one to let peer pressure affect her relationships so she wasn’t afraid to make all those acquaintances.

However, for those who knew her closely (Chloe and Jefferson), she was referred to as a chameleon, someone who blended in with everyone and everywhere seamlessly. This was an important detail regarding who Rachel was and her intimacy with others. To be able to make that comparison, they would’ve needed to know who the person Rachel actually was underneath the masks she’d created over the years. Chloe was the first to truly see and accept her for who she was. Jefferson was the one who exploited her for it.

For most, being a social chameleon would count as a beneficial social skill if they’re subtle. So long as the person doesn’t lose themselves in the process and is able to separate their personas from their true self, it remains a skill and will be used as such.

The problem with Rachel was that it transcended beyond a skill. A social chameleon was *what* she became, and that led to losing her own sense of identity, to becoming a stranger in her own body.

We see her confiding to Chloe about this feeling in Brave New World: (“Do you think there’s a point when you’ve been acting so much that you don’t even have your own personality anymore? You’re just whatever you think other people want you to be?”) —to which Chloe tells her she does have a personality because she assumed Rachel was talking about herself. But Rachel apparently wasn’t and clarifies she was talking about her father. She then elaborates on how her father doesn’t really exist, that how he was in the principal’s office was a mere performance and then the actual truth— that she’s afraid she’ll end up like him.

No matter how you interpret that scene, the conclusion is that one of Rachel’s fears was becoming like James— someone who’s been so wrapped up in all the lies and manipulation that he no longer seemed recognisable to even his own daughter.

At that point her defence mechanism of deflection and avoidance came into play after Chloe got a little too close to home. We first see this on the train scene when they play Two Truths and a Lie. Rachel gave factual statements as opposed to Chloe who gave facts that elaborated into her personal life. At one point Chloe can ask how Rachel knew about having a distal radius fracture and It’s a very minor detail, but when she explains that it’s because she broke her wrist when she was 10, she says it extremely fast. When Chloe is about to press for more info about something personal no matter what option you choose, Rachel dismissively turns around the conversation from herself back to Chloe again.

The next time we see her deflecting is right after witnessing her father cheating. When Chloe asks about her, Rachel deflects and guilt trips her into somehow thinking she’s at fault for failing to get them wasted and then proceeds to drown her sorrows into alcohol instead of opening up. Afterwards when they find the junkyard, Rachel chooses to isolate herself from Chloe and withdraws to the corner, getting irritated if Chloe chooses to invade her space. When Chloe confronts her about her sudden moodiness, Rachel yet again deflects and shifts the attention to Chloe by essentially telling her she’s self-centred. This scene was classic Deflection 101 brought by Rachel’s defence mechanism to cope with her father’s betrayal.

Rachel uses deflection and avoidance as a defence mechanism, a habit which stems from the dynamics of the Amber family. When you have a Politician as a father whose life work is to manipulate and lie, and a Stepford Wife as a mother who wilfully acts like a servant to her husband out of sacrifice and duty— an environment of deceit and suppression of one’s feelings will be fostered. This is what shapes Rachel to be distrusting and unhealthily altruistic as we see in BtS.

And so Rachel’s deflection is driven by 2 things: mistrust (James) and her unhealthy altruism (Rose).

As a district attorney, James unfortunately carried his work persona into his personal life and can be presumed to lie to even his own family on a daily basis to the point that Rachel can tell when he’s lying: (“When your Dad is the District Attorney, I guess lying is...something you're used to.”) (Why can't you just tell me the fucking truth?! Stop lying! Stop being a politician for one fucking minute! Can’t you just be my Dad?”) What that tells us is that Rachel’s actually used to being lied at and treated with cynicism, so naturally that would make her guarded around others. Not to mention since James often exercised his professional prerogative (just recall how he spoke to Chloe and her comment about his micro-aggressions towards his own family), it’s most likely that he was also cynical towards people in general and carried that mindset forward at Rachel as well.

As for Rose, you have to really observe how she carried herself and her choice of words. A lot of people pointed out how robotic she sounded and blamed it on bad voice acting, but I think that was actually intentional. She was too mannered, too submissive and too robotic as a person. It’s not exactly a bad thing, but a lot of her personality seemed to be too... *political* for the sake of her husband’s political career. It was altruistic in the way that she sacrificed her own needs for her husband’s and was unfailingly supportive (eg; preparing dinner all by herself, *respectfully* asking James for his drink, even going so far as to excuse James for kissing Sera like wtf). Point is, Rose was the stereotypical political wife whose job was to shut up, look good and smile for her husband while he does the talking. At one point in the dinner scene when they start fighting, James even dared to say ‘Rose, let me handle this’ as if Rose’s voice was irrelevant and unimportant to the table (when he literally just got exposed for cheating lmao).

So what happens when your family environment consists of a father who actively lies and uses manipulation to twist facts, expects you to be compliant in exchange for rewards (birthday money), has the ability to read people, and a mother who does too much for someone who does the barest minimum for the family and represses herself for the sake of others? An environment of deceit and suppression will be fostered, and you develop all of their qualities, for better or worse. That’s difficult to change when your own family dynamics molded you to be that way and then reward you for it. If you recall, Rachel’s mannerisms changed completely when in front of her family and if Chloe complained about having to play the goody two shoes formal well-behaved humorless girl, Rachel would say: ‘try doing it your whole life’. So not only was she playing different roles in school but evidently at home as well.

But It’s not as if the Amber family was aware of the toxic environment they’d created. That’s just what their normal was: to be well-mannered, formal, professional, mature and well-articulated.

This is where Rachel’s social chameleon tendencies develops. Social chameleons usually have reasons for blending in when it comes to personal relationships:

1. Being liked is important for them (they value what people think of them).

2. They want to blend in so as to not stand out (they don’t like attention).

3. They’re doing it to make the other person comfortable (the needs of others come first before theirs).

Considering how Rachel was extremely popular, active in all sorts of school activities and enjoyed the attention of being the star, no. 2 is out. She confessed to wanting to stop being a social chameleon and didn’t seem to care much about Victoria’s dislike of her + she also did it to her family so no. 1 is out as well, which leaves us to no. 3— doing it for the comfort of others. In other words, because she *gave too much shit about other people all the time*.

What further supports the point of Rachel’s unhealthy altruism is what she says to Chloe at the junkyard— (“Maybe you should try giving a shit about other people for once.”) —which essentially tells us that she’s been doing exactly that to be able to lecture Chloe into following her own perspective. Another example would be what she tells Chloe during their therapy session: “—Because she was tired of having to give so many fucks all the time.”

One thing however that all *extreme* social chameleons share is the fact that they **loathe** themselves, or at the very least— dislike who they are. Why else would they go all the trouble of creating different personas for everyone to the point of forgetting their own, if they actually liked themselves?

One of the many things that Chloe and Rachel shared in common was their self-awareness in how undeniably shitty they can be, and that they hated who they were. Whereas Chloe embraced that whole part of her down her self destructive road, Rachel tried to cover hers up by playing other roles for people. Both girls played their sides to the ends of the spectrum; Chloe being selfish (causing problems for everyone in general unnecessarily) and Rachel being selfless (posing no problem for anyone in general even if there was a problem). They had no healthy balance and their unhealthy mindset ultimately drove them down a self destructive path.

Rachel knew she was selfish by nature, and that she’d take it out on Chloe in Ep 1. That’s why instead of talking about what was wrong, she chose to drown herself to alcohol and distance herself from Chloe. When Chloe confronts her about it, she either tells her that not everything revolves around her or that she should try giving a shit about people for once. In other words, ‘Other people have bigger problems than you so shut up and don’t make it worse for them.’ That was Rachel’s mentality and in that moment of poor lapse in judgment, she applied that logic to Chloe expecting her to think the way she does— to put others before yourself.

With Rachel, she always had her walls up and couldn’t help it even if she wanted to because it's practically second nature to have her guard up (“I never said how dearly I hold thee; my habit's been to keep my soul well-draped.“). It’s only in her lowest vulnerable moments is when she finally let her walls down because that’s when she’s too tired to keep them up.

Luckily (or unluckily) for Rachel, she recognized her problem. The only thing is that she didn’t know how to solve them. She confided to Chloe about feeling like she doesn’t exist, but then backtracked and clarified she was talking about her dad instead when Chloe got too close to home. Even IF she was genuinely talking about her father, it doesn’t erase the fact that she believed there was a possibility she was going to become like him— because she already saw the signs and made the comparison between them.

Remember her infamous outbursts in Awake? Unlike Chloe, she’s the type who keeps everything bottled in until it’s too much. Seeing her father kissing another woman was the breaking point and that’s why she reacted badly. And then when she kicked that bin, that was equivalent to Chloe smashing up the junkyard. And then that scream. That scream was the result of years bottling her pent up frustration, stress, anger at everyone including herself. Because she did everything to make her family proud, to please everyone to the point that she felt so empty and hollow, only to realize that it was all for nothing because her father was destroying her family. It wasn’t just a betrayal from her father but a betrayal to herself.

And then there’s Chloe Price. The girl who is the total opposite of her, yet who she can somehow still connect with at the same time. While she cared too much about what others thought, Chloe gave absolutely no fucks. That was her most attractive and admirable quality for Rachel. So what does she do? She latches onto Chloe to do exactly what she knows best. Become the ideal version of whoever wants her to be. In other words, the Rachel Amber who would finally give no fucks.

Rachel was the closest to her truest self when she was around Chloe. Just as she brought life and hope back into the girl’s life, so did Chloe for her. Chloe broke the walls she put up, and she’d seen her vulnerable enough times to let her mask slip. Chloe saw her at her lowest, ugliest self even when she wasn’t doing her usual thing of keeping everyone around her happy, yet she didn’t mock or leave her for it. For the first time, she was selfish, and *still* Chloe came back. That was a BIG reason to trust each other for the both of them. And that’s ultimately what bonded them for so long— the fact that they could be the shittiest people on earth, yet still see the best in each other even if they only see the worst in themselves.

Chloe was the first one to see through her social chameleon act because she slipped, and she continued to let her unmask who she was because that night Rachel just didn’t care enough to hold up the act any longer. This detail of Rachel’s chameleon act slipping *only* when something was wrong is a vital part in understanding the context around her. The first time was when she witnessed her whole world crash, the second was when she realized she was becoming like James, and the third was when she discovered what a monster James was. The fourth— when she asked that trucker for a drive out and didn’t bother to be her usual social chameleon self. We may never know what happened, but something wrong was going on in Rachel’s life that she didn’t want Chloe to be a part of— because why would she put the girl who stuck by her during her darkest hours through her bullshit again?

But at the end of the day, that wasn’t enough. Chloe wasn’t enough. And that’s understandable because a teenager truly can’t and shouldn’t have to be responsible for someone else’s happiness. No matter what choice Chloe makes at the end of BtS, the truth inevitably gets out and leads to Rachel having a fall out with her parents. When that happened, she lost a big pillar of her support system which only leaves her with Chloe who’s another emotionally damaged teen that’s on the road to self-destruction. Chloe can’t help others without helping herself first. But still, who else is there to make them feel a little less shitty except each other?

After her fall out with her parents and her father in particular, she seemed to have developed a taste for men twice her age: Frank Bowers (32) and Mark Jefferson (38). Whatever the reason her relationship with Frank was, she still wrote him those letters and seemed to have cared for him to some extent. Not only was he the source for drugs for her very much needed escape, but he was also the man who helped save her life in one of her most vulnerable moments, and a possible lead to find Sera. It’s not that surprising she’d seek comfort and safety in his arms when he already proved himself once. But clearly it wasn’t serious because she was fooling around with Jefferson at the same time (and Frank knew they wouldn’t have lasted anyway).

Now, Jefferson. The devs confirmed that Rachel was in love with Jefferson and honestly, that’s the least surprising thing ever considering how he basically had the female population of Blackwell head over heels for him. Even Rachel wasn’t immune to that psychopath’s charm. He was a well reputable photographer, had the connections to propel her modeling career, was attractive and mysterious and apparently a damaged soul. He was the perfect one way ticket out of Arcadia Bay. He was her photographer and she was his muse. He was basically the perfect solution to her problems.

The girl clearly had deep rooted daddy issues and was ashamed of it herself since she couldn’t even share her secret relationship to the one person she trusted the most despite sharing her other relationships with her (except Frank).

This is where the drugs and partying come in. They’re a way for her to escape the bullshit in her life for a few hours. Chloe was what made her feel real, but the drugs and partying was what made her forget— forget that her biological mother chose drugs and money over her (twice), forget that her own father was so despicable that he was planning to overdose Sera (this is what Chloe said in the silent dialogue), forget that her biological mother may just be dead somewhere because of James, forget that her own family was a lie, forget all the expectations placed upon her, forget that she herself was a lie, forget that she was so insecure that she had to seek warmth and safety in the arms of men twice her age, forget the guilt of knowing the girl who would die for her was still not enough, forget that at the end of the day all her problems is caused by her own mind and that her own fears had come to reality. And she hated herself for that.

But still, Rachel wasn’t a total junkie or outwardly self destructive to the point that she abandoned her studies like Chloe did. She didn’t let the drugs and partying dictate her life, hence the 4.0 GPA. After all, she still had a reputation to maintain. She was still the DA’s daughter, and getting into college was still a way to get out of Arcadia Bay.

BUT SEE, that was exactly Rachel’s problem. She could never choose which to be; The Problematic Junkie of a Disappointment (Sera), or the Golden Child (James & Rose) everyone expected her to be. She wanted to be as free as Chloe, but she also didn’t want to be a disappointment. She was tired of everything but couldn’t allow herself to fall because it was her nature to demand the best of herself for others as long as she could do it. But what happens when it’s your very own nature you’re going against? It gets really complicated. So instead of choosing, she doesn’t and becomes both. That was ultimately the worst decision she ever made.

Make no mistake, Rachel was an absolute idiot for being so indecisive. She could have easily solved her problems if she just finally gave no shit and did whatever she wanted to. But that’s the problem with people who’re labeled as perfect growing up. They eventually believe it and demand perfection of themselves. They care too much about everything because if they have the ability to be perfect, then why would you choose not to be? When someone is seen to be perfect, disappointment is 10x worse. Even Chloe was guilty of idealizing Rachel to be this perfect girl and was disappointed when she realized Rachel was just like everyone else who puts in hard work—(“Rachel's always made being an A student seem so easy. Almost sad to see all this... effort."), but it’s Chloe accepting Rachel for who she was despite no longer being the perfect girl she believed her to be that mattered.

With being seen as perfect usually comes with the assumption that your whole life is. Just as everyone invalidated her problems because she’s Little Miss Perfect with the perfect grades and the seemingly perfect family, so did she.

‘Cause hey, what does she have to be mad about when she’s a rich white girl who’s been given everything she’s ever wanted, right? (James basically said that). At that point the only problem Rachel had was that she was acting as the perfect daughter and perfect friend and perfect student at the expense of her own happiness, and then throw in the sudden slap in the face that it was all for nothing because her father was destroying the family she’d tried so hard to do proud.

But then again even if that wasn’t enough reason to spiral, it really would mess you up if your own father told you that your biological mother chose money and drugs over you, that everything you’ve done so far was all for a lie and worst of all, that your own father was going to kill your biological mother and there’s nothing you can do to change that. I mean really, I’m not a therapist or anything but I wouldn’t be surprised if Rachel’s mental health was suffering by that point.

I mean get this: she abused drugs and partied harder than anyone else and got wasted even though she knew they were wrong (Sera would’ve been a painful reminder), slept around with older men who undoubtedly took advantage and controlled her, continued to act like the perfect student and pretended to be someone she’s not just to keep everyone happy even though it was causing her to question her own existence— it’s almost as if she was punishing herself for continuing down that path.

Ultimately what Rachel was running away from was who she had become in Arcadia Bay. Once she’d be out, she wouldn’t be Little Miss Perfect anymore. She wouldn’t be the DA’s daughter. She wouldn’t have to keep lying. She would be able to start over. She would just be Rachel Amber, the nobody.

She cared too much in contrast to Chloe’s ‘I don’t give a shit’ attitude, and that’s why she still managed to maintain her perfect image even when she was already so broken. Whereas Chloe’s first instinct was to blame others, Rachel’s was to blame herself. Both never had a healthy balance when it came to accepting responsibility and that’s what connected them so well together.

Call it selflessness or selfishness or stupidity or melodrama, but at the end of the day Rachel tried to keep everyone around her happy, just like Max tried to do with her powers except Rachel used lies to do it. She was greedy and selfish, no disagreement to that, but she also tried to be selfless for most of her life. She was her own enemy and she demonized herself for it. And that got her murdered, thrown and buried away like the used rag doll she treated herself to be.

She was Chloe’s angel and Chloe was hers, but she was also her own demon. And there’s only so much two broken angels can do against a demon.

**TL;DR:** Idealizing her to be the Perfect Girl was what made her want to run away. Her family was what broke her. Desperation for escape was what killed her. Her family just *really* suck.

Now, I’m not trying to justify Rachel’s actions but merely rationalizing her character. I acknowledge that she was capable of being a shitty person at times, but just as Chloe had her issues, so did she, and so I choose to see them both for what they tried to be. Good hearted people just trying to make their shitty life a little easier. At the end of the day, Rachel Amber was a deeply flawed, insecure and emotionally damaged girl that pretended like nothing was wrong to forget about her troubles for a little, and was just dealt a bad hand in life. Literally.

After writing all of this, I realize that holy shit this girl was fucking complicated and a single post doesn’t do her justice nor explains her character properly enough. I thought it’d be simple enough to word it out, but then again, someone who was basically a junkie yet still managed to maintain her perfect reputation amongst her peers and the faculty is bound to be this complexed. Also as you can see I got very lazy at the middle of the elaborations and repetition has probably made this unnecessarily long but thank you for reading and finishing this overall confusing and messy essay.

[pricemarshfield]

i dig you

A fluff & angst Amberprice fic. Chapter 1/2. Read on AO3 here.

Chloe still seems shocked every time Rachel sits next to her at lunch. She hides it well, snarks at anyone who questions them, teases Rachel about the plays she still brings to read and reread again and again.

But Rachel's pretty insightful, and she notices when Chloe's eyes widen, when she shifts like she's not quite sure what to do, when her smile dims a little when Victoria loudly questions why Rachel's still hanging around the soon-to-be-dropout.

She's not sure what to do about it. If she just tells her no, Chloe, I do want to be here still, she's sure Chloe'd find a way to take it the wrong way, question why she needed to bring it up, deny she ever doubted it in the first place. One or all of those things. She loves her, but her abandonment issues run deep. Rachel could punch Victoria, but she'd definitely get kicked out for that, and she doesn't want to risk law school.

So she makes an effort to include Chloe in everything. Chloe sits in on rehearsals, ignoring Mr. Keaton's increasingly desperate attempts to get her to join or at least take the intro elective class. They get high in the junkyard, find a little room and make it their own with graffiti (with actual spray paint, thank you, not a Sharpie). Rachel watches Chloe's weird movies, Chloe watches Rachel's Broadway bootlegs, they listen to punk and drive around in the truck, fabric of the seat replaced so they can't see the deep, dark red stain from when she got stabbed.

It doesn't change anything. Chloe still looks at her like it'll be the last time they hang out every time they have some minor disagreement, texts a hundred times in a row begging her not to leave her every time she gets drunk without Rachel there to reassure her in person. It's...a little exhausting, if she's being honest. She loves Chloe, she wants to help her! But it's...sometimes she's just trying to have fun with some other group, and it's been three parties of that in a row.

"You texting your girlfriend?" asks some well-meaning newbie to the Vortex Club. Rachel opens her mouth to deny it, already dreading having to make herself heard over Victoria's snide commentary and Nathan's barely-veiled homophobia, but then her phone goes off again, and again, and one more time for good measure.

"I do have to take this," she says, and pretends she can't hear the conversation that kicks up before the door's fully shut behind her.

The cool, fresh air outside is refreshing, and she takes a couple deep breaths before calling Chloe.

"Rachel," Chloe says, voice slurring enough that Rachel's heart immediately kicks into a higher gear.

"Hey, Chlo," Rachel says, a nickname she has not used once in her life. "What's up?"

"Wher're you?" Chloe asks instead. Rachel doesn't hear the sound of the train, so probably not in the junkyard? But it could just not be passing.

"At Blackwell," Rachel says, which isn't, technically, a lie. She's on school grounds, and she says it casually enough that Chloe doesn't immediately push. "Do you want to come over? We could put on a movie, light some incense."

Chloe laughs, and the sound is light and easy before it cuts out abruptly. She can't hear anything on the other end.

"Chloe? Are you okay?"

"I'm fucking fine," Chloe says, and she keeps her voice quiet, so that means she's at her house. Rachel's tipsiness from earlier in the night has long since faded, she's probably good to drive, and she really, really doesn't want to leave Chloe alone. There's an edge to her voice that Rachel doesn't trust, reminds her of the fragility in her mom's voice the last time she visited before apparently disappearing off the face of the earth.

Rachel hopes she's in rehab. But she thinks Rose would tell her if that was the case.

"Okay," Rachel says. "I'd still like to hang out, if you're free."

"'Course I'm free," Chloe says. "i don't have any fuckin' friends, do I." It's not said like a question.

"You have me."

"Right," Chloe says. "Just the best of friends."

Rachel's already in the parking lot, trying to remember where the hell she'd parked the car. (Her dad's: knowing how much evidence they have on him working with Damon, he's been inclined to give her everything she wants, especially now that she's already met her mom. Rose still tries, too.) "Yeah. We're best friends, Chloe. You're the person I care about most in this shithole town."

"Yeah," Chloe says. "Yeah, when are we leaving, again? Thought you wanted to leave more than anything?"

"I did!" Rachel says, then corrects, "I do. I had to heal up after getting stabbed, remember?"

It's shitty and manipulative, but it works; Chloe's irritation switches to concern. "Yeah. I remember."

"But I am feeling better now," Rachel says. "I'm ready to go when you are."

"Now?"

"Sure," Rachel says. "Tell me where you are."

"Step-dick's house," Chloe says, quieter now. "Do you mean it?"

"Of course I mean it," Rachel says. "Do you still have all the clothes I packed you?"

"Yeah," Chloe says, voice hitching a little like she's about to cry. "I do."

"Awesome," Rachel says, excited despite herself. "Then I'll see you soon."

---

Rachel wants to be ready for the grand adventure with her friend at her side, but Chloe's house is more than a couple minutes' drive from Blackwell, which gives the logical parts of her plenty of time to ask her what the fuck she thinks she's doing.

They have no money. Rachel's barely gotten her first credit card, and it has, like, 1500 dollars on it. Which is a lot of money, but she's already spent some of it on alcohol, on their half-decent fakes, on Venmoing Frank for their weed or the other things she's tentatively tried. So they have about a thousand, which will cover gas to LA, at least, and probably food, and do they really need hotel rooms?

But of course they need hotel rooms, they can't just park by the side of the road in the middle-of-nowhere freeways. Those are like...fifty bucks? A hundred bucks? They can share a bed, that should make it cheaper.

So. A thousand will get them to LA. Then they'll...get jobs, Rachel guesses.

She's got this idea of herself working at a diner, wearing some cute outfit with pops of red, serving coffee and making small talk with the chefs while she waits for her big break. But that's only good for the modelling; she wants to go into law one day, too.

Maybe she can transfer to a school there? Showing she's independent enough to live on her own (with Chloe, of course, but without her parents there) has to look good on an application?

Or reckless and irresponsible, like her dad keeps calling Chloe.

All-in-all, Rachel's doubting everything in her entire life as she pulls up to Chloe's house. Chloe isn't outside, and she's about to throw some pebbles at her window when the front door opens with barely a creak.

"Did you oil the hinges?" Rachel asks, trying to keep the tone light. "Handy."

Chloe beams at her, wearing Rachel's old tarot shirt. Fuck, her tarot decks, she wants to bring those. All her things. At least some clothes. Probably some food, too?

"Do you have all the stuff you wanna bring?" Rachel asks. "We might need to stop by my place."

"That's what you said last time," Chloe says, but looks at Rachel, wearing her party outfit--only a tank top and some high shorts, which are cute but not great for the only outfit to have in a big life change--and shrugs.

Rachel breathes a sigh of relief. "Plus, they'll get mad if we steal the car. And gas is gonna be expensive enough."

"Don't care," Chloe says. "I'll take the truck."

Chloe, who is visibly swaying on her feet, is absolutely not good to drive. Rachel thinks for a second--if she drives her dad's car back, Chloe can be in the passenger seat, but then they'll have to walk with all her bags back to the truck. If they take the truck, Rachel can leave the keys and a note explaining where it is. They'll be mad, but whatever.

"Can I drive your truck, actually?" Rachel asks, and Chloe shrugs again. It won't be the first time behind the wheel of the truck, but it will be the first time on actual roads, not the paths they'd cleared in the junkyard. "Thanks, Chloe."

"Sure," Chloe says, tossing her the keys and yanking at the handle on her side. Rachel opens her door, reaches over to unlock the passenger side so Chloe can climb in. "What are we getting?"

"Clothes," Rachel says. "Maybe my tarot decks."

A couple of the plays she has physical copies of. Any and all drugs left in her room. Her flashlight that Chloe made for her. The important things.

"Okay," Chloe says. "You mean it? We're gonna leave?"

"I do," Rachel says, and she should kiss her. She should. She has before. She wants to. But she looks at Chloe, eyes still wide with disbelief that Rachel will follow her, will help lead the way out. If she pushes this, and she's wrong...

Rachel grabs her hand instead, smiles at her. Chloe squeezes it, and they keep holding hands the whole way to the Amber house. Rachel hopes she won't ever let go.

[calumance]

LA Devotee - Part XVI

Warnings: cussing, angst, lil bit of punching, fighting

Word Count: 4k

Summary: With Calum gone, Emily and Calum can’t seem to ever be on the same wave length, and then he shows up.

A/N: This is horribly angsty, but every good story needs a good angsty chapter. 💕💕 Happy reading!!!! Feedback and requests are always welcomed!!! (Want to know when I post new stuff? Let me know!)

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII |Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV | Part XV

Masterlist

        It’s been three whole weeks since Calum has been gone. Three whole weeks of us Face Timing every night, texting throughout the day, and telling each other how much we miss each other. Today I woke up feeling extra tired, and extra annoyed that Calum still wasn’t here to wake up next to me. After a quick shower, I pulled my hair that still held it’s curl from the day before into a messy pony tail, and pulled on a black maxi dress, a jean jacket, and a pair of black sandals. It was supposed to be hot today, which made the dress practical, but it also felt nice to wear a dress every once in a while.

        Work was the same as it was every day, the only thing that made up for it was Calum posting a picture of us from a few days before he left and captioned it with “Missing this one extra hard today.” A smile stretched across my lips as I used my pointer finger to double tap the image and then used my thumbs to type out a comment: “Missing you extra, extra hard.” For a second, I contemplated not putting a heart, but just before I hit send, I put a heart.

        Just as Mikayla and I parted ways in the parking garage, my phone rang, the picture on my screen telling me it was Calum. I shut my car door and answered, the call being transferred to handsfree mode. “Hello, my darling.” I greeted Calum as I twisted awkwardly to start pulling out of my parking space.

        He sighed, “Hey, love.” He sounded like he was frustrated. My stomach twisted, he never sounded like this when he talks to me.

        My eyebrows furrowed, “Is everything okay?” The engine roared as I pulled out onto the main road. I readjusted my grip on the steering wheel, nervous that he was, for some reason, frustrated with me.

        “Yeah, I just haven’t been sleeping well the past couple of nights. How was your day?” Luke was singing in the background and even through the phone, I could sense Calum’s irritation.

        “It was okay. Why haven’t you been getting sleep?” My eyes focused on the road, but my mind focused on wishing I could be with him. I miss running my hands through his thick hair, I miss him wrapping his arms around me in the middle of the night to pull me closer. I miss the feeling of his lips on mine in the morning, apologizing that he hadn’t brushed his teeth yet. I miss laying by the pool, his head on my chest as the sun beat down on both of us. This was harder than I thought it would be.

        Luke continued to sing behind him until suddenly a door slammed shut. “I’m just missing you really bad lately. I wish you could come visit me, did you ask about how much time you could take off?” There was a slight echo behind him, like he was standing in a bathroom.

        I hadn’t gotten the chance to ask about my time off yet, we’ve been quite busy the past few days. Every chance I thought I had to get up and ask my boss, something else was slapped onto my desk. I rubbed my forehead in frustration and sighed, “I’m sorry, Calum. I haven’t had the chance to talk to my boss, it’s been so busy. I can ask her tomorrow, I promise.”

        He sighed, this time it was obvious the irritation was towards me. My heart stopped and I looked at the radio to see if the call was still going. “Okay. I have to go, I’ll talk to you later.” I didn’t even get another word in before he hung up. The tears welled up in my eyes, if there was anyone who wanted me to visit him more than he did, it was me, but it’s not my fault that work sometimes has to come first. I slammed my hand on the steering wheel, a scream building in my chest.

        As I pulled into the driveway, I wiped a few tears off my face. As I climbed out of my car, I reached into my bag to find the keys to the house. When I looked up, my bad day got one hundred times worse. Nathan was leaning against the front door, the stupid tooth pick he always had hanging out of his mouth. I stopped dead in my tracks, I absolutely did not need this today. “What the fuck are you doing here, Nathan? How did you even find out where I live?”

        Nathan pushed himself off the door and took the steps towards me to close the space between us. “I have connections. So, this is your house? You bought this?”

        I ran my hand over my hair and lowered my hand, slapping it against my thigh. “No, I didn’t buy this house. How the hell did you find this address?” There was no way I was going to leave the spot I was standing in until I knew he was gone. I knew that if I tried to get myself inside and lock the door, Nathan would push his way in, and there was no way in hell I was going to let that happen. Nathan smirked and rolled the toothpick in his mouth as he got closer to me. After the day I had, the thought of punching him became a lot more prominent. “Listen, motherfucker, It’s been almost six months since our divorce was finalized and you have spent more time showing up in Los Angeles to see what’s going on in my life, than you’ve spent on your own life.” I chuckled a sarcastic chuckle, “If you’d spent this much attention on me when we were married, maybe it wouldn’t have ended.” I shrugged and crossed my arms, standing my ground.

        Nathan’s stupid smirk wiped off his face. He didn’t have much to say back, but he looked around me. “So where’s your perfect boyfriend at, anyway?”

        “He’s not home.” I spat back at him.

        He took the toothpick out of his mouth and got uncomfortably close to me, “Well, since he’s not home, maybe we could go inside, and,” He looked me up and down, causing my skin to boil, “Try to make up, or something.”

        I pushed him away from me as hard as I possibly could, “What the fuck is wrong with you? Get the fuck away from me, I will literally call the cops on you.” The tears started to well in my eyes from anger. My keys finding their ways between my fingers in defense. Not wanting Nathan to get the satisfaction of seeing me cry, I swallowed the tears and started to pull out my phone.

        “Oh, you’re going to call the cops on me. I’m so scared.” He mocked me and it caused the anger and all of the shit that I’ve had to deal with today to boil over. In one swift motion, I balled my fist and connected to his face. He fell backwards and held his face.

        I shook out my hand and readjusted the bag on my shoulder. “Get off this property, never fucking show your face in around me or anyone I know ever again, or I will call the cops and get a restraining order.” Nathan let go of his face and pushed himself off the ground. He got close to me but I stood my ground. With a shake of his head, he walked away. As soon as he rounded the corner, the tears started to resurface. My hands were shaking as I found the key to open the front door. As soon as I shut and locked the door behind me, I slid to the ground, placing my face in my hands and cried.

        I wasn’t sure how long I sat there crying for, but it was long enough that it was now dark outside. I pulled my phone out of my bag and saw a text message from Calum. My stomach turned and I dropped my phone before pushing myself up and making my way to the kitchen. After I finished eating dinner, I started to walk into the living room. My eye caught sight of my phone still laying on the ground by the front door. I ran my hand back over my hair and made my way over to my phone, picking it up and looking at the screen. There was a single missed call from Calum and the unread text message from a while ago. I unlocked my phone and read the message: “I’m sorry I acted like such a jerk. I’m going to go to bed early tonight. I’m sorry if I upset you, just remember that you mean the world to me. Xx Cal.” Knowing that the missed call was probably his goodnight call, I typed a message back to him: “It’s fine, you mean the world to me too. I hope you get some sleep, we’ll talk tomorrow. Xx”

         After I fed Duke, I walked to the bedroom and changed into some pajamas and sat on the end of the bed. I ran my hands over my face then walked into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. By the time I was ready for bed, Duke had jumped onto the bed and made himself comfortable. Before I joined him, I walked around the house making sure all of the lights were off and all of the doors were locked. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I started crying again, crying myself to sleep.

         I woke up before my alarm, and instead of going back to sleep, I just got up. Duke and I made our way into the kitchen and he immediately walked to the back door. After I let him outside, I grabbed some food and made a quick breakfast. Duke followed me into the bathroom and laid on the bathmat as I showered, he was missing Calum just as much as I was. I wore another dress to work, not really feeling like trying to put together an actual outfit. When I sat down at my desk, I dropped my head into my hands. “Is everything okay, Emily?”

         “Nathan showed up at Calum’s last night. He said he got the address because he has ‘connections.’ I punched him, like I actually punched him. He tried to get me to have sex with him.” I dropped my hands, the tears beginning to well in my eyes. My eyes found their way to the ceiling to try to hold them back.

         Mikayla’s eyes grew wide, “Jesus, have you told Calum?”

         I laughed and let a few tears fall. “No, because I don’t want to worry him with that kind of stuff. I can handle it, I mean, I did handle it. He hasn’t been sleeping and I just don’t want to bother him.” I shrugged and turned to see if my boss was in her office yet. Before I got too busy I pushed myself out of my chair and walked towards her office, knocking lightly on the open door. She lifted her eyes from her computer, over the top of her glasses. “I’m sorry to bother you, but is there any way you could tell me how much vacation time I have? My boyfriend is going to be out of town for a while and I’d like to go visit him.” I interlaced my fingers in front of me, always being nervous to talk to her. She was nice and all, but I’ve seen what happens when people get on her bad side.

         She leaned back and took her glasses off, “You’re the one who is with that musician boy, right?” I nodded, running my hand up and down my arm. “Someone had mentioned it, but I wasn’t sure who they were talking about. Let me look for you, you can take a seat while I look.” I thanked her and sat in the chair closest to the door. She typed and clicked her mouse a few times and then she hummed. “It looks like you have five days, but that’s all you’ll have until the beginning of the year. However, you have a couple of sick days you could use if you need more time.” She took her glasses off and smiled at me.

         I stood and smoothed down my dress. “Thank you, I will let you know what we decide.” I dipped out of her office and sat at my desk. Every couple of minutes, I would check my phone to see if Calum had sent me a text, but I didn’t get one until lunch time. “We have a day off today, so I slept in and finally got some sleep. Please call me when you get home, I want to apologize for how I acted yesterday, Xx Cal.” As much as I wanted to respond to him, I didn’t. Everything has been just shit for a day and a half, and I just needed some time to breathe.

         When I locked the door behind me, I tapped Calum’s name and pressed the speaker to my ear. The dial tone sounded as I walked toward the back door and opened it. Duke went running out and I followed behind him, sitting in a wicker chair by the pool. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wedged my free arm between my thighs and my stomach. Just as I was about to give up on the phone call, Calum answered. “Hey, sunshine. Sorry, I fell asleep with my phone on the bed and it fell and I couldn’t get to it. How was your day?”

        “Better than yesterday. My boss says I have five vacation days and a couple of sick days until the end of the year. I told her I’d let her know what we decide.” I lowered my head, still upset about how we ended our conversation yesterday, and the fact that Nathan showed up.

         “That’s great! I’ll look tomorrow when the best time for you to come visit will be and then we can get everything booked.” He paused, but then continued. “I can’t wait to see you, I miss you so much.” His voice sounded like he was smiling.

         I lifted my arm and ran my fingers over my lips. “I miss you too, honey.” I sighed and ran my fingers over my brow ridge, “I need to tell you something.” I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him about Nathan showing up here, but this is his house, he deserves to know. Also, Calum had told me that I could tell him anything. I closed my eyes and put my hand over my eyes. “Nathan showed up here yesterday. I don’t know how he found your address, all he said was he has connections. He tried to get me to have sex with him, so I punched him and threatened to call the cops. I think I should get a restraining order.” The other end of the line was silent. I pulled the phone away from my ear to make sure the call didn’t drop. After the call screen showed it still counting the time we were talking, I placed the speaker back to my ear. “Are you still there?”

       “Why didn’t you tell me, Emily?” He voice was low, like it had been yesterday when he hung up on me. My heart skipped a beat, the fear that this was the exact reaction he was going to have suddenly becoming reality.

        The words got caught in my throat as the tears started to form. “I didn’t want to bother you with this. I handled it, what were you supposed to do from New York?” I didn’t mean for it to sound the way it did, but the words came out harsh.

        “You didn’t want to bother me?” His voice got louder, and the tears started to fall. “Emily, when are you going to learn that I am a part of your life now? When are you going to learn that I will do anything to protect you and be there for you. I had the day off, I could’ve come home and made sure you were safe. My god, Emily, when are you going to learn to be less selfish?”

         That struck a chord with me. Nathan always said shit to me like that, even when I spent hours upon hours doing things for him. I stood up out of the chair, the tears stinging as they rolled down my cheek. “Selfish? How was I being selfish when I was trying to keep my shit show of a life out of your career so you could rest? How was I being selfish when I was literally only thinking about you?” I was yelling now, my chest hurting from my heart beating so fast.

         “Because your shit show of a life is now my shit show of a life, Emily, just like how my life is now your life.” He yelled back at me, which I deserved, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. “Fucking hell, Emily, when are you going to learn that I actually care about you and our relationship?” His lowered his voice to say that, but it still wasn’t in a good way. There was an underlying tone of annoyance and anger. I had nothing to say to him, I knew he cared about me, I knew he cared about our relationship, but I’m so damaged. “I can’t talk to you right now. Goodnight, Emily.” The phone beeped in my ear telling me the call had ended. My face burned as the tears continuously flowed down my cheeks. I held onto my phone as tightly as I could, resisting the urge to throw it across the yard or into the pool.

         Duke was standing at the back door, and I slid it open to let him and myself inside. Duke ran to the couch and wagged his tail, but TV wasn’t how I was feeling. I locked the back door behind me and then walked to the front door to make sure it was locked. My phone was still grasped in my hand until I made it to the bedroom where I tossed it onto the bed before crawling under the covers and closing my eyes, hoping sleep would carry me to tomorrow.

         The only reason I slept was because of the crying. If my body hadn’t been so tired from crying, I would’ve stared at the ceiling all night long. My body ached, my heart ached, everything just hurt. I sat up on the bed and ran my hands through my hair, the thought of calling in to work passing through my head. The thought quickly passed as I threw the comforter off my legs and made my way into the bathroom. Today was another leggings and oversized sweater day, and instead of making coffee, I stopped at Starbucks.

         My desk chair squeaked as I sat in it and turned my computer on. Mikayla looked at me over her computer. We met eyes and I just shook my head, putting my headphones in. That’s how the whole day went. Every time Mikayla’s eyes would meet mine, I would shake my head. When it was time for lunch, I shook my head, and continued to work. Mikayla brought a salad back from the café for me, and as hungry as I was, I shook my head and left it where it sat. It must’ve been eating away at Mikayla because she abruptly stood up from her desk, walked over to mine and pulled my headphone out of my ear. “I have never seen you like this. What is going on?” Again, I just shook my head. “Emily, what is wrong? You look like you got ran over by a train.”

          I raised my eyebrows and mumbled, “Feel like it too.”

          “Are you going to talk to me about it?” I shook my head, still not taking my eyes off my work. “Okay, fine. Just, eat something. Don’t starve yourself.” She walked away from my desk, and sat at hers, obviously frustrated. I eyed the salad she had left on my desk and slowly popped the top off and poured the dressing over the top. As I worked, I slowly ate the salad, and slowly felt the hunger cloud disappear. Although that cloud had disappeared, the black cloud of hurt still lingered.

         At the end of the day, I headed straight for my car. All I wanted to do was go home, and drink alone until I passed out. Just as I reached my car, Mikayla’s voice sounded behind me, “Emily, wait.” I turned around and looked at her without any expression. “Can we talk, before you go home? I’m really worried about you. We can talk in your car.” As much as I wanted to say no, the need of wanting this hurt to go away took over. So, I nodded and she climbed in the passenger side. I pressed the start/stop button so that only the radio turned on. Mikayla’s eyes burned a hole in the side of my head, and as I thought about what to say first, the tears sat on the brim of my eyes.

         The first time I tried to speak, nothing came out. I placed my finger over my lips and lifted my elbow to the edge of the window, looking out the window and allowing the tears to fall. After a couple more breaths, it finally came out. “I told Calum about Nathan showing up. He asked me why I didn’t tell him, and I told him it was because I didn’t want to bother him. Calum proceeded to get incredibly angry because if he had known, he would’ve taken his day off to fly home and be with me. I told him that wasn’t necessary because I didn’t want him getting mixed up in my shit show life.” I dropped my arm from the window and looked at my hands, which were trembling. I cleared my throat and continued. “He told me that I was selfish because when we decided to be in a relationship, it meant that his life was my life, and my life was his life. After that he said he couldn’t talk to me, and I haven’t talked to him since.”

          I hadn’t noticed until I was done talking that Mikayla had her hand wrapped around my arm. When I looked at her, her eyes were soft, her face felt the same pain I was feeling. “Emily, I’m so sorry. Can I tell you what I’m thinking?” I nodded. Everything she says to me always makes me feel better. Since the day we met, and she wedged her way into my life, moments like this she just knew what to say. “Calum’s right.” My eyes narrowed and my eyebrows furrowed. “Hold on, let me keep going before you get mad at me. He’s right that when you two decided to be in a relationship that his life became yours and your life became his. That’s actually how relationships work. However, I don’t think he handled it correctly. Instead of saying he couldn’t talk to you, he should’ve embraced you from a far. He’ll come back around. Just give him time, you said he wasn’t sleeping, maybe he just lashed out. Have you tried calling him or anything?” My eyes left her face and I shook my head, “Maybe you should. Want me to come over tonight?” I shook my head again and told her I’d be fine. “Okay, well, text me when you get home. Everything’s going to be fine, don’t over think it. Love you, mean it.” With that, she climbed out of car and I started the engine and drove home.

************

Tag list: @notinthesameguey​ @thinkofmehlgh​ @another-lonely-heart​ @limer-encia​ @viiirg0​ @itsmytimetoodream​ @babyoria​

[iamtheholyghost]

Haven for the ask thing!!

My favourite Female character: Jesus I'm gonna cheat and put Audrey and Mara because I love them so much. They're both absolutely beautiful because Emily of course.

Audrey is a caring wonderful person with so much shit on her plate who does care so much about the people around her even though she shits on some people Her heart is in the right place and she deserves to be happy.

Mara is the classic sarcastic vain bitch who I find completely attractive for that. I like her attitude of taking what she wants because she can, the whole chip on her shoulder thing is great (I pretend the Canon reasons why don't exist). She can play and manipulate people to use them fully to her advantage or even just because she thinks it's funny. She is of course is a terrible person for treating people like used tissues but hey if I was from another realm I'd do a similar thing.

My Favorite Male Character: Duke, (He looks so much like one of my friends irl) But I think he is such a good person who pretends he isn't because he keeps getting hurt and I want to be his friend to protect him. He has the bad boy persona that I saw though immediately, he would do anything for Audrey and Nathan. He was willing to die if it meant saving Haven. THIS BOY DESERVES TO BE PROTECTED.

My Favorite Season: It would definitely be 3. The first 2 were not necessarily boring but building up to something big but not jumping full on to ridiculous levels yet I felt 3 was the sweet spot for me.

My Favourite Episode: Now I loved The first 4 episodes of season 5 which are my go to when I want my dose of Mara goodess. My favourite episode would be Audrey Parkers Day Off I thought the writing and acting were top notch 👌

My Favorite Cast Member: Yes of course I'm gonna say Emily Rose, precious angel she is

My Favorite Ship: Audrey, Nathan and Duke 3 way thing but I do like Dwight and Charlotte.

A Character I'd Die Defending: Gloria.

A Character I just Can't Sympathise With: Jordan she just annoyed the utter shit out of me. Whiny, oh my life is hard because I have poison touch piss off love maybe if you were actually likeable and not a moaning tool people would care

A Character I Grew To Love: Nathan, (when I first watched which was in February of this year) I found him irritating like I just didn't like him at first Then when I got more into the show he grew on me when he finally admitted he liked Audrey I'm like fucking hell TAKE YOUR TIME GODS SAKE. He felt her touch and I was like TELL HER WHY DID IT TAKE SO LONG JESUS

My Anti OTP: I was going to put in Nathan and Sarah but I liked them so it's gotta be Jordan and Nathan because Jordan should go to the bin where she belongs. (Probably answered this wrong but who cares 🤣)

Thanks so much! This took longer than it should of i could of went on forever 😅

[fanforthefics]

For the AU game. Bodyguard AU or Teacher AU for Tyson/Gabe??

1) Everyone knows of the Great Rivalry.

At least, everyone at Avalanche High does. It’s one of the first things Freshmen are filled in on. These are the edible meals from the cafeteria, these are the bathrooms not to go into if you don’t want a contact high, and also, if you ever want to stop Mr. Barrie’s Chem class for ten minutes, ask him about the time Mr. Landeskog stole all his pens. That will get you at least ten minutes of ranting about humanities teachers who think they’re too good for logic and rationality and like to nitpick other people’s grammar and the time it takes to grade and fashion choices and who definitely think they’re better than everyone else just because they happen to be good at everything. He might go a bit into his perfect hair, but take takes a particularly windswept day.

Of course, if you want to delay Mr. Landeskog’s class, you can ask about the time Mr. Barrie put a stink bomb in his classroom so he had to have class outside all day. He can’t prove it was Mr. Barrie and his homeroom, but that won’t stop him snapping about it and ridiculous science teachers who don’t understand nuance and purposefully misinterpret everything and never take things seriously. If you catch him at the right moment, and ask about Mr. Barrie’s habit of bringing in cookies for his classes, Mr. Landeskog might skip a beat, but it usually won’t get you a longer rant, so it’s not useful.

This is the Great Rivalry. This is Avalanche High’s favorite drama. (This is Nathan Mackinnon’s, long-suffering Phys Ed teacher, greatest bane).

2) Tyson definitely really does hate Gabe. He tells Nate that, over and over again. Partly because he doesn’t trust that anyone can actually be that hot and smart and good a teacher and so loved by the kids and look so good in the shorts he wears when he’s coaching field hockey. He has to be faking all of that. Tyson is sure he is, in fact, because the polite, charming face he puts on around literally everyone else somehow always falls with Tyson.

“Maybe because you’re mean to him too?” Nate suggests, as they sit in the teacher’s lounge eating the brownies Tyson brought in because it was easier to bake than to grade.

Tyson glances over to the table wear Gabe is sitting with some of the other humanities teachers, laughing loudly. “I’m not mean.” Nate raises an eyebrow. “I’m not meaner to him than anyone else,” Tyson amends, because fine, he can be sarcastic, what the fuck ever. Nate’s eyebrow stays up.

Because Tyson doesn’t want to see that judgy eyebrow (Nate really shouldn’t through stones if he’s living in the mean house too), he looks around again, somehow settles on where Gabe is. Gabe’s not laughing anymore, and somehow he looks over at the same time, catches Tyson’s eye. He raises his eyebrows, all dripping condescension. Tyson makes a face back.

“You only prank him.”

“I do not—”

“So, Tyson. I hear your kids are going to Science Olympiad this year.” Tyson doesn’t need to know who’s standing there, because he recognizes the voice, the tone, and also the trim torso, but he looks up anyway. Gabe’s standing there, looking down his aristocratic nose at Tyson. “First time?”

Tyson flushes. He’s proud of his kids for that, it’s a pretty new program and they’ve all been working their asses off. Gabe doesn’t need to say it like that, like he let them down because they didn’t get qualify before. “Yes,” he retorts, trying and probably failing to let that show on his face. “How’s the field hockey team doing?”

It’s a low blow because they all know that it was a pretty devastating loss last week, and one of Tyson’s Olympiad team is on the field hockey team and she’d been in literal tears when they lost, and Tyson had just been getting ready to go over to the bench to maybe say something when Gabe had found her and talked to her until she sniffled and smiled a little. But still. Gabe shouldn’t insult Tyson’s team if he’s not ready to be insulted.

Gabe clearly isn’t ready to be insulted, because he flushes a dull red. “We’re rallying,” he replies, cooly, and reaches down for one of the brownies on the table. Tyson grabs the brownies away.

“These are for people who don’t give my team shit,” he tells Gabe. “No cookies until you can recite the quadratic formula.”

“Then why does Nate get them?” Gabe asks, and Nate makes an offended noise but doesn’t disagree. Gabe grins at Nate, easy and handsome in a way he never is with Tyson.

“That’s the Dogg exception,” Tyson says, and Gabe turns back to Tyson, that smile freezing on his face. It’s fine. Tyson doesn’t care that Gabe never looks at Tyson like that. “It’s a narrow one.”

“Sure it is,” Gabe agrees. He knocks on the table, which should be lame except he somehow manages to pull it off, then heads out of the teacher’s lounge with a wave to Nate. Nate turns to Tyson.

Tyson gestures wildly. “See!”

Nate’s eye roll is probably a risk to his health. “Oh, I see.”

3) (The first time Tyson talks to Gabe, Tyson really was trying to be friendly. They were both new, or so Tyson guessed given that everyone was giving him the ‘hi new kid’ handshake, and Tyson was excited and nervous and wanted to make friends, especially with the hottest guy he’d ever seen. They’d been milling around before the first teacher’s meeting, and Tyson had gone over to Gabe, and held out the Tupperware of chocolate chip cookies he’d made to bribe everyone into liking him. “Cookie?” He’d said.

Gabe had turned around, and he’d given Tyson a look like—it was the look he still gave Tyson, like he wasn’t sure what he was doing there. “I don’t eat cookies,” he’d replied, all snooty, and Tyson had still been willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Seriously, bud?” He’d asked, still smiling so it was clear it was a joke. “How do you survive without a sugar fix? It’s like, my drug. Well, and caffeine, but that doesn’t count.” Gabe still didn’t say anything, so of course Tyson was going to keep talking. “I mean, I can see you don’t eat much sugar, or you’d have to be working out like, an insane amount to look like that, which you clearly do, but not like, as much as you would if you ate as much chocolate as me.”

“Is the sugar why you talk so much?” Gabe had replied, and like, Tyson got it, okay? He knew he talked too much, especially when he was nervous, and said stupid shit and he was trying. Gabe didn’t need to jump down his throat for it.

Tyson had swallowed, and then, “Fine, I’ll go give the sugars to someone who deserves it,” he’d retorted, trying to save face. He left before Gabe could say anything else. But he’d seen Gabe eat a cookie later, in the teacher’s lounge, so. He got the message. And it was on.).

4) Gabe really does hate Tyson. He tells EJ that, and sometimes Nate, and sometimes Mikko. Often his sister. Generally, anyone who will listen.

“Okay, yeah, but you don’t,” EJ informs him. EJ, Gabe thinks, probably has a class to teach, but is instead sitting on Gabe’s desk as Gabe tries to prep for his next class.

“He planted a stink—“

“Have you ever tried being nice to him? Then he might be nice to you.” EJ waggles his eyebrows obnoxiously on the word nice. Gabe is an adult and thus doesn’t blush.

“I’ve tried,” he says, very dignified. “He takes everything I say the wrong way. It’s like he’s willfully misunderstanding me. Yes,” He goes on, before EJ can say what Gabe knows he was going to say, “I heard it, I know, but this is not Pride and Prejudice.”

“But you’d make such a good Darcy,” EJ retorts. “And you want it to be. You can carry him off to your manor and have sex on every surface and to the lake swim thing so he can gape at you as you get out and—“

“I don’t want any of that,” Gabe snaps. He’s only like. 25% lying. “He’s so annoying and so touchy and I don’t—“

“Wow, say what you really feel,” comes a voice from the doorway, and Gabe resists hitting his head to the desk by the skin of his teeth. Every time. Every single time. He just can’t seem to say anything right around Tyson.

“What are you doing here?” He asks. This is the humanities wing of the building, Tyson usually sticks to his lab. Except this time Tyson is standing in his doorway, his arms crossed over his chest in that way that Gabe can’t quite look away from, and scowling. As he usually is, looking at Gabe.

“I was going to find Colin to see if he was coming to drinks tonight. But I guess I’m not wanted around here.” He snorts. “Good. Too many books here anyway.” He smiles, but it’s not the one he gives everyone else, that bright, open thing. “I think I’m allergic.”

“You can’t be allergic to books,” Gabe points out.

“Because you’re the expert on allergies? Did you go out and get an MD along the way?” Tyson asks, snorting.

“And you are the expert?” Gabe retorts. Tyson always does this, pokes at him until it gets Gabe’s back up and he has to snipe back, even if he hadn’t meant to at the beginning. Even though he never means too, at the beginning. At least when he’s irritated he actually knows what he’s saying, though.

“I’m closer than you, I took some bio classes,” Tyson informs him, and looks ready to say more, but then the bell rings, and he glances over his shoulder at the hallways that will be filled with students soon. “I’ll see you later,” he tells EJ. He doesn’t look at Gabe when he leaves.

“See?” Gabe demands of EJ.

EJ smirks. “Oh, I see,” he says, and then yelps as Gabe smacks his arm.

5) (The first time Gabe talked to Tyson, Gabe meant to be friendly. He had been so, so nervous, and trying not to show it—waiting for the questions about why a non-native speaker was teaching English, wanting to impress everyone, wanting to be liked—and then he’d heard “Cookie?” And turned around, and—

Gabe’s smooth, usually. Often. But there was something about his nerves already, and that bug smile and the glint in those brown eyes and the way his shirt hugged the muscles of his arms and Gabe had not been expecting it, the sudden hit of attraction. And…he wasn’t always good, with things he didn’t expect. So he’d stammered something about not eating cookies, because it was the first words his brain put together, and, well. It all went downhill from there.

But if Tyson wanted to bring it. Gabe was going to bring it back.)

6) So everything’s good and they’re only minorly driving Nate crazy and entertaining EJ to no end, and then it’s someone’s brilliant idea to assign them to spearhead the baking sale. (EJ. Tyson is definitely blaming EJ. On principle, and also because he’d utterly failed at keeping it together when Bednar announced it at the staff meeting).

(“But it’s perfect!” Nate says, looking very innocent. “You love to bake and he’s good at the organizational shit.” So maybe Tyson blames Nate too.)

So they have to work together, it seems like, because Tyson’s definitely not going to let their bake sale raise less money than Calgary High, because fuck that shit. So once Gabe stops sneering at him long enough to actually set up a time to meet after school, Tyson really does do his homework. He’s not going to let Gabe show him up either.

Gabe does not show him up, but he does show up to their meeting—at the coffee shop down the street from the school because it’s after school hours and also Tyson’s classroom smelled a little suspicious from a mix up and he wanted to let it air out before he spent a significant amount of time there again—with a to do list. And a chart.

“Wow,” Tyson drawls, when Gabe lays the to do list on the table. “Really leaning into the whole teachers are just nerds who grew up thing, eh?”

“No one says that,” Gabe retorts, rolling his eyes. “And you’re a teacher too.”

Tyson waves a hand. He doesn’t see how either of those things matter. “Yeah, but I’m a cool teacher.” Gabe snorts. “You think you’re cooler than me?”

Gabe raises an eyebrow. He looks, fine, very cool doing it. But that’s just because anyone with that jawline and that hair and those eyes would look cool. It’s not like, inherent to him.  Tyson is cool despite genetics that gave him unruly hair and barely average height and a predilection for babbling. Gabe’s only cool because of genetics.

“Okay, let’s get down to business, defeat the huns and all that,” Tyson says, grabbing the paper. He ignores Gabe’s snort, and glances at it. It’s, fine, a lot of useful things, like figuring out the budget and getting volunteers and coordinating parents. Tyson would have thought of all of it. Definitely. “Okay, but where’s the baking?”

“We’re organizing, we don’t have to contribute,” Gabe replies, like that’s obvious and Tyson should have known it. Which, thanks. Tyson does actually get the distinction. But,

“Yeah, we’re not going to get any teacher to contribute if we don’t,” Tyson informs him. Maybe Gabe should know that. “Like, there’s no way to passive aggressively guilt them into it if we don’t do it too.”

“Maybe they’ll contribute without the guilt,” Gabe says, but Tyson doesn’t both to pretend he doesn’t crack up at that, and Gabe waits a beat, then he starts chuckling too. “Okay, fine, yeah. But I don’t really bake.”

“I’m not doing the baking for both of us,” Tyson warns. He’s not going to be that person in the group project, because fuck that shit.

“You like to bake.”

“Yeah, but not to do other people’s work,” Tyson shoots back. Gabe shakes his head.

“I didn’t—I just…probably shouldn’t bake,” he admits, looking a little shame-faced and a little irritated he has to admit it. Tyson’s not not into the look. “It doesn’t end well or edibly for anyone.”

“You aren’t getting out of it for something like that,” Tyson decides. He is not caving on this.

“So you’d rather poison our students?”

“It can’t be—“

“Ask EJ,” Gabe interrupts, with a dire look on his face. It’s the look of a man who’s Seen Things. Tyson thinks a lot of things about Gabe, but he doens���t think Gabe could fake that.

But he can’t just give in. That would be, well. Giving in. So, “Fine, we’ll bake together. But I’m still not doing everything, you’re going to contribute,” he warns, and Gabe opens his mouth, then closes it again, then opens it. “I know, it’ll be tough to handle each other for that long, but it’s for the kids, Gabriel. Think of the children.”

“Um. Yeah.” Gabe swallows. He must really be dreading it. “If it means you’ll actually pull your organizational weight—”

“Sorry some of us don’t need to color code our flashcards,” Tyson rolls his eyes. He’s not going to let Gabe mess this up. He reads the first article off the to do list. “Okay, budget. All of it too chocolate. Next.” Gabe snorts, like that’s stupid, which, duh. “That was a joke, I didn’t actually mean—“

“I know,” Gabe snaps back. “That’s why I laughed.”

Tyson’s mouth snaps around his next retort. “Oh,” is all he can come up with. Which Gabe takes as a cue to start talking about his budget ideas, which definitely lean too hard into Principal Bednar’s admonition to try to keep it under cost. Tyson can definitely fix that.

7) Gabe is not saying that maybe EJ was right and if he’d just powered through earlier, everything would have been better. He’s definitely not saying that, on principle if nothing else. But—well. It does get easier, the more time he and Tyson are forced to spend together for the bake sale. It’s hard to mess up everything you say to someone when you actually have to have real conversations. He’s definitely made real jokes, not just said something sharp to make up for the fact that he doesn’t know what to say.  

And he thinks—well, Tyson actually smiled at things he said a few times. Maybe it’s hard to misinterpret everything Gabe says when you have a real conversation too.

Or maybe Gabe just looks ridiculous, with flour in his hair and probably some dough on his face and definitely looking like he has no idea what he’s doing. Probably because he doesn’t.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Tyson says, and mercifully takes the whisk away from Gabe. “You really suck at this.”

“No, I just joke about murdering children for fun,” Gabe retorts. He’s maybe pouting a little. He hates looking stupid, and he knows he does now. It’s especially bad in front of Tyson, who will definitely make fun of him for it.

“Look, we don’t yuck anyone’s yums in this house unless I need to report you to the police,” Tyson says, and Gabe chuckles, despite himself. Tyson’s smile flashes, sudden and surprised, and then he ducks his head to go back to whisking. This is the Tyson Gabe’s seen before with other people, quick with a joke and a smile, cutting but not mean-spirited. And, somehow, looking cute with the flour on his nose. And very competent. “Now get back, I think you might set off some electronics if you stay here.”

“I’m not radioactive,” Gabe retorts, but he scoots back to the island so he can watch Tyson bake. It’s safer for all concerned, probably.

“How are you so good at this?” Gabe asks. He’s had Tyson’s baked goods before, generally when Tyson’s not looking so he can’t snatch them away.

“It’s a better addiction than booze or weed,” Tyson says, half-laughing. Gabe rolls his eyes at Tyson’s back, but doesn’t say anything. “Nah, I just—I don’t know, as a kid, whenever I was bummed or whatever, my mom would have me help her bake. It made me feel like I was good at something, you know? And bonus, sweets at the end.” He sets down the bowl, then reaches over to pour what looks like a arbitrary amount of chocolate chips in.

“Then why didn’t you open a bakery or something?”

Tyosn snorts. “Come on, me, run a business? That’s not for me. I’d have to be able to find my head to do that.” The way he says it, it sounds like he’s quoting someone. It also sounds like he believes it.

Gabe must make a sound, because Tyson turns around, looking at him. “What? You know it’s true,” he says, and his lips twist, just a little. “You say it enough.”

“That’s not—“ he hadn’t known it had hit a nerve, Gabe doesn’t know how to say. He hadn’t known that Tyson actually believed it.

“It’s okay, I’ve got other skills. Like making sick baked goods. And, you know, teaching kids. Chem’s just advanced baking you can’t eat. Well, shouldn’t eat.” Tyson reaches for some Saran Wrap in a cabinet. Gabe takes the opportunity to reach in and grab some dough.

“Hey! No touching.” Tyson spins, glares. “If you’re going to eat cookie dough, use a spoon. And wait till I add the Nutella, that’s when it gets really good.”

Gabe shrugs. “It’s really good now.” He tries to put his words together, make sure they can’t be misunderstood. That he’s not accidentally poking sore spots. “I’d buy it, if you had decided to go that route.”

Tyson glances away, his cheeks stained red. “I thought you didn’t like my baking,” Tyson says, all in a rush.

“What?”

Tyson looks back up at Gabe, rolls his eyes. “You don’t eat cookies, remember?”

“What are you talking about, Tyson?”

Tyson covers the bowl carefully. “Never mind. Nothing.”

“Tyson—“

“So I think I have a task you can manage,” Tyson interrupts, loudly. “Can you put this in the fridge? I cleared a space and everything. I know it’ll really be taxing you, but I have faith.”

“Wow, thanks,” Gabe drawls, and lets it go.

8) Tyson’s just finishing up his junior lab when he hears the door open. He’d generally ignore it—these aren’t the kids he’s worried about sneaking out or whatever, these are his AP kids—but then the whispers start, spreading from the door closer to the front. He is, in the end, unsurprised to see Gabe standing near the door, looking a little sheepish and of course, unnecessarily attractive.

“Hold on a sec, then we’ll get to the good stuff,” he tells everyone, then goes over to Gabe. The whispers definitely follow him. It’s not like he doesn’t know what the kids say about him and Gabe; they’re definitely all waiting for something to blow up. Well, something other than the experiment he’d been setting up. “What’s up?”

“Sorry, I thought you’d be done with class.”

Tyson glances at the clock, and, yep, oh shit. He hadn’t heard the bell. “Shit,” he mutters, too quietly for anyone other than Gabe to hear, then turns to the class. “Okay, looks like we went long. You guys can go, or you can wait a couple minutes and see what I’ve got for you. No harm no foul either way.”

A few of the kids start to pack up, but most of them stay, Tyson notes with no little bit of pride. He glances at Gabe, to see if he noticed. The kids can like him, too.

Gabe doesn’t look particularly impressed, but he doesn’t look surprised, either. He’s also just looking at Tyson.

“So is it urgent, or can it wait?” Tyson asks. Gabe blinks, like now he is surprised.

“No, I just wanted to go over some last minute things before tomorrow. It can wait.”

“Okay, cool. Stick around if you want, we’re going to blow shit up.” Gabe barks out a laugh, which gets another line of whispers down the tables.

“Sounds like fun,” Gabe says. It’s--careful? Nice? Tyson’s not sure. He thinks Gabe might be plotting something, it’s the only explanation for why Gabe’s been…easier, lately. Like, sure, they can’t fight constantly if they have to work together, Gabe has to let him do some things, but it’s…Tyson doesn’t know. Less condescending. Gabe smiles more. Laughs with him, not at him.

It makes it harder for Tyson to be on his guard, which is what makes him sure it’s a trick. Tyson knows how to be ready against Gabe’s barbs and patronizing sneers. He hadn’t been ready for his smiles. But Tyson’s strong, he’s not going to be taken in.

And right now, he needs to blow something up, so. “Okay, let’s get to it,” He says, and they do. Gabe hovers in the back as Tyson explains what he’s doing, the science behind it, then vamps a bit because he likes the drama. Everyone is appropriately impressed by the bang and multicolored smoke that comes out of the beaker, because Tyson knows how to impress an audience if nothing else, then the rest of the kids start to pack up and Gabe comes up to the front table, leans against the counter.

Tyson pushes up his safety glasses onto his forehead. Gabe snorts.

“What?” Tyson demands. “You thought that was cool, don’t front.”

“You look like a mad scientist,” Gabe informs him.

“Okay, stereotype of every hipster Lit teacher ever,” Tyson retorts, reaching up to try to smooth out his hair. “I am responsible enough to teach good lab safety.”

“I know,” Gabe says, which isn’t on script. Tyson blinks.  “It’s cute.” He reaches out to tap the glasses.

Tyson can feel himself go red. So what, a hot guy is complimenting him. It’s definitely part of a nefarious plan, but he’s only human. He has to take his ‘being complimented by guys who look like Gabe’ where he can find them.

“Whatever,” Tyson mutters, then rallies. “What do you want, anyway? This is a long way from home for you.”

“I told you, I wanted to go over some last minutes changes facilities wants.” He pulls out another one of his ridiculous printed lists.

“Okay, Landesnerd,” he says, and smirks at Gabe’s rolled eyes at the nickname. “Hit me.”

9) The bake sale is going great, if Gabe does say so himself. They managed to get plenty of teachers to participate as well as parents (not guilting, thank you Tyson, Gabe is sure), and there’s plenty of buyers. They’re going to raise a lot of money, and Bednar is definitely happy with them, given his expression as he and his wife browse the offerings.

“So you survived it?” EJ asks, sidling up to Gabe. He has a brownie in one hand and a cookie in the other. He’d been one of the people Tyson had not-guilted into contributing, so Gabe’s not sure who’s watching his booth, but that’s not Gabe’s problem anymore. “Working with Tys?”

“Somehow.” Gabe looks over to where Tyson is manning their booth. He’s laughing with one of the moms, clearly on some sort of selling spiel. He’s managed to get chocolate on his shirt. Of course.

“And you still hate him?” EJ asks. He doesn’t manage to sound very innocent. Or anything but smug.

Gabe’s not an idiot, thank you very much. And Tyson looks over, sees him watching, and grins, that big open grin like he’d had the first day they met, and it’s still just as cute as it was then.

“Shut up,” he tells EJ, and goes to sell some baked goods.

10) “So we rocked that,” Tyson informs Gabe, when everything’s all done and packed up. “Definitely beat Calgary.”

“Yeah,” Gabe agrees. He sounds a little distracted, though, which is unusual for him—he was definitely on the ‘crush Calgary’ team. Tyson wipes at his mouth, because whatever’s distracting Gabe seems to be in his general face region.

“Um, earth to Gabriel? We kicked ass? Our cookies were the star of the show? Or they’re really mine, but. You can have some credit,” He allows. He’s ready to keep talking, but then Gabe blinks.

“Come with me.”

“What?”

“Come on,” Gabe says, decisively, and he starts towing Tyson down the hall with a hand on Tyson’s wrist. Tyson sort of has to follow.

“Gabe, what are you doing? Is this part of your plot? Where you take me away and murder me?” They get to Gabe’s classroom, and he tugs Tyson in, then shuts the door. “Nate has find my friends with me, he’ll be able to find me, and he totally knows it’d be you, I—”

Then Gabe takes a step forward, so Tyson’s back is to the door, and Tyson’s mouth snaps shut. “Gabe?” He asks. He doesn’t—this is off script too. Gabe’s too close to him, all—stupidly handsome and big and his lips are like, right there, Tyson doesn’t know—

“Fuck, Tys,” Gabe mutters, then he is definitely kissing Tyson. That is a thing. That is happening. He has a hand on Tyson’s neck and the other one on the door behind Tyson and he’s an irritatingly good kisser and Tyson can’t just let that stand, so clearly he has to kiss back, show Gabe that he’s not the only one with game around here.

He doesn’t concede defeat, but he definitely does end up sagged against the wall—not because his knees give out or anything, just because the wall is conveniently there. “Oh,” he says vaguely, as Gabe continues to press kisses to his jaw, “So this is your plan?”

“What plan?” Gabe asks, and kisses Tyson again, deep and maybe a little knee-melting.

“I don’t know,” Tyson comes up with, “It’s you plan. Whatever—plan you’re doing by being nice and friendly for a change. And kissing me.”

Gabe’s head drops onto Tyson’s shoulder for a second, which is a shame because it means he’s not kissing Tyson. That should change.

Then Gabe lifts his head. “It’s not an evil plan,” he says, sounding a little exasperated. “I just want to kiss you. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Um, yeah? You don’t like me.”

“You don’t like me,” Gabe corrects, and Tyson manages to roll his eyes even now.

“No, you definitely don’t like me. You were a dick to me when we met, and—“

“I was—when we met I was already nervous and then a cute guy started talking to me about his cookies and I blanked and said something that he misinterpreted,” Gabe retorts, definitely sounding exasperated now, but also—incredulous, maybe? “For the first but not the last time.”

“I—what?” That is very very off script. That isn’t—they hate each other. Right? “You didn’t eat my cookie.”

“I honestly don’t remember what I said,” Gabe laughs, a little, but doesn’t meet Tyson’s eyes. “I was—it was a lot.”

“You thought I was cute?” Tyson’s only just now hearing this. “You said—you said I talk too much.” He mutters that last part. It was a shitty thing to say, but maybe Tyson’s too sensitive, maybe—

“No, I kiss people I find really unattractive,” Gabe says, and then he does look up, meets Tyson’s gaze with those big determined baby blues. “And you do talk a lot of shit, Tys.” He keeps going before Tyson can reply to that. “It’s cute too.”

“I—what?” No one’s said that before, for sure. Even Nate like, just puts up with his babble.

Gabe groans. “Can I kiss you again?” He asks. “And then take you to dinner and work on convincing you not to hate me?”

Well. Put that way. “I suppose I can allow that,” Tyson says. He doesn’t say how he’s pretty sure that’s not going to be much of a job, any more. Instead, he tugs Gabe in to kiss him again.

11) The Great Rivalry ends, as all things must.

However, tales of the Great Romance is spread in whispers around the school. Apparently, it’s just as easy to distract Mr. Barrie by asking him about Mr. Landeskog’s dog, and to distract Mr. Landeskog by talking about Mr. Barrie’s latest antics. You can’t really get more details out of them, though sometimes if you’re around after school, you can see them working together in one of their classrooms, arguing about something with their feet hooked together under the table.

(You can still get Mr. Landeskog going about the stink bomb, though. That one’s always going to be a classic).

(They are still just as annoying to Coach Mac. But he guesses he can be happy for his friends too). 

[harley-sunday]

The Draw (09)

Summary: The whirlwind starts at the 2018 ACE Comic Con in Phoenix but you’re not sure where it will end...

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader

Warnings: Language.

Word count: 2653

AN: This one’s beautiful and sad and not really suited for Valentine’s Day but I hope you like it anyway. Let me know what you think :) I don’t have a taglist, but if you follow Harley Sunday x Sebastian Stan you should see any update I post.

Masterlist

You whisper something about knowing the perfect spot for ‘Tomorrow’ then and hurry to your feet, leaving a stunned Sebastian behind. Of course it’s just a bullshit excuse but at least it gives you a moment alone so you can try to make sense of everything that has happened in the last two hours. So far you’re failing miserably though and you feel bad for running out on Sebastian like that, so you actually do what you set out to do in attempt to make you feel better.

“There,” you say to no one in particular once you’ve rearranged the frames on the shelf that’s in between the two big windows in the hall, allowing them to accommodate your newest addition. You take a step back, wanting to admire the new set up, when you bump into Sebastian, who must have followed you here.

His hand is on the small of your back then, keeping you from stumbling backwards any further, his mouth close to your ear, “Careful,”

You nod, trying to ignore the heat that seems to be radiating from where he’s touching you, instead focusing on the painting again, trying to decide if you like the way it’s displayed, when he drops his hand and you have to fight the urge to grab it and put it back.

“I get it,” he says quietly.

You turn to him and find him staring at the painting, a smile playing on his lips.

“When I went to pick it up at the art gallery and the girl showed it to me,” he shakes his head and chuckles, “it really did put a smile on my face. Just like you said it would.” He must anticipate your question before you even have a chance to ask it and continues, “I found the card on the desk in your hotel room and I don’t know,” he shrugs, running a hand through his hair, “I remembered how happy you were when you were talking about it and I just want you to feel like that every day.”

“Thank you.” It comes out barely a whisper and you actually open your mouth to say more but then your mind’s racing again, a million questions popping into your head and you don’t know really know how or where to start.

The silence is deafening for a moment before Sebastian breaks it with a soft, “Where’s your head at?”

You shake your head, trying to gather your thoughts before you answer. “I think we need to talk.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I think we do.”

Putting the inevitable off a little longer you busy yourself making a fresh brew of coffee after you’ve asked him if he’d like another round, your back to him as you will the machine to go slower and slower and slower. It doesn’t of course, and so you turn around sooner than you want, handing him what seems to be his cup now, his fingers brushing your hand as he takes it from you. You lean against the counter, hugging your own cup of coffee close to your chest. You wonder if you should move things to the living room, or even sit down at the dining table, but then figure the kitchen is as good a place as any to have this conversation.

There’s not a lot of space between the two of you, with him leaning against the counter opposite to you, and your gaze drops to your feet, his just inches away from yours, and you can’t help but smile when you see you’re both wearing black Converse, even though yours are little worse for wear.

“Hey,” he toes your shoe with his then, making you look up at him, and he smiles, simply stating “I like you.”

“And I like you,” you admit easily.

“But?” he says at the same time as you do.

“But,” you reply, “I just can’t do this right now.” You drop your gaze back to your feet, his shoe still touching yours, “Don’t get me wrong, Los Angeles was amazing and I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done, but,” you take a moment to gather your thoughts, “it’s just, with Nathan in the hospital and Jake being here, I don’t know, it would feel like my focus isn’t on them right now, you know? And I don’t want to half-ass things with you either, but it feels like it has to be one or the other.” You all but slam your cup down on the counter out of frustration and run your hands over your face before you continue, “I feel like maybe if we had more time before all this happened it would be easier. I mean, I know that probably doesn’t make any sense-”

“It kind of does,” he says so quietly that you doubt you’ve even heard him right but then he pushes himself off the counter and gently places his pointer finger under your chin, making you look up at him, “It’s ok.”

You just shake your head, not trusting your own voice.

“It is,” he counters, a sad smile on his lips, dropping his hand, “Maybe I shouldn’t have come here-”

“Sebastian,”

“No, hear me out, ok?” He smiles then, “It’s my turn now,” but the sentiment doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I get it, and honestly, I agree. I think it would have been easier if we’d known each other longer, but,” he shrugs, “it is what is, you know? And the truth is I really like you and I really wanted to see you again but the reason I couldn’t wait any longer is ‘cause I’m leaving tomorrow. We’re doing press in Europe and Asia for the next two weeks.”

“Oh,”

He rubs his neck, his eyes never even leaving yours, “I just wanted to know if we were good and maybe see if there’s a future for us,” a sad smile on his lips now, “I think maybe I should have given you some space, because if anything I just made this harder.”

“So we could have this conversation two weeks from now?” You hate the way it comes out as an accusation and so you make sure your voice is softer when you say, “Maybe this just isn’t meant to be,”

“But we never even tried,” he counters.

“I know,” you whisper, and your heart, oh your heart breaks when you continue, “but I really can’t right now.”

Your text to Lauren is short.

911

“Babe?”

You want to call out to her but just hearing her voice brings on a fresh set of tears.

She must have heard you though, because she pretty much runs up the stairs and is kneeling in front of you mere seconds later. She takes one of your hands in hers, the other gently wiping away your tears, her eyes filled with worry.

“Where’s Jake?” you manage in between sobs, not wanting your nephew to see you like this.

She smiles one of her reassuring smiles, “I dropped him off at the hospital with your parents and asked if they could take him tonight, told them you had food poisoning from some takeout we ordered after we took Jake to McDonald's.” She laughs then, “Told Jake I would buy him his body weight in ice cream if he doesn’t tell anyone about your unexpected visitor. Oh, and Nathan says hi, by the way.”

You nod, because honestly it’s one less thing to worry about.

Lauren stands up then and motions for you to scoot over before she lies down next to you, both of you on your backs, eyes trained on the ceiling, her hand still holding yours as she gives it a gentle squeeze, “Talk to me.”

She doesn’t look at you and somehow that makes it easier to tell her what happened after she and Jake left, ending your story with a sob, “And then he left.”

“Babe,”

“No Laur,” you interrupt her, not wanting her sympathy right now, because you’re not sad, not really anyway. You’re just mad. “I fucked up, ok? He basically tells me that he wants to give us a try and what do I do? I fucking tell him that I can’t right now.” You scoff, “Who does that?”

She lets go of your hand then and sits up, turning around so she’s facing you, her legs crossed in front of her. She flicks your upper arm, “First of all, that wasn’t a sympathetic ‘Babe’ and I am offended that you would even think so, so I’ll try again,” she clears her throat, “Babe,” the accusatory tone much clearer now.

You can’t help but smile through your tears, “Noted.”

“Second of all,” she continues without missing a beat, “to answer your question: only an idiot would do that and you, my dear, are just that.” She puts her hand over your mouth when you start to protest, “Ah, ah, ah, let me finish.”

She looks at you, one eyebrow raised and you nod to let her know you won’t interrupt her.

“Let me see if I can make this clear to you,” she starts, removing her hand so she can take yours in hers again. “He shows up here, unannounced, because not only did he buy you that ridiculous colorful painting you wouldn’t stop talking about, because let’s be real, that was just an excuse to see you again, he also knows there are some things you two need to talk about after that whirlwind romance in Los Angeles-”

“I wouldn’t call it a romance per se,” you mutter, but the way she looks at you then shuts you up almost instantly.

“And you do, I mean, you talk right? Lauren continues, unfazed by your comment. “But then you tell him you don’t know how he fits into your life right now, and even though he tells you he wants to go for it anyway, you give him some bullshit reason as to why you can’t and then you fucking let him leave without so much as a kiss goodbye.” She shakes her head, “You really did fuck up and you really are an idiot.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” you deadpan, throwing her an irritated look. “I believe I reached that conclusion all on my own a couple of minutes ago.”

“I know,” she shrugs with a halfhearted grin, “I just wanted to rub it in.”

“I call bullshit,” you say, because you know it’s not true. If anything she just wants you to understand how ridiculous you’ve been. Which is working, by the way.   

“Yeah, ok,” she agrees quietly, dropping her smile, “but I still can’t believe you let this happen.”

“I know,”

“He wanted to try,”

“I know,”

“Jesus, I was rooting for you two so hard,”

“I know,”

“Will you stop saying that and help me figure out how you can fix this!”

“I-” you start, but not sure what to say next so the word just hangs in the air.

“You do want to fix this, right?” Lauren asks, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion when you don’t answer immediately.

You sigh. “I just don’t want to put my life on hold again-”

“Jesus!” She throws her hands in the air before she jabs her finger at you, “Nobody ever said anything about you having to put your life on hold, especially not him. But hey, if you want to come up with some more lame ass excuses as to why you shouldn’t just go for it, you can do that without me, because I’m done.”

“Laur,” you watch her as she gets up off the bed and so you push yourself into a seated position, not wanting her to leave.

“No!” she spits, her eyes blazing. She points at you, “Enough with this already! I know, ok? I know Mark was an asshole, I know that the three years you spent with him made you feel like you were stuck in a life you never wanted and I know how much he hurt you while you were together. I was there to pick up the pieces every goddamn time, remember? But he is not Mark! Fuck, Mark never even got you so much as flowers for your birthday and here we have Sebastian, buying you a painting because you once mentioned to him how much you love it.” 

She lets out a frustrated groan. “You need to realize that you are not the same person anymore and that it’s ok to be happy. And it’s ok to let Sebastian be the one that makes you happy. And that yes, the timing sucks, what with Nathan in the hospital, and Sebastian having to leave for Europe, but if not now then when, babe?” She takes a deep breath before she continues,”Is it going to be hard? Fuck yeah it is. Are there going to be times when you wish he wasn’t a famous actor? More often than not, probably. But you don’t get to worry about this now, because all you need to do is live in the fucking moment, babe, and go make this right. Do it now or forever wish you had!”

“You and your fucking Hairspray quotes,” you groan, letting yourself fall back on the bed with a dramatic sigh.

She jumps on top of you then, straddling you, “Jesus! You suck, you know that? I give you, maybe the greatest motivational speech of our lives and all you take away from it is that?” She pins your arms down, her face hovering over yours closely, her eyes narrowed, “You are beyond help, my dear.”

“But I love you,” you counter with a grin, blowing her a kiss, already feeling a little bit better.

Just as you step out of the shower that Lauren has all but shoved you into, you hear her talking to the one person you know can help you with making things right.

“Hi, it’s Lauren,” you hear her say with her most cheery voice. “You probably don’t know me, but I’m (Y/N)’s best friend and well, we have a bit of a situation here.” She explains then, how Sebastian showed up here and how you fucked up.

You groan at her honesty and can only imagine the response on the other end when you hear her agree, “Hmm, I know right?”

You decide to ignore her while you carefully apply your makeup before you loosely braid your hair.

She finishes the conversation just as you walk into your bedroom and you hear her say goodbye, “Thank you so much, Julie. I’ll definitely keep you updated,” before she turns to you with a shit-eating grin. “Ok, he’s staying at The Ritz until tomorrow, here’s his room number,” she says, handing you a piece of paper, “and Julie’s calling him right now, telling him there’s something being delivered to his room that he needs to take with him on the press tour, so he’ll be there.”

You throw your arms around her and hug her tight, “Thank you.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, as you ride the elevator up the to seventeenth floor, eyeing yourself in the mirror. The striped a-line skirt you’re wearing hits just below your knee, the black top you’ve paired it with is simple but elegant and the black pumps Lauren insisted you’d wear finish off the look perfectly. You hesitate just for a second when the doors open, but then you nod at your reflection in the mirror before you straighten your back and walk out, following the signs to his room.

You knock and wait for him to open the door. When he does you can feel your heart skip a beat and you quietly curse yourself for letting him go this afternoon.

“Hi,” you say, looking at him with from underneath your lashes, your hands holding on to your clutch, “Can I come in?”

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

In and out (Part 2) (Nathan Drake x Male Reader)

Description: There was a deal between Elena and Nathan to make her way to Yemen for managing to get them to the city. But plans don't go so easily as they should. Well, isn't that pretty common thing for Nathan & Co.™?

Based on the request from @march-moon

A/N: So we’re establishing the relationships between our main characters, getting to know them (like I know you know Nate the Pure Boi™ and Sully the Womanizer™), and so on. Enjoy! Also, their song will most probably be I’m your man from Leonard Cohen. (Youll see whose song I'm talking about, especially you, @missdictatorme ) 

Warnings: None really, just some my adding to adjust the story and making Sully a caring old man. And it looks like it will be a slow-burn fanfiction. Sorry! 

Word count: 1 884 (+/-)

They walked into the airport in a rushed pace, their eyes were almost burning by the light of evening sun which was getting low. Sully couldn't be concentrated for one minute straight, thinking only about their friends being in danger. He was constantly nervous about it.

And Drake smiled when he saw the woman who he and Sully were talking about. It felt relieving that he didn't lie to Sully and she was truly alright. She has clothed some nice jeans and a clean sweater, her hair was loosely held in a black clip and her face looked straight murderous. She was sick worried for both of them, almost broke in tears on the airport when they weren't answering her calls. They got lost the track of time in there and Sully’s phone broke. 

But now she saw them alive and she seriously thanked God for seeing them.

"Where were you?" She whisper-yelled at them in her nice voice, coming to hug them and help them with the beverage. Her name was Florence, but Nathan rather called her Carter, and she was one of them.

For Nathan it was just a friend who could kick ass pretty well and who laughed at his stupid jokes, she even shared his love for archeology, but she was so much more for Sullivan. Not like they were in an openly well-known relationship, but it was quite some time ago since Sully proposed to her. To be quite honest, Nathan had the suspicion that she made him propose because Sully wasn't exactly the family-life or commitment man. Their history was a bit... Complicated, per se, but it always felt somehow good to see them back by each others' side.

They had huge ups and downs in the last few years, and they even broke up for two years, getting back together just shortly after they came back from the Himalayas last year. Especially hard it was when Sully just disappeared with Nathan for a few months all of a sudden without even letting her know to Greece-or-where-the-fuck-did-you-two-assholes-go (as she called it).

'Ya know Nate, there's something about that girl that just makes me twirl inside,' Sullivan always said to Nathan when he got the news of them putting it back together.

It all started in 1996 when Florence and Sullivan meeting on Cuba. He was forty-six at that time and to be honest, Nathan had to admit that he was a real hit with the ladies around that time - but she was only twenty-one at that time and unbelievably, they put it together only a year after that. And since then, they somehow managed to stay together... Let's put it that way.

She tolerated all his ailments as well as he managed to keep her nature under control. They were never directly explicit about their relationship, they didn't hold hands in public or kiss each other in front anyone much often - the biggest reason for that was their seriously huge age gap, but there were looks and sparks in their eyes when they were talking about each other or when they were around each other. When Sullivan spoke about her and Nate, he always said:

“These two are the worst catastrophes that stumbled into my life and both of them had the best outcomes that changed my life eternally. I never wanted a fiancé or someone, who will be a son to me and yet I got them.” 

"I almost went mad from fear," Florence bumped her head in Sullivan's shoulder as she put his hand oh the back of her neck. "I'm so glad that you're all right, big guy," Flo smiled firmly and circled her arms around Sully's neck, while he bumped with his forehead to hers lightly, smoothing her cheek with his thumb. "Sugar," Sullivan answered with a low and firm voice and Flo made a step backward from him.

She hugged Nathan too, but that hug was faster and lighter than Sully's hug.

"Thought they took you as hostages. Were you two trying to get killed again?" Florence started to calm down and joked around in an unsure voice, taking Nate's bag and following Sully to their seats which Florence took by the rest of their beverages.

Nate was still fascinated by how that woman could lift spirits to his best friend so easily, just by being present somewhere near him. Even if he looked pretty calm down, he still frowned a little, because of the fear for Frazer and Cutter.

"Don't say that you were worried about two big hunks like us," Nate answered with a childish tone and she managed to give him a gentle punch to the shoulder.

"Don't let her lure you into her lies, she wasn't afraid, she was just happy that no one will irritate her anymore," Sully warned him and Florence laughed at that, finally getting back in the mood. But Drake looked kinda scared. "Hey, if you don't want to have a dinner today, just continue. I want to eat, so I'll say that she would definitely kick some arses on a way to our rescue. If necessary, of course." He put a hand on his heart with a serious expression on his face.

"You are an incredible social ranking climber, Drake," Florence threw him a cold burrito wrapped in cellophane. Flo also got one for Sully, giving him the burrito and a bottle of coke directly to the hands. 

“About that gig,” Nathan touched his bum and pulled a little diary out of his pocket. He handed it to Florence and suggested to her, which page she should open. And when she opened it, she just opened up her mouth and looked at both of them with a surprise in her face.

“Are you two kidding me right now?” Florence said and her voice went up and down as the voice of a boy going through puberty. “You actually found something in there?"

“We do know, in fact.” Nate agreed, but Florence ignored him completely. She was so excited that she actually quit noticing reality even at the slightest. 

“She has her own little Christmas right now. Let her be, she calms down eventually.” Sully whispered to Nathan in a low voice, but he was smiling at the sight of her fiancé being so happy.

“It’s next clue, some sort of amulet I would presume!” Florence whispered to herself as Nathan sat on his arse on of the airport seat, slowly eating his burrito.

“Do you think that she’ll,” Nathan looked at Sully with a question in his eyes. He was curious about Florence lecturing them about things they already knew. And just as he looked at Sully, Florence turned to them with a look of a small child in her eyes. “And here we go,” Nate whispered as he listened to every word Florence said. 

She was pretty right about everything she said and Nate with Sully just slowly nodded their heads in the rhythm of her speech. Nathan sorta saw what Sully liked about her so much - it wasn’t her big brown eyes or curly ginger hair, no. It was her personality. She managed to stay optimistic at most of the times and she could be seriously stubborn sometimes, and Nathan knew that her stubbornness is what she got Sully on. 

He was a huge ladies man before he met Florence or tried his luck with Maggie during their break up, Sully spent every one of his nights with a different lady. And that was the problem, they went directly to the bed and not offering him to fight for it. When Nate met him, he was on the top of his strengths and he was a definite womanizer.

And one day Sully just came to the flat they were living in with a huge smile on his lips, talking about some pretty pert girl in the museum they were doing research in. And she seriously made him fighting for even a drop of her affection, Florence sometimes did that till that day when she got mad at Sully. And his adoration for her was seriously infinite because of that.

“... So that’s why I find it so fascinating, boys.” She finally finished her speech and went to take a bite of Sully’s burrito. 

“You had your own, missy,” Sullivan warned her as she gently put her fingertip on his own hand and took a huge bite. Florence almost ate half of Sully’s burrito.

“But it’s so good.” She moaned. Nathan just looked their direction with a disgusted and confused look on his face. She frowned to his direction and she looked seriously murderous. “What's your problem, Drake? We're talking about the burrito you pervert.” 

“And I don’t doubt that Florence,” Nate answered innocently, but something on Victors amused look told him that she’s probably lying. But what should he do about that? “Not at all.” 

His motto, expect Greatness from small beggings, was Live and let live. This situation was in fact seriously ideal, just partially fucked up as they were used to. Everyone was safe and sound, everyone was alive at that point and they were together. And Nathan had to be true; he had cheesier pickup lines than Flo had. 

And so they joked there around an hour, waiting for their airplane to Syria. They stood under the sun which was getting lower and lower and watched the stars which started to show up above the plane. It was so beautiful because they were at the end of the world in France, on a small airport distant at least two kilometers away from the city. 

Sully started to showing Florence the stars as countless times before to keep her entertained and to keep her from thinking about Cutter and Chloe who they were about to save of at least to find if they weren't in any sort of danger.

When the plane finally took off, Nate assumed that he better get some sleep even though the people were seriously watching them with a curiousness written in their faces. They smelled pretty bad and they had the dirtiest clothes on them, so people assumed that they’ve done something pretty wild. 

They had three seats, one next to the other, and Florence sat in the middle, letting Sully put a pillow on her shoulder to get some sleep too. And when Nathan started to slowly fall asleep, he heard Sully and Florence bickering about her engagement ring. 

“Why don’t you still wear it, honey? I'm back for almost half a year and haven't seen it once on your hand.” Sully asked in a low raspy voice and Nate heard that he's about to fall asleep too. He saw their hands entwined in almost secretive was just as if they were afraid of the judging that could come anytime and from anyone.

“Because of I'm afraid that I’ll break it or lose it and I just think that you would not buy me a new one, would you Victor?” Florence laughed back, smoothing his sweaty jaw. 

“I will buy you every ring on this goddamn planet if you promise me that you'll stay safe.” He promised and with that, they went completely silent, slowly entering the realm of dreams together. 

[gointothevvater]

Say hello to the night

Chapter one

Chapter summary:

The clerk, whose nametag read Will said, "Might wanna schleep with one eye open."

Story Summary:

Santa Luna was far from Tampa, far from his parents and far from Abigail, but it was also far from what Nathan had expected. The hotel where he was staying was nice enough, but the people were strange, wild-eyed and watching him like he was prey.

Nathan Explosion is not the type to let himself become prey, but one feral-looking redhead might change that, and Nathan might even go willingly.

A Lost Boys AU, set in the 80s, but with far more horror than the movie. It's gonna be brutal ♥

Tags:

The Lost Boys AU, vampires, 80s AU, teen angst

Read from the beginning!

Or read this chapter here!

The moon was high and full and red over Santa Luna, California when Nathan rode into town in his shitty old truck.

A blood moon? Brutal. This was the night he'd stop, then. This was his destination. It felt like fate.

The town wasn't an especially big one, far, far smaller than Tampa, but it was far from his family, and it was far from Abigail, and that was what mattered.

The streets were busy, and it took a few minutes for Nathan to find a motel. Hotel California played in his head when he parked the truck in the mostly-empty parking lot, and when he stepped out of it, closing the door behind him, the heat of the summer night hit him hard. It was almost as bad as Florida. He could survive it. If he could survive Abigail ripping his heart out of his chest, he reasoned as he stepped into the motel's little office, he could survive anything.

As he was entering, another man was leaving. He was dressed in an impeccable suit, his hair long and silver, his hands clawed, and as he passed Nathan, he gave him a look that could cut glass. Nathan returned it, but was oddly grateful when he slipped out the door.

A young man nearly his own age sat behind the check-in desk, sneering and giving the silver-haired man not one but two middle fingers. He muttered, "Fucking bloodschucker." Then he looked at Nathan and asked, his tone none the nicer, "Checking in?"

Nathan grunted an affirmation, then asked, "There any jobs around here?"

"Nothing legal," the desk clerk said with a curl of his lightly fuzzed lip. He had a copy of Playboy open on the desk, but he didn't seem particularly interested in it. "Payment for the night is upfront," he said without looking up. He jerked a thumb toward a sign tacked up on the wall behind him that displayed prices for lengths of stay. "Checkout is at 11 a.m."

Nathan had enough to stay for a few weeks, and he pulled out his wallet to fish out the bills, handing them over with a pang of regret. His funds were rather limited, and he'd need to get a job before long. He wondered if any of the local bars would let someone who was only nineteen perform. He had a good voice for heavier music. "Probably gonna be here a while," he said to no one in particular. He was a little out of it, honestly. He'd been sleeping in the back seat of the truck for almost a week, and not even well. He was exhausted, and he was sure it showed.

The clerk, whose nametag read Will said, "Might wanna schleep with one eye open."

Brutal, Nathan thought again, and took the room key when Will offered it.

"Room seven," Will said, still not looking up. "Good luck."

Well, that was ominous. Nathan shrugged it off and headed back outside, the humid air hitting him like a wall. He wondered if his truck would be safe for the night. His whole life was in it. He'd locked it up, and the bed cover was pretty secure. The only thing worth stealing was his dirt bike, anyway. It was a 1984 Yamaha YZ490, which he had spray-painted black the day he brought it home. It was five years old, but it still ran well. He'd spent almost a year saving up for the thing, and it was his most precious possession. It currently lay on its side in the bed of the truck. Nathan patted the bed cover and unlocked the driver's side door, darting in to grab one of the suitcases he had left in the back seat. He locked the door, double-checked that it was locked, and set off down along the front of the motel.

He followed the doors until he reached the seventh one, unlocked it, and stepped inside. The floors were beige-carpeted, but the bedspreads were green, and they looked clean, the pillows, too. At the far side of the room was the door leading into the connected bathroom, but Nathan wasn't ready to check that out just yet. It wasn't terrible; He'd certainly stayed in worse places. He took a seat on the bed, bounced a bit. It would do. He pulled his suitcase into his lap and popped the latches. Inside were a few sets of both day clothes and pajamas, his most beloved CDs, which were of no use with his boom box in the truck's passenger seat, and his address book. It was mostly empty, but his parents were listed in there, and come morning, he would need to call them. He wouldn't call Abigail, he told himself, but he wasn't sure if he believed it or not. He sighed and flopped back on the bed, the suitcase bouncing on his legs.

Well, he thought, this sucks.

His neighbors were having a much better time than he was, if the woman's near-constant screams were any indication. Her cries of, "Oh, yes!," and, "Harder!" Did nothing for him, and he swallowed down a wave of self-hatred.

The woman on the other sound of the wall quieted, her voice dropping into a little whimpering noise, and Nathan thought back to the sounds Abigail made when he kissed her. They'd never gone any farther than that, though he knew she wanted to. Did he? He still wasn't sure. He'd hoped that putting some distance between them would help to clear his head, but he was still so confused.

He flinched when the woman next door screamed. Oh, a screamer. Wonderful.

She sounded like she was being murdered, and Nathan rolled his eyes. So much for a quiet night in.

He closed his suitcase and tossed it aside on the bed, rose, and stepped outside. He gave the neighbor's door an irritable bang as he passed. The woman tried to say something, but choked on the words, and Nathan scowled.

There was a great shuffling sound inside, and Nathan bristled, ready for a fight. The doorknob jiggled, and a man slipped out. He was taller than Nathan, which was honestly impressive, and about a decade older, if the streaks of silver in his hair and his beard were any indication. He had one dead eye, and Nathan met it as best he could. He wouldn't be intimidated by whoever this asshole thought he was.

The only reward he got for his effort was a snarl and the kind of glare that could have gotten a weaker man on his knees. Nathan would not go to his knees, but it took a huge amount of discipline to resist the urge.

Without a word, the man strode away, and Nathan watched him vanish around the side of the manager's office. The air was charged and hot, but he shivered, doing his best to ignore the coppery smell emanating from behind the door of room six.

[w-ilkinson]

  2. Are you outgoing or shy? bit of both 3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? my best fwend alicia 4. Are you easy to get along with? yass 5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? dont fancy anyone 8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind? no one :) 9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? nope 10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? georgie 11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? legend, thank you x 12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now? running - abi ocia, terraform - novo amor, fall into my arms - ngaiire, my salty jente- easy giants, you sexy thing - the ruminators  13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? love it 14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? yehhhp 15. What good thing happened this summer? mmmm found a new house to move into ha 16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? eh hes a dick so no 17. Do you think there is life on other planets? yess 18. Do you still talk to your first crush? no hah 19. Do you like bubble baths? love em 20. Do you like your neighbors? dont know them 21. What are you bad habits? not putting lids on things 22. Where would you like to travel? everywhere, croatia, sri lanka, india.. greece.. 23. Do you have trust issues? yep 24. Favorite part of your daily routine? coffee and f45 25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? haaaaaa mostly everything 26. What do you do when you wake up? go get coffee 27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? darker :)  28. Who are you most comfortable around? my close friends and family 29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? ummm sort of haha 30. Do you ever want to get married? nah  31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail? kind of :(((( its so short now 32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? channing tatum, ryan gosling, jake Gyllenhaal 33. Spell your name with your chin. .... 34. Do you play sports? What sports? i used to play soccer 35. Would you rather live without TV or music? tv 36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? yer  37. What do you say during awkward silences? probably just sigh 38. Describe your dream girl/guy? kind, gentle, funny, taller,  loves adventure,  long hair, blonde or brunette..  39. What are your favorite stores to shop in? homeware and activewear 40. What do you want to do after high school? i never finished highschool lol 41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? depends.. 42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean? im angry or sad 43. Do you smile at strangers? always 44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? space 45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? coffee 46. What are you paranoid about? i dont know 47. Have you ever been high? yes 48. Have you ever been drunk? yes 49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? yeah lol i guess 50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore? khaki 51. Ever wished you were someone else? sometimes 52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself? how i view myself.. 53. Favourite makeup brand? god i dont even know, i dont really wear makeup or care to much about brands,  55. Favourite blog? mine :P  56. Favourite colour? green or yellow or blue! 57. Favourite food? avocado 58. Last thing you ate? peanut butter  59. First thing you ate this morning? i havent yet 60. Ever won a competition? For what? a bowl 61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? suspended i forgot what for though

62. Been arrested? For what? nope 63. Ever been in love?  yep 64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? dont remember 65. Are you hungry right now? nope 66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends? they are sweet but i lvove my friends 67. Facebook or Twitter? facebook 68. Twitter or Tumblr? tumblr 69. Are you watching tv right now? nope 70. Names of your bestfriends?  alicia, georgie, chase, nathan,  71. Craving something? What? another coffee 72. What colour are your towels? rainbow 72. How many pillows do you sleep with ? 1  73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? nope 74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have? 1 75. Favourite animal? dogs 76. What colour is your underwear? im not wearing any hahah  77. Chocolate or Vanilla? choc 78. Favourite ice cream flavour? mango? 79. What colour shirt are you wearing? yellow 80. What colour pants? im wearing overallls lol 81. Favourite tv show? dont have one atm 82. Favourite movie? me before you 83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? 1  84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? mean girls 85. Favourite character from Mean Girls? dunno 86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo? dory 87. First person you talked to today? nathan  88. Last person you talked to today? boggy 89. Name a person you hate? trump 90. Name a person you love? my mum  91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? nah 92. In a fight with someone? nope 93. How many sweatpants do you have? dunno 94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have? a few 95. Last movie you watched? me before you 96. Favourite actress? jennifer aniston  97. Favourite actor? sam caflin atm 98. Do you tan a lot? yes 99. Have any pets? nope 100. How are you feeling? pretty good tbh 101. Do you type fast? very  102. Do you regret anything from your past? yes 103. Can you spell well? yeah i think so 104. Do you miss anyone from your past? yes 105. Ever been to a bonfire party? nope 106. Ever broken someone’s heart? apparently  107. Have you ever been on a horse? yes 108. What should you be doing? working ( cleaning the shop) 109. Is something irritating you right now? nah 110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? hahah yeh 111. Do you have trust issues? yes  112. Who was the last person you cried in front of? nathan and chase.. 113. What was your childhood nickname? nikki wilks 114. Have you ever been out of your province/state? yes 115. Do you play the Wii? no  116. Are you listening to music right now? yes 117. Do you like chicken noodle soup? no  118. Do you like Chinese food? yeah 119. Favourite book? the secret  120. Are you afraid of the dark? kind of 121. Are you mean? i try not to be 122. Is cheating ever okay? no 123. Can you keep white shoes clean?nope  124. Do you believe in love at first sight? sor t of  125. Do you believe in true love? yes 126. Are you currently bored? yep 127. What makes you happy? dogs, exercise and the ocean 128. Would you change your name? 100% 129. What your zodiac sign? taurus  130. Do you like subway? nah 131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? slap em silly 132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? georgie 133. Favourite lyrics right now? no clue  134. Can you count to one million?fuck that 135. Dumbest lie you ever told? god who knows 136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed? closed

137. How tall are you? 161cm 138. Curly or Straight hair? curly 139. Brunette or Blonde? blonde 140. Summer or Winter? summer 141. Night or Day? day 142. Favourite month? MAY  143. Are you a vegetarian? vegan 144. Dark, milk or white chocolate? dark 145. Tea or Coffee? coffee duh 146. Was today a good day? just started it  147. Mars or Snickers? neither 149. Do you believe in ghosts? yes 

voilaaaaa there you go 

[enigmatist17]

Threads Of Fate (Uncharted)

I wanted to try something out.

NO INCEST AT ALL

-----------------

Nathan wouldn’t be able to move fast enough. Despite being on a galloping horse, Nathan would be hit by a bullet from the gun focused on him, the merc behind it smirking as he moved to pull the trigger. Dread turned to elation when he saw a familiar arm punch the merc out, the man falling to his death as Sully poked his head out and gave Nathan a wave.

Sully’s alive!

With a grin, Nathan urges his horse on, and after a few minutes and a tumbling car later, Nathan is jumping off his horse. Sully is covered in sweat and dried blood, but Nathan doesn’t care as he hugs his mentor tight. He’s shaking slightly, a familiar hand resting on the back of Nathan’s neck and giving a slight squeeze, and then he’s pulling back. The worry in Sully’s eyes make Nathan’s stomach churn, but he can’t dwell on that right now. No, they need to save the world again, and off they ride. It’s to a fight, of course, nameless men falling as he and Sully press forward, a glittering city awaiting them. It’s wonderful, the view almost taking Nathan’s breath away as he drinks deeply from a crystal clear fountain of water. He turns to Sully with a grin, only to be deafened by the sound of a gunshot. 

Nathan feels his world end as Sully looks at him, crimson spreading from the center of his chest before he falls.

His mind is suddenly far away from Ubar, body reacting to chase those who took Sully from him. No, Nathan is in Panama, watching as the other important person in his life dies. Watching himself fail to save someone he loves again, and the numbness turns into pure rage. He presses on, fighting demons and battling with the voice that taunts Nathan, that asks him why he always lets those he loves to die for him. The voice goes away when Sully is back, berating Nathan despite every word being laced with worry and relief. They press on, and hours later they are in Salim’s camp, silent as they all share a drink and look out into the desert, to where the city now lies in ruins underneath the shifting sands. It’s for the best they agree, as the evil it contained deserved nothing more than to remain where no one could ever use it.

Sully and Nathan lie together that night, the younger man all but begging for Sully never to leave him. Despite it being a hallucination, all Nathan sees is Sully dying over and over, and it fills him with fear. Fear of losing someone he loves, for losing the man that had given him so much, for losing him without speaking his mind. Sully just kisses his forehead, promising Nathan that he was here and that nothing would change. 

Not exactly true, but for the most part, he’s correct. Nathan and Elena have a heart to heart, wedding band now adoring Nathan’s finger once again as Sully flies them back to the states. Sully gives Nathan a hug before the two go to Elena’s home, promising to return after ironing out some contracts. Elena spies the tender way Nathan leans up and kisses Sully’s cheek, those big blue eyes shining as Sully excuses himself. She says nothing, but remarks that Nathan seems tenser than he had before, and he just gives a strangled smile. 

A routine is established when Nathan and Elena promise to stop adventuring. They settle down, and Nathan gets a diving job, a real job. At first, he is flustered, unsure of what to do after he comes home from his job. He’s in his 30’s and has never had time to just...sit. Sully comes to visit, and tales of their past seems to help Nathan find his calm. By his fifth visit, Elena watches as they sit side by side, hands hovering so close, yet gazes all they needed to reassure each other. Sully calls sometimes, and she can hear Nathan say that he loves Sully one night, so soft and almost afraid of what the other might say. Of course, Sully replies, and Nathan just lights up in a way that makes Elena’s heart content. When Sully swings by for his next visit, Elena pulls him to the garden to chat, Nathan busy fighting with the oven.

“Nathan has a big heart.” She comments, Sullivan chuckling as he lights a cigar.

“He sure does kid.” Just like that, it’s settled. Nathan, finally having rescued dinner and set it on the table, smiles. Sully has his arm around Elena’s waist, the two looking amused at the Drake across from them. The routine that falls between them is so fluid, its almost like they’ve had it for years.

Samuel Drake, of course, comes into the mix a year later, and the balance is thrown.

At first, the three dial back. Samuel is almost foreign in their little slice of the world, especially with needing their help. Sully flies them of course, Elena in the copilot seat as Nathan and Sam sit in the back. Elena was still shocked Nathan had a brother and mourns for her husband at the same time. She sees that look in his eyes every time he looks at his brother, that glint of sorrow and self-loathing. Madagascar is the first time they really chat, sitting in the jeep as Sully and Nathan go investigate some ruins. Sam makes a noise when Nathan places a hand on Sully’s lower back, steadying him in such an intimate fashion. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” She keeps it chaste, Sam glancing back at his sister-in-law.

“Ah nothin’...at least I’m pretty sure.” She can see the gears turning, remembering Nathan’s curious look when Sully pecked her cheek for the first time. The brothers were so alike, so she asks for some embarrassing stories. Sam delights in the fact, missing a quick kiss as he’s focused on Elena.

He noticed it, and the gears keep turning.

They set up camp and rest for the night, and Sam can’t help but notice the way Elena sits against Sully, waving around a lukewarm beer. He doesn’t dwell further, drawn into a deep conversation with Nathan about their next step, and what would be next. They are all separated the next day, Sam and Nathan fighting for their lives as Sully and Elena are their getaway ride. They emerge victorious, however, and off they go to Avery’s island.

A few painful days later, and the rescue of one bonified psychopath, the four are back in Madagascar. Sam is still irritated that Rafe was saved by Nathan, who shoots back he won’t kill in cold blood. Sully sees the way something in Sam’s eyes flash, and with a grumble, he drags the elder Drake out for a walk.

Samuel Drake has changed, that much Sully can see. He isn’t as carefree as he once had been, and the years he lost hangs around him like thick chains. 13 years is a long time, and Sully can see that the other is lost and angry about it. It takes little prompting to hear how close Nadine Ross had come to losing her life, cementing even further how different Sam had become. Sure, he probably had killed for Nathan before, but to try and do so when Nathan was feet away...christ. A bar, a beacon, calls out to them, and Sam drinks. Sully nurses a glass, watching as bottle after bottle pile up around Sam. Sully blinks, and it’s a heartbroken Nathan before him, crying out for a brother he had left behind, a brother who had died in his hands.

The bartender is blown away by the tip, which was a solid gold coin.

Sam is gangly and hard to steer, Sullivan cursing when the elder nearly lit his arm on fire. They make it halfway to the hotel before Sam just stops, staring at Sully. They’re near a park, alone as the light is fading and everyone is going for dinner.

“Are you fuckin’ Nathan?” Sully gave an exasperated noise, Sam childishly crossing his arms.

“No, I am not fucking your brother.” Slightly Sam’s posture changes and Sully fishes out a cigar. “But, we aren’t just friends if you catch my drift.”

“The fuck does that mean.” Sam stared at Sully, and the older man remembers the first time he met Sam, so defiant and vicious over his brother. 

“Take a seat, and I’ll tell you.” Sam sprawls on the closest bench, and Sully stands before him, smoking to settle his nerves. Despite being drunk as shit, Sam had the amazing ability to remember everything he was told. Sully explains Ubar, how Nathan had pushed himself so far to come and save his sorry ass, a beaten and bruised mess as he gave everything for the older man. He explained how Nathan had broken down, had pleaded to Sully that he couldn’t bear to live without the other. Kisses and the occasional cuddle were as far as they went, as, despite everything, there was only so far they could go. Nathan was still the kid he helped raise, and what their relationship had evolved into was just right for Sully. Sam listens, and after an uncomfortable stretch of silence, asks where Elena fits in. 

She just does.

Sam is less grumpy when they finally return, Nathan and Elena half roused from their bed when Sam flops down, out like a light despite dangling half off the bed. Sully rolls his eyes, and pulls Sam up and onto the pillows, tucking him in before going to sleep himself.

They stay in Madagascar for a few days, Sam able to watch in earnest at how the three existed.

Nathan was by far the more obvious one of the group, not very surprising to his brother. Those eyes would shine whenever he looked at Sully or Elena, practically broadcasting the fact he was head over heels for them both. Elena would watch her husband in adoration at times, linking her hand with his whenever he got too excited, tethering Nathan lest he goes off and falls into trouble. He would smile whenever he and Sully would joke, sometimes moving close to brush their hands against each other under the guise of perusing a store. 

Call him sentimental, but Sully buys a lemur, Nathan practically shining as he kisses Sullivan behind a vendors stall.

When they finally return to Nathan and Elena’s home, Sam finds himself unsure of where he fits. He wanders a lot, stealing Sully’s phone to research about what Nathan had discovered. Rafe had only told him bits and pieces, and one can usually find Sam perched on the closest libraries rooftop just reading about what Nathan had found.

Is he jealous? Maybe.

Is he jealous of Nathan’s family? Maybe.

Does he want a part of it? Yes.

Sam was taken with Elena, finding her fiery spirit and stubbornness to rival even him attractive. Sure, she was also easy on the eyes, but she was married. Married, and in a chaotic yet smooth relationship, Sam knew he’d have better luck digging up Ubar than step into that. That was all for Nathan, and Sam didn’t steal from his brother...not usually anyway. Christ, this sort of thing was just in the realm of strange, yet he could see how those gossamer threads got tangled up. Sam turns from research to find places to live, all alone and away from Nathan.

He didn’t want to fuck everything up, not like he usually did. Pity he doesn’t know that a search function keeps a record.

[marvelhead17]

Miracle (Original Female Character x Cable)

Chapter 30

Summary: “How did you fix it?” he asked. “Ask Ellen the Teenage Warhead,” Wade shrugged as he stood up, “As for baby Hitler he ended up having a diaper change, funny story I was actually going to call Cable since he was so keen on killing Russel, I thought this would be like taking candy from a baby, if that means replacing it with a bullet that is,”

Warnings to cover the whole fic: Graphic depictions of violence, use of weapons, mild to strong language, mentions of rape, mentions of pregnancy and miscarriage, referenced torture and psychological abuse/manipulation, nightmares and night terrors, sexual humour, sexual content.

Word count:  2k

Two Months Later

Xavier’s School had officially closed for the school year for nearly a month now for the summer holidays, although a lot of the kids chose to stay behind due to their home situations, if of course they had homes to return to.

This meant Wade and Russel had plenty of catching up to do in terms of chaos and havoc, in his new honed abilities and Wade’s pre-planned pranks, which were of course aimed towards stressing Colossus out greatly, or irritating Ellie beyond reasoning.

Hayden sat on the couch with her music playing in her ears, thinking back to yesterday where Wade had tried to prank Nathan and how it went horribly wrong, for Wade that is. She grinned as she replayed the events in her mind.

It started off early in the morning when Nathan decided to have some coffee…

    “C’mon Nathan, don’t you trust me? I swear I just made it, it’s still hot, see?” Wade insisted as he poured the black liquid into Nathan’s large mug.

“No, and you know that, but you’re still a persistent little shit anyway,” he grumbled but took his mug anyway; he eyed the steam that floated out and decided to let his initial instincts on the matter go.

That was his first mistake of the long day.

He took a big swig of the coffee and spat it out almost immediately after his tongue caught on to the foul taste.

“What the fuck is this?” he half yelled as he slammed the mug down on the table, it shattered all over the counter and the remaining coffee spilled to the floor as well.

“It’s Balsamic Coffee!” Wade laughed, albeit rather nervously. “Look Cable it was just a-”

“Just a prank? I’ve had it up to here with all the pranks you’ve both been doing on Colossus and Ellie, everyone’s trying to relax after a long year and you’re making us sit on the edge of our sanity with your endless ‘practical jokes’,” he took a step closer to Wade with gritted teeth.

He grabbed Wade’s shirt collar and lifted him off the ground, the muscles in his arms tensing up and the veins revealing themselves.

  “Nathan,” Hayden touched his shoulder gently, his muscles relaxed and he lowered Wade slightly. “Put him down, please,” he put Wade onto the ground again, “Thank you,” she stood on her toes and kissed him on the cheek, making it hard for him to hide the smile creeping up on his hard demeanour.

“Mhm,” he grumbled in acknowledgement, still glaring at Wade.

“As for you Wade,” she turned and poked him hard in the chest with her finger, causing him to take a step back in fear, “I completely agree with Nathan, you need to stop with all these pranks, and soon. Or I’m going to beat your senses back into you, understand?” Wade nodded nervously, “Good. Now go.”

                      Wade quickly ran from the room, still managing to maintain a skip in his steps from the joy of messing with Nathan.

“That wasn’t just about the crappy coffee, was it?” she turned back to Nathan after she shook her head at Wade, “What’s bugging you?”

“You read me far too well for my liking darlin’,” he huffed but still wrapped an arm around her waist.

“It’s about Hope’s birthday, isn’t it?” she pressed, he only nodded in response, “I don’t see why you can’t have Hope come here-”

“You know she wouldn’t have it-”

“So what, Nathan, she’s your daughter for God’s sake, you have every right to celebrate her damn birthday with her!” Hayden moved away from him feeling irritated as she tried to make her case, starting to pace back and forth as she spoke.

“Her mother has full custody of her-”

“That didn’t stop you from taking her to the carnival months ago! And it certainly didn’t stop you from bringing her back here several times to spend time with you-”

“I can’t kidnap my own daughter every time I want to see her Hayden,”

“And why the hell not?” she crossed her arms, “Hope loves it here, she wants to be around her dad as much as she can, she’s allowed to make her own choices of who she wants to live with-”

“Hayden-”

“I mean it! You can’t let your ex run half of your life Nathan-”

“Hayden,” he placed his hands on her shoulders stopping her pacing.

“What?” she asked angrily.

  “What’s this really about?” he asked looking down into her eyes.

“It’s not about anything besides you spending time with Hope,” she answered too quickly.

“Wrong, try again,”

“I- fine,” she sighed, “I really want to see Hope again, alright? She gives me the chance to see everything through the eyes of a real kid, not like me. I was training as a soldier from her age- I love her Nathan, she’s a sweetheart and I’ll be damned if I can’t see her be happy for her birthday,”

Nathan’s expression turned to that of a big grin, “Really now?”

“Yes,” she rolled her eyes, “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Just a little,” he teased.

“Nate, seriously,” she tugged at his shirt and looked up at him as his arms circled instinctively around her waist, “do you know what Hope told me would be the greatest gift for her birthday?” he shook his head, “To quote, ‘to be with my Daddy, last year he promised he’d come back on time but he didn’t, I don’t hate him though. I know he still loves me’, unquote.”

“She really said that?” his face softened and his eyes wetted slightly.

“Of course she did, she’s your daughter and she loves you Nathan.”

  He thought for a moment before finally speaking up, “I’ll probably be hearing from her lawyers because of this, but for my little girl’s birthday, how could I say no?”

“Good,” Hayden patted his cheek and smiled, “You’re doing the right thing Nathan.” She rested her arms playfully around his neck.

“God I hope so,” he sighed and leaned his face closer to hers, “You’re getting me into a lot of trouble you know that Haydes?”

“Not that you’re resisting much to begin with,” she giggled and he smiled before kissing her lips slowly, she smiled and pressed the kiss back eagerly.

                                                         * * *

  Afternoon

Nathan had insisted that Hayden play her guitar and sing for him up in her room, telling her that it helped him relax better, especially whenever Wade was driving him crazy, which was more often than not. She didn’t mind though, seeing as how today Wade was driving him up the wall more so than usual.

He was laid back on the bed and listening with his eyes closed and a calm expression across his face, he was practically in a dozing state until he heard the sounds of someone clambering around in his room; he sat upright and sighed irritably.

“That better not be Wade,” he grumbled and Hayden stopped playing.

“I highly doubt that it isn’t,”

“OH GOD WHAT I COULD DO WITH THIS BEAR,” they heard Wade say loudly.

“WADE-” he shot up from his seated position and ran out from Hayden’s room, “YOU BETTER NOT BE TOUCHING MY DAUGHTER’S BEAR YOU-”

  Hayden got up and followed quickly only to find that Nathan was rolling on the floor by his door, his upper torso covered with saran wrap, he struggled with it as it clung tightly around him. Wade stood inside the room cackling with success.

“What the hell is this, get it off!” Nathan yelled.

“Wade seriously?” Hayden sighed and held Nathan still on the floor; she started peeling off the material slowly and eventually unravelled it all from him.

                  “I thought his futuristic cyborg eye would have helped him at least see the stuff, that went way better than expected,”

Nathan got himself up from the floor and gave Wade a death glare, his own face flushed red from his embarrassment at being fooled by such a silly prank, Hayden put her hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright Nate? You didn’t get hurt anywhere?” she eyed over his form quickly.

“I’m fine,” he didn’t meet her gaze as he was embarrassed.

“Good,” she pecked his cheek before turning to Wade, “Do you remember a word of what I told you earlier?” she asked through gritted teeth.

He gulped, “Ah, that corporal punishment is wrong and getting off with a verbal warning is the only way a person will learn?” he said rather hopefully.

“Definitely not,” she approached him and slapped him hard in the face, leaving a bright red handprint clear on his cheek, “What the hell is wrong with you? You don’t go and poke the bear, and you certainly don’t torture the bear with stupid shit like this,” Wade rubbed his cheek and didn’t meet her gaze, “Wade, seriously you could have hurt him now-”

“I said I’m fine Haydes-”

She ignored him, “Promise me, and really promise me, no more pranks that can really hurt someone?”

“Fine, I promise,” Wade gave in, throwing his hands in the air.

“Thank you, it’s really big of you to take responsibility like this,”

“Ugh responsibility, that’s the worst,” he tilted his face towards the ceiling.

                                                           * * *

  Evening

Hayden was helping Nathan out with his new phone (again) that he’d gotten, he didn’t have a need for smartphones in the future, as whatever information he needed was always displayed around for everyone to read or he could simply find it by using his metal arm to locate the information on a server when he got hold of some wiring.

He still wasn’t used to the smaller screen in his big hands, and he was altogether unfamiliar with the topics of interest in this era, making him get rather irritable with the ‘complicated’ device very easily.

“I don’t see why you want to learn all this; it’s all just a fad anyway,” she shrugged at him.

“Because I don’t want to be the old man who doesn’t understand technology,” he insisted.

“You don’t even use this stuff in the future, and for the last time you’re not old,” she squeezed his hand and he gave a small side smile, “Besides, you only really need to be able to call one of us, if it’s absolutely necessary and you already know how to do that,”

  Whoop.

  Nathan’s phone sounded and the notification panel displayed at the top of the screen, ‘New message from ‘Wilson’’.

“What does that idiot want now?” he opened the chat and saw there was an attachment that needed to be downloaded, the caption ‘Open me when you’re alone’ along with it, he looked to Hayden.

She shook her head, “I really wouldn’t, who knows what he’s done now,”

“That’s exactly why I have to open it,” Nathan sighed; he tapped the screen and after a moment the image downloaded to his phone he opened it and gagged. “God what is wrong with him?” he put his phone to the side.

“What is it?” she asked trying to reach for it but Nathan grabbed her hand to stop her and shook his head.

“It’s a picture of the cunt’s dick, I can’t believe he actually- wait a minute,” Nathan’s eyes went wide and he grabbed the phone again, “Son of a bitch this was taken in my room!” he got up and went upstairs, Hayden followed closely behind.

  “Son of a bitch,” Nathan muttered as he stormed into his room, the entire of it being covered with multiple coloured edits of blown up images of Wade’s dick, “He’s relentlessly disgusting,” he pulled an image off the wall and tore it into pieces, “I’m cutting his dick off for this.”

“I might just hold him down for you,” Hayden said from behind him, “Um Nathan,”

“Yeah?”

“Do you own anything remotely pink?”

“What? No, why are you asking me that?” he turned to frown at her.

She nodded in the direction of his bathroom, “Then he’s left something in there for you,”

Nathan hurried into it and found that some of his toiletries and bathroom décor had been changed to ones that were Hello Kitty themed; he gritted his teeth and turned to Hayden before looking back at the newly decorated room.

“He’s dead, he’s so dead,”

________________________________________________________________

>> Chapter 31 <<

[swanderful1]

A Cold Awakening: Ch 7/?

Modern crime AU. Twenty years have gone by since Storybrooke was shaken to the core by a gruesome crime that went unsolved. Sheriff David Nolan and his partner, daughter Emma are forced to revisit the crime. At the same time, Killian Jones and his older brother Liam have been drawn back to the town they had longed to never see again, struggling to find their own answers. As taunting notes and clues show up they are taken on a journey to finally bring justice for the Jones family. And Emma Nolan finds herself caught in a situation more dangerous than she could have ever imagined. 

Notes: Another one, a little over 7200 words so it’s the longest one so far. The whole thing can be read on AO3  and now ffnet so enjoy!!!

Emma waited for Killian in the hotel bar of the place he was staying. The place was luxurious, to say the least. All high ceilings and dramatic pillars. In a way it reminded her of the Jones mansion before it began to crumble. He had agreed to meet her when she called him not even an hour ago. But it was late and probably inconvenient so she offered to come to him.

 The bartender was a middle aged man with graying hair and wore a black vest. She felt very out of place in this world. His world. Any of the scenarios Emma had encountered Killian in recently had been on her territory... but this. This was different. She wore jeans that had holes up and down the legs and brown leather boots that reached her knees. Her long blonde hair fell loose around her shoulders because she hadn’t bothered to brush it that day. And she was absolutely certain that the little makeup she had put on that morning, nearly twelve hours before, had worn off.

 A couple at the other end of the bar was dressed to the nines probably coming back to the hotel for a drink after an extravagant night in the city. They sat facing one another in an act of intimacy you can only have with someone you undoubtedly trust. The woman with long black hair elegantly framing her face. The man with lighter hair kept back to reveal the adoring eyes with which he gazed at this woman. Emma wondered if she would ever know that kind of intimacy with someone. She shook her head and went back to her drink. A rum and coke she had ordered but barely nursed it. She honestly just wanted to tell Killian what she knew and go home. Emma was a bit wary after their last interaction, him rushing out of the coffee shop without so much as a wave good bye. Why was she dumbfounded each time that man left her presence?

 “Time change is bloody awful.” He mumbled when sat down at the bar stool next to her. “I’ve been here weeks and I still can’t seem to feel awake when I’m supposed to.”

 She looked to him. He appeared rather ragged. His hair wasn’t perfectly styled, it was in fact messy. He wasn’t donning a tailored suit or designer jeans. The scruff on his chin was longer and unkempt. He didn’t come off as manicured as he had before. His blue eyes were red rimmed, she felt bad for even calling him this late. She should have just waited.

 “I have some news for you. I’m sorry for calling so late I just didn’t know if you would want me to wait.”

 “It’s all right.” He started, she watched him shift in his seat to get comfortable. He raised his hand slightly and the bartender nodded in his direction before setting to work on making a drink. “I would have wanted to know.”

 “There isn’t necessarily a polite way to say this, Killian.”

 “I think you and I did away with polite a long time ago, love.”

 It irked her. Every time. The use of that word as if it were such a casual endearment for someone. He would just throw it out there whenever he pleased. Emma wasn’t entirely sure if the fact that he used it bothered her or that he used it on other women bothered her.

 “Do you use that term with everyone?” her voice came off more annoyed than she had initially intended.

 “No, come to think of it I don’t believe I’ve ever used it with your father.” A lighthearted smirk. He seemed to become amused when she was irritated. Especially when he was the cause of it. “Does it bother you?”

 “It just catches me off guard when you say it.” She tried not to give anything else away, sitting rather stiff-like on the bar stool, very aware of how close he was to her. She took a sip of the rum and coke to busy her hands.

 “It’s a habit of speech, so I apologize. I most certainly don’t mean it to offend you.” She could almost see him smiling out of the corner of her eye. “Unless of course you like it.”

 “Let’s just… let’s just talk about what I came here for. Okay?” She licked the light dusting of alcohol on her lips and inhaled a few quick breaths to calm herself down. Irritation, or was it something else, building within her belly. She flipped a long lock of blonde hair over her shoulder. “Inside the mailbox was the key to a motel room.”

 “Oh?” The bartender brought Killian’s drink and placed it in front of him. It was also a rum and coke but Emma was certain he had ordered a higher shelf liquor than her.

 “So my suspicion is that one of your parents was having an affair.” She turned toward him and lowered her voice, not sure she wanted anyone else in the room to hear their conversation. “Given what you’ve told me about his track record… my money’s on your father.”

 “Ah, yes. That does sound like dear old dad.” He was staring straight forward now, not meeting her eyes, he took a sip from his glass. The ice rattling against the sides as he set it back down on the bar with a loud ‘thunk’. She felt the urge to reach out and touch his shoulder, something to offer him comfort. The circumstances they were under were not light, and it was clearly weighing on him.

 “Did you know anyone by the name of Nathan Jones?” she asked, once he had untensed a bit. “That was the name the mailbox was listed under.”

 “My grandfather. Father’s father. But he was long gone by that time.” Killian’s face once again grew more troubled. She didn’t want to press him for information but she also knew he wanted to help. And maybe it was up to her to find ways in which he could. Even if they  weren’t comfortable.

 “So whomever opened it probably did so in your grandfather’s name, and then used it for their own antics.”

 “It would appear so.”

 “If this is too hard for you, we could always just give you a weekly report.” She offered. “It could be sent through your lawyer. It might be easier on you.”

 “As much as I know you’re probably eager to be rid of me,” he turned to look at her now, his face resuming the arrogant glow that it usually had, “I feel my help is more needed than my absence.”

 “If you’re sure.”

 “Positive.” He said finishing what little he had left of his drink. “Is there anything else?”

 “Not at the moment. I haven’t had the chance to go scope out the motel.” She shared. She had wanted to go almost immediately. But her father and Graham were leaving for Boston early Saturday morning to meet with Graham’s chief and give a report on the status of the investigation. Along with them they had taken the security footage from the cameras on the building. The film was too blurry, not leading to anything distinct caught on camera but on one of the tapes there had been a shadow of a figure in a corner of the shot. Nothing the Storybrooke police department had would be able to deduce the figure, but they hoped Boston could help with it. In addition they had a record of the license plate numbers that had come in and out of town for the past six months, records of anyone traveling within the town limits, anything that would indicate someone had come here to send them on this wild chase.

 The case had also regained its media legs. That was a large part of the reason Emma opted out of the trip to Boston. Her father and Graham would be doing interviews with major news stations, newspapers, and the like before they all made their way to Storybrooke to once again swarm the streets to get their story. Emma wanted to avoid that circus as long as she could. They would be back Monday morning, but the curiosity of going to the motel was driving Emma mad. She had wanted to go. Even if it didn’t lead to anything, just to see the place. Retrace the steps of the departed. Find a way to make sense of the thought process. The only way she would solve this case was if she really understood Brennan and Moira Jones. The next step of that understanding would come from going to that motel.

 “I suppose you will not be needing my company on that trip as well?” he asked bringing her back from its wandering.

 She had remembered the day prior. With the mailbox. Him asking whether or not she would be taking him with her to see it. She knew it was stupid and despite her better judgement opened her mouth and let an unwise offer flow from her lips.

 “Actually. If you’re up for it I was going to go tomorrow.” What the fuck was she doing. He wasn’t going to come, of course he wasn’t coming. Who in their right mind would?

 “All right.”

 “What?”

 “I’ll go along.” He said a bit slower now.

 “You really don’t have to Killian. It can’t b-”

 “I want to.” He cut her off. Deliberate in his words. There was no shaking him. She too had met her match.

 “I will see you tomorrow evening then.” She said, tossing some cash down on the bar to cover her one measly drink. A thousand rum and cokes couldn’t prepare her for a slight road trip with Killian Jones to a slimeball motel in the middle of nowhere.

 “Of course.” He raised his glass in her direction before draining the remaining liquid and throwing his own cash down onto the bar. “Good night, Emma.”

 “Good night Killian.”

   That night she dreamt, not of the case for the first time in weeks, something else entirely had made its way in.

 Rough hands exploring her lace-clad body. The cold feel of handcuffs on her wrists, chaining her to the posts of her bed. Silk sheets adorning the mattress. Her body writhed against them, needing something. Anything. That would ease the ache between her legs. She looked down. Dark hair belonging to the head of someone she did not care to admit. Blue eyes piercing right into her soul as he worked his tongue over and over her delicate center. The scruff of his facial hair leaving tiny red marks on her thighs. “Please.” She begged, completely breathless as her core tightened with every last motion of his tongue. Slowly his mouth retreated and he eased something inside of her. She arched her back in response, grabbing onto the posts of the bed before realizing it was not his finger that had worked its way in. But the cool metal of an arched silver hook.

 Saturday morning Emma woke a bit later than usual with a start. She had allowed herself not to set an alarm. But now was regretting it. The contents of her dream fully apparent to her as she sat up and looked around, grabbing her wrists just to make sure there were no handcuffs. There were not. Of course. She picked up her ragged copy of Peter Pan that sat on her bed. She had pulled it out after Henry’s play, reminiscing on the original story she had fallen in love with. Emma threw the book to the floor. The presence of the hook in her dream was only slightly erotic now in the light of the morning.  Not entirely wanting to deal with the fact that someone had infuriatingly worked his way into her psyche.

 “Fuck.” She mumbled as she got out of bed. How in the world was she supposed to be in a car with Killian today. After that. The usual sun that came through her bay windows was blanketed by cloud cover. The day would not be so nice, Emma noticed and climbed out of bed. When she looked in the mirror in her en suite bathroom she saw something in her face. Color. There was a pink hint to her cheeks. It even reached her lips making them a bit plumper than usual. Through her thin white shirt she could see the hard outline of her nipples pressed to the fabric. What in the world had come over her?

 “Mom!” she heard Henry yell from down the hall. Damn it. Hopefully she had at least been quiet during her explicit dreams. “Are you okay in there?”

 “Yeah, kid. I’m fine!” oh my god he had heard her. “Just a bad dream. I’ll walk you to Gold’s in a half hour.”

 “I’m getting my period.” She said to no one but herself, still eyeing her appearance in the mirror. It was an offering of logic in a situation that was turning quite scary for her. Though she knew her time of the month wasn’t the cause of things. She ran cold water in the sink and splashed it on her face to wake herself up. As the water hit her skin untensed a little realizing that it was just a dream. There was nothing to worry about. That was all it had been.

 After dropping Henry off, Emma walked over to Granny’s to meet Ruby for breakfast. Despite working with her best friend they hardly had time together to themselves anymore and Emma felt herself missing having her to talk to. There weren’t many people Emma trusted. She could count them on one hand probably. But Ruby was always loyal. And for the most part understanding. Additionally, she hadn’t disclosed to anyone that Emma had followed Killian out of the office that day, and hadn’t mentioned it since.

 Her best friend already had a booth waiting for them when Emma arrived. Her favorite one. It was right by the front windows and she could see outside while she ate. Immediately she ordered a steaming pot of coffee and told Granny to keep them coming. She was still a little wired from her wake up this morning.

 “Em, you okay?” Ruby asked about halfway into their meal. Emma had opted for an omelette as opposed to a grilled cheese at 10 am.

 “Yeah. Why do you ask?” Emma took a nonchalant sip of her coffee.

 “Because you have sex hair and I know you're not fucking anyone.”

 Emma spit out the dark roast onto her omelette. Completely floored. That was the last thing she had expected to come out of Ruby’s mouth. Especially when her friend had stated it so casually. It wasn’t up for argument.

 “I haven’t been sleeping well.” Emma said as she wiped the spilled coffee from the table. “A lot on my mind lately. Obviously.”

 “Do any of the things on your mind have to do with a very handsome, very tortured Englishman?”

 “Ruby…” Emma looked at her best friend frustrated. They had been having such a nice breakfast why did it have to take this turn. “There’s nothing going on between me and Killian. I just want to help his family get some answers.”

 “You say that but then I don’t see you getting into a car following Liam off into lord knows where.”

 “He never asked.” Emma defended.

 “Well he’s right over there why don’t you just go talk to him.” Emma looked over to where her friend’s head was tilted. Of course. There Liam Jones sat at a booth on the other side of the room. A pretty blonde woman across from him, feeding something on a spoon to a small toddler. A family. A whole family, she thought. He was entirely different from his brother. Even in the way Liam was built. His face had smile lines, his hair was lighter and curly, where Killian’s was dark and straight. He was soft where Killian was hard.

 “Why are you acting this way? What does it matter to you?”

 “I’m just worried about you.” Her friend reached across the table and grabbed Emma’s available hand. “I know you’re tough. I get that. But you’ve always liked the bad boys, Em. And they’ve always liked you.”

 “I’m a smart girl. I’m not going to do anything wrong.” Emma reassured her friend knowing the concern had come out of love. The conversation eased into something else shortly after and it was like the tension had never occurred. Emma was grateful. She wasn’t entirely sure she could take more of that talk. Not after waking up this morning in the way that she did, flushed with emotion and… need. It had been a while since she’d had sex. That was all. Her body telling her it was time to go on another one time date with someone. Have him scratch her itch then send him on his way.  

 After breakfast Emma had gone home to change into running clothes. The day wasn’t great but she needed exercise. She needed a nice long run. She had to get rid of some of her energy before seeing Killian later. So she made her way to the park, popping in her headphones to drown out the rest of the world.

 It wasn’t long before she was no longer on the grounds of the park. She had found an empty stretch of road that turned into a hill and decided to take that on. All she could hear was the music playing from her head phones. She had chosen Beyonce. For obvious reasons. Needing to feel a little more empowered as she took on this particular day. Over the top of the hill she could see the figure of someone walking along the side of the road. She squinted to see it was someone walking their dog. She ignored the person until she was a lot closer and realized exactly who it was.

 “You have a dog?” she stopped running and took out her earbuds when she was close enough that Killian could hear her. She hardly recognized him as he was dressed casually, jeans and a flannel.

 “Aye. She just arrived this morning. Regina returned from London with her.” Emma felt herself flush a little at the mention of Regina. She had wondered if maybe there was something going on with those two. Killian and Regina. Flying overseas to fetch his dog indicated maybe there was something more there. “Emma this is Princess, my dog. Princess this is Emma.”

 She bit back a laugh. Looking at the dog she did not look like a Princess. Nor did he seem the type to give that name to a dog. The dog was some sort of pitbull with a massive head and muscular body, her fur coat a gorgeous gray-blue color. He sensed her amusement and smiled. “Okay lass no need to laugh. I rescued her she came with that name.”

 “I’m sure she did.” Emma knelt down to give the dog the opportunity to come sniff her. She noticed a pink collar around her neck with a name tag that even had a small gold crown on it. She smiled, a bit amused that he not only had a dog named Princess but had given her a collar fit for the name as well. “Hi Princess, you’re adorable.”

 The dog warmed to Emma and was soon sitting on her lap on the concrete, inching every which way so Emma could scratch her more. She was awfully friendly. She wondered if maybe she and Henry might get a dog. Something they could rescue. It wasn’t an awful idea. They had the space.

 “She’s lovely, Killian.” Emma said before standing up. She had probably been sitting on the road for nearly ten minutes, distracted by how precious Princess was.  

 “Glad you think so. She doesn’t usually like everyone she meets.”

 “She’s taken to you quite well.” She noticed the dog’s loyalty toward her owner almost instantly. As soon as Emma had ceased petting her Princess had returned to Killian’s side, sitting demurely next to him.

 “Love at first sight.” He said back looking at Emma, not taking his baby blue eyes from hers. She wasn’t sure what she should do next. If she should put her music back on and keep running or what. But now looking at him, in jeans and a flannel shirt, a hint of chest hair peeking from beneath, she couldn’t get the sight of him in her dream out of her mind. Bent down between her legs. She completely at his mercy. She felt a bit warm and turned her head so he wouldn’t see.

 Luckily she wasn’t the one who would have to make the next move. Princess began grunting and tugging trying to get Killian to walk from his spot he was locked in.

 “Looks like someone would like to continue their walk.” Emma joked looking at Princess making defiant tugs at her bright pink leash. They were quite the pair those two.

 “Care to join us?” he offered, taking Emma off guard. She weighed the option in her mind. They were far enough outside of town that no one would likely see them together. At least not anyone she knew. But then she remembered her conversation with Ruby earlier in the day. She had promised her best friend there was nothing going on. She had promised herself there was nothing going on. Yet here she was, standing a few feet from him, wanting to be just a bit closer.

 “Okay.” She answered before she could stop herself. Before she could come to her senses and run the hell home.

 “We were just headed to this field up here so she can run around. She had a long journey to get back to me.” Killian said as they started walking together. It was nice, Emma had to admit, the closeness of it. She almost forgot the circumstances they were under. Almost.

 “When did you rescue her?” Emma asked once they were in the open field. The grass was tall but Princess was strong and fast. She leapt and bounded over each patch, catching the tennis ball Killian had brought to throw to her. Emma was surprised a dog with that much energy had made it eight hours on a plane.

 “About two years ago. She needed a home and I needed a companion.” There was something behind his words. A touch of regret. Maybe that was why he had only had one serious partner.

 “Bad breakup?”

 “Dreadful.” He did not appear that he wanted to elaborate on the discussion and quickly changed the subject. “She usually travels with me for work. She’s well trained now, but coming back to the states was so sudden I didn’t have time to get her paperwork in order.”

 “I’m sure it’s nice to have her here finally.” Princess brought the ball back but this time dropped it at Emma’s feet.

 Killian leaned down near to Emma’s ear to say, “She wants you to throw it for her, love.” Had he been standing that close this whole time?

 They spent the early part of the afternoon playing with his dog in the field. Princess never seemed to tire. But eventually Killian did and he had to get back to his hotel for a conference call before their excursion later that night. You could almost forget he was an in-demand businessman, with a dark unsolved past when he was scaled back like this. Just a man playing with his dog in a field. She wondered how often he was able to be this version of himself. The version that wasn’t closed off from the rest of the world, the one that smiled at stupid jokes, and neglected trimming his beard.

 They walked back to the road separated by Princess who proudly carried the tennis ball in her mouth. Killian reattached her pink leash.

 “Well, it was a pleasure. I think my dog enjoyed your company.” Looking down the dog now sat at Emma’s feet, not moving in the opposite direction she and her owner were headed.

 “I enjoyed hers.” Emma bent down to pet the dog on the head but she looked at Killian all the while. “Listen, if you would rather stay with her tonight since she just got here, we can cancel. I understand.”

 When she rose from petting the dog she was very close to him but neither one of them moved.

 “It’s quite all right. She’s visiting with Liam and his family tonight anyway.” Had he told his brother where he was going? And that he was going with her? “He thinks I have a date.”

 Emma gulped. She was sure Killian could read her face. It was in the same way she could read his. Two untrusting people appearing as open books to one another.

 “Of course I don’t think this is an actual date, Emma.” He corrected. Clearly he could tell what she was thinking. They were still awfully close to one another and Emma could feel her heart beating a bit faster when he looked right into her eyes and said, “If I thought it was a date, you’d know it.”

 It was a lot for her but she still didn’t move. She didn’t want to be the first to back down. His tongue darted to the corner of his mouth before his face broke into an amused smile. Oh yeah. He knew what he did to her.

 “I’ll see you later then, Emma.” He spun on his heel and began walking away, his Princess right beside him. Emma couldn’t help but notice a bit of a spring in his step as he walked toward the direction of his hotel.

  The late evening sunset was on the horizon, painting the sky an array of pinks and oranges. Emma packed a small bag of things she may need for the little road trip. Her badge, pictures of the hotel key, flashlight, gun, knife, flash drive, a box of poptarts. She was technically off the clock. But Emma needed to keep moving with things. It was for this very reason she was even going on this excursion to see the motel where Killian’s father had been carrying out an affair. She was bringing Killian because…. She would have to provide herself with an excuse later.

 From what Emma could see on the internet, the motel was sleazy. It was the type of place you took someone you didn’t want the world to know you were seeing. It had been closed down for a while because a prostitution ring was being run out of several of the rooms. Not even a year ago there had been a shooting in the parking lot. Despite all of this, the place was still open for business. She doubted there was any kind of record that would indicate who had been occupying room 38 with Mr. Jones nearly twenty years ago but Emma had to go see what she could find. There had to be something useful.

 She picked up Killian just as the sun was setting. He still appeared tired when he climbed into her car. But he carried two steaming mugs of coffee and handed one to Emma. She was shocked when she took a sip of hers and found that it had the barest hint of cinnamon. She looked over at the passenger seat, astonished that he had even known.

 “Did I not do it right?” He looked concerned and then pissed, “I told the man at the coffee bar, a little bit of cinnamon, just a touch. It’s too much?”

 “How did you know?”

 “That day at the bookstore. Your mother brought you a cup but they had been out of cinnamon…”

 “Thank you.” Was all she could say. It was the most subtle and thoughtful thing someone had done for her in a long time. She almost felt guilty for being so hard on him. Deep down maybe he actually was a gentleman.

 She peeled out of the parking lot and set off on the road. There wasn’t much conversation between the two of them but the silence was comfortable. The miles of highway stretched on as the sun was still fully going down. Emma took large gulps of her coffee so she would be fully awake by the time she got to their destination. When they pulled into the motel it looked worse than it had online. Clearly the photo from the website was from years ago. The foundation appeared to be crumbling, the red paint was chipping off of the wood siding, and the surrounding lawn area was completely overgrown. Only a few cars were in the parking lot, none of them too flashy. Emma was glad they had chosen to take her old rickety bug and not Killian’s Audi.

 “What’s the plan, love?”

 “I need to get into their computer to snag any record they may have so I can look at it on my own.” She knew there was a very good chance a place like this had absolutely no concrete record of who came and who went but she needed to try. “I think it would be best if we just paid for the room. And then we can take a look around.”

 “They are pretty steep prices,” Killian joked indicating the sign that said rates per night were around $50. “Is this on the police department’s dime?”

 “No.” Emma said looking at him, hoping he wouldn’t be angry when she said “The police department doesn’t know that we’re here.”

 “Oh.” He chimed, clearly surprised but did not appear upset. If anything the look that came over his face was amusement. “What a naughty little adventure you’ve dragged me into, Miss Nolan.”

 His use of her formal name brought her back to when they had first met that day at the police station. The stiff, rigid way in which he used to deal with her. He was still guarded, they both were. Perhaps that was why she had asked him to come along today. It was just nice to be around someone who didn’t expect her to reveal herself.

 “You follow your own rules don’t you?” he asked after a few minutes of quiet. She could feel herself doubting whether or not it was a good idea to do this. What if her father found out? What would he say? But they were already here. So she took a deep breath and exited the bug.

 Once inside the lobby of the main building, Killian created a diversion with the man at the front desk, allowing Emma to use drive to collect information from the computer. They cut it close, the man almost returning to the main room a few times but Killian managed to be a decent wingman, keeping him distracted until Emma waved that she was done.

 After that, Emma asked the man to rent the room they wanted to see. She assumed it wouldn’t be odd if they did not stay over, being that places like this were typically used for quick trysts masked by the thin walls and tree coverage. It was set back from the highway. She looked at Killian wondering how he felt being here. Knowing this was probably where his father had brought his lover or perhaps lovers. Of that they were not entirely sure. Had there been just one? Or several?

 “Enjoy.” The creepy man said as he gave them the room key, most likely suspecting the two were here for a quick one and done. As they turned to walk away Emma felt the light press of Killian’s hand on the small of her back.. She jumped at the contact. This was only the second time she had felt his touch, but the current that went through her body unmistakeable as something more than just surprise. He looked down at her, somewhat concerned that she had flinched at his touch. Had he felt it too? Of course not. It was an act. For the man behind the front desk. However, his hand did not move away until Emma was slipping the key card into the slot on the door for the room.

 “Lovely.” Was all Killian said when he walked into the room. Emma took survey of the space and could only think of one word. Decrepit. The single queen sized mattress central to the appeared appeared to be sinking into the floor. The wallpaper, which had probably once been white, were stained a faint yellow. A thick layer of cigarette smell hung in the room despite the ‘No Smoking’ sign that sat atop the tube tv in the corner. There was a single lamp in the room that provided the only light because the one window gave a fantastic view of a brick wall. It certainly was private.

 “I suppose if one was going to have an affair this would be the place.” Emma regarded, taking a few steps further into the room. Killian was already ahead of her, surveying the space. With each step he looked more and more disgusted. No doubt wondering why his father would have chosen this life apart from his mother.

 “They were happy once, you know.” He said after a long time, his hand shooting up to scratch behind his ear. “In love, even.”

 “I’m sure.” Emma tried to come off understanding. It never helped her faith in long term relationships when she knew of stories that ended like this. Not necessarily in murder but in the altogether loss of love for someone. So much so that you feel the only way out is to run off and fuck someone else.

 “Have you ever been in love?” he asked, turning his head toward her. He was across the room. His shoulder leaning against the wall, arms crossed in front.

 Emma thought back to the last time she had felt anything more than general boredom for the men she had dated. It felt like far too long ago. The way Neal had once looked at her, and it seemed like her heart would burst into flames if she had to go without him. That feeling had disappeared. And now when she looked at him she was just reminded of the pain that had come along with the loss of that feeling. Truly feeling like you could place your heart in that person’s hand and trust that they would do nothing but guard it. But that had been long gone. So instead, Emma put her walls up and left nothing to the imagination when she replied to Killian, “No. I have never been in love.”

 He didn’t fight her on it. Didn’t call her out. He took the lie with a grain of salt and continued the peruse the room. He was relatively quiet as he moved. Emma was unsure if it would be better to speak or to just let the silence wash over them. She chose the latter, thinking of what she would want if she were in his position. This dark and confusing man still so shattered by the demons haunting his past. Emma felt silly for even thinking there was something occurring Killian and his lawyer. There so clearly was not. There was nothing between he and anyone. He kept himself alone, save for the presence of his dog. His past far too damaging to proceed with someone new.

 “We can go anytime you like, Killian.” She said, not knowing what else to offer him. “There doesn’t seem to be anything else of value here.”

 “No. There doesn’t.” He looked around the room again before sitting down on the bed and placed his head in his hands, his dark hair peeking through the gaps between fingers. She wanted to offer some sort of comfort to him she really did. But there was nothing she felt she could do that would in any way be appropriate. So instead she settled for sitting on the edge of the grimy mattress next to him. There was more to this than the simple fact of his father’s affair. She knew that when she caught sight of his forearm, the black ink decorating it. She hadn’t noticed before. But now in the dim light of this shitty motel, his sleeve had fallen and she could see. A simple word in delicate script. Grace.

 “Your breakup, the one you rescued the dog after,” she started, remembering what he had said yesterday, knowing she was already walking on shaky ground. “Who was she?”

 He lifted his head up and looked at her, their faces now mere inches apart. Their shoulders were touching but neither one of them moved to correct it. “Someone from long ago.”

 “Grace?” Emma asked, pressing a bit. She recalled the name of the woman she had found in her research of him. The only real relationship the man had ever had. Wondering who this phantom woman was who seemingly made him whole for a time and then re-broke him again.

 “She’s gone.” He was still looking at her. He didn’t bother to ask how she had known the name of his ex-girlfriend. Emma did everything she could to not glance down at his lips, which were a hairsbreadth from her own. “For someone who’s never been in love you’re quite perceptive aren’t you?”

 Her voice was shaky as she looked at him. “Maybe I was. Once.”

   They left the motel, no more progress had been made since they arrived. Other than seeing the actual space where the affair had taken place. But Emma had the information from the computer and that was something she could work with. However unethical it may be. In the case of Killian, it had done more harm than good. Emma felt exceedingly guilty on the car ride back to town later in the day. The only proof he was next to her was when they both went to turn the AC down and reached for the knob at the same time. Their fingers simply grazing over one another but for a touch too long. Electricity shot through Emma. For the second time today. She didn’t bother to look over at him, not wanting to see that his face had returned to the usual smoldering stare he plastered on. When he didn’t want anyone to see beneath his facade. The facade Emma wanted to shatter with all of her might. Because underneath, he was decent to be around. Pleasant sometimes. And she liked that she had gotten to see glimpses of that man.

 “I have to go in and grab a few things. You can wait in the car if you want. It won’t take long.” She offered after she pulled into the parking lot of a nearby Target. Obviously it wasn’t the most convenient time for a trip to the store but they still had a ways to go before they reached Storybrooke and for fucks sake she needed out of the tension between she and Killian that had enveloped her car. She also needed groceries. More importantly the groceries.

 “It’s fine.” He seemed to be weighing his options in his head before saying. “I’ll come along.”

 Inside Emma made quick work of all of the things she needed to get. Mostly she just wanted to make sure Henry had food for breakfast this week when he returned from staying at his father’s. He had been buying breakfast at school and Emma felt like a shitty mother. As the basket grew heavier Killian offered to take it from her, one of the few things to come out of his mouth since leaving the motel. She began to protest then remembered her aching limbs and conceded. That doesn’t mean she wasn’t pissed off about it and he cracked a bit of a smile at her displeasure.

 In line to check out, Emma slid her things down the conveyer belt wanting this process to speed up as fast as it could. Killian had grabbed a few things; some milk, a bag of dogfood, Forbes magazine, and stuck them at the tail end of Emma’s items.

 A woman who appeared behind them in line had been eyeing Killian. There was a small part of Emma that was annoyed. A smart part that grew even larger when the woman had the audacity to place a plastic divider between Emma and Killian’s groceries. To include his in her own. She looked at the woman behind Killian, who was just smiling at him, incredulous at how bold this stranger had been. Granted, he was an attractive man. But still. The nerve.

 Emma was not entirely sure what came over her, perhaps she was inspired by the woman’s boldness to one up her. Emma took the plastic divider, looking the woman right in the eye, and placed it to include Killian’s things in her own again. She felt her face grow hot, flush creeping up her neck and onto her cheeks. She was almost entirely sure her face was a bright blush pink as it did when she was flustered. Jesus hopefully he didn’t notice. Before she could return to pay for their things she caught gazes with the man standing next to her. Blue eyes red rimmed with exhaustion but still gorgeous nonetheless. His eyebrows were raised in surprise. The whole exchange had occurred rather quickly but judging from the look on his face he had seen the entire thing.

 By the time they were back in the bug and on the road, neither one of them had said another word to each other. The silence hung thick. Again. They were both clearly thinking about what had happened in line. To Emma, it meant nothing. She wanted it to mean nothing. The wave of defensiveness that came over her was nothing more than a one time thing. Her knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. That’s all it was.

 When they pulled up to his hotel, no more conversation had passed between them. A combination of the events of today, their trip to Target of all places, and general exhaustion had gotten the better of them.

 “Thank you for bringing me along today. I know it didn’t go as you planned.” He started, gathering the grocery bag he had in the back seat. “And thank you for these.” He raised the red bullzeyed bag in front of her with a knowing smirk on his face.

 “Yeah well think of it as a thank you for the helpful information you’ve given me recently.” She could feel a smirk of her own working its way on to her face.

 “Of course, love. You aren’t the only one who wants answers.”

 “I will let you know if anything else comes up. But I’m back in the office Monday and I think Graham has already told your lawyer she wants you and Liam to come in.”

 “Graham?” his face looked a bit puzzled.

 “I mean… Detective Humbert. The man from Boston.” She covered. Perhaps she hadn’t indicated to Killian she was on a first name basis with the man. But then again why would she have needed to?  

 “I will see you then. Good night.” He was getting out of the car now, closing the door as she was just about to say good night he poked his head back in the open passenger side window. “Oh and Emma?”

 “Yes?”

 “Blush looks lovely on you.”

[paniccord-ff]

7. Part 3

This is driving me crazy, I can’t sit in this bed any longer. I am irritated, the only reason I am still in this bed is because Rylee said I had too but now she is gone, I think she has anyways “they finna discharge you or what? They said you ain’t got brain damage, you good” Mijo said as he sat back in a huff “you already annoyed? You have just come here, I don’t know when I am going to leave” shaking my head “it’s annoying me, I am going” I am about to get out of this bed “surprised you haven’t ran away yet” Mijo knows me so well but he doesn’t know that Rylee was looking after me, I slept well though “what can I say, but I am getting out” pushing the covers off me, the door opened “I know, I am going now anyway” Rylee spoke, quickly placing the covers on me “the fuck?” Mijo spat pointing at me, why is Daniel here “hope you wasn’t trying to leave” Rylee said, I grinned “no, just you know stretching my legs” I lied to her “yeah yeah whatever” Mijo gawked at both Rylee and I “are you her partner? Why you come for? You want to change me?” I said to Daniel, he looked at me in shock but I don’t care because I don’t like this nigga sniffing around my girl “wow, what is wrong with you?” Mijo said, looking over at Rylee “Daniel, can you do me a favour and get his tablets for me, he will be leaving anyways” I don’t think Rylee is best pleased with me “why don’t you get me some water” I said to Mijo, I want to speak to Rylee real quick before I go.

I have no idea why Rylee is pretending to put gloves on “what you finna do with them on huh?” I questioned, Rylee turned around “time for your internal sir” she said with a smirk, my mouth fell open “woah, Rylee. Oh shit” I am drooling “you can’t do this to me, fuck. You already look sexy” she threw the glove at me “whatever, I am so tired. I am going now anyways” catching the glove “what, no. Don’t go, what about me?” she can’t leave me like this “Chris, I done spent all last night with you, I have to go home. I have not slept either” reaching over and grabbing her hand “take me home please” Rylee furrowed her eyebrows at me “I have stayed here longer than I should, look at me. I am so tired, you have your friend here to take you home anyways” she don’t look tired to me “I don’t care, I just want you to take me home, come on Rylee. I enjoy you so much, I will let you give me an internal?” she snatched her hand away from me “I am not driving you, I don’t think I will get away with it” I sighed out “just drop me off at home, come on Rylee” she waved me off walking off “I will tell Mijo to go then, see you soon babe” I will get my way.

Placing the hood over my head, I got my own way and Rylee is driving me. I have to go to the car park as I promised her, I know she likes me and I know she finds me annoying but she loves it. Rylee doesn’t understand how much I like her, shit is deep. I can’t get her off my mind, I just enjoy her company. She is random too, she is just like me but I need to spend more time with her. I just wish I wasn’t famous, I could be normal with her. I could be just me without all the stories, standing behind the group of people waiting to get on the elevator. The elevator doors finally opened, I can feel people staring at me but I have got one thing on my mind, which is to get to Rylee.

Looking around the car park, where the hell is she with her car. Jumping at the honking as she drove towards me, she rolled her window down “you look lost, need a ride?” she said smiling, Rylee said she was tired but clearly she got jokes and is not tired at all “yeah yeah, I want to see how you drive” walking around her car, this is a nice ass car though. Closing the car door “nice car for you” she threw her bag onto the backseat “well, I use my brother’s cars too. But this is mine, you really like my car?” moving the seat back “yeah, it’s good. I wonder if you can handle a Lamborghini though, I will let you drive my car one-time” putting my seatbelt on “thank you, I don’t think I will be able too. I wouldn’t even try that” looking around the interior, this girl is a mess “you a mess though, don’t you clean” Rylee stared at me “you can leave my car if you complaining” I snorted “I am scared you going to kill me, come on woman. Drive!” I spat, I love annoying her so much.

I am just so happy to be out of hospital, Rylee is a good driver “can I hire you? I want you to be my driver, just stay sexy and drive me” seeing Rylee’ phone in the cup holder, reaching over but she slapped my hand away “why is Daniel texting you?” I don’t like him, why is he around “because he can” that is not even an answer “hmmm sure, can we go to Subway? I am so hungry, please don’t do me like this” I am pushing it but I am forreal hungry “you didn’t feed me in the hospital” she keep giving me stank looks but she never fed me “feed you? What am I? Your mother, I was just supporting a friend” poking my lips out, she always gotta say that “then why did you drive me? Why you letting me get close just for you to say friend?” Rylee stopped at the red light “Chris, I have told you this so many times. Just chill, why can’t we just get to know each other” looking out of the window, we can get to know each other and be together.

My smile grew at Rylee parking up in front of a Subway, she don’t like upsetting me, I like this “you didn’t have too” I finally spoke after the long silence in the car “you sure about that? You had such a face on with me, I will go in. What would you like?” patting my pants “uhm maybe some air cause that is free, shit. I ain’t got my money with me” how embarrassing “now you want me to pay? You broke ass” I have never been called such a thing “I will pay but you owe me” she reached behind my seat, getting so close to me “I am speechless, you called me broke ass” I feel bad now “don’t bother, you shouldn’t pay. I can eat at home” Rylee scoffed “just tell me what you want, stay in this car. I can’t deal with your fans. It’s nothing Chris” can I marry this woman, I want that.

If he gets noticed I will be so annoyed, I have not slept and I have Chris Brown in my car. He honestly gets his own way all the time, what can I say. Dragging open my car door “here” holding the bag out for him to take and then crouched down “your drink sir, anything else?” I asked “you get me cookies too?” he asked “yeah I did, near costing me more than I usually pay” getting inside my car “I am usually in bed now, you know what. You probably won’t see or hear from me for two days. I will be sleeping for a while” is he really eating in my car “Chris, please eat after” I said, he shook his head “your car is a mess anyways, I am hungry” there is no winning with him, let me call Nathan back before I start driving. Pressing my phone to my ear as it rang out “where you at? It’s going to be afternoon soon” of course he knows my day “I am coming, just Bailey needed me. See you soon” I don’t want to speak to them, disconnecting the call “your brother?” Chris mumbled with a mouthful of food, I nodded.

I am going to speak to my dad, I am going to get his permission to move. I will just say they are constantly smoking weed, which will work “you want some?” Chris asked, looking to the side of me as he broke some of the cookie. It is the cutest thing to see, I don’t know why he looked so cute at that moment “no thank you” Chris and his home in the Hollywood hills, such annoying roads “so you was saying, I won’t see or hear from you? That is a little rude” hearing Chris say, if I can get this move done with the two days I have off, well at least find a place “Yo, Ry!” feeling him poke me “huh?” looking at the side of me “you hear me?” blinking at him “oh yeah, I just need to catch up with sleep. A little me time” I need a little me time to be honest “I know you tired but something is up, I am here for you too” smiling a little “just thinking of moving, anyways how did you get rid of your friend? He was going to take you home” turning off onto Chris’ drive, Chris’ cars fill it so I don’t have anywhere to park really “I said someone else is coming, they listen to me” I generally get the feeling Chris gets his own way all the time.

Holding out Chris’ medication “make sure you take them, I don’t want to see you in the hospital again” I hope he uses his brain and just does this himself “cool” taking the medication from me “come inside, nobody is home. Least walk me inside” he is such a big baby “I don’t know how you do it, I am so tired. I look disgusting and you are asking to come into your home, I rather not. I am trying to not have a mental breakdown at the fact I have you in my car, the fact I have not had slept, I look bad!” I spat, Chris stared at me and then broke into a fit of laughter. Shit is not even funny “you done?” he said, I haven’t even started “you said you moving?” I need to bribe Chris into getting out of the car “I will explain when I am less tired, if I walk you to the door will you stop? Nobody is home right?” he is so lucky that I do like him “nobody is here, you can sleep here if you like?” smiling as I opened the car door.

Chris pressed his body behind me, pushing me inside his home “I told you! Stop it!” I yelped, why is he doing this “Christopher is that you? Baby” I froze hearing a lady’ voice “woah, mom” Chris said behind me, my mouth fell open “oh my baby, he is home” moving out of the way and behind Chris, he said nobody was supposed to be here. If I leave now I will look so rude “yeah mom, what are you doing here?” he seems a little shocked “my son was in hospital, I came here for you” why did this have to happen now, I want to hide “who is this girl behind you” I have my uniform on and I look a mess “oh it’s Rylee, Rylee this is my mom” Chris introduced us, oh god. I am dying “hi Mrs Brown” I cringed at myself, is that her name. Oh my god, did I get it wrong “call me Joyce, such a sweetheart” I am sweating, I feel it.

I have now met his mother looking like this, I need to go “I am just going to go now, nice meeting you Joyce” waving at her, let me run. Turning around, speed walking out of here “hold up ma, I will be back. Rylee, let me speak to you one minute” I am irritated already, I won’t snap. Reaching the outside finally “Rylee, I just want to say thank you for everything. Thank you for sticking by me, thank you for spending time with me in that place too” turning around to face him “it’s ok, I enjoyed myself. I just need some sleep, I will be less moody” moving my head back as Chris bought his hand up to my face “you have an eyelash on your cheek” he said before I let him even touch my face “look” he showed me before blowing it away “erm, call me I guess. I am always free for you” he doesn’t know what to say “Chris, you can call me. When I get home I will be asleep so don’t worry, you think too much. Just relax, I am not going to find another man within a day. Just don’t worry” he worries too much “I can’t believe I met your mom though, ugh! I hate myself, everything happens to me but anyways. Talk soon, be good” I am going to think about this for a while now.