Fluent Freshman - Part 22

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Y’know how sometimes you have something that you need to do or something that you know is going to happen but you just keep…putting it off? Like you know at some point it is going to happen but you put it off over and over and over and over again? You’re getting increasingly anxious every time you put it off because you know it has to get done but you also know that the longer you wait the worse it is going to get. Finally, FINALLY, the anxiety is just a little too much and you end up having to deal with it.

You finally deal with it and the whole ordeal takes maybe five minutes tops and it was in no way shape or form worth the level of anxiety that you put yourself through. Like you worried about this for a good and long while and it wasn’t even that bad?

That is currently how FF feels about being stabbed by Andrew Minyard.

This is what he was so worried about that he had lost sleep, had nightmares, had lost weight, and had exacerbated his stress ulcers over.

Getting stabbed wasn’t anywhere near as bad as he had thought it was going to be. Maybe it was the fact that it was just a single stab wound instead of the Psycho levels that he had been imagining (Wow, showers were going to be so much less stressful now that he didn’t have to confirm Andrew Minyard’s location before triple checking the lock). Maybe it was the fact that he is PUMPED full of adrenaline from his fights against Jackson and Romero but the stab wound didn’t even really hurt at the moment.

This isn’t even the worse thing that had happened to him this year!

That honor still goes to the joint winners of when his Step Family and mother found out that he had a full-ride to Palmetto and when he had tripped up the same step on the stairs at school three times in a row as people watched and laughed.

(Maybe also the solitary congratulations from his Grandma in regards to his graduation but FF doesn’t let himself think about that, won’t think about it.)

He wouldn’t necessarily call being in a state of ‘stabbed’ a pleasant time but Andrew was being so NICE about it.

“Stop trying to sit up you fucking idiot!” Andrew shouts at him.

Well….Andrew’s version of nice.

(This is the same version of nice that he had misunderstood for months at this point. Maybe FF is just enough in shock from the stab wound in his stomach that he’s starting to grasp the basics in the difficult language of Andrew Minyard’s niceness.)

Andrew had gotten off the phone with 911 and then started pulling off his own jacket before draping it over FF’s upper body, wedging his phone between his shoulder and his ear, and then Andrew started to apply pressure to his stomach wound.

Ow.

That is not a great feeling. This stabbing may eke out past the great triple trip of March 2010.

“No, take back your jacket. You’ll get cold if you don’t have it on.” FF argues because his own jacket is barely doing the job. Maybe it’s the cold pavement of the alley, maybe it’s the blood loss, or maybe it’s the cooling sweat he’d worked up but he is shivering pretty badly.

A thought occurs to him as he feels the weird wet stickiness of his own blood sticking to Nicky’s shirt. “Can you help me get my jacket off?” He asks looking pleadingly at Andrew, “It’s my dad’s. I don’t wanna mess it up with my blood.” He clarifies when Andrew looks at him like he’s a lunatic.

Except his second call must connect right then because Andrew’s answer is non-sensical to what FF had asked, “Neil, let Roland know the police and ambulances are en route.” There’s a brief pause and the pressure against his stomach increases as a muscle in Andrew’s jaw jumps. “Smith got stabbed.” He says and he looks angry, angrier than FF had ever seen Andrew when he’s talking to Captain Neil. There is another pause, more than likely Neil saying something or asking a question, “No, it wasn’t them.” Andrew grits out and the pressure on FF’s stomach hurts, “Just get out here, I need help with smith and making sure these two assholes don’t go anywhere before the police come and grab them.” He says before he pulls one hand away from Smith’s stomach (wow he really is bleeding isn’t he?) to hang up the phone.

Andrew’s gaze turns back to him fully, “You’re not moving an inch Smith, your jacket can be cleaned.” He hisses. “Now stay still and don’t fall asleep.” He orders.

Andrew seems stressed so FF complies. He can’t help but notice how Andrew’s hands seem to be shaking as the press down on his stomach. He kind of wishes he had a pillow or something for his head because he’s starting to feel a little dizzy. Andrew’s jacket would be safer from his blood if it was a pillow instead of a blanket. Still, FF would sooner die than spit on any of Andrew’s current efforts to make him more comfortable.

He looks at the knife sticking out of his stomach. Well, he might die regardless of whether or not he spits on Andrew’s efforts.

He needs to take his mind off this.

“Should we take it out and pretend the Dundee knife stabbed me instead??” FF asks letting his mind go to the first thought in his head so that he could be distracted from his own mortality. “I think it’s still under the dumpster over there.” He moves to point one of his hands towards where the knife had remained throughout this entire ordeal.

Andrew’s knee pinned his arm before he could move it, “Stop moving Smith.” Andrew reminded him before moving his knee. “We have to leave the knife in. You’ll bleed to death otherwise.” Andrew reminds.

“I guess that’s true, so do we just say that Romero got a handle on your knife and stabbed me?” He asks fighting his own shivers since he’s a little worried that any shaking on his part would just make the stab wound worse.

“I stabbed you Smith.” Andrew says looking at him with a furrowed brow.

“Yeah, I know,” FF agrees, “but we’re not going to say THAT to the cops.” He says and shock really is one HELL of a drug because he thinks he might have actually given Andrew Minyard an incredulous look with his atrophied face muscles. It’s either Shock or the knowledge that even if he irritates Andrew, what’s Andrew going to do about it?

STAB HIM?

“You’re going to lie to the cops?” Andrew asks, “I STABBED you Smith.” Andrew repeats.

“Yeah, I know!” FF repeats back, “You stabbed me on ACCIDENT.” FF makes sure to use the same intonation that Andrew had used to emphasize the word Stabbed. “Jackson wanted to stab me on PURPOSE. You saw that knife Andrew.” He tries to gesture towards the knife again but again Andrew’s knee pinned his hand.

He could use his other one but the reminder to stay still is enough.

“I still stabbed you.” Andrew says removing his knee again when it’s clear that FF wasn’t going to try and gesture again.

“Well, if I was going to get stabbed by anyone, I guess I’m glad my first time was with you.” Andrew let’s out a bark of a laugh that sounds more like it was punched out of him than anything, “Honestly, I don’t think Jackson would have given me his jacket afterwards or try and help me keep my blood in my body.” He says and it feels like a victory (not a both hands in the air victory cry level victory but it was close) when Andrew’s face settled into one of faint amusement.

“Probably not.” Andrew agreed, “He doesn’t seem big on Aftercare.” He says.

FF doesn’t know what that means but nods like he does, “So, Romero got a hold of your knife during our tussle and he’s the one who stabbed me. Okay? That’s the story I’m going to stick with no matter who asks me.” He looks Andrew in the eye.

“Alright Smith,” one of Andrew’s hands leaves his stomach and clasps around his shoulder and FF can’t help but notice how neither of Andrew’s hands are shaking anymore. “We can lie to the police.” He squeezes FF’s shoulder.

“Nice.” He says and lets his head fall back onto the concrete. He hears a siren in the distance and hopes it’s coming for him.

They sit in silence for maybe 30 seconds before the door slams open and only Andrew’s hands on his stomach and shoulder keep him from shooting straight up in a panic. Captain Neil seemed to take in the scene at lightning speed but it was Andrew who spoke first, “You left Aaron and Nicky with Roland?” He asks.

“Yeah I did,” Captain Neil confirms and FF can see the moment that his eyes land on the knife handle jutting out of FF’s stomach, “Andrew, what are we going to tell the police?” Captain Neil asks and FF could already see Neil crafting a lie to cover Andrew. That’s one of the things that FF likes about Captain Neil and Andrew’s relationship. He thinks it’s nice that both of them have someone who no matter the circumstances would be there with a shovel to help bury a body. He even thought it was nice when he thought it’d be his body!

“The second guy stabbed me.” The lie comes out smoothly which is good because he is planning on committing to it and Captain Neil blinks and looks at him, “He got hold of Andrew’s knife during the tussle.” He adds.

Captain Neil looks to Andrew, “You said it wasn’t-“

“I guess Smith can lie to a liar.” Andrew interrupts.

Captain Neil’s eyes widen before a wicked grin spread across his face that made FF just a little uncomfortable but only because Andrew’s grip on his shoulder suddenly tightened and his nostrils flared the way they did before the two usually started speaking in Russian.

He can handle being stabbed, he cannot handle being in shock and pretending that he doesn’t know what the two of them are saying to one another.

“Can you tell Nicky I’m sorry I got blood on his clothes?” He asks and both Captain Neil and Andrew’s gaze snap away from eye-fucking each other. He looks down and the clothes are black and they haven’t moved the knife so the wound is plugged still but yeah there’s definitely blood seeping into the shirt, not to mention the hole. “Could you tell him I’m sorry about that?” He asks.

“You are going to tell him yourself Smith.” Andrew hisses, “You are going to be fine. Do you understand me?” He asks before turning to Neil, “Can you bunch your jacket under his legs, it’s better to keep them higher than his head and heart?” He asks.

Aw.

Andrew is just so nice.

He can’t BELIEVE he thought Andrew wanted to hunt him for sport.

He’d apologize for thinking that but he thinks it’d be better to just let that particular misunderstanding go unmentioned.

Captain Neil bunches his jacket up and puts it under FF’s legs before he goes over to check on Romero and Jackson. In the corner of his eye he sees Captain Neil pause at the sight of Romero before moving over to Jackson.

“Why is he in these?!” Neil asks baffled.

“It’s a weird sex alley Captain Neil! I don’t know WHAT to tell you!” Yeah he’s definitely going into shock. The sirens are getting closer though so he’ll probably be okay.

***

The cops all have a bit of a laugh about Jackson’s cuffs until Neil tells them exactly who they are taking into custody. Neil could admit that he’s a little irritated with Andrew that at no point did the man clarify that the people who FF and Andrew were dealing with were Romero and Jackson.

Those are his father’s goons.

“They were here for me.” Neil says to the police officer and Andrew’s hand tightens in his, “They tried to take Smith because he’s my friend.”

They had decided on their story before the cops came. FF had no idea who any of these people were and was just defending himself. He’d gone out to catch his breath in the alley when Jackson had shown up. Neil had asked how in the world FF had handled Jackson on his own but FF must have been getting kind of loopy from blood loss because all he said was, “He told me to sing so I did.”

Neil can find out the full story later.

The important part is.

“Jackson went after Smith but Smith won the fight.” Neil says looking at where the cops are trying to decide how to get the fuzzy pink handcuffs off of Jackson to get him in the far more secure police issued handcuffs.

“Your friend said that you and he took out Romero together. That Romero is the one who stabbed him with your knife.” He says.

“Yes.” Andrew answers simply and Neil squeezes his hand as a reminder, “I went out to grab a smoke and Romero followed after me. Romero got hold of one of my knives in the struggle and stabbed Smith.” Andrew says with his usual deadpan affect.

“Yeah that’s what your friend Smith was saying too.” The officer says. “Well, I’m sure the FBI will want to talk to you all further but for now it’s a pretty clear cut case of self defense and no one but your friend has any serious injuries.” The officer pats Neil on the shoulder and Neil manages not to shirk away from the touch. The officer retracts his hand, “You guys are free to go tonight.” He says and turns back towards the car where a dazed Romero is in the back seat.

“Where did they take Smith?” Andrew asks since they’d been shepherded away from Smith the moment the ambulance had come. They hadn’t been able to ask which hospital Smith was going to be taken to so they could go and get updates.

“Lexington.” The cop answers, “Go on and see your friend. He seemed pretty loopy he kept talking about some beauty contest thing when he was getting loaded into the ambulance. I’m sure he’ll be a riot on painkillers.” The cop goes for a joke but it twists something in Neil’s stomach to think of FF so out of it that he’s talking nonsensically.

He feels Andrew’s hand stiffen in his and knows he’s not alone.

“Thanks.” Neil says before they head towards the front of the club. The club had been emptied out when the cops had come so Roland was babysitting Aaron and Nicky for them while they talked to the cops and FF was loaded out to the hospital.

In a way it’s almost a blessing that Nicky and Aaron are both so blasted that they aren’t comprehending any of what’s going on. They’ll have to drop them off back at the house before they go to the hospital. They’ll beat Wymack there easily even after the interrogation and drop off.

FF had asked them to call Wymack to let him know what was going on “I gave him the rights to make health care decisions for me if I’m incapacitated.” FF had said so Neil texts Wymack the hospital and the address after Andrew rattles it off for him.

“I don’t like that you hid it from me.” Neil says in the car.

“They wanted to kill you.” Andrew won’t apologize.

They still hold hands on the drive back to the Columbia house.

Andrew takes care of getting Aaron into bed while Neil helps Nicky.

Nicky who looks at Neil with a loopy smile and Neil hurts knowing that tomorrow when Nicky finds out about tonight and how he was too blasted to do anything to help FF.

Andrew and Neil reconvene in the Maserati and make their way to the hospital before either of them realize the issue.

“What is the name of the patient you’re looking for an update on?” The receptionist asks.

Both Andrew and Neil freeze.

Fuck.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

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The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

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Triple Threat: A Stones Triplet Fic

Fandoms: Leverage/Leverage Redemption, Librarians, and Almost Paradise Cross-Posted: Ao3 and FF Summary: So I shared some ideas about this fic here, not intending to actually write it. And then people asked for it and I have zero self control, so here you go!

A simple smuggling case. That was all this was supposed to be—just a smuggler looking to set up shop on the island, some place where he'd be able to store and ferry goods to the United States without attracting too much attention. Kai expected to wrap up the case in a couple of days, without Alex's help.

Of course it never works out that way.

She's used to Alex interfering with her cases, but she didn't even tell him about this one. So how did he end up with the smuggler she was supposed to be meeting, and why doesn't the seem to know her?

Or: Eliot and Jake are both in the Philippines for separate jobs that turn out to be related. Kai takes the existence of Alex's brothers as a personal attack on her mental health. Ernesto happily goes along for the ride.

Chapter One: Déjà Vu

A simple smuggling case. That was all this was supposed to be—just a smuggler looking to set up shop on the island, some place where he'd be able to store and ferry goods to the United States without attracting too much attention. Ocampo hadn't even asked Alex for help, even though they suspected drugs were involved. "We need more information," Ocampo told Kai. "Just meet with him and see what you can find out." No need to involve the most annoying man on the island.

Kai didn't tell Alex about any of it. It was only the third time Ocampo trusted her to go undercover, and though she wasn't above using Alex's help when it was necessary, this was something she could handle on her own. Ernesto would be monitoring the meeting from nearby, ready to come to her aid, but she was confident in her skills. It was a simple case. She could handle it.

She made contact with the smuggler, telling him she could get a cargo plane for his use and ensure the attention of the authorities was elsewhere when he was ready to load it. The meeting had gone well, well enough that he asked her to join him in his hotel room the following day to hash out the details. Ocampo had been thrilled, and she'd gotten the proud grin from Ernesto that always made her feel like she could take on the world. "Wrap this up, Detective," Ocampo said, already planning the press release for the end of the case. One more meeting, and it would all be over. A swift ending to a simple case.

The next morning she found the hotel fifteen minutes before their appointed time and knocked on door 211, letting herself in when a voice yelled, "We're on the balcony." The we made her nervous, but she told herself it didn't matter. Once she found out what the cargo was, she'd have enough to arrest him.

But then she walked onto the balcony and found her contact raising a toast to Alex Walker, and it took all of her self-control not to break character and strangle him right there.

The smuggler stood up with a grin. "Ah, Ms. Navarro," he said, motioning for her to be seated next to Alex. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No," she choked out. "Thank you."

He shrugged and swept his hand toward Alex. "This is my American contact, Marc Rosen. Mr. Rosen, my associate Nicole Navarro."

Alex gave her a polite smile, and his eyes seemed to laugh at her.

"Mr. Flores," she said tersely. "I thought we'd agreed to keep this meeting between us."

Robert Flores shrugged and again gestured to the chair beside Alex. "I assure you, Mr. Rosen is essential to this operation. He has already arranged a buyer in the United States. All we need from you, Ms. Navarro, is to follow through on your promise with the planes."

Kai sat, forcing her tensed shoulders to relax. "The flight is already secured," she said. "But I need to know what it is I'll be transporting."

Flores smiled. "All in good time."

"Time is the problem," Kai said. "We only have three days before the plane is scheduled to depart, with or without your cargo. I can't prepare properly until I know what we'll be loading."

"I will take care of that. Three days is plenty of time."

"Then... once you've made your payment, I will tell you where to bring your cargo." She managed this with only a single glance (not a glare) at Alex, who had returned his attention to Flores. A sand-colored fedora was pulled low over Alex's eyes, shading a face that seemed paler than usual. In an instant her irritation turned to worry. Did he know Flores from his time as a DEA agent? Had he arranged the meeting, or had Flores contacted him?

Why couldn't he just tell her before he did stupid things like this?

"I am glad to hear it," Flores said. He was still standing, and Kai bristled at the imbalance—he towered over them in a position of power while they literally sat in his shadow. "Mr. Rosen was just telling me that his buyer is anxious to get his hands on this shipment."

Alex huffed a nervous laugh. "Well, you know how it is when the guy in the big office wants something. Patience ain't exactly a virtue for my boss."

"Luckily for you, I have what he needs," Flores said, lifting his glass with a chuckle.

"Is that Alex?" Ernesto asked through her earbud. "What's he doing there?"

Kai chanced another glance at him, wishing she could reach over and wring the answer from his throat. His body language was all wrong. His shoulders were drawn in, the fingers of his left hand fidgeting against his palm. His voice had been different too—almost hesitant, self-depreciating. Usually Alex played a loud character, brash and confident, always pushing to keep his mark off-balance. This... this was just another pencil-pusher running an errand for his boss. Insignificant. Overlookable.

And it was working. A hard, greedy glint flashed in Flores's eye as he swallowed the rest of his drink, his gaze lingering on the trembling glass in Alex's hand. "Well," he grinned. "There is much to be done. Wait here. Your payment is in my adjoining room." He set his glass down on the balcony railing and strode into the hotel room. Kai watched him go, but as soon as the door closed she rounded on Alex.

"I'm going to give you ten seconds to explain yourself."

He blinked at her. "What?"

"Why are you here? Did Ocampo tell you about the case? Did Flores contact you?"

"Did—what? Why would—?"

"Or do you just like messing with my life? Because I swear, Alex, when this is over I'm—"

The hallway door opened before she could finish, and two men in black jackets entered the room. Neither of them was Flores. "Your payment," one said, holding out an envelope.

"Oh... thank you." She stood and entered the room, aware of Alex trailing behind her. He stepped to her left, covering her weak side as she reached out for the payment.

But the second her fingers brushed the envelope, Alex flashed past her to strike the back of the man's outstretched elbow. He screamed, staggering, and Alex pulled him away from Kai and hurled him toward the wall. The other man lunged into the room, but Alex met him with a neat punch to the jaw. He dodged a swing and caught the man's wrist, bashing his elbow into the side of his face. The first man had regained his balance by then, steadying himself against the wall before squaring himself to the fight.

That was when Kai reached him. His attention was on Alex, so it was easy for her to get close and grab his forearm. She drove her knee into the man's stomach, using the momentum of his fall to throw him to the ground. She turned as Alex ducked another jab and slammed his fist into his opponent's cheek. The man dropped, sprawling at Alex's feet and lying motionless.

"What the hell was that?" Kai demanded, stomping down on her man's back to keep him on the floor.

"Kai?" Ernesto said in her ear. "Everything okay?"

Alex knelt to pick up the envelope. "They were gonna kill us."

"He was handing over the payment!"

He tilted his hand so she could see inside the empty envelope. "Flores knew you were coming," he said, running his hands over his fallen opponent's waist and producing a long serrated knife. "He should have had the payment ready."

Damn it—she hated when he was right.

"He must have guessed you're a cop," Alex went on, taking off his hat and dragging a hand through his hair. "Probably one of your first undercover assignments? You know what you're doing, I'll give you that, but you pushed too hard for the cargo. You have to let the mark think he's in control."

"What are you...?" Kai started, but she trailed off when Alex put his hand down. Freed from the hat, his hair fell over his forehead and down around his ears, long enough to brush his shoulders. "Are you wearing a wig?"

"Am—am I—?" he sputtered. "Look, I don't know who you think I am, but—" He broke off, eyes widening. "Wait, you called me Alex before. Alex Stone?"

All at once, her vision seemed to shift. The man before her had Alex's face, but now that she looked closer, she could see a handful of inconsistencies. A scar over his eyebrow that hadn't been there before, a leanness about his jaw, a shadow she'd never seen in his eyes. Ernesto kept talking through the earbud, but she was only half-listening.

She stared into the face of her friend, and a stranger looked back.

The door burst open, breaking the tension that had paralyzed the room and tearing Not Alex's attention from her. Ernesto came in with his gun drawn, not quite pointing at the imposter, but not aimed at the men who'd attacked them either.

"Your partner?" asked Not Alex. His voice was calm, but so gruff she could barely understand it. She motioned for Ernesto to put his gun away. He swept a shrewd look over her, checking for injuries, and then knelt beside her man on the floor and pulled a pair of handcuffs off his belt.

The imposter cleared his throat. "Do you know Alex Stone?"

For a moment Kai considered lying, but the sharpness in Not Alex's eyes had softened. The look he gave her wasn't quite pleading, but it was clearly a request. She heard the please in his eyes as clearly as if he'd said it out loud.

So, in a voice that sounded more confident than she felt, she answered, "Alex Walker."

A snort of laughter blew through the imposter's nose. "Walker? He could have picked anything, and he went with Walker? At least I used a family name."

"No," Ernesto said to himself, shooting Kai with a look that somehow contained astonishment, delight, and trepidation all at once.

Kai echoed the denial in her head. This couldn't be happening.

"My name is Eliot," the other man said.

Don't say it. Don't—

"I'm Alex's brother."

No. No no no no no.

There were two of them.

Inked

Still on hiatus. But I found an old piece of writing and I revamped it just a smidge! It was originally published in 2018 on calumh-excess. Which is now deactivated. Hooray for finding pieces!

Calum's been watching Jay for a while. She's cute, talented, but a bit of mystery. Should he really give into her? What will it take for him to admit he has a crush?

Enjoy my masterlist (on hiatus)

______________

He watched her sometimes for far too long. The way her tongue stuck out as she pulled the skin and her hand worked steadily with the needle made it hard for him to resist. Her face always seemed to catch the harsh fluorescent lights and reflect it back so that it twinkled against her skin. A slight sheen, but nothing just of ethereal. He wasn’t even interested in any new ink, not seriously anyway. He had slowed on the ink train, but the shop his tattoo artist owned was a nice place to hang out sometimes. When he wanted to get out of his house but didn’t want to actually go somewhere, he could hang out here, listening to the buzz of the tattoo gun, poke his hand at trying a design here or there. They weren't great. He hadn't considered him this kind of artist, but the shop felt like a second home.

Besides, having her around was a more than welcomed bonus.

He wasn’t even sure what it was about her. She showed up about a year and a half ago, under an apprenticeship. Calum’s artist was unsure of her, much like everyone else that asked to work under him. A hazard of the job, according to the job, according to Calum's artist. However, her drawings spoke volumes; the colors and line work were impeccable. She had talent and knew it without being cocky about it. Well, sometimes she wasn’t. Calum watched her run into the occasional asshole that tried to belittle her; she always put her foot down in those situations. He didn’t fault her.

Today’s no different. When Calum walks in, he greets the guy at the front desk, eyes searching for her. He spots her in the back with her oversized frames creating a small glare over her brown eyes. He never quite got the appeal of the grandma-shaped glasses trend, but on her, they worked. She looked wise but soft. The glass pulled him in, felt like she was seeing into his soul. Maybe she was; maybe the pain made people more vulnerable than they anticipated--entrusting someone, a stranger in some ways, to permanently mark you and not fuck it up. Whatever the reason, looking at her felt timeless. Like she had seen it all, and you are just waiting for you to spill all the secrets.

“You finally going to get some new ink?” Calum’s artist teases.

Calum shakes his head, turning his attention away from her. “You finally took her training wheels off?”

“Your girlfriend’s got mad skills. I couldn’t baby her forever. Jay works hard on each piece, learned fast. Got a steady ass hand and pretty gentle for handling a needle.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, because you haven’t hardly even talked to her. Go for it, you wuss. What’s the worst she says? No?”

Calum exhales a chuckle. "I mean, the worst she stabs me with the tattoo gun. But considering the ink I'm already sporting, I doubt that's really all that bad.”

“Jay would not do that unless you asked for it, ff course. But really, go on, ask her out.”

Calum glances back at Jay. It’s a nickname. No one in the shop calls her by her full name. The only reason Calum heard it was when a client came asking for her. Jay was quick to correct them.

She wipes, clearing excess ink, before dipping back into the small cup. Jay smiles up at her client. Calum's sure they appreciate the reprise. Getting tattoos weren't always fun, but bearable enough to forget about it and get more.

Calum turns his gaze away. “I recommended you to a friend,” he says, hoping that he’ll escape the teasing. It’s not likely to happen. But at least he tries to minimize the ridicule.

"I appreciate it. Are they a first-timer?"

"A second-timer, but they're visiting town and want some new ink. I figured best not to fuck them over."

The two men laugh before Calum's escorted back to look through some new designs. Just in case something sparks his interest. Calum's visit is supposed to be short, but there's not much else on his to-do list for the day. He could kill a few hours here.

When Calum comes out from the back, after spending too much time pretending art was ever a talent of his, he looks for Jay again. She’s not in her corner, nor is she at the front. Calum shrugs, figuring she might have gone for lunch, or home depending.

As Calum walks to his car, he checks his phone. Nothing major's happened.

“Leaving so soon?” A voice states. Calum knows that voice, a little gravelly, mostly sweet. He’s dreamt of it every so often. He prays to hear it when he visits the shop.

He turns to Jay, who leans against the bricks. A vape is wrapped in her fingers. “Gotta get some dinner, maybe make a run to the grocery store," Calum returns. "I've gotten lazy."

She nods. “This reminds me that I can't survive off BLTs forever," she laughs.

"You could try, but I think you'd need other vegetables and some fruit in that mix too."

She pushes up on her glass with a nod. "Ah, yes, gotta get the whole food pyramid." It goes silent between them and Calum gives another nod, raising a few fingers to signal his departure while still keeping his phone in a secure enough grip.

"Hey, wait!" Jay calls out again, taking a half step forward. Calum turns to her. "Can I give you something before you leave?”

Calum nods, not trusting his voice. What would she give him? She nods back to the front door, taking back that initial half-step. “It's inside. Give me like two minutes.”

She disappears inside and Calum stands, his phone still in his hands, staring at the spot she once stood. Just as quickly as she disappeared, Jay reappears. In hand is her portfolio. She flips through before stopping and slides the heavy-duty drawing paper out.

Calum stares down at the green and black drawing. It’s his face, for the most part, that stares back at him. It’s distorted by a crystal ball that glows green. Inside are some instruments and something else, but right now he can’t really put it all together. His eyes keep moving over the lightning bolt, the crystal ball, the uncanniness of his face on a piece of paper, his three-dimensional face somehow translated perfectly into a 2-D space.

“Holy shit, this is amazing,” he breathes. “Thank you,” he says looking back up to her.

She shrugs with a smile. “You’re welcome.”

“Seriously, this is so fucking awesome. I’m going to frame it,” he gushes. He’s too excited to be nervous, or be embarrassed. "What are the dimensions?"

“I'm just really glad you don’t find it too creepy. I was watching you a couple weeks ago when you stopped by. It just sort hit me, the image of the crystal ball and lightning bolt; I had to draw it,” Jay elaborates. "And it's 8.5 by 11--standard printer paper size."

Calum shakes his head, staring over the drawing again. It feels so delicate suddenly in his hands. It’s almost like Jay recognizes the change in his handling. She shuffles her load in her hands and pulls out an empty plastic over. “Here,” she laughs handing it over. “So it doesn’t smudge or anything if you're worried."

Calum slides it in. “Thank you. Again. Seriously.”

“You’re welcome, Calum. Good luck with your grocery store trip and dinner,” Jay nods and then heads back inside. Calum watches the way the denim stretches across her hips, the way her hair billows just a little in the breeze of her strut.

For a moment, Calum can't move. The weight of the paper in his hand is hardly ounces, but it holds him--traps him to the point of the sidewalk. Jay thought enough of him to draw him. What did it all mean? Should he have found the courage to ask her out? He could walk back inside. But what if she didn't like him like that? Would it be too weird?

Calum blinks up into the hardly settling sun and thinks to himself, the second he can come back here, it better be with a bit more courage and possibly a gift certificate. No one can be made about free food, right?

It’s months before Calum can visit the shop again. The tour is a whirlwind and he only gets a few days off between legs. Not long enough to get back home or feel like he had any energy to drive out to the shop. But now that he's settled back in at home, he knows exactly where he's going.

It’s not his typical practice to just walk in and ask for a tattoo. But given the ink already on him, worse things could happen. When he pulls open the door, he notices it's kind of slow. Jay greets him at the front desk. “Hey, stranger,” she grins.

“Hey, how are you?” he asks in return.

“Pretty good. How was it? The tour? See any cool places?”

He nods. “Yeah, got to explore a few cities.” He taps his fingers against the wooden desk. “Do you have an appointment anytime soon?”

Jay shakes her head. “My 2 o’clock had to reschedule. I’m here until 4 before I see anyone. Why? What's tickling your fancy?”

“I was wondering if you could do a tat for me? I know this is very last minute and if you need me to come in another day this week, I totally can.” His words run into each other; his palms start to sweat. He wipes them on his jeans.

Jay laughs, holding up a hand. “Whoa, pump the brakes. One, what are you looking for?”

“You know that drawing you did for me?” She nods. “I was kind of hoping you could create something with just the crystal ball and lightning bolt. I know the drawing itself is kind of big.”

A grin lifts her cheeks; Calum’s heart settles for a second. “I think I can do that. Where are you thinking to put it?”

“Inner bicep.” He watches her gaze land on his arm. The t-shirt is baggy, he at least thought about that with enough advance.

“Give me 30 minutes to come up with some sketches.” Jay pushes away from the front desk and heads to the back, but not for calling to the shop to watch the front desk.

Calum slides into the seat at the front, leg bouncing as he settles down. This isn’t even his first tattoo, but the nerves flood his body. His scalp tingles. The thirty minutes move by too fast, but also too slow simultaneously. The seconds feel like hours but move by milliseconds.

Eventually, Jay resurfaces, waving him over to her. He walks back and looks at the sketches she places out in front of him. There are two different ones. One’s a bit more minimalistic, which is her style, with the lightning bolt in the background and a simple crystal ball at the point. The other is a bit bolder, the ball has a slightly warped edge where it connects to the bolt. It looks like the bolt is melting the glass ball.

“I can whip up more if neither one of them are quite right. But I wasn’t sure if it wanted something a bit more crisp and sharp or not,” Jay explains.

Calum admits that most of his tattoos are more cleaned up and sharp. He likes the idea of playing with a new style. “I like the second one,” he says, tapping it.

“You sure?” He nods, he’s never been more sure of something in his life. “Which bicep? Let me line it up and make sure it’ll fit.”

Calum lifts his left arm up for her. Laying the stencil over his skin, Jay notes she has to make a couple small tweaks. But after that, she’ll be ready. They discuss full color, or just outline, or shading, price, and a few other details before Jay concludes with, “Hop in my seat. I’ll be there soon.”

Calum nods and walks over to her station. Her stuff is already laid out, probably for her canceled 2 o’clock. It’s about five more minutes before Jay returns with the final stencil. Calum rolls up the sleeve of his shirt before she places the stencil. Happy with the placement, he stretches out on the table.

Jay gets herself ready before she brings the needle over his skin. The first puncture always makes him jolt a little, the first jab of pain causes his heart to race. “Do you plan on relaxing now that you're back home?"

"Yeah, for a little bit. I might go see my family, but I know we'll be back in the studio soon. Anything exciting happen while I was gone?"

"I mean exciting things happen every day at this place. But it's not like I could recall them all now."

Calum hums, acknowledging her statement, but not quite sure what to say next. Luckily, Jay's faster to fill in the silence. "You do realize you didn’t have to get a tattoo to have a real conversation with me?” Jay teases, pushing up her glasses.

Calum’s cheeks heat. “It’s not like that,” he chuckles.

“Well, that’s how it seems.”

“You were always busy when I stopped by. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Not always,” she laughs. “But it’s alright. You’re going to have plenty of time while I’m stabbing you to say all those things you didn’t.”

A chuckle escapes him; of course, Jay would have this sense of humor. “Wow, I can’t believe I’m paying so much for people just to stab me and act as a therapy. Maybe I am a masochist.”

“So are a lot of people. Sometimes you just take the emotional pain out in the physical realm.”

“I always imagined people that worked in a tattoo shop to be more heavily tatted,” Calum hums, taking in scattered ink across her arms and one pokes out from the V in her t-shirt.

“I focused it more on my back and legs and not so much my arms. I’m getting there. So, why this one today?”

Calum goes to shrug, but stops himself as he hears the gun nearing his skin again. “Not really sure. It looked cool. I guess it also serves to remind me that fate isn’t linear. There’s going to be twists and turns, maybe some trouble. And that’s okay. Don’t be afraid of the journey. Also, it's really fucking cool art.”

Jay hums her laugh, “Why thank you. Wise brain you got there. Besides, it seems like you also have people you keep close to you.” She eyes the initials and the name under the bird. “Whoever they are to you, I hope you all stay close.”

“Those are my parents' initials,” he explains. “And my sister’s name. They’ve been with me through it all--I love them dearly.”

“So sweet. I wish my parents and I were closer. I tattooed my brother’s jersey number on me. It was my first tattoo.”

“What did he play?”

“Soccer, or for your kind, football.”

“Hey now, it’s played with the feet, it makes much more sense.”

Jay laughs, wiping off excess ink. She cocks her head to the side a little, then goes back in for the black ink. “I’m only teasing. Us Americans are so dumb sometimes. Like why is our football not called something else? Literally, the only thing that happens with the feet is the running. We carry the fucking ball.”

“I’ve wondered that as well!” he laughs. "Does your brother still play?"

“Yeah, the whole knucklehead still plays for his college.”

“What position?”

Jay laughs. “I'll have you know my job as the older sister is to show up and cheer him on. Something defensive? I don’t remember off the top my head.”

“I’ll give you credit for that. I’m sure he appreciates it.”

“He does until he sees with me in face paint on and then he’s acting like he doesn’t know me. Oh, oh wait, I think remember what he does. It’s defensive,” she pauses, lips pursed together, “something fielder.”

“Defensive midfielder?” he asks.

“Yeah, that. But like I said, I show up when I can and scream. That’s it. When he’s old enough, I’ll buy him a beer after his games too.”

“How old is he?”

“Nineteen, we’re three years apart.”

“The only sibling you have?”

“Nah, got a baby sister too. She’s fifteen. If you’re impressed by my eyeshadow thank her. Because she’s the one that taught me how to do it.”

Calum finds himself staring at the red and gold coloring her eyelids. “It looks really nice,” he breathes.

“Why thank you.” She pauses to bats her eyelashes. “I even managed to get those godforsaken falsies on right too. They look good, but the raise hell.”

“I think you’re the first woman I’ve met in LA that’s not obsessed with makeup,” he notes.

“Oh, you were doing so well. There are a lot of people of who aren’t huge in the makeup scene.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he tries to backtrack. “I’m sorry. In my experience, it’s not like that. They’re hiding the fact they aren’t wearing makeup--embarrassed by it or something.”

Jay nods, pushing up her glasses yet again. “Yeah, it’s not easy. We’re told to be perfect, but in reality, we’re just like everyone. We’re human, imperfect and flaw-full and beautiful.”

“Not in spite of, but because of.”

“Exactly,” she chuckles. Silences settles in around them. Calum wonders why she said she was closer to her family, but the way she talks about her siblings doesn’t match. She’s cheering her brother on at his game; she’s sitting down to learn makeup with and from her sister.

“Can I ask a bit of a personal question?” he asks.

“What kind of personal? Do I get a lifeline?”

Cal exhales a laugh. “You can always say no.”

“Hit me with it.”

“Why say that you’re family isn’t close but you clearly take a lot of pride in your siblings?”

“An observant one on my table, I see. It’s my parents. They don’t like that I’m pansexual, say I’m going to hell. My siblings don’t fucking care. I’m still the crazy-ass sister that loves and supports them.”

With a hum of acknowledgment from Calum, it goes quiet again around them for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. He knows it doesn’t really fix anything for her; it doesn’t take away the potential years of her suffering. It’s the only thing he can offer her though. It feels right to say.

“Oh, no need for you to be sorry. It’s not like you threw me out of the house.”

“Ouch. You’re making it though right?”

“Yeah, now that I work here, things are on the up and up.”

“That’s good; I’m glad.”

“Thanks.”

“Favorite tattoo you’ve done?” he asks, wanting to hear her voice again.

“This one,” she laughs. “Though I had someone ask for a pin-up witch, which was also pretty fucking cool to do.”

Calum remembers seeing that on her Instagram. “That one was amazing! Her lips looked so good; I know that’s a strange thing to admit.”

“Don’t worry. I am quite proud of that myself.”

“Do you have a favorite tattoo on you?”

“The blue jay on my shoulder. My parents would take me on walks when I was still an infant. According to the legend, while they were sitting on a park bench a blue jay landed on me. I didn’t cry; it didn’t hurt me. It just landed for a second and then flew off. They called me Blue Jay ever since. I just shortened the nickname as I got older.” She gives one more wipe. “Finished. Check it out.”

Calum sits up, walking over to the mirror. He grins seeing the melting ball sitting against his skin. He grins over to Jay. “It looks amazing. Thank you.”

“No problem.” They head back over to her station. Jay cleans it and wraps the fresh ink. Calum carefully gets his sleeve back down with a little help from Jay. He pays their agreed price with his card, but slides two fifties over to her. “You do know that’s more than double a twenty percent tip right?”

Calum shrugs. “Is it? I’m bad at math,” he grins. “Treat your sister to a new palette or something. Treat yourself to something.”

“Thank you. Now next time, you come by, I hope we don’t talk while I’m stabbing you repeatedly.”

Calum shakes his head, a grin still on his face. Of course. He had forgotten to get the gift certificate. But possibly asking Jay to dinner wouldn't be such a bad idea. “Give me your number and I can promise the next time we talk, it won’t in your chair.”

She holds out her hand, waiting. He hands her his phone, after unlocking it. She puts her number in. She goes to hand the phone back but just before his fingers touch it, she draws it back. "I mean it--actually text me. I adore memes, dogs, TikToks, your favorite songs."

"I'll actually talk to you. I promise."

Jay hands over his phone with a smile. Calum steps outside the glass doors. Why should he wait? He could do it now. For fuck sake, the last hour had been the groundwork for a clear sign a date was absolutely an option. His fingers hovering over her name. He taps it, and then presses for a call. Holding the phone to his ear, he listens to it ring for a second.

“I can still see you, you know?” Jay laughs.

Calum turns around, catching her leaning against the front desk. “I told you the next time we talked you wouldn’t be inking me.”

“What can I help you with, Calum?”

“Dinner, tonight-- I may have ordered too many appetizers for just little old me."

Her laugh trickles in over the speaker. She drops her head, giving it a shake before looking back up to him in the afternoon sun. “I think I can help you with that. Give me the time and place."

Calum rattles off the name of a restaurant that he had been wanting to try. Nothing too upscale, but not something that would be too casual. "How does 8 sound?"

"I love it there. I'll see you at 8."

“Bye, Jay.”

“Bye, Calum.” As he walks to his car, his phone buzzes yet again. This time a text from his artist, I’m being fucking replaced, I see. I can’t be too mad since it’s Jay. Calum laughs as he slides into his car. Maybe he is getting replaced; maybe he’s not. Calum’s not sure. He is sure that he needs to figure out if he can make reservations and what to wear for tonight.

Skyline Manor by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Chapter 1/13

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly

Chapter 1: Once Upon a Time

Once Upon a time in the faraway land of Bostonia, lived a Princess named Emma Swan and her son, Sir Henry and while Sir Henry loved and adored his mother, he longed for adventure. Life at Skyline Manor bordered on mundane, and Sir Henry wanted to see the world, find buried treasure, or save the kingdom from impending doom. But most of all, the thing Sir Henry wanted most in all the realms was for his mother to find true love.

Princess Emma had many suitors, presently she was being courted by Duke Humbert of Rockport, a friend of her brother King David’s and an honorable man. Yet for all the dancing, flowers, and bold intentions, his mother had not yet settled for the Duke.

For Sir Henry knew that his mother was longing for her own adventure. He had observed her many times from her window, while glancing up from his place in the garden. She would sit, stoically, her gaze always looking outward, staring wistfully at the sea. But alas, adventure was frowned upon for the Princess, as King David wanted her to settle down and marry, forever giving up her chance at finding the one thing that had alluded her. A happy ending.

“Henry, dinner is ready.”

Henry dropped his pen and turned toward his door, shoving his notebook in his desk drawer as his mother entered his bedroom.

“Did you hear me? Dinner’s ready.”

“Yup, just finishing up my homework.” He closed his math book and stood from his desk. “We aren’t having meatloaf again are we?”

His mother tussled his hair and pushed him toward the kitchen. “No, mac and cheese tonight.”

“Oh yum.” He exclaimed before she grabbed him by the shirt.

“Wash your hands first.”

“Mom.” He whined. “My hands are clean.”

“Now.” She demanded. “Then come to the table. We won’t start without you.”

“We?”

“Yeah, I told you last week that Graham was coming for dinner tonight?”

Henry smiled, “Oh yeah.” He turned away from his mother so she wouldn’t see the frown on his face. Graham “The Bore” Humbert and his mother had been dating for six months. It wasn’t that Henry didn’t like him; he just wasn’t interesting. He had been excited when he first met him, leather jacket, with a shiny gold badge, he couldn’t wait to hear all his stories about chasing bad guys or shooting a gun, only to find out that he wasn’t exactly a cop but more like a security guard for an old folk’s home.

He was a nice man, polite, friendly, and his mom seemed to like him, so he tried not to show his disappointment when his mother invited him along to things they used to do together. Going to the zoo, spending time at the park by the docks, or go-kart racing, all of the previous mother/son activities became, mother/son plus Graham activities. While it was disappointing, his mother deserved to be happy. She had gone through a rough time with her dad and though they had stopped yelling at each other, he knew that she had been unhappy for a really long time.

Seeing his mother laugh and smile was great and everything, but Henry just didn’t feel like Graham was the right man for his mom. Case in point, when he and his mom wanted to try sailing, Graham got seasick and threw up the entire trip. Or when they went to that new escape room downtown and Graham ignored his mother’s suggestion to enter the code they found in the chest on the cabinet lock and ended up wasting twenty minutes entering random numbers until time ran out.

Henry was sure that someone could be a nice man, just not the right man.

He spent many of their outings trying to find a better match for his mom. Every man they passed, or spoke to, became eligible options for Emma. So far he hadn’t found anyone worthy enough. He guessed Graham could do until he found something better. At least she wouldn’t be sad like she was before Graham had arrived.

“Goodness, did you wash off your fingerprints?” His mother asked as he sat down at the table.

“Sorry, I got distracted.” He said sheepishly as he sat down.

“How are you Henry?” Graham turned his attention nervously toward him.

He shrugged. “Good I guess.” Dinner was quiet, he dug his fork into the noodles, slipping them into his mouth as he glanced around the table. There was small talk that didn’t include him, mostly things Graham had dealt with at work, some man named Leroy fell and hurt his hip, the lady he always called Grans had gotten angry about the food in the cafeteria again, so he had to settle her back to her room. Not terrible things, but nothing that interested Henry and he wasn’t exactly a part of the conversation either. “Can I go hang out with Will tonight?”

“I thought maybe we could watch a movie.” She replied, looking between him and Graham.

“Will promised we could finish the Falcon tonight.” He whined.

“You’re building a bird?” Graham asked.

“The Millennium Falcon.” He corrected with an air of disappointment when the man shrugged his shoulders, not understanding what it was.

“Ok, what’s that?”

Henry’s mouth dropped and he turned toward his mother. “He doesn’t know what it is?”

“Afraid Graham doesn’t like Star Wars.” Henry blinked slowly. Another strike against you, buddy, he thought. “We were thinking we could watch “Paul Blart, Mall Cop.” His mother smiled toward Graham.

Mall Cop, he groaned internally. His mother hated that movie. He tried to fake a smile. “Sounds great.” He knew his voice must have sounded disingenuous when Graham cleared his throat and spoke.

“Emma, if he wants to build this Falcon car, I don’t mind, we can watch the movie some other time, or I can leave it here if he wants to watch it after we do, tonight.”

“Ok fine, but you have to go to bed at 9 tonight, you have school tomorrow.” Henry jumped up from the table. “And tell Will I said no bad words. I’m still getting dirty looks from the principle after you felt the need to use the phrase bloody hell when your teacher asked if you did your homework last week.”

“Got it, bed by 9, no bad words. Love you mom.” He kissed her cheek and ran out of the room, sticking his head back through the opening of the door. “Bye Graham.” He announced before running from the room toward the front door and sprinting across the hallway, colliding with something solid as soon as he shut his door.

He fell backward, landing on his rear and looking up to see a tall, dark haired man in a leather jacket staring down at him. “Sorry, lad, I fear I didn’t see you. I hope I haven’t injured you.” He held his hand out and helped him off the floor.

“Takes a lot more than that to hurt me.” He replied with a grin taking in the stranger’s appearance, wondering who he was and what he was doing here.

“Alright then lad, glad you’re not hurt.”

Henry looked down and picked up the item the man dropped, turning it over in his hand, it was a set of keys with a ship’s anchor hanging from a chain. “Cool anchor.”

The man laughed and took the keys from his hand. “Thanks, mate. I’m Killian Jones, I just moved in next door.” He gestured to the door on the other side of his own.

“My name’s Henry.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Sir Henry.” He stated and Henry’s eyes grew wide. “I hope you get to where you’re going safely.” He chuckled.

“Thanks, just going to visit my friend Will, he lives across the hall here.” Pointing to the door in front of them.

“Alright then, I won’t keep you. Be careful, I’m sure your mom and dad would be quite upset if you were injured.”

“I just live with my mom. My dad doesn’t live here.”

“You sure do give out a lot of information to strangers. You should be careful with that; I could be an untrustworthy person?”

“Are you?”

“Well, no, but you should still be careful, lad.” He said with a laugh. “Have a good evening, I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

Henry waved as the man retreated down the hall, his anchor keychain jingling from his back pocket. A smile grew on his face. A new player had arrived on the scene, he thought before knocking on the door in front of him.

Will Scarlet opened the door, smiling down at him. “Bloody hell, it’s already 7pm. You’re already late.”

“Mom says you can’t use that word while I’m here. And I couldn’t help it, Graham came over tonight and wanted to watch Mall Cop.” Will Scarlet was his mother’s best friend. They had known each other since before Henry was born. Will was Henry’s Godfather and Will’s place was his favorite place to be besides his own home.

“Oh God. He takes that security guard thing a bit too far doesn’t he?”

“He doesn’t even watch Star Wars. Who doesn’t watch Star Wars?”

“Loads of people, mate, loads of incorrect and ignorant people.” He teased as they sat down in front of the multitude of Legos spread out on the table in front of them. “But cut him some slack, he’s a good man. Your mom could do worse.”

“She could do better.”

“Henry!” He warned. “Just because he’s a snoozer, doesn’t mean your mom doesn’t like being around him. She seems to see something in him that’s worth having around to her, so don’t screw that up, kid.”

Henry rolled his eyes. “I know, I know, I was nice to him. I promise.”

“Good to hear, kid.” He ruffled his hair and they worked together to find the pieces they needed to continue where they left off. “Did your mom get the chicken for the barbeque next weekend?”

Henry’s favorite summer tradition was the annual Skyline Apartment’s barbeque. It was held every June on the roof of the building and all the residents attended. The roof had the best view of the harbor in town and was the main reason his mom chose this place when they moved here three years ago.

“Yeah, she got it on Wednesday.” He paused. “Oh yeah, there’s a new guy, we need to invite him too.”

“Which new guy?”

“The guy who moved into the vacant apartment next door, 4C, I ran into him on my way over here.”

“I’ll make sure Rubes invites him, then.”

“Awesome.”

When Henry returned to his room later that evening he pulled the notebook out of his drawer and stared at the page.

Sir Henry hoped that a new adventure would be revealed at the annual ball. Every year, the residents of Skyline Manor hosted a party, which was attended by the King and Queen of Bostonia. Perhaps this would be the moment that his mother would find her true love. As preparations for the ball were being set, a mysterious ship dropped anchor at Bostonia Harbor, helmed by the bravest sailor in all the lands, Captain Killian Jones.

~*~

Killian Jones dropped his keys on the counter, looking around the empty apartment in front of him. Stepping out onto his balcony he closed his eyes and listened for the sound of the seagulls. He smiled to himself as he drank in the smells of the fresh ocean air. He could barely believe his luck when a unit opened at Skyline Apartments. He had been on the waiting list for a year after scoping out the best apartments close to the harbor.

This was a rare find. Living near the harbor meant he no longer had to sit in traffic to get to his job each day. Killian loved the ocean. When he moved to Boston from Maine two years ago, he knew that he wanted to work on the water. It was by chance that an old Navy friend of his knew of a job for a charter company that needed a Captain to give tours of the harbor to paying guests and the rest as they say, was history.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he fished it out from his restrictive denim jeans to glance at the screen.

Belle: Want to get dinner tonight? I assume you haven’t bought any groceries for your new apartment and if I didn’t get to you soon, you’d have already ordered pizza and opened a beer.

Killian laughed; Belle knew him so well. He’d been seeing the lass for the last six months, but he tried to keep things light between them. Dinner and a movie, perhaps a round of pool at a nearby bar, but Killian Jones didn’t have a girlfriend. She never spent the night, they didn’t celebrate each other’s birthdays, and they never talked about their future.

He liked Belle very much, she was a friendly lass, very attentive, an excellent lover, and honestly a great friend. But he couldn’t afford to make attachments.

His last relationship, if you could call it that, had lasted two years. The woman he had been seeing wasn’t exactly up front on all aspects of her personal life. Perhaps he should have seen the immediate red flags when they met and her relationship status on Facebook was “It’s complicated.” Turns out complicatedmeant married, and not in the separated variety either.

An arrest from a bar fight and a restraining order later, it was over. Everything Killian had thought he knew about his life had turned upside down. He had lived with a friend for a few months while he tried to recover from losing the woman he had planned to ask to marry him. When he was finally determined to move on, lost in drink and terrified of having his heart broken again, he swore to his brother that he would never enter a relationship with another woman.

He had not broken that drunken vow since. He enjoyed women, in fact, he had enjoyed the company of many a lass after nights spent at the bar, carnal activities were something he found himself quite skilled at. But that was usually as far as things went. One-night stands, chance encounters, never emotional connection.

Sure, his one-night stand with Belle French had extended into six months. One dinner that turned into a string of dinners and bedroom romps, but Killian kept his heart out of the transaction. Belle was fun, she was safe, and she seemed to understand their arrangement.

Killian: Or you could bring sandwiches from that place we went to on 5th. I’ll provide the beer. As long as you don’t mind sitting on the floor. Furniture doesn’t arrive until tomorrow afternoon.

Belle: On my way!

Killian stepped into the hall, locking his door behind him. He knew there was a convenience store within walking distance where he could purchase some beer for the evening. Turning toward the elevator he saw the door to the apartment next to him open and a man step out into the hall. He believed it to be the one the young lad came from earlier when they collided in the hall.

“Tell Henry goodnight for me.” The man’s attention was focused on the occupant still inside the apartment. “Sorry he missed the movie.”

“Maybe next time.” He heard a laugh as he approached, nodding to the man in the hall and turning toward the open door. He made eye contact with the most radiant green eyes he had ever seen, almost tripping over his own feet.

“Good evening.” He offered the greeting to the couple with a nod.

“Hey.” The woman said with a gorgeous smile that seemed to cause the entire dark hall to light up brightly. He continued to the elevator, only turning back when it opened, and he saw the man turn toward him.

“Hold the elevator.” He leaned over and kissed the woman, running down the hall and joining him in the small space. “Haven’t seen you around here before.” He offered his hand toward him and Killian shook it. “I’m Graham. Do you live here?”

“Aye, just moved in to 4C. Name’s Jones.”

“Ah you’re neighbors with my girlfriend and her kid.”

“Ah, Henry, I believe? I think I bumped into him in the hall earlier.”

“That’s him. Great kid.” He said as he exhaled. Killian nodded, unsure of what else to share with the man. He hated small talk and found it completely unnecessary. He was relieved when he heard the ding of the elevator announcing they had arrived on the ground floor.

“Nice meeting you.” He offered as he headed toward the exit.

“Yeah, I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

~*~

Emma stood in her doorway watching her boyfriend and the mystery man enter the elevator. She’d never seen him in the building before. She wondered if Ruby had met someone new recently. Obviously if she had, she could understand why she was keeping him a secret. He was gorgeous in that sort of dangerous, don’t-take-home-to-mom, kind of way.

She closed her door, locking it behind her as she went about cleaning the cups from the living room. It was a lovely evening with Graham, even if the movie was on her do-not-care-to-watchlist. Graham was a really good man. He was friendly, had a steady job, and treated her well. It was more than she had with her ex-husband, Neal.

Neal and Emma had burned with a fire that she knew could never be sustained. They burned hot and blew up just as quickly. She had been married to Neal for less than six months before he got arrested for breaking and entering. She should have known things weren’t going to work out when their first date was to a club that turned out to be a target for a robbery that he had been scoping out. She tried to reconcile all the reasons he could change if they stayed together. But Neal never grew up.

As soon as the ink dried on their divorce papers, she found out she was pregnant because isn’t that just how life works? She had thought she would be done with Neal forever, and then they were forced to work together to parent a child. Henry being born did cause Neal to grow up at least a little, and he gave up his previous life in order to maintain joint custody of their son. Emma had threatened that the moment she found out he was messed up in anything illegal, she would take him back to court immediately.

Eleven years later, and Neal was still clean. Completely and utterly immature, but at least he had held down the same job for the last three months. And he was getting paid legally instead of under the table, which was a welcomed change. For the most part they got along, mostly for Henry’s sake, but she was happy that Henry had both of his parents in his life.

That had been the most important part to her, growing up in the foster system without knowing her real parents had led to a difficult childhood. However, when she turned six, she had been adopted by Ruth and Robert Nolan. They had a son that was only 2 years older than her, and Emma and David became best friends. She had been so grateful to finally have a home, and a family and she never wanted her son to go without either.

She had everything she could ever want in life. A beautiful son, a wonderful family, the best friends she could ever ask for, and a man who cared about her. For all accounts, Emma was happy with her life. Which was all the more reason to be frustrated when she found herself sitting on her balcony tonight, like she did most nights, wondering if there wasn’t something more out there for her. She had everything she had ever asked for, so why was she always looking for shooting stars or waiting for the clock to hit 11:11 to make the wish she made every night when she closed her eyes…

I wish something big and exciting would happen.

Chemical Reaction (18/22)

Summary: Though their chemistry class is now over, the chemistry between James and Rose is just getting started. Together, they navigate the highs of new love and the lows of coping with past trauma to forge deep and unbreakable bonds of love and commitment. Part 2 in the Catalysis series. Tagging @doctorroseprompts

This chapter: ~6900 words, teen

If you like my stories, consider leaving me a tip? I know these are trying times, but if you are able, I would really appreciate it xoxo. And as always, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated as well.

AO3 | FF | TSP

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14 | Ch15 | Ch16 | Ch17 | Ch18 | Ch19 | Ch20 | Ch21 | epilogue

James was shaking. It was like he hadn’t eaten in too long and his blood sugar dropped too low and his body started rebelling against him until he gave it nourishment.

Only this was worse. Much, much worse. He was dizzy and nauseated and crippled with grief.

How had the night gone so wrong? They’d been having fun at the Phillies game, hadn’t they? They’d been laughing and lighthearted, and were so exhausted that they’d been a few minutes away from collapsing into bed together.

Then he’d gone and snooped through Rose’s mail. He should have ignored the letter. He should have asked her what it was, and asked why Jimmy had contacted her.

Would she have told the truth?

He hated that he had to ask that question, and he hated even more that he didn’t have a definitive answer.

His body moved on autopilot down the many flights of stairs of Rose’s building, not entirely aware of his surroundings. It was a miracle he didn’t trip down the steps and break his neck, considering he couldn’t quite feel his feet. He couldn’t feel much of anything apart from the heavy, aching pressure in his chest and the acid roiling in his gut.

James slipped into his dark car, which was still warm from the drive to her flat. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be with Rose, holding Rose, snuggling Rose in bed as they drifted to sleep.

Instead, here he was. About to drive home. Alone.

A break. Rose wanted a break. Because he had been such an insensitive arsehole.

But so was she.

Every insecurity he’d shared with Rose, every heartbreaking moment of the aftermath of his parents’ death… had Rose not wanted to hear about any of them? He felt stupid—so stupid—for baring so much of his soul to her without realizing she wasn’t reciprocating. How had he ever thought the nuggets of information she’d dropped for him constituted reciprocity? She had put in the bare minimum of emotional effort, giving him just enough that their communication felt like a two-way street. Did she know what she was doing? Had this been her plan all along? Get him comfortable and familiar with her so he would fall utterly in love with her? So he would have sex with her? Was that all she had been after this whole time? Had she taken advantage of his inexperience and banked on him not realizing she wasn’t putting in as much effort as he was? 

His shoulders shook as he wept into his hands, those ugly, nasty thoughts eating away at his mind until he couldn’t think of anything else. He didn’t want to believe that about Rose. These last four months with her had been nothing short of bliss. He’d never connected with anyone as much as he had with Rose. He was desperate to believe that what they’d had was real. It had to be real. It hurt too much for it all to have been nothing.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting in the dark before his tears stopped enough for him to turn his car on. The engine growled to life, and the time 12:03 flashed blue in his eyes. Had it only been twenty minutes since he had first pulled up to Rose’s flat? How had twenty minutes completely destroyed the last seven months of their friendship and relationship?

His vision blurred again with fresh tears, but he impatiently rubbed them away to put his car in gear and drive off down the deserted street.

It probably should have bothered him that he didn’t remember driving. Anything could have happened. He could have run every single stop light, could have hit anything or anyone. But he was suddenly home, pulling into his dark driveway sometime later. His house was equally dark. He hadn’t left any lights on because he hadn’t expected to come back here tonight.

The house was dead silent. Not even his cats could deign to greet him. He toed off his shoes by the front door then plopped his keys and wallet into the dish on the cabinet beside it.

“Pip?” he croaked, voice raspy from all the tears he’d shed. “Merry? Gollum?”

There was a tiny chirp from the living room—Pippin and Merry were curled together on the sofa. James frowned. They usually slept in his bed, even on the nights he didn’t come home. He stepped over to them and gave them each a few chin scritches, but they were too drowsy to do much other than purr lightly.

“Where’s Gollum, eh?” he asked them, glancing around the living room. The Siamese wasn’t in the cat tree, or anywhere in sight. After the night he’d had, it would be his luck if Gollum had crawled off somewhere and died.

Whatever. He would look for him in the morning. James wanted nothing more than to strip down to his pants, fall into bed, and not wake up for a few days.

However, those plans were instantly scrapped when he stepped into his bedroom and was greeted with the pungent, acrid odor of ammonia. A huge, reeking damp spot sat in the middle of his bed.

“God-fucking-dammit!” he shouted, kicking his bed frame. 

He cried out and hopped on one foot as his toes burned in agony. His anger surged. Anger at himself, for jumping to conclusions and making too many accusations; anger at Rose, for keeping all of her secrets; anger at Jimmy, for everything he’d done to Rose; anger at his cat, for weeing on his bed when all he wanted to do was sleep and not wake up for a very long time.

James sank onto the edge of his bed—far away from the urine stain—his tears starting up again in earnest. He wanted Rose, and he hated that he wanted her. She had broken his heart more thoroughly than anyone ever had before, yet he still loved her. God, did he love her. 

Was that wrong of him though? Was it unhealthy that he wanted her, wanted to make up with her, after everything they’d said that night? Could they even make up from something like this?

He hoped they could. He hoped they could find some sort of middle ground. What that middle ground looked like, he didn’t know; his brain was too foggy with exhaustion and grief to think about possible resolutions and compromises they could make.

Something vibrated against his thigh. Sniffling and wiping his sleeve across his running nose, James fished his mobile out of his pocket. A new message from Rose.

Did you make it home okay?

He wanted to reply, “What do you care?” but curbed the impulse. That wasn’t fair. If she’d had to drive home at midnight after the argument they’d just had, he would want to know she was safe.

“Yeah,” is all he sent.

Okay. Glad to hear it. Sleep well James.

“Fat fucking chance,” he muttered to his phone, and instead typed out, “Yeah. You too.”

He set his phone face-down on the mattress beside him and rubbed his fingers into his eyes. A throbbing headache was beginning behind his brow. He would love nothing more than to sleep soundly and dreamlessly, but knew that his brain wouldn’t shut down enough for him to get any restful sleep.

Besides, it’s not like his bed was in any sort of state to be slept in.

With a groan, James pushed himself to his feet and tucked his phone into his pocket. He ripped off all the layers of his bedding, cursing when he saw they were soaked down to the mattress cover. Had Gollum held his bladder all goddamn day so he could piss right through everything?

He carried the stinking pile of sheets and blankets to his laundry room and settled in for a long night of washing. He stuffed the duvet into his washer—glad this home used to belong to a single mother of three who had invested in a giant washing machine, and left it behind when she’d moved out—and dumped in two detergent pods before programming a long, hot wash cycle. He then took the rest of his blankets to his kitchen sink.

The sight of two days’ worth of dirty dishes made him want to throw them all against a wall—broken dishes didn’t need to be cleaned. However, the mess of broken dishes would be more taxing. Sucking in a deep breath, he blew it out noisily as he dropped his sheets onto the floor and loaded everything into the dishwasher.

When the sink was empty, he grabbed his blankets and gave them all an individual rinse to hopefully keep the cat urine stain from setting.

It took nearly two dryer cycles for his duvet to be completely dry, and then another two loads of laundry before the rest of his blankets and sheets were clean. To his relief, all traces of cat urine odor were gone.

It was the dead of night by the time he made his bed; if he fell asleep right now, he would get at least four hours in before he would have to get up for classes. Was it worth it to try to sleep? He was keyed up from his middle of the night laundry session and his brain was still too loud. Maybe he should give up on the notion of sleep and try to take a nap after classes. Though would it even be productive if he attended classes?

James flopped onto his back on the fresh duvet, breathing in the scent of clean laundry. He would have to revoke the cats’ bedroom privileges until they—Gollum—proved they could be trusted not to wee on everything.

He sat bolt upright. He hadn’t thought to check the guest bedroom. Grumbling to himself and crossing his fingers, he jogged down the hall, and cursed vehemently under his breath when he smelled cat urine.

What the hell? Should’ve left the stupid arsehole to drown.

Well. He was already awake. In for a penny, and all. Stripping that bed as well, he began the same laundry routine. While that duvet was in the wash, James indulged in a quick shower. The sweat and grime of the previous day coupled with crying his eyes out intermittently for the past few hours made him feel filthy. 

The shower didn’t relax him as much as he’d hoped, not when the evidence of Rose was all around him. He hadn’t realized how completely she had insinuated herself into his home, into his life. Her shampoo, conditioner, and body wash sat right beside his, her bottles of pink and yellow keeping company with his blue and red ones.

Firmly ignoring her products, James rushed through his shower, lathering his hair and body in record time. But when he went to his pajama drawer, he was yet again reminded of Rose when he saw a set of her pjs in the drawer too. He couldn’t help but touch them, feeling the soft fabric beneath his fingertips as his brain reminded him of all the times he’d pushed her top off before they made love.

His stomach ached with longing. Hurriedly shutting the drawer, James instead moved to grab a pair of boxer-briefs. Rose’s knickers sat in a small pile in that drawer too. Growling in frustration, he grabbed a pair of pants at random and slipped them on before bending to root through his t-shirt drawer. Unsurprisingly, he found several of Rose’s shirts mixed in with his.

How had he not realized how much of Rose existed in his house? How had he not realized that her light and beauty shone through his home, and that she had made it her home too?

Because I loved it. 

And he had. He had loved living with Rose, and had been counting down the days when she would officially move out of her flat and into his house.

His tears nearly started up again when he realized that he may never share a home with Rose if they couldn’t find a way to work through all that had been said. No more sleepy mornings spent giggling and kissing in bed. No more impromptu dance parties in the kitchen just because they felt like being silly. No more late-night chats that sometimes carried them into the wee hours of the mornings. No more exploring every beautiful inch of her body and losing himself in her love and pleasure.

He didn’t particularly care about the prospect of no more sex. Brilliant though it was, he found himself more devastated by the loss of Rose’s friendship than the loss of her body. He had fallen in love with her, and the thought of her not being in his life anymore was agonizing. They’d known each other for seven months, and she had somehow become a constant in his life, an unmovable force that he’d been confident would never be gone.

The unknown was killing him. The uncertainty of whether he and Rose would be able to make up. If they did manage to reconcile, to forgive and heal, would their relationship look the same as it did before?

A distant chime from down the hall told him the wash cycle was finished. Sniffling, James pulled on a soft, worn t-shirt and padded down the hall to continue his laundry. When the duvet was in the dryer and the sheets were in the washer, James started searching for Gollum. As irritated as he was with his cat, he was also concerned; apart from the first week James had brought Gollum home, the feline had never had litter box issues.

Drifting from room to room, James finally found Gollum in the basement—which also doubled as an office space—lying on the desk chair.

“What’s gotten into you, you little menace?” he asked, crouching beside the cat. Gollum didn’t react, making James’s heart lurch. “Gollum?”

He reached out and rested his hand on the cat’s side. Gollum let out a noise between a chirp and a growl.

“Thought you were dead for a minute. What on Earth is your problem, buddy? Are you not feeling well? Is the litter box not clean enough for you? Are you trying to make my shitty day even more shitty?” James sighed, and stroked the top of Gollum’s head. “I’ll call the vet when they open. In the meantime, try not to wee on anything else, yeah?”

Gollum huffed out a breath, then closed his eyes again, drifting off to sleep.

The rest of the night passed listlessly for James. When he wasn’t switching over laundry, he worked on cleaning his house from top to bottom. Anything to keep his mind busy and away from Rose, because otherwise all he could think about was the way he’d raised his voice and talked over her, the way he’d suggested she wasn’t as invested in their relationship as he was, the way she’d sobbed and hugged herself and flinched away from him. And all of that was something he definitely didn’t want to think about.

The sky was beginning to lighten in the distant horizon by the time he’d finished. His house was immaculate. There was not a scrap of unclean fabric anywhere, what with him moving on to washing his clothes and the various towels and blankets strewn around his home.

His eyes burned with exhaustion, and he thought he might be able to get some sleep. He preemptively filled his cats’ food dishes so that they wouldn’t barge into his room in an hour to demand breakfast, then he went into his bedroom and crawled beneath his sheets. Before settling in to try to sleep, he shot off a series of short emails to his various professors, letting them know he wouldn’t be in class that day, and he would arrange with some of his classmates to get their notes. That task finished, James silenced his phone and set it on the nightstand, then tugged his sheets up to his ears.

He hadn’t realized that his bed had begun to smell like Rose until he was surrounded by the scent of laundry detergent rather than her subtle floral aroma. With an intensity that stole his breath away, he was aware of how much he missed Rose. Missing her hurt almost as much as their fight did, because despite everything that had happened, he remained desperately in love with her. He knew that he would do just about anything to try to make things right with Rose, if she would let him. He hoped she would.

That train of thought kept him from getting much sleep. His mind kept replaying their argument over and over again, and it kept coming up with new rebuttals and explanations he wished he could have said instead of losing his temper.

It was ten o’clock by the time James gave up on the idea of getting any more rest. He felt worse now than he had when he’d collapsed into bed four hours ago. Bleary-eyed, James stumbled to the kitchen to begin a pot of coffee. While it brewed, he went to check on Gollum. His food dish beneath his cat tree was full, and the cat himself had barely moved from his position on the office chair.

“All right, bud. Vet time,” James murmured, stroking Gollum’s forehead and cheeks.

He went back upstairs for his phone, and placed a call to the veterinarian’s office. There were no available in-person appointments, but they told James he could drop the cat off with them and they would take some blood and urine samples from Gollum throughout the course of the day. 

James didn’t feel particularly good about dropping his sick cat off and leaving him alone, but the alternative was waiting a few days for an open appointment. He thanked the vet tech and said he would be by with his cat within the hour.

With a sigh, James pulled on some clothes, poured coffee into a travel thermos, and managed to get Gollum into his carrier with minimal fuss. Gollum loathed being in a car carrier, and often yowled and growled for the entire duration until he was set free again; the fact that he remained utterly silent and unmoving was testament to the fact he felt poorly.

The drive to the vet’s clinic was unremarkable, as was the transfer of his cat into their care. He confirmed his contact information, and thanked them for being able to take Gollum so quickly.

Since he was already out and about, James stopped by a nearby Walmart for his monthly supply run. He hadn’t thought to bring a list along on what he had assumed would be a quick stop at the vet’s, so he tried his best to remember everything he needed.

He was about to head to the front registers when a display of vibrant colors caught his eye. Paint swatches.

Hmm. Been meaning to repaint my bedroom.

Pulling his shopping cart to the side, James grabbed a booklet and began leafing through for some palette ideas. Currently, his walls were boring off-white, which hadn’t really bothered him before. He always assumed he would eventually get around to repainting, but after nearly two years of living there, everything was the same as when he’d moved in.

No time like the present.

He spent the next half hour poring over paint colors and mentally mapping the colors onto his bedroom walls. He frequently found himself wondering whether Rose would like a certain color, before he shut down that train of thought; it always came back, though. For the past several months, Rose was never more than half a thought away. Despite their current situation, that was a hard habit to break.

In the end, he decided on an eggshell-finish steel blue color that could have passed for gray. A nice, cool, neutral shade (and, despite his best efforts, he was sure Rose would like it too). He added a soft white for his ceiling and a sharp white glossy paint to his order to touch up the trim and crown molding. With his new paint cans in tow, he moved to the next aisle for paint rollers and brushes, protective cloth canvas, tape, a paint tray, and any other painting accoutrements he could find.

On his way home, he stopped by a fast-food drive-thru for a burger and an order of fries. His cholesterol was probably not pleased with him, considering he’d eaten a cheesesteak and fries for dinner the night before, but he ultimately decided to hell with his cholesterol. 

It was noontime when he finished his lunch, and he hopped right in with his painting project. It took him an hour to move all of his furniture to the middle of the room, and to unhang the various decorations on his walls. Not sure how long the painting would take, James shifted his entire dresser into his spare bedroom, where he figured he would sleep for the next night or two until the project was finished.

The soothing, repetitive movements of painting were cathartic, which is more than James could have hoped for. It took a fair amount of concentration, especially to make sure he didn’t drip paint where it didn’t belong. He enjoyed cutting in the corners and edges of his walls using one of the small brushes he’d bought, but he didn’t like using the broad paint roller to cover large areas. That was an easy and mindless task, which meant his brain could go back to Rose. And that was definitely not where he wanted his brain to go.

How much longer would his memory replay their fight for him? How long would it take before he stopped thinking about everything he could have and should have said differently? And how long was this break of theirs going to last?

Several times, he had been tempted to take photographs of his bedroom and send them to Rose. A tiny little olive branch, maybe. But no, that was stupid. That would look like he didn’t care about or didn’t want to address their fight.

He still took photos, though, wanting a before and after comparison for his own memories.

He was about to move on to the last wall of his bedroom when the vet called with an update on Gollum. When his phone had rung, his heart had jumped into his throat; he hadn’t been sure whether he was hoping or dreading to see Rose’s name. The crushing disappointment he felt gave him his answer. It took everything he had to not dismiss the call and instead phone Rose, desperate to speak with her and start mending whatever broke between them.

However, he had a duty to his cat, and so he accepted the vet’s call. Gollum, it turned out, had a rather severe urinary tract infection. The vet wanted to keep him overnight to start him on an aggressive antibacterial regimen, and to give him intravenous fluids because the cat was dangerously dehydrated.

The guilt nearly overwhelmed James. He hadn’t realized Gollum hadn’t been drinking or acting any differently; if the cat hadn’t wee’d on the beds, James wouldn’t have known anything was wrong. The vet tech, seeming to sense his distress, assured him that UTIs could frequently get overlooked, but that Gollum should make a full recovery.

“We anticipate you’ll be able to pick him up in a day or two.”

“Great, thanks,” James breathed. “Really. Thanks so much.”

The call reminded him it was time to feed his other cats. He had shut them away into the basement to keep them from wandering into his bedroom while he painted. As he walked down the hall, he could hear Pippin crying and scratching at the door.

“Sorry, sorry,” he called through the door. “One minute, boys. One minute, then I’ll bring down your dindin.”

He grabbed the two empty food dishes in the kitchen, filled them with kibble, grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge, and opened the basement door. Pippin bolted upstairs and sprinted directly to where his bowl usually sat. He froze when he saw it wasn’t there, and James couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“Right here, bud,” James said, shaking the bowl. “C’mon. You’re dining in the basement tonight, and tomorrow. Until I’ve finished painting. I absolutely do not trust you to not brush up against the wet walls, and I don’t fancy washing paint off of you.”

James continued talking to his cats as he carefully walked down the steps, wary of Pippin and Merry who both were winding around his ankles. Wouldn’t that just be the perfect ending to the past twenty-four hours? His relationship with Rose had crashed and burned, then he went and broke his neck falling down the stairs.

Once the cats were happily eating their dinner, James returned to his bedroom and worked on finishing what he could. He worked diligently until nightfall, pleased with his progress and with how well the color looked. However, he was growing to realize that the warm brown wood of his dresser, nightstand, and bookcases didn’t match with the cooler tones of the room.

Well, he’d been planning to upgrade his furniture anyway from the inexpensive mishmash of pieces he’d found at second-hand shops. Figuring he was done for the night, James set up a rotating fan to help with air circulation then went into his bathroom for a shower. Paint flecks spattered his face, hair, and arms; it took quite a bit of vigorous scrubbing before he was satisfied he’d washed it all off.

Once he was clean, dried, and dressed in pajamas, he exited his bedroom and closed the door behind himself so that he could release his cats from their basement prison. Not particularly hungry but figuring he ought to eat, he cut up an apple and scooped a dollop of peanut butter onto a plate, then took it and his laptop to his couch. Aching and exhausted, James simply sat on his sofa with his head tilted back and his eyes shut.

He nearly dozed off until Pippin clumsily jumped into his lap, nearly upending James’s snack. 

“Shoo,” James grumbled, moving his cat to the sofa cushion beside him.

Pippin huffed, then walked in a circle half a dozen times before plopping right next to James’s thigh. Absently stroking his cat, James munched on his pitiful dinner and opened up his laptop to IKEA’s website.

He spent the next hour browsing new bedroom furniture. With the light, cool-toned walls, he thought dark furniture would pop rather nicely. He fell utterly in love with a curved, corner-unit bookcase, and with a long chest of drawers that could fit enough clothes for two people. He favorited both of those pieces of furniture as he wondered what to do with his current furniture. Some of it could be repurposed to other rooms in his house, but others, like his bed frame—if he decided to upgrade that as well—would have to be sold or donated.

The ring of his doorbell interrupted his mental reconfiguration of his home. He leapt to his feet and jogged to his front door, cautiously peering into the peephole to see who was visiting him so late at night. A tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed man had his face pressed close to the door, as though he could look through the opposite end of the peephole.

James threw open the door. “Jack? What the hell are you doing here?”

The other man scanned his eyes up and down James’s body, taking in the pajamas and his damp, messy hair. A salacious grin crossed Jack’s face.

“Oops, I didn’t interrupt anything important, did I?”

It took James a few seconds to realize what Jack meant. Then he wondered why Jack would think he and Rose had been in the middle of having sex. Eventually he remembered that nobody else was aware that he and Rose were in the middle of an argument. Which made him remember that he and Rose were in the middle of an argument. His mood soured, and he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“What do you want, Jack?”

Jack simply stared at him for a beat before saying, “It’s Thursday.”

James’s stomach sank. Thursday… pub quiz night… shit.

“We didn’t see you at Molly’s, and none of us had heard from you. I thought maybe you were busy with Rose, caught up in all sorts of delicious debauchery that I would love to hear about. But you don’t exactly seem to be in a state of post-coital bliss, so…”

“What do you want, Jack?” James repeated, gritting his teeth. His sleepless night had finally caught up with him, and he was suddenly exhausted. His body felt leaden and his head began to ache. The last thing he wanted to do was stand in his doorway and have this conversation with his friend/ex-boyfriend.

Jack scrutinized him so intently that James had to fight the urge to slam the door in Jack’s face.

“What’s up with you?” 

“None of your bloody business,” James snapped. “Look, it’s late. Sorry I missed trivia night. I’ll be there next week. But if you wouldn’t mind…”

In a move James was not anticipating, Jack stepped forward and into James, startling him into backing up a step. Before he knew it, they were inside his house, and Jack had shut the door behind him.

“What the hell Jack?” James exploded. “I’m not in the bloody mood for this. Get out.”

“Spill. What’s happened?” Jack asked. Before James could shout at him again, he turned his head down the hall, sniffing. “Are you getting your house repainted?”

“Jack!” James followed uselessly as Jack strode down the hall to his closed bedroom door.

The other man threw open the door and flicked on the lights, revealing the messy, freshly-painted bedroom.

“Yes, I’m repainting my bedroom. Congratulations on your deductive reasoning skills. Will you please leave now?”

“Is there a reason you’ve started repainting your room on a random Thursday? That sounds like more of a weekend project.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I was out shopping and saw paint swatches and had the urge to repaint my bedroom. So here we are.”

“Why were you out shopping and looking at paint swatches in the middle of a school day? Play hooky, did you? You know, whenever I blow off classes for the day, it’s usually because I’m having sex. Was Rose too busy? Or have you worn her out already?”

James’s cheeks burned, even as his chest crumpled in on itself. He had done his best to not think about Rose all afternoon, yet here was Jack, bringing her up every other sentence.

“Well, at least I can finally say I got you in the bedroom,” Jack said lightly, digging his elbow into James’s ribs.

James managed a weak, half-hearted snort. “Not quite how you expected it though, is it?”

“Admittedly, we were both a lot more naked,” Jack lamented. “I’ll let you save the nakedness for Rose. Speaking of, what does she think of your sudden home makeover?”

James’s stomach hollowed out, and he surprised himself by confessing, “Dunno. Haven’t told her.”

Jack went silent for the first time all night. James could feel his friend’s eyes on him, but he steadfastly inspected his walls, looking for any imperfections he would have to pay close attention to when he applied the second coat.

“James, what happened?”

Jack’s voice was so soft and so knowing that the backs of James’s eyes prickled. Damn. He thought he was done crying. James sighed and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“I think… I think Rose and I might be breaking up soon,” he said, his voice hoarse.

Jack simply blinked at him, his face expressionless. “Right. We’re gonna get some alcohol, then you are going to explain everything to me. Why do you think you and Rose are breaking up? You two are the epitome of soulmates, if such a thing exists.”

James snorted, remembering every hurtful thing he and Rose had said last night. “Not anymore, we’re not.”

Jack clapped him lightly on the back, before he encircled his arm around his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “Let’s go sit down.”

Keeping his arm where it was, Jack guided James to the kitchen and plopped him into the chair that Rose usually sat in. James didn’t bother moving, and instead watched his friend go to the fridge and pull out a partially-drunk bottle of wine. He and Rose had opened that bottle last weekend. They’d snuggled on the sofa together and made a drinking game out of watching a cooking show together. Half way through the bottle, they’d gotten pleasantly tipsy and had stopped paying attention to the television in favor of making out.

Jack found the cabinet that contained the wine glasses and pulled down two of them. He sat at the table opposite of James, filled the glasses, and pushed one towards him. James gulped down half of it in one go.

“Okay. Tell me everything,” Jack said, topping off James’s wine glass.

The words poured out of him, from every heartbreaking thing Rose had told him, to everything he had said in return. Jack’s face remained impassive as James spoke, never once interrupting, even though James wasn’t sure he managed to capture all of the details as clearly as he would have preferred.

“I’ve ruined everything,” James concluded, polishing off the liquid in his glass before refilling it.

“No, you haven’t,” Jack said gently. “You buggered it up a little bit. But so did Rose. You brought up some valid points, James. You deserve to be in a relationship with someone who is honest and forthcoming. It isn’t a good balance for one person to constantly be sharing while the other remains a closed book. However, it’s not healthy to expect the same level of reciprocity from Rose as what you bring to the table. Especially when you haven’t been upfront with Rose about your expectations. And where you did bugger things up was with shooting yourself down so hard. Especially as a way to excuse what you’ve said, or assumptions you’ve made.”

“But… I genuinely feel like I’m at a complete and utter loss all the time,” James defended, ringing his fingertip around his wine glass. “It’s like… it’s like people innately know how to do this, this romance thing, and I’m bumbling along like an idiot.”

“Were you insecure in your friendship with Rose? Before you began dating? Did you feel any of this last semester?”

James paused, considering. He’d always had some butterflies when he spent time with Rose last semester, but for the most part, he’d simply enjoyed being in her presence. That hadn’t changed at all, despite their new relationship status. She had remained his best friend, the person he always wanted to be around, and the person he wanted to share every piece of his life with.

“No,” he whispered, pressing his fingertips into his eyes.

“Soooo… what’s the difference between being Rose’s friend versus being her boyfriend? I mean, I assume by now that you’re having sex? Apart from that, it’s not like anything really changed. Is the sex bad or something? Do you not like it?”

James felt his cheeks heating as his stomach twisted. Being intimate with Rose was one of the most special things he’d ever shared with someone. Not only did it feel brilliant, better than he ever thought physical pleasure could be, but it was equally as emotionally satisfying. Being vulnerable with Rose hadn’t been terrifying or overwhelming, but rather comforting. There had been nobody he trusted more than Rose.

“No,” he croaked. “No, it’s been… it’s been incredible. Everything with her has been incredible.”

“Has Rose given any indication that she has been dissatisfied with you in any way? Not even with the sex, but just…” Jack waved his hands around in the air. “…in general?”

You’re everything I never thought I deserved to have.

Hot tears burned in his eyes then dripped down his cheeks. Every kiss she’d given him, every squeeze of her hand in his, every sleepy smile that spread across her face when she woke up and saw him… It all raced through his head, a testament to their love.

What have I done?

He pressed his palms into his eyes

“No,” he answered, his voice raw.

Jack sighed. “Oh, James.”

“I know!” He plonked his forehead down onto the table and curled his arms around his head, tugging on his hair until it hurt. “I fucked up, Jack.”

James heard the scraping of chair legs on the floor, then a warm body was pressed tightly into his own. Jack wrapped his arm around James’s shoulders, leaning into him in a sideways hug.

“Much like having sex,” Jack began, “having an argument takes more than one person. Most times, anyway. If either situation is being done by only one person, chances are they’re a wanker.”

James let out a weak laugh, even as his eyes and throat burned with more tears.

“Rose said some very hurtful things,” Jack said, rubbing his hand soothingly up and down James’s arm. “She needs to apologize and address those. But you accused her of some pretty terrible things, too. From what you’ve said, Rose’s relationship with this Jimmy guy was toxic, if not abusive. It’s insulting for you to suggest she would want to go back into a relationship like that.”

James’s stomach ached. He had known for months that Rose’s relationship with Jimmy had been unhealthy, and that her heart had been badly broken. That should have been enough for him. Did he really need to know every single detail of her heartbreak?

No, he decided. No, he didn’t. However, he would have liked to have known that Jimmy had reached out to her. At the very least, James wanted to know why Rose hadn’t wanted to tell him Jimmy had contacted her.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” he admitted.

“At least you know you want to fix it,” Jack said, giving James a squeeze. “That’s a good start. It means you’ve determined that what you have with Rose is worth fighting for. But you need to take a long, hard look at what you want from this relationship, and more importantly, what you want from Rose. And you need to be receptive to what she wants from you and your relationship. And you need to work on your own insecurities and stop projecting them onto Rose. That’s a shitty thing to do, James. You have the insecurities, so it’s your job to work through them. Stop making excuses for yourself, and stop projecting them onto Rose.”

“Not sugar coating this at all, are you?” James muttered, though he knew Jack’s advice was sound.

“Nope. I’ve let you mope for a half hour, but now you need to start making things right. And remember. You can only change yourself—you can’t change Rose. So decide what you’re willing to put up with, because she might never be as open as you want her to be. But also set some boundaries for yourself. A relationship is give and take, and lots of compromise. You can’t keep giving and giving and giving, or else you’re not going to have anything left.”

James cocked his head to the side and peeked up at Jack. “Do you have a degree in relationship counseling that I don’t know about?”

Jack laughed, and took his arm away from James’s shoulders to instead ruffle his hair. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“But how do I start a conversation with Rose to tell her I want to fix things?” James asked.

Jack pursed his lips and tapped his finger to his chin in mock thought. “Have you considered anything like “Hi Rose, I really want to make up and then make out”?”

James snorted. “I’ll think of something else. Oh, and I might have some furniture coming tomorrow or Saturday. Wanna help me move stuff?”

Jack winked. “You know, I think I’m busy. Why don’t you see if Rose is free?”

“Subtle,” James drawled. He then sighed. “Thanks for stopping by, Jack.”

“See, aren’t you glad I wasn’t put off by your less-than-warm welcome? If you want to practice your apology skills, I’ll take one.”

“Okay, I think it’s time we said goodbye,” James said, dragging his weary body up from the chair. He collected their empty wine glasses and set them in the sink.

“A piece of advice, don’t try that one with Rose. Maybe try a kiss or two. I’ll take one of those, if you’re offering.”

James rolled his eyes and lightly shoved his friend out of the kitchen. They’d only made it a few steps when the doorbell rang.

“Bit late for a social call, isn’t it?” Jack asked, frowning at James.

James gestured up and down the length of Jack’s body. “You can talk, showing up here at nine o’clock.”

“Touché. Late-night furniture delivery?”

“I haven’t ordered anything yet. Besides, no one would deliver this late.”

Shrugging, James stepped ahead of his friend to yank open the front door. His breath left him in a sharp, little whoosh when he beheld the person standing in the yellow glow of the porch light, cradling a small, plastic container to her stomach.

“Rose.”

My Science Buff

A/N: Those who play Lovelink know Marco Bottazzi. He recently when grey on me, I miss him so decided to do a FF especially for him! He makes it hard not to fall for him while he sets you up with his best friend. This might be a one shot piece or I might continue I’m not sure yet. Let me know if you would like to be tagged or untagged!

Find my other Marco Bottazzi FF HERE on my masterlist under Lovelink - One shots. Along with my Rory Bear & Shopping Trip (Rory O’Brien), Tattoo Artist to Businessman (Blake Bailey) & Photogenic (Dominic Wright) FF. .

Comments always welcome!

Word count: 1649

WARNINGS: ⚠️ MILD NSFW & Fluffy fluff

Disclaimer: Characters are property of Lovelink.

Pairings: Marco X MC - Naomi

Enjoy!

*1 New Message on Lovelink from Marco*

[Hey Naomi, I've broken things off with Sally. She also admitted she has feelings for Taylor. She still loves me but not in the same way she used to. She also said she was forced to realize our spark had disappeared the moment she saw us together]

[Hi handsome, I hope you are ok? Wow, talk about string you along....! So what happens now?]

[*Blushing!* I'm actually........relieved don't get me wrong, I am a little sad 10 years is a long time, but we have been dead in the water for a while it took meeting you to realize that. Now? Sally has moved back to her parents until I find somewhere to live. I was hoping this also means I could take you on a proper date JUST me and you?]

[Just goes to show when you are too close to someone you never really see the situation right in front of you. It always takes an outsider to see what you have become blind to. Sound like you have a plan. A date? Not too soon?]

[Ouch! But I know you are right. Yeah, I can't wait to move on with my life. Too soon? I don't think it is unless you have changed your mind?]

[I am always right, I thought you had figured that out already haha! I haven't changed my mind, I'm just worried it might be too soon for you?]

[I have lol! Definitely not too soon. I want to take you on a date just me and you. A real date please? :( ]

[You are a fast learner haha. OK, how can I say no to a sad face?]

[I am! You can't ;) why don't you come here and I'll teach you how to make Ramen?]

[I'm not comfortable with coming to yours and Sally's place! What if you came here instead?]

[Ok, that's fine. Yeah, I'll grab the ingredients on the way. Are you free tomorrow night?]

[Great, I can't wait! Tomorrow is fine. I get back from work at 5 so shall we say 6 maybe 7?]

[I can't wait either. Awesome I'm excited to see you! Is 7 ok?]

[I am too! 7 is perfect! Do you need me to get anything?]

[Awesome! I'll see you then. Text me your address and no I'll grab everything on the way]

~*~*~*~

The next day I get in from work and go for a shower, I decide on a navy polka dot dress. I leave my hair with wavy curls, I'm just finishing my make up when I hear a knock at the door. I look up at the clock, it only 6.41 pm he's early! I spray myself with perfume and head to the door. I open it, and he stood there with a massive bouquet of flowers.

He's wearing a grey suit and a white unbuttoned shirt, just looking at him gives me butterflies!

"Marco, you didn't have to get those"

"Naomi, I wanted to give you a real romantic date! You look beautiful"

"Thank you, you don't look too bad yourself. Come in,"

He smiles, hands me the flowers as we step inside. "You have a gorgeous home Naomi"

"Thanks, the kitchen is this way" I lead him to the kitchen.

We get to the kitchen, he puts the bags on the side and empties the bags.

"So, what do we need to do?" 

"Chop and wash the ingredients first, then stir fry the pork mince," he says.

"Great, let's get started,"

He smiles "I got us some wine too"

"Great, I'm looking forward to this!"

"Me too!" he smirks.

I get to work on chopping while he cooks the pork. We move around the kitchen together. Each time I look over at him, he's already looking at me. My cheeks burn as I blush. I set up the table as he finishes cooking and dishes up.  I grab the wine and a couple of glasses as he takes over the plates.

We take our seats "Dig in" He says.

As soon as I put the first mouthful in, it's like an explosion of flavours in my mouth "Oh my god Marco this is amazing!"

His face lights up "I'm glad you like it"

"Like it? I love it. Please tell me there is more?"

"There is loads more. Probably enough to feed you for a week" He says.

I laugh. After dinner, I start to clean up when his arms come around me and I turn in his arms to face him.

"Hey" He smiles.

"Hi" my heart is racing.

He brushes a strand of hair away from my face, he leans in his face inches from mine. I close the gap crashing my lips to his, the kiss is electrifying my hands' come round to the nape of his neck and his tongue invades my mouth. He pulls me tighter to him as he deepens the kiss, he lifts me onto the counter this kiss becomes more fierce.

His hand starts to run up my thigh and slips under my dress. We can't get enough of each other, he finds my centre and he brushes against me.

"Marco......we should stop"

He pulls away confused. "Marco, don't get me wrong, I want to I really do but I don't want to rush this. I want it to be special"

He smiles "You're right, let's take it slow"

He helps me down off the kitchen counter "Hey, I forgot dessert!" He pulls a tray out of his shopping bag and unwraps the brown paper.

"I hope you like homemade chocolate brownies"

My face light up "Brownies? You made brownies?"

"Yeah, I thought you might like them?"

"You're going to have to fight me for some" I grab the tray and run but he chases after me.

"Hey!! Come back here with those brownies!" He shouts.

I laugh running away from him, I run behind the couch, and he's on the other side.

"NAOMI!" he says with a smirk

I take a brownie from the tray and take a huge bite "Oh wow! These are amazing! They might even be better than sex!"

He laughs "That's probably because you haven't had sex with me yet" he winks and I blush, this distracts me so I don't have time to react when he jumps on and over my couch and grabs me.

"Ahhhh!" I scream as he takes the tray off me "One, that was sneaky and two, no shoes on my couch!"

He laughs, "Sorry, I'll make it up to you by baking you a mountain load of brownies?"

I smirk "Ok, I forgive you!"

"Good, now let's sit down and eat these" he takes my hand and leads me back to the dining table.

"So, have you found a place to stay?" I ask.

"I actually viewed a place 5 minutes away from here before our date"

"Ooo, so we could be neighbors?!"

He laughs, "Yeah, I guess so!"

"Have you spoken to Taylor since the other day?" I ask.

"Nope, he's being awkward with me. He is ignoring my calls at the moment"

"Why? You did what he asked you to do!"

"I don't know. To be honest with you since he told me about his feelings for Sally. I don't feel like I know him anymore. If that makes sense?"

"Perfect sense! Especially since he's kept a secret from you for so long"

He gives me a weak smile "Let's not talk about them. This is our date, not theirs"

I smile, "So as it's our date. Have you seen there is a Science convention at the weekend?"

His face lights up "Yeah, I actually have two tickets for me and Tay...." he cuts himself off.

"So you are going by yourself?" I ask.

"Yeah, I am now," he says.

"Tell me no if you want but if you still have Taylor's ticket I would love to go with you!"

He's beaming "Really? You would come with me?"

I laugh, "Of course! If you invite me that is!"

He smirks "You said you weren't much of a science buff!"

"I might not be but it's something you like, so I want to take an interest in it. You might have to explain a lot to me, but I'm willing to learn if you're willing to teach? Pun intended" I wink.

"Wow, Sally would never com....know what I would love for you to be my date!"

"Ooo I didn't know it would be a date! I'll have to wear a super sexy outfit" I say with a grin.

"Not too sexy you'll give all those nerds a heart attack" he laughs.

A little while later he's leaving.

"Text me when you're home?"

He smiles "Will do! Thanks for tonight Naomi!"

"Thank you for all the amazing food!" He pulls me to him and plants a soft kiss against my lips.

"I'm so looking forward to this weekend!" He says as he pulls away.

"Me too!" I wink.

He walks down the steps and starts walking down the street to his car as he drives past and waves.

20 minutes later I'm getting ready for bed when my phone vibrates.

*1 New Message on Lovelink from Marco*

[Hey, gorgeous! I really enjoyed tonight and I'm home BTW! Also, do you think we could actually exchange numbers now? Rather than talking through a dating app? X]

[Hi handsome, I had a fab night too so thank you. Glad you made it home safe! Mister Bottazzi I never give my number out before I put out ;P So you have 1, 2, or maybe 5 dates before you earn that privilege! ;) Night xx]

[HOLY CRAP! Now that's all I can think about :( X]

[You're welcome! Nighty night xx]

[I'm going for a cold shower. Sweet dreams X]

I’m tagging you because I know your a Lovelink fan lovely @khoicesbyk​

A Bandaid For Your Bullet Hole - (Chp. 2/?)

Read Below or on AO3/FF

TW: Mentions of overdose

August 2009

“Mom, I’ve got all my stuff in the ca….” Chloe’s sentence is swallowed back up into the atmosphere when she walks back into the living room, “you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Chloe’s mom is sitting in the middle of the sofa, her arms wrapped tightly around a scruffy looking man in a mechanics uniform. There’s a few half empty bottles of booze on the coffee table and a lit joint between her mother’s fingers. She laughs airily at some dumb remark the stranger practically underneath her makes. She’s as high as a kite and probably drunk to boot.

“Chloe!” her mom’s eyes light up at the sight of her only daughter, “come have a drink baby.”

The only good thing about her mom getting high instead of drunk is that she is much happier. Her mom is an angry drunk, she turns into someone that Chloe scarcely recognizes. At least when she’s high she somewhat resembles someone Chloe used to know.

“What happened to taking me to college today?” she snaps, completely ignoring her mother’s request.

“That was today?” she asks dumbly, bringing her glass tumbler to her lips, taking a long sip of dark amber liquid.

Chloe groans frustratedly, “We’ve been talking about it for weeks.”

“Calm down princess, we can still do it,” she’s got to be kidding, she’s not going to let her mom drive anywhere like this.

Chloe shakes her head vigorously, “No. It’s fine, I’ll just stuff everything into my car and do it myself. You clearly have more important things to do.”

Her words must permeated through her mom’s hazy brain because she’s jumping up from the sofa, some of her drink sloshing out of her glass and onto the cream colored carpet, “No, Chloe let me do this. I want to do this.”

“I’m not taking you anywhere like this,” Chloe motions up and down her mother’s body, “you would just be an embarrassment.”

Her expression almost looks hurt before it turns bitter, “If that’s how you feel about me, then fine do it all on your own. See if I care.”

Chloe turns around without another word. She mindlessly shoves all her belongings into her little chevy impala, barely getting in everything she needs. She doesn’t even bother to go inside to say goodbye before driving down the road. It’s time for a new beginning, a new life, one she doesn’t have to hate. She has a good feeling about Barden, hopefully her gut is right.

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

December 2012

The winter air is crisp, sending a shiver down Chloe’s spine as her and Beca walk towards her dorm. They just left Bellas rehearsal and the air almost feels good after all the exercise.

“So, what are you doing for winter break?” Beca breaks the comfortable silence, shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her coat.

Chloe shrugs, “I’ll probably stay on campus, I might go visit my brother, if he’s going to be around.”

Beca looks at her dumbly for a moment before composing herself again, “You aren’t going home for Christmas?”

Her and Beca have gotten really close this semester, Chloe might even dare to say she’s her best friend…if she didn’t have a heart stopping crush on the younger girl that is. Even so, she’s not sure if she wants to unpack her reasoning for never going home yet.

“Nope,” she answers the question simply, hoping Beca will just take the answer and let the topic drop.

She knew she wasn’t going to be that lucky, because Beca doesn’t care about anyone…anyone but her it seems. Chloe is the only person Beca goes the extra mile for, at least from Chloe’s point of view, that’s how it seems.

“Why?” the question barely surprises her as it come out of Beca’s mouth, her breath leaving a puff of white in the air.

“It’s a long story,” Chloe tries her best to deflect, but she knows Beca won’t give it up.

Maybe opening up to someone else would feel good. Maybe to weight of her problems would feel a little lighter.

“I’ve got time, we can go get coffee?” Beca looks at her hopefully, “My treat?”

“I thought you were having a movie night with Jesse,” Beca had been talking about it all week, the excitement of a new relationship and all.

That’s another thing that has been making Chloe feel even worse than she does at this time of the year. She had a bad feeling Beca would end up with him…she had a bad feeling she was straight. Chloe loves their friendship, but it just makes everything that much more painful.

“You were literally coming to my dorm to hang anyways, that’s not until later,” Beca laughs.

Chloe’s cheeks burn red, “Oh yea, sorry, blonde moment I guess?”

“You’re not even blonde, you don’t get to use that one.”

Chloe gives Beca a playful shove, “Shut up.��

After another five minutes of walking, they finally end up at the coffee shop. Before Chloe knows it, there’s a steaming hot cup in her hands and Beca looking across the table at her expectantly.

“So now, why don’t you go home for Christmas?” Beca parrots the question from earlier, making Chloe squirm uncomfortably in her seat.

“So, I guess it all really started when my dad died,” Chloe twirls the paper cup in her hands, attempting to channel her nerves into something else.

Beca nods, encouraging her on.

“My mom kind of self-imploded after his death…it started with drinking. It just spiraled from there, drugs, lots of sex with random men. It made all four years of high school miserable for me,” Chloe can feel tears threating to spill, she never talks about this, “after my first Christmas back home in college I vowed to never go back until she got her shit together.”

A hand reaches across the table to settle over her own. Chloe looks up into Beca’s eyes, which are sad and empathetic. It makes her feel comfortable, grounded, Beca’s hand against her own. Her fingers twitch underneath the touch, she never wants to break the contact.

“I’m so sorry Chloe,” Beca says softly, “that must be really hard…so I take it she’s still pretty bad?”

Chloe nods slowly, “Uh yea, I’ve tried to get her to go to rehab but she won’t listen, I’m worried she never will.”

“I know this is nothing compared to what you dealt with,” Beca looks vulnerable as she speaks, “but high school was really rough for me too. My parents got a divorce and my dad married my now step monster. I felt so betrayed, I felt like nothing would ever be right again. I felt like my dad was giving up on me.”

“I’m glad you shared that,” Chloe turns her hand so it’s holding Beca’s instead of lying limply below hers, “I’m glad I’m not the only one with a shitty story.”

“I mean you definitely win if we’re comparing, but yea, it was nothing to write home about,” Beca smirks.

Beca finally pulls her hand away and Chloe instantly misses her touch. She quickly moves her hand back to her cup, lifting it to her mouth, not wanting Beca to know how much the little contact affected her.

“Do you want to come home with me for Christmas?” Beca asks after a few moments of silence.

The question practically makes Chloe choke on her latte, “I couldn’t do that Bec. Your family doesn’t even know me.”

“They know of you,” Beca replies nonchalantly, “plus they would love you.”

“So, you’ve talked about me to your family?” Chloe quirks an eyebrow.

It’s Beca’s turn for her cheeks to fade into a light shade of red, “They were asking if I made any friends…so I told them about you.”

“Don’t be embarrassed Beca, I love that you’ve told them about me. If I talked to my mom, she would know about you, because you’re one of the best things about this semester,” Chloe says honestly, hoping the blunt truth doesn’t weird the other girl out.

A smile the size of Texas spreads across Beca’s face. She doesn’t seem sure how to respond, but Chloe knows she probably feels similarly if her expression is to judge.

“Shouldn’t you be asking Jesse to go home with you for Christmas instead of me?” Chloe suddenly remembers Beca’s boyfriend.

Beca shakes her head no, “He has his own family to go home to, plus I’ve only been dating him for a month. I’d much rather have you come with me…especially because I want to save you from having to be here for three weeks.”

“I’ll think about it,” Chloe finally answers Beca’s offer.

She’s going to have to think hard about it, the last time she went home with someone for Christmas…well let’s just say it’s not a fond memory. It was an almost eerily similar situation. She had known Aubrey for one semester and after the blonde found out about her mom, she had invited her home for Christmas. She also needs to remind herself that it was a very different situation all together.

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

December 2009

There’s no hiding the fact that Chloe is scared to go home for Christmas. She’s scared about what she’s going to find. It’s the first time her mom has been alone for that long. Chloe watched out for her more than a teenage daughter should.

She also left on bad terms in the fall.

She could walk into anything really, which is terrifying. Which is why the whole drive back to South Carolina, Chloe is practically shaking with nerves. She probably shouldn’t have loaded up on coffee like she did, the caffeine isn’t helping. Aubrey has called her on and off, offering her support…and the reminder that she can go to Aubrey’s house if it’s too bad. Chloe was determined to make this work though; she didn’t want to run away on her mom completely. Chloe is not a quitter.

About an hour later she finally pulls into the driveway of her mom’s house, the windows are dark even thought the sun set hours ago. That’s already not a good sign. Chloe puts the car into park and takes a deep shaky breath. She gets out of the car after a few moments of composing herself.

She slings her bag over her shoulder and walks up the path to the front door, her hand shakes as she lifts the key to the lock. Chloe pushes the door open slowly, she can hear the TV blaring some infomercial for air tight containers. It’s the only light illuminating the living room. As Choe steps further in the door, she can see her mom’s identical mop of red hair flowing over the arm of the sofa, her hand hanging limply down onto the floor. She can’t make out much else with how dark the room is, the blue-ish light of the TV making everything look a little eerie.

An ice-cold feeling courses through her, her heart rate picking up. Something isn’t right, she can just feel it. Chloe throws her bag down onto the floor and rushes over to the sofa. It barely looks like her chest is moving up and down, her lips look a little blue. Out of the corner of her eye she sees a baggy of pills on the coffee table. Shit. This can’t be happening.

“Mom,” Chloe says firmly, “Mom!”

Nothing.

Chloe kneels down next to her and shakes her vigorously, “MOM.”

Her hands shake as she pulls her phone from the back pocket of her jeans. Her fingers can barely hold still as she dials 911.

The operator is calm and comforting. She walks Chloe through checking to see if her mom’s heart is still beating. She feels like she’s floating through some nightmare as she rips her mom’s shirt open and starts chest compressions. She has no clue how long she hammers into her mom’s chest before the door busts open and the paramedics are pushing her out of the way. Her vision blurs as she finally lets herself cry.

She’s not quite sure how she gets to the hospital. The world finally comes back into focus when a nurse carefully approaches her and asks if there’s anyone that she can call for her.

“Um, my best friend, Aubrey,” her voice sounds foreign to her.

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

When Chloe’s mom finally is stable and back at home, Chloe leaves to go back home with Aubrey. Before she leaves, it isn’t pretty, her and her mom scream and fight, but there is no way she’s ever going to come back home to that again. Chloe gives her a final ultimatum: Go and get some help or I’m done here.

Christmas is miserable, even though Aubrey’s family is warm, inviting and sympathetic. They make her feel like she’s family. Even so, Chloe has never felt more alone. She feels like she has nowhere to go. She has no one to bake her cookies to take back to her dorm or give her a hug that feels like home when she needs it or give her boy (or girl?) advice. She’s all alone and it’s something she’s going to have to get used to.

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

December 2012

“I’ll go home with you,” Chloe offhandedly mentions to Beca as they sit on the bed in Chloe’s room at the Bella house.

Beca’s eyes light up and the chips she was munching on practically fall out of her mouth, “Really?”

Chloe nods, after thinking about it, the idea of having people to spend Christmas with would be really nice. It’s something she hasn’t experienced since Christmas her freshman year.

“I would love to,” Chloe smiles happily at the younger girl next to her.

“That’s awesome!” Beca exclaims, “Oh shit, I’ve got to book the flight like now then.”

“You haven’t done that already?” Chloe looks at her quizzically.

Beca shrugs, “I was waiting to see if you would want to come first.”

“You could have missed out on getting tickets Bec, you shouldn’t have.”

“I know, it’s ok though, I wanted to,” Beca looks down at her phone, which has flight listings to Seattle already displayed, “get your snow boots ready Beale, it’s been chilly out there this year.”

“You know, I’ve only seen snow a couple times in my whole life,” Chloe already feels excited thinking about seeing the fluffy, white precipitation.

Beca’s eyes bug out, “Dude, we are so going sledding.”

For the first time in years, Chloe is starting to feel excited about this time of year. This might be the best Christmas she’s had in a long time…

Shopping with daddy OR Don’t be a brat!!! (My hero academia)

When your going to school, is there any better time of the year then summer vacation? Hell no, even if your school is far more awesome then most since your in training to be a superhero. And getting to spend your vacation with the love of your life, in a beach side cottage not far from a little town? Even better! However there could also be one tiny little problem with getting to share a bed with the love of your life for three months, If the prideful blond hair hot head failed to mention that he's a life long bed wetter. This was the sad fact facing Shoto as he woke up for the fifth morning in a row soaked by his boyfriends urine. The more powerful (in terms of raw power as well as muscles) teen scowled at Katsuki as the blond was still blissfully unaware of what he had done, snoring softly and sucking on his thumb. Grabbing his pillow Shoto was tempted, sorely tempted to whack the blond in the face with it, but instead held his breath and counted back from 10 before replacing it. "Wake up doofus. you soaked the bed. again." Shoto said, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. Katsuki snorted and slowly opened his eyes. "hmm what? Nggh.." and turned over, tugging his pillow over his head. "Five more minutes mommy." he said in a sleepy voice. Shoto smirked at that, but reached over and grabbed the pillow. "I'm not your mommy, and you need to get up. We're taking care of this today bed wetter." he said, though he couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice. Katsuki grumble and then opened his eyes, sitting up in bed and yawning, then froze. "I..I Uh.." he stammered, quickly realizing that he was in the pee soaked bed. "You wet the bed. I know. come up, Outta bed, I need to get the mattress out to dry. Again." Shoto said. "M-Maybe it wasn't me! you ever think maybe YOUR the one pissing the bed like a fucking toddler?" Katsuki huffed, blushing but scooting out of the bed all the same. "Really? I'm not even gonna dignify that with a answer. go get in the shower." Shoto said, rolling his eyes. "..Yeah ok." Katsuki said and scurried off. Shoto sighed and got out of bed, the poor mattress had been new but already was doomed to be pee stained for the rest of it's life. Stripping the blankets and sheets off of the soaked bed, he walked to the washing machine by the bathroom, glad to hear Katsuki was showering and stuffed the soiled bedding as well as his own soaked shorts in the machine, then noticed that Katsuki had 'thoughtfully' left his pissy PJ bottoms out for him. '..At least he's not trying to hide them till they stink the place up.' Shoto thought and added them to the wash and started up the load, before moving in to join his boyfriend in the shower.

After a nice hot shower, with some nice hot love making, Both boys were dressed and clean, and sitting down to enjoy a breakfast. Shoto was having toast and egg, while Katsuki was finishing off his box of Cap'n Crunch. "we're gonna need to go into town today." Katsuki said between mouthful's, milk dribbling down his chin but at least he was leaning over the bowl so his light green muscle shirt was getting milk stained. Shoto meanwhile was in a loose white t-shirt and both boys were rocking tan shorts and black sandals. "I was going into town anyways. and you're coming with me." Shoto said, carefully finishing ff the last of his food. "oh, what we getting? we're good for food otherwise..heh." Katsuki got a impish look on his face. "Unless you wanted ta check out that sex shop i pointed out last time you horn do-" "Oh for the love of..No. we're getting you bed time diapers." Shoto cut Katsuki off. the blond choked on his last spoon full of cereal and when he could speak glared at Shoto. "No.Fucking.Way!" he growled. "This isn't up for debate. You can either come with me willing, and have a say on what brand of diapers I get you, or you can go over my lap and get a spanking and be put on time out till I get back." Shoto said, and finished the last of his coffee, silently daring Katsuki to try and call his bluff. The fact of the matter was, Shoto had learned quickly that the only way to calm the brat down when he got going, was a good old fashion trip over a knee. (well actually, it had been Katsuki's mother who had let him in on it) "..Your a butt you know that? a total, farty BUTT!" was all the blond said. "mmmhmm. Do the dishes up while I put the mattress out on the railing to dry." Shoto said and got up and started to leave the room. "and flip me off again and I'ma wash your mouth out. " he added, not even turning around. "...How does he fucking do that?" Katsuki muttered, quickly lowering his hand, and getting the dishes gathered up from the table.

with each boys chore down, they headed into town, walking since it was just a five minute walk. or at least it normally was. Katsuki had decided to stage a silent protest of sorts by going as slow as he could, and it took them a full fifteen minutes to get to the all-mart. "Keep pressing your luck and I'll get a stroller for the walk back." Shoto warned the brat. "You don't have the BALLS to tr-" Katsuki started, and quickly faltered, looking down at the ground. "Y-Yeah ok." Shoto wished that he hadn't of made the threat as Katsuki was even more sulky now. Hoping maybe the bed wetter's attuide would improve with a little bit of a delay in getting his bed wetting pants, Shoto steered the cart to the grocery side of the store first. "...I wanna get more then just Cap'n Crunch." Katsuki spoke up as they came up to the cereal aisle. "Oh? "I want candy. LOTS of it." Shoto smirked, it was more or less sounding like the bed wetter had offered up a price of sorts if he was gonna have to get the bed wetting pants. "I think we can swing that. though you're not eating it all at once. last thing I want is you bouncing off the walls." "Oh come on! I'm not THAT bad!" "Remember what happened on Easter? the foot prints on your mother's ceiling?" Shoto asked. "W-well that was uh..you know..I got a big bag of those cream eggs..and..i didn't want them to melt..and Mom didn't have any room in the fridge!" Katsuki huffed, blushing. "That's not how I remember it..but fine. we'll go with your version of events. just not a lot at once, OK?" Shoto offered, smirking. "Yeah fine. Whatever!" Katsuki sulked. "Get the Cap'n crunch, I'll get the candy."   and with that he took off and Shoto just knew the brat would be coming back with a armful of sweets. "he's lucky he's amazing in the sack." he muttered, and wheeled toward the Cap'n Crunch.

Coming around the corner after getting the brat his cereal, and picking up a ag of coffee for himself, Shoto just smirked seeing Katsuki coming back towards him, arm's fulled with big bags of mini chocolate bars, cream eggs and the like. 'And in accordance with the prophecy..' he thought but kept his mouth shut. "Did you leave anything on the shelf for others?" Shoto teased. "heh, yeah, but not for lack of trying." Katsuki said then noticed the coffee in the cart. "Ick, why do you drink that stuff when we have chocolate syrup and milk at home?" "because a certain sweet tooth glares at me when i go to use any." Shoto teased. "heh. well you got me there. Alright, let's go and pay for this and get back home." Katsuki said quickly, starting to head for the check outs and reaching back to tug on the cart. "Nice try. we still have something else to pickup." Shoto said. "Come on, give me ONE more chance!" Katsuki whined. "If I thought that would really make a difference I would. now come on." Shoto said and started to head towards the pharmacy end of the store. "..This is bullshit! get them if you want, but I'll be waiting outside!" Katsuki growled and started to stomp his way out of the store, drawing attention from other customers. Katsuki Bakugo, you get your butt back here right this instant or I'm putting all of your candy back!" Shoto threatened. "I'm NOT going and getting stupid diapers with you! Diapers are for babies and I DON'T FUCKING NEED THEM!" Katsuki yelled, apparently unaware of all the people looking at them as he stomped a foot but was turning and facing Shoto. At least he was unaware till a teenaged girl started to snicker. "YOU GOT SOMETHING TO SAY BITCH?!" Katsuki growled, spinning around to face her, and Shoto moved quick. Grabbing Katsuki by the ear he gave the boy a firm swat across the butt. "little man, that is eno-" He started, talking over the yowl from Katsuki, but even then he was cut off as a loud thunder poot escaped from the blonds backside. "..Katsuki when was the last time you-" Shoto started to asked. Katsuki's bowels were a fickle thing, and the boy could go for days without a movement, but when it was ready to come out, he had little to NO warning time. "i..I.." Katsuki whined, and then with a crackling poot the back of his shorts started to darken and blossom out. "N-Nooooo!" Katsuki whimpered and whined, but was helpless to do anything as days worth of heavy food destroyed his briefs and weren't doing the shorts any favor either. the crowd was watching with mixed reactions, though most was amusement, at least until the smell hit them. and a few were just shocked at the mass growing in the back of the boys pants. Shoto should of felt bad for him, but given he'd been acting like a total brat and he was positive had been about to use his quirk on that girl, he was all out of mercy. "great, Just great. it's not enough that your wetting the bed every night, now your pooping your pants too?" Shoto asked, hands on his hips. "I..But..I.." Katsuki whined. "that's it mister man, we're going and getting diapers alright, and NOT just for night time! and I'm putting that candy back, clearly junk food is the last thing you need." Picking Katsuki up and carrying the mortified blond over to the cart, Shoto was sure that the blond knew what coming from the little bit of a fight he was able to put up. It didn't do him any good though as Shoto sat him down with a loud squish in the baby seat of the cart. "MAYBE if you watch your mouth and behave, I MIGHT let you keep the cream eggs. but your on thin ice mister." Shoto said and shook a finger at Katsuki who whimper and started to bawl, even as the crowd started to clap and cheer in approval. "one last thing, Say sorry to everyone." Shoto said, and stepped aside,. Katsuki sobbed and hiccuped, and though teary eyes looked at the crowd. "I.I'm sowwy." he lisped babyishly. The crowd loved it.

After that Shoto wheeled the cart to the pharmacy area and picked up not one, not two, but three of the extra thick overnight diapers that the store carried, as well as getting some baby bottles and a package of pacifiers. Katsuki started to wail loudly at that point so Shoto, after getting permission from a employee, opened the pack of paci and popped one in the smelly teens mouth. part of the crowd had followed them, since well they didn't really get much excitement and this beat the re runs that were playing on TV at the moment anyways. As Katsuki suckled on it and whined, a chuckle spread though the crowd. Shoto also got permission to open one of the packs of diapers and was allowed to use the usually employee's only bathroom to get the little stinker changed. the crowd helped up somewhat, offering to take back the candy as Katsuki got changed and Shoto just reminded them to leave a bag of the cream eggs for Katsuki, he had been behaved so far since going poopie. Getting Katsuki in the bathroom, Shoto shook his head. "I hope you understand you brought this ALL on yourself. if you hadn't of dragged your feet, or had all your little fits we'd of been home by now." he said, tugging the stinkers shorts off and tossing them in a trash bin. Katsuki wisely kept his paci in, and nodded, but reached for his short futilely as they went though the air into the trash can. "no no, those shorts are ruined buddy. and I'm NOT buying you a new pair. you'll be waddling home in diapers." Shoto said, smirking and Katsuki laid on his back on the cold floor, fists going to his eyes and rubbing them as he suckled and whimpered big time. Katsuki's lucky Ultra-man briefs were all but ruined and Katsuki paused in his crying to look down, then up at Shoto and shake his head no. "Buddy, their ruined.I have to toss them." Shoto said. Katsuki shook his head no again and brought his hands together, pleading. "-sigh- alright..alright..you can keep them.. but I'm not carrying them." Shoto said, and then smirked as he took out a diaper. "Butt up." Katsuki got a confused look on his face and pointed at his poopie undies. "Yeah I know. they're still poopie. you wanna keep'em, you can wear them under your diaper, and YOU can wash them in the sink wen we get home." Shoto said. Katsuki wrinkled his nose and shook his head no, going to hook his thumb in the waistband. "No no no, You made your case, and won. enjoy the fruit of success." Shoto said and gently but firmly moved the brat's hands away. "Now butt up." Katsuki started whimpering again even as he lifted his butt up and plopped back down with a squish on the soft diaper, and whined as Shoto started to sprinkle him with baby powder , then just took the top off of the container and dumped half of it in. "Don't wanna get attacked by a hoard of fly's on the way home." Shoto explained. Taping the diaper up, Shoto helped Katsuki get to his feet and laughed at how cute and ridiculous the now big baby look, his legs bowed out and he was clearly having trouble walking, doing a weird baby learning to walk waddle. As they started to head for the door, Shoto noticed that there was a black marker on a clip board on the door, for checking off a list of things to be cleaned and smirked. "Hold it a second stinker." he said, grabbing the marker and then getting behind Katsuki, kneeling down and writing. 'Warning! Poopie diaper! (sorry about the smell)' Putting the cap back on the marker and replacing it, Shoto lead the big baby out.

Their groceries, the ones they were keeping, had been taken up to a checkout as for obvious reasons the cart had to be cleaned, and the crowd chuckled and laughed, with some people even snapping pictures as Katsuki was lead, Holding daddies hand, to the check out. everything was scanned in fact save for the bag of cream eggs and the clerk gave Shoto a question look, smirking at the same time as Katsuki wiped his arm over his eyes and looked at Shoto hopefully. "oh..I suppose. I'm just a big softie." Shoto said and leaned down, kissing the big babies head. Paying for the groceries and heading out the door with Shoto carrying the heavier stuff and Katsuki the light stuff, and the big babies hand in daddies, Shoto realized that his summer vacation was going to be even better then he could of dreamed, if not a little more smelly.

The end

call me baby

summary: in which chenle gives you the entire world in exchange for some love

genre: crack, fluff and another pinch of angst 

theme: ceo!chenle (sugardaddy au but without the sexy shit its just he buys you things in exchange for you loving him ok? ok) 

word count: 2.8k

author’s note: HIIIII ITS BEEN A LONG ASS TIME SINCE I WROTE SOMETHING SO HERES THIS also theres no sexy time unless the sexy time u want is going on an endless shopping spree then this fic is for u!! its just another crack idea i had lol and this is just to get rid of writers block or smth despite having this in my drafts for the longest time

–

you know how people say not to chat with random strangers from the internet?

because it’s terrifying and shit??

well you never listened 

here you are on a friday night on your phone

looking for some 40 year olds to troll

on this sugar daddy app you randomly found one day

not like you needed money or whatever

you lived with your brother jaemin who’s a doctor

so i guess you could say u’re: $$$$

and it’s just that you have nothing to do

what’t the worst that could happen right?

ding!

your phone vibrates in your hand

it looks like you’ve matched with your designated sugar daddy

“congratulations! you’ve matched with 6chittaphon9”

you looked at his profile and saw that he’s a 23 year old dancer

not up for it, you swiped left

“give me the good shit bro” - you tell the phone

you clicked the globe icon on the bottom of the screen

it switched you to a radar where it scans for possible sugardaddies who use the app

a little later your phone dings again

“congratulations! you’ve matched with zhong$”

and when you clicked on his profile,,

you let out a big big gasp 

he’s a 18 year old ..

looking for.. sugar babies??

if you were drinking something then you would’ve spat out that liquid real quick

you swiped to the right and sent this dude a message

“hi”

ok so chenle right

chenle is the youngest billionaire in the world

bye kylie jenner oof

after his father’s passing, his company, zhongs inc. was in his hands

his father’s last wish was to have chenle get married at a young age

but chenle obviously didn’t like that idea

he wanted to experience a normal teenage life where he parties, drinks, date some random girls or whatever a pesky teenager does

so he found himself downloading a sugarbaby app

also just for the lolz like c’mon this is chenle the king of clownery

the c in chenle means clownery wbk

he had the money, the looks, almost anything you need for a man

so he quickly made his account

and not a minute later he already matched with someone named ‘<y/n3’

he sees that this y/n person already sent him a message

so obviously he replies

“hello”

you: asl?

chenle: 17 / m / seoul; u?

you: same except im a female

chenle: well ain’t that obvious

on the outside you bursted out laughing

you: ok capt. crunch so would you like telling me your name or is it confidential

chenle: i mean, i guess its kinda confidential but the company wont know anyway but im zhong chenle 

you: ????? are u important or sumn

chenle couldn’t believe his eyes

chenle: um.. im ZHONG chenle

you: whats so special with your name

chenle was actually quite glad you dont know about his name or his background

chenle: nothing so wyd

it didn’t take awhile for you two to get along 

since you two had the same type of humor and age

you: why are you on this app tho if you are “young and rich”

chenle: i could ask you the same question

you: its friday my dude and im bored 

chenle: well,,,,,,,,,,, idk my friend recommended it to me

you: you’re friends with a bunch of old people?

chenle: nO I MEAN YES?? I MEAN NO 

you: ... are u fucking with me

chenle: no i’m not fucking with you, im talking to u :D 

in the end chenle asks you if it was okay that he’ll send you some money for fun

chenle: yk this app is about sugardaddies looking for sugarbabies right so lets make the most of it and give me your paypal or venmo and ill send you some cash for talking to me <3 

you: wtf chenle no its fine!!! i had lots of fun talking to you and this app is just a whole ass joke but im glad i met a new friend here but its okay dont send me some money !!!!!

chenle: nooo think of it like i’m treating you out for some dinner so please allow me 

you: still ! i wont let you,, till i get to see you so i know youre not some 40 year old i still think you are

chenle: how many times do i have to tell you im really 18 years old ffs but sure, when are you free?

on the inside youre just like: ASJDHJHDUIADHASJKDAHAHD WHAT THE FUCK

you: uhh i have school so i’m always busy hehehe

chenle: then i’ll see you in your school, what school do you go to?

this kid doesnt know when to give up

you: hhhhhhh i guess then i’m free tomorrow 

chenle: GREAT! I’LL SEE YOU ON HONGDAE here’s my number boo

and there you have it

your first unofficial meet up with zhong chenle himself

you were too much in thought about meeting him you didnt even notice jaemin standing there with pizza in his hands

“what are you staring at sis?” - jaems

“uh nothing” you snatched the pizza from his hands

fast forward to tomorrow

you were getting nervous to meet chenle

“hey where are you going?” jaemin takes a peek of you in your room

can he stop scaring you like that

“going out” - u 

“going where?” - jaems

“hongdae”

“cuteee do you have a date today?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you

“no-”

“are you going out with that pizza delivery boy?!” jaemin suddenly gushes

“jeno?” you ask him

“yeah that one” - jaemin

“no, i’m just gonna go shopping” you brush him off

jaemin shrugs and gives you some pocket money to spend

“be safe and have fun” he closes the door of your room

after safely arriving in hongdae, you sat somewhere thats not that crowded

who knows if this chenle person is famous right

so there you were waiting for him to text you or something

and just like that, your phone rings

it was an unknown number

but you answer anyway

“hello this is chenle, may i ask if you are in gongcha right now?” 

you looked around the people who’s passing by hoping to see someone fancy looking holding their phones

suddenly someone stops right in front of you

“found you” 

with that, chenle hangs up and sits across the table from you

“hi, i’m chenle” he gives his hand out for you to shake

and man, you were shookt

he looks like an ordinary teenager 

or a hypebeast for this occasion 

“o-oh .. h-hello” you bow

chenle suddenly laughs at your reaction 

his laugh is beautiful 

“don’t be nervous baby, i mean no harm” he smiles

his smile that totally made your heart melt

“how could i not? you’re the youngest billionaire out here” you gushed

chenle shushes you after the billionaire part

“sorry about that, it’s just i don’t like it when people tell me that” he tells you casually

ok humble king

“have you ordered yet? if not let’s order right now, on me” he grabs his wallet from his pocket and heads inside gongcha

after taking your orders, you two sat outside again with your drinks

“so y/n.. tell me about yourself” chenle takes a sip of his drink

“well, like i told you last night, i’m a student in college and i live with my brother who’s a doctor and that’s about it.. what about you, mr. zhong” you giggled

“first of all, don’t call me mr. zhong. you can call me lele instead and i love music and i like to play the piano and sometimes i sing” he shares, showing off his pearly whites

and after some many more conversations with him, he finally asks you an important question

“ok last question” he laughs, “i know it’s kinda weird but i really like your company and i know we met through a sugar daddy/sugar baby app but would you like.. stay with me..?” he asks cautiously

you stared at him with wide eyes

“i’ll pay for everything you want.. just,, stay or keep me company..?”

you kept quiet, just in shock on what just happened

“it’s okay if you don’t want to, just forget that i asked” he laughs awkwardly

“no it’s okay, i’ll keep you company but please please don’t pay for everything. i can pay for myself” you tell him

“why not? i got money, i can spoil you with gifts” he looks at you confused

“if you can’t remember, i’ve got a brother who’s a doctor and i guess we’re loaded too you know” you roll your eyes at him

“pfft okay then so.. where were we” 

and with that you guys carry on your conversation 

months has passed and you’ve been with chenle through everything

every time something happened in his company, you were there comforting him or just keeping him sane through out everything

and within those months, you’ve seen different sides of him as well

like the serious side of him– when he’s in business meeting and you’re his plus one 

aside from his secretary of course

the funny side of him– when he’s cracking jokes to literally everyone

sometimes he takes days off in the midst of his own company just to pull pranks on his secretary, renjun

and of course, his vulnerable side– when he feels he can’t do what his father left him, the family legacy

there were night where you had to stay over at his place just to make him calm down or just to make sure he’s sleeping or eating well 

and tonight was those vulnerable nights of chenle

here you were in his room, on the floor holding his hand as he rants about how his day turned to shit 

“it’s just so.. hard you know?” he opens up, “when everyone expects you to follow a certain life but i’m not all about that business shit life! i want to sing or fucking play the piano or do some teenager shit not this paper work life!” his voice cracks at the end of his sentence

“ah shit i’m crying in front of you again” he laughs, wiping the tears 

you don’t say anything but held his hand tighter

“thanks y/n.. you’re the best” he smiles down at you

“anything for you, chenle. that’s why i’m here for you right? to keep you company” you smile back

“can you.. come up here with me” chenle motions for you to sit beside him on the bed

you agree and climbed up

chenle sits up awkwardly, staring at you.

“woah this is the first time i had a girl on my bed” he giggles

“then i’m honoured” you laugh

suddenly your phone vibrates multiple times

you take a look and its your brother looking for you

“who is it?” chenle asks

“it’s my brother, he said i should go home” you slowly push yourself from his comfy bed

“no, it’s late. i’ll take you home first thing in the morning” 

“i don’t want to be a burden to you lele” you say shyly

“you’re never a burden to me y/n” chenle smiles again

that night, you slept in his very arms for the first time

you wake up earlier that him and decided to prepare breakfast for him

you set the eggs and bacon on the table with orange juice

you smiled at your efforts, hoping he’d like it

chenle woke up in distraught since you were no where in sight

he was in his pajama pants and he rushed downstairs to check if you were still there

and thankfully, you were

you were on the dining table, waiting for him with breakfast ready

“good morning” he grins, face looking brighter than ever

you smile back at him, “good morning to you too, sleepyhead. help yourself with some breakfast”

chenle takes a seat and sips on the orange juice next to him, “did you make this?” he asks

you nod, “for you” 

you could’ve swore you saw him blush for a moment there 

and with that, you two ate in peace, just enjoying each other’s company

a few days later

you couldn’t make it to chenle’s office since you had classes and it was exam week 

chenle was obviously very lonely that week

even his own secretary checked up on him cause he was awfully quiet ever since you came into his life

“so how are you and y/n huh” renjun casually asks chenle who was busy reading papers on the table

“we’re doing great” chenle replies nonchalantly 

“are you two going steady now?”

that question made chenle halt to a stop on what he was doing

renjun notices that chenle turned quiet

“i never asked her to be official” chenle gasps, scaring renjun in the process

“wha-”

“renjun hyung can you get me the biggest bouquet bundle you can find” chenle rushes

renjun nods and grabs his ipad, looking for what chenle requested

“fuck.. what did y/n wanted again” chenle asks himself, trying to remember the bag or things you told him about

“call jisung and tell him we’re going to the mall” chenle tells renjun yet again, rushing to the elevator so he could go to the mall with his best buddy

“so what are we buying your special someone again?” jisung asks chenle who was busy pacing around the mall

“y/n said she wanted a bag but i cant remember what was it” chenle tells jisung who just looks as lost as he was

chenle ended up going to every luxury store they had in the mall

like louis vitton, gucci, prada, balenciaga, fendi

you name it he went there and bought one bag each

he even went to some make up stores thanks to jisung’s suggestion

surprisingly he had a girlfriend who was a makeup artist and puts make up on jisung’s face when they have nothing to do

and of course, chenle followed what his best friend suggested

now they were on their way back to your place cause you just texted chenle that you were almost done with your exam

chenle and jisung unload his car and went straight up to your apartment that you shared with your brother

and your brother answers the door

“uh chenle? what are you doing here?” jaemin answers the door

chenle stood there in shock once again, “jaemin hyung? you’re y/n’s brother?” he stares at jaemin confused.

jaemin nods slowly before realization hits him, “you’re the person y/n is seeing?!” 

chenle nods uncertainly, slightly offended you never told jaemin about him but quickly shrugs it off. 

“well surprise! now can you help us with this? i’m asking y/n to be my girlfriend when she arrives home” 

jaemin immediately steps in and helps the two boys

after an hour or so, everything is now set into place

now they were just waiting for you to arrive

chenle stood there with his usual work attire which was a formal suit, holding a big ass bouquet and the paper bags right behind him

“jisung how do i look?!” chenle looks at jisung who was showing him two thumbs up

“dashing bro, she’ll say yes in no time”

and as if on cue, you walked in

and to say you were shocked to see chenle standing there 

“lele! what are you doing here?” you covered your mouth in shock as you saw the never ending line of paper bags right behind him and the bouquet he was holding

“i’m here to ask you to be mine” he replies, staring at you once again

“does my brother know you’re here?” you look around your living room and you spot jaemin in the kitchen, watching the entire thing go down

“yeah. why didn’t you tell me he was your brother” chenle pouts, but shakes his head as he hands you the bouquet

chenle clears his throat once again, “na y/n.. would you be my first and last girlfriend?” he closes his eyes tight, waiting for your response

“i would be honoured” you take the bouquet off his hands and jumped into his arms

“about time you asked her” jisung comments in the background

“baby look, i got you some gifts!” chenle puts you down and shows you the abundant amount of things he got you

you smacked him in the chest, “what did i say about you giving me expensive gifts!” 

“let me spoil you, please? you showed me how loving someone wholeheartedly is priceless, and i want to return the favor in my own way” chenle shows you his infamous puppy eyes.

“lele you’re making me cry!” you tear up, hidng your face in his neck

“also because i can’t remember the thing you told me you wanted a few days ago so i had to compromise” chenle giggles

you were happy

and he was happy

who knew an app could bring you two together and end up like this

the end!

I came here for Hannibal but I’m so happy you played FF15 what did you think?

tbh I don’t even know what’s going on anymore, but I am playing a LOT of video games. Everything about gaming related is tagged with #gaming if you want to mute.

I played FFVIIR because it looked pretty, and I knew it was real time combat (and tbh I’m not sold on the turn based thing) and everyone seemed to really enjoy it so I played that and LOVED IT! I loved it so much more than I expected, I thought I’d play through it and it be an experience but BOY, I am far more into it than I thought (I killed Sephiroth on Normal mode first time super proud of myself!) It’s my second favourite game released this year only to Ghost of Tsushima, but I definitely preferred it to TL/OU2.

From there I wanted to play other FF games, but avoiding the turn based combat for now, so of course FFXV happened and I LOVED IT TOO! I got the platinum trophy I loved it so much and I don’t have many of those at all so that means a lot. The combat was loads of fun, the story is brilliant and engaging, the characters and their relationships with eachother are great, the unique mechanics were FAB, I loved the Regalia, I loved how you had to think about petrol, and servicing and having somewhere to sleep and eat as well as all the usual stuff, the aesthetic is very much up my street *cue Sparkly 30yo Noctis*

The only things I didn’t like was that firstly the enemy AI spawning was SO aggressive, I was like, level 25 and I was doing a side quest and I had 4 ships of level 47 assassins dropped on me one after the other and this sort of thing happened fairly regularly, so I don’t know if it’s a fault that other people saw or whether I had like no luck at all but it was relentless and it made in-story exploration almost impossible, I had to do most of my side questing post-game where it was less aggressive/I was strong enough it wasn’t a problem.

Also a couple of the boss fights were dull/poorly written. The Titan fight was stupid and the Adamantoise was boring af but the Leviathan fight is hands down one of the best boss fights I’ve ever done and Ifrit was great once you get in the flow it’s a lot of fun so the rest of the boss fights being great made up for the sucky ones.

In comparison to how much I loved the game my complaints are minor, I kinda view platinum trophies as stamps of approval on the game, I really don’t bother if I don’t adore the game (I don’t have Death Stranding’s because of those hard mode deliveries, I’ll get it some day I’m sure!) so the fact I bothered to get it means a lot. 

I got the season pass and am working my way through the DLC which I’m really enjoying too! I’m currently playing Prompto’s episode and I think I’ll get Ardyn too in the end (though I HATE Ardyn, I’d happily punch him in the face forever.)

But yeah, I’ve had such a good time with Final Fantasy games recently, I got VIII for PS3 for my birthday, which I’m hesitant about playing but I’m determined to give it a go. I’m presuming that VIIR will have a part 2 which I’m looking forward too.

It’s much easier to keep up with my gaming stuff on twitter I’m @/ IDFYTI on there (for now, that might change) I live tweet my gaming there and you can vote on what I play next and see shares from PS4. I occasionally stream on twitch (I was gunna stream my Adamantoise Platinum fight but it was SO boring I’m glad I didn’t!) but twitter is the easiest way if you’re interested in what I’m playing and my opinions on it.

Hope that answers your question!

Just a Day (1/1) - schitt’s creek ff

Christmas-related fluff, that’s all this is. David and Rachel run into each other and have a talk. Rated G, ~2500 words

David was focused on cookie ingredients with single-minded determination.

Clutching the hand-written list from Marcy, he squinted at the shelf in Patrick’s home-town grocery store (the store where a tiny Patrick had once thrown a screaming tantrum over being denied Froot Loops, if Clint was to be believed), looking for his prey. Spotting the brown sugar, David threw two bags into his cart and moved on to the confectioner’s sugar.

He didn’t have a pen on him, so he tried to mentally check off each item as he put it in the cart. He didn’t want to forget anything for today’s Christmas cookie-baking extravaganza, a Brewer family tradition that David would be participating in for the first time. Rose Apothecary safely in the hands of their two employees for the week, David and Patrick were taking their first Christmas off since they opened the store. Thus, here David was on a quest from his mother-in-law, shopping in an unfamiliar store for cookie ingredients.

David zeroed in on the holiday-themed sprinkles next. (“Just get more red, I have plenty of green,” Marcy had said and then immediately widened her eyes at him in a slightly panicked expression, “unless we should get some Hanukkah colors, David?”) He was so engrossed in the sprinkle options that he didn’t notice the woman staring at him from further down the aisle at first. It wasn’t until he turned to head back to the dairy case that he came face-to-face with the familiar redhead.

Without saying anything, they took each other in. He’d never spoken a word to Rachel, but he recognized her immediately from that one awful afternoon his family tried to have a barbeque to celebrate his relationship with Patrick, and later, pictures of Patrick and Rachel together that peppered the Brewers’ family photo albums. She seemed to recognize him as well, despite the brief time they’d had to take each other in.

“Marcy’s making cookies?” Rachel asked with a smirk and a gesture to his cart, as if they weren’t total strangers who only shared in common that one moment, when David learned Patrick was once engaged and Rachel learned that Patrick was gay. As if they’d already gotten the uncomfortable acknowledgements of who they were to each other out of the way.

David nodded. “Yes, she has a very ambitious list of cookie recipes.”

“Don’t underestimate her; she plans her baking like she’s planning a major military operation.” Because of course Rachel had shared some of these holiday traditions with the Brewers, how could she not have? All of these things that David was attempting to navigate on his absolute best behavior, trying to be the perfect husband and son-in-law, Rachel had already done. For just a second, he hated her for that.

“I have no doubt,” he said.

“Congrats on the…” Rachel gestured vaguely. “I heard you guys got married. And I saw some pictures on Facebook.”

David wrinkled his nose at that — not that she had seen pictures, but that there were apparently pictures from his wedding on Facebook. Probably posted by Marcy herself, if he had to guess, or maybe by one of the cousins. David had carefully edited the pictures he’d chosen to post on his own Instagram and had policed what Alexis posted as well; he hated to think what he might look like in these rogue Facebook pictures he hadn’t been aware of.

“We did, thank you,” he said. He tried to think of what else to say, but everything that occurred to him sounded patronizing.

“You don’t have to look so constipated, David. I’m over him. I moved to Toronto and I’m seeing someone else now.”

“I don’t look…” David sputtered before reining himself in. “I mean, I’m glad. That sounds… nice.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I guess it’s nice. How’s Patrick?”

Perfect. He’s a perfect husband and I can’t believe how lucky I am that we found each other. “He’s good.”

“He’s probably been grumpy over hockey lately, huh?”

He had been, because the Maple Leafs had a very bad start to the season (and the fact that David knew even that much was miraculous), but he hated that Rachel was right. “Is that the sport with the sticks?” he said, falling back on his I-don’t-follow-sports persona. Rachel rolled her eyes at him.

There was a part of David that wanted to sit Rachel down and split a bottle of wine (or two) with her and learn everything about Patrick that she knew and he didn’t. All the things that came out of that shared history they had together that David could only know from stories. But there was another part of David that rejected the very premise. The Patrick that Rachel had known wasn’t the real Patrick.

He started to wheel his cart forward again, slowly and with a tilt of his head to indicate she should walk with him. “So you’re in town visiting your family, I presume?” he asked her.

“Yeah. First time bringing the boyfriend home to meet my family, so that’s a whole thing. But we’re just doing the normal Christmas thing, you know. ”

He didn’t know, as neither his experiences with Christmas when the Roses were still rich nor his experiences in Schitt’s Creek fit into the rubric of ‘normal Christmas,’ but he assumed whatever Rachel was talking about fit into the same basic mold as his last couple of days with the Brewers. David nodded.

“This is the first Christmas we’ve been able to get away,” David volunteered. “We finally have enough staff to cover the store.” Then it occurred to him that Rachel might not know anything about the store if she hadn’t talked to Patrick since her one tragic visit to Schitt’s Creek. “We run the general store in town? We sell—”

“I know,” she said, and then averted her eyes to the rows of egg cartons they were passing, which made David stop and look at his list. He needed eggs.

“I follow you guys on Instagram. The store, I mean. I follow the store. I was just… curious what Patrick was doing for a living. And the pictures you post are pretty and sort of… soothing? So I still follow the account.”

David beamed at that as he picked up a carton of eggs and put them in his basket — he worked hard on the Instagram aesthetic for the store, an activity that Patrick occasionally roasted him for. He couldn’t wait to tell him that Rachel followed the Rose Apothecary account because she found it soothing.

Rachel reached over and picked up David’s eggs and opened the carton, scanning the contents. “You have to check and see if any are broken,” she explained. “Also, are twelve eggs enough?”

He threw up his hands. “The list doesn’t say — what do you think, should i get another dozen?”

“Yeah, get another dozen.”

He grabbed a carton, opening it and scanning the eggs for breaks the way Rachel had. “We’ve started carrying local eggs at the store,” he told her. “I didn’t want to at first, but we have a farmer who delivers them to us, and the markup on eggs is better than I thought it would be.”

“I’m glad Patrick’s happy,” Rachel said. “I know you probably don’t believe me, but—”

“In the years I’ve known him, Patrick’s never said a bad word about you, so I have no reason not to believe that you wish him the best.” He checked his list again. “I need to get butter. Marcy did put an amount here,” he said, showing Rachel the list, “but it seems patently ridiculous.”

Rachel laughed. “Four pounds? No, that’s probably right.”

“I’m going to gain so much weight on this trip,” David groaned, moving his cart again.

“Thank you for saying that, about Patrick not speaking ill of me. I worried for a while after that terrible visit to Schitt’s Creek that I’d fucked up his relationship. Especially when a long time went by and his parents didn’t seem to know anything about you guys being a couple.”

David made a weird half-laughing, half-groaning noise. “That’s a whole other long story. But no, you didn’t fuck anything up.” He began loading butter into his cart. “I almost fucked everything up by being an insecure ass about it.”

“He probably should have told you about his past, though,” Rachel said, grabbing a pound of butter for her own cart.

“Yes, well, it’s all ancient history now.” He headed toward the milk and grabbed a gallon.

“Did he ever tell you what he told me about you that day?” Rachel asked, and despite it all being in the past, David’s heart sped up, his palms getting sweaty on the grocery cart handle.

“I don’t remember. I never asked,” David said, rooted there in the dairy section, next to the half and half and the whipping cream.

“This was after he told me you guys were dating, and he gave me his official coming-out speech, I guess. And I shouted at him for not telling me before, and he said he hadn’t realized, and…” She waved her hand to dismiss that memory. “It was very hard to hear, that he’d never felt for me what I felt for him in all those years.”

“I’m sorry,” David said.

“That’s not the part I wanted to tell you. The part I wanted to tell you was that he said he’d fallen in love with you, that already he was imagining spending the rest of his life with you, even though he knew it was too soon to tell you any of that yet.” She smiled. “Since you’re married now I guess the cat is out of the bag, but still, I wanted to tell you how all-in Patrick was, even back then.”

David felt himself tearing up, and he did not want to cry in the dairy case of this grocery store, but it was a lot, hearing that. That Patrick had said he was in love with him, even back then, months before ‘I love you’ became a regular part of their vocabulary. “Thank you for telling me,” he whispered.

“I was horribly jealous of you and I hated you for a while,” Rachel said. “Sorry.”

David scoffed at that. “Oh, don’t worry about that, I’ve been hated by a lot of people in my life.”

“And for the record, you seem to be taking good care of him. I stopped hating you.”

David smirked, turning his cart back toward the baking aisle to get the chocolate chips he’d forgotten. “He takes care of me most of the time.”

“Okay, well, I’m going that way,” Rachel said, pointing over to another part of the store. “It was good to see you, David.”

“You too, Rachel. Merry Christmas.”

~*~

“Hey, do you need mfph—” David interrupted Patrick’s greeting with a kiss, a tote bag in each hand not stopping him from wrapping his arms around his husband and fusing their mouths together. As he pulled away, he saw Marcy glancing at them and smiling before she turned back to the dishes she was washing.

“Yes, I need some help bringing in the groceries,” David said.

‘Okay,” Patrick said mildly, but his eyes said he knew something was up with his husband. David set the totes he was carrying down on the kitchen table and then followed Patrick out to the car.

“Everything okay, David?” Patrick asked as soon as they were out of earshot from his mother.

“Yeah.” But then he stopped and faced Patrick as they stood at the trunk of the car. “Have I ever told you when I realized I might be in love with you?”

Patrick grinned. “I think you told me it was when I sang to you at our first open mic night.”

David put his hands on Patrick’s shoulders, his fingers working gently at the muscles underneath his sweater. “Okay, that was probably when I fell totally and completely in love with you. But there was another moment, before that.”

Patrick wrapped his arms around David’s waist. “Oh yeah?”

“Mm hmm.”

Patrick kissed him gently, just a soft peck of lips on lips. “When was that?”

“It was just a normal day at the store. You’d been helping Alexis study for a test and we had to stay late to do inventory, but I just remember looking over at you and thinking that I was falling in love with you. And then being really freaked out by that thought.”

“I wish I could remember the day you’re talking about,” Patrick said wistfully.

“It was just a day.” David gave him another kiss before disengaging from Patrick and grabbing two more bags to carry into the house. “You should call Rachel,” he blurted.

Patrick shot him a confused look. “I should what?”

“You’ve known each other your whole lives. It just seems a shame to throw that friendship away because—”

“Because I broke her heart?” Patrick said, holding the door open for David.

“She’s over it,” David said, setting the rest of his bags down. On Patrick’s raised eyebrow, he explained. “I saw her at the grocery store. She’s got a boyfriend from Toronto in town with her, apparently. Anyway, I think it would be good for you two to be friends again. ”

Patrick seemed to consider this. “Okay, I’ll call her. Maybe the four of us could go for drinks or something.”

“David, thank you so much for doing the shopping,” Marcy was saying as she unpacked and organized his haul. “Are you ready to learn to bake cookies?”

“Marcy, are you ready for the havoc I’m likely to wreak in your kitchen?”

She gave him a gentle slap on the arm. “I think I can keep you in line, David. Now let me show you how to use the electric mixer.”

David spent the next couple of hours laboring away with Marcy while Patrick went to play hockey with some of his cousins and Clint read a book by the fire. And there was a moment, later, when it struck him. He was chewing on a ginger cookie that he had made with his own hands in the warm embrace of his mother-in-law’s kitchen when his husband came in the front door, scarf secured around his neck and ruddy-cheeked from the cold, and David thought, I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life. It wasn’t a scary thought. It didn’t portend doom they way he used to think that his rare optimistic thoughts did. Today was just a day in a long line of days with the love of his life, stretched out into the future. David brought Patrick a cookie and kissed him on the cheek and smiled.

Jac & Amelia

Jac: [So the vibe is evidently just showing up at the pre-drinks at this gfs house, we'll have to be some level of wasted to have the nerve so from the off it's a mood lol] Amelia: [a select gathering of the gays that you weren't invited too, but it's okay because Amelia can't throw you out when everyone else is like yeah come through] Jac: [literally you'd have to make such a drama and that's not you and also no one knows why you stopped being besties so it clearly appears chill from the outside, I vote the club should be a gay one so you have to commit to that hen] Amelia: [agreed because clearly her gf has planned this because Amelia's plan was to go and get that haircut and outfit with her mum so] Jac: [too pure for this bitch, we all know this is just an excuse for her to party like any other night really, which is rude, do something special but no, at least you're simply that hoe so it's not like we even have to work hard here, the flirting is blatant] Amelia: [it hurts my heart because you know Jamelia would have gone IN for each other's birthdays] Jac: [and her last one was start of transition year so they would've still been friends, AND it was her 16th so it would've been really poppin'] Amelia: [brb sobbing] Jac: [thank god jac is also miserable and only pretending to be living her best life or this would be even ruder] Amelia: [and thank god Amelia isn't in love with this gal] Jac: [and that lmao] Jac: [to me it should be like they just straight up make out on the dance floor 'cos her girlfriend is the 'its not a big deal omg!' type but even if it weren't, it is because it's Jac] Amelia: [hence when Amelia loses it it's Jac she's shouting at and being like how could you do this to me etc not her gf] Jac: [mhmm mHM we all know she's barely speaking at this point so she's not gonna say anything and your gf will be going off 'cos she looks the gobby type so you can slap her if you need babe lol] Amelia: [she so is the gobby type, Amelia just straight up dismissing her because this isn't about you babe I gotta scream at Jac rn thank you] Jac: [meanwhile we're just trying to walk away like the audacity] Amelia: [literally like SAY SOMETHING! because is there anything more frustrating than when someone won't react and you're literally 💔] Jac: [there is not, just shouting 'I'M SORRY' ala Tracy because we do not sound sorry at all but she is never a loud person so everyone else is gonna be shook like damn] Amelia: [your aunt Cass would be proud of that, but Amelia just gonna walk away] Jac: [good lord go home gal, or at least a different club lol, also like to point out she has a September birthday so also would've been after Savannah left so that would've been cheery lol] Amelia: [nice parallel because we know Amelia's walking home but fuck knows how far it would be, we're not at Erin's house now hens] Jac: [I'm sure you don't live right in town, your fam seems a suburb type so that'll be a nice trek, you poor bitch] Amelia: [just sobbing the whole time probably, even though she's not a crier like Savannah is] Jac: [you'd have to have a cry, if Jac hadn't gone catatonic as a defence mechanism, she would be too] Amelia: [which is why we're not getting our parents to pick us up because don't wanna be sobbing to this degree in front of them and her mum already hates the gf so we don't want the I told you so either] Amelia: [plus her mum probably thinks she's over Jac by now because we downplaying things forever] Jac: [parents can only be so much of a MVP at this age] Amelia: [I think when they see each other again it should be another argument that turns into Amelia kissing her because that's a trope for a reason] Jac: [yes, you are both owed it without the audience tbh] Amelia: [like I have no idea where they are when that happens, are you gonna show up on her doorstep to have another argument or what gal lol] Jac: [maybe you had somewhere you went together, idk where or what vibe, so you know she's gonna be there, even if it's just a different club and you're outside angsting] Amelia: [ooh excellent, yeah there's any number of places that could be 'theirs' you've known each other long enough] Jac: [precisely, it can be as everyday and unspecial or the opposite as we'd like, Dublin centre is not that big it's not insane to suggest] Amelia: [when do you think that is, clearly pretty soon after because the emotions have gotta be high] Jac: [yeah, sooner rather than later, like we did this for a reason and like you said, it's too frustrating when someone won't react to you] Amelia: [literally could be the next day/night I'd believe it] Jac: [i literally thought you meant the same night so yes i agree lol] Amelia: [omg that's even better tbh] Jac: like you turn round like AND ANOTHER THING, tensions are beyond that high] Amelia: [exactly] Jac: [at least Amelia is angry enough to break it off 'cos the levels of fucks you don't give rn about anything] Amelia: [yeah she's angry and sad enough to be like ffs what am I doing and actually go home] Jac: [thanks babe, we all know it happens but don't need it to literally look like 2nd choice to your hoe gf 'cos it ain't that] Amelia: [how am I gonna start a convo from here because I clearly am lol] Jac: [thank god you both drunk, I can do it if you want] Amelia: [go ahead if you think you can boo] Jac: you home safe Amelia: no, I'm dead in a ditch Jac: great Amelia: it'll make life easier for you, yeah Jac: my life couldn't be any rosier Amelia: 🥀🥀🥀 Jac: glad to see your flare for the dramatic ain't died in that ditch with you Jac: flair, which one Jac: idk Amelia: you took that over from me, remember Amelia: you really fucking did Jac: aren't you impressed Amelia: if you'd got there earlier you could've pushed me out of the way to blow the candles out on the cake my mum bought too Jac: you don't wanna be kids no more? Jac: could've said sooner Amelia: she's not a doll, she just wants to look like one Jac: who? Amelia: the girlfriend you wanted to share so badly Jac: oh her Jac: bride of chucky maybe Amelia: you did scare everyone with your apology Amelia: very exorcist-ish Jac: I was going for Carrie Jac: oh well Jac: still a better match than you two ain't it Amelia: oh you were trying to win a prom queen sash with acts of charity Amelia: I get it Jac: shouldn't you be throwing all this shade at her Amelia: wait, I'll add her in Jac: ha Jac: go ahead Amelia: she won't accept, sorry Amelia: I did try Jac: devastating Amelia: are you home safe? Jac: yeah Amelia: you do have the 👿👹👺👻 inside protecting you, I guess Jac: its always got a home inside me Amelia: well yeah, you don't ever kiss anyone long enough for it to transfer hosts Jac: you'll wanna get rid of the girlfriend then Jac: before you get infected Amelia: you already did that for me, such a good 🥳🎂🎁 Jac: couldn't think what else to get ya Amelia: 💐? Amelia: no? Jac: thought she might have beat me to it Jac: made a bit of an effort Amelia: she wanted me, that's all I needed Jac: past tense Jac: and that's definitely not the first time she's done that Amelia: what do you care? Jac: you think this is how i'd show it if I did Amelia: I try not to think about you anymore Jac: there's no need to make yourself sound stupid in the process Amelia: not when you're there to make me look it Jac: you'll get another girlfriend Amelia: because that's what is ripping my heart out about this Jac: that's your problem Amelia: stay the fuck away from me Amelia: if you'd done that I wouldn't have a problem Jac: I plan on it Jac: done what I needed to do Amelia: great Jac: enjoy what's left of your big day then Jac: have some 🎂 Amelia: you've made sure I can't Amelia: where's Savannah Moore with a 👏 emoji when you need her? Jac: Sligo Jac: last I heard Amelia: those poor country lads Jac: you've never cared about any lad a day in your life Jac: you can just admit you miss her Amelia: 😂 Jac: hilarious Amelia: not really Amelia: but I physically can't cry any more, I must be dehydrated Jac: unsurprising Jac: me either Amelia: 🍾🥂 Amelia: have a nice life then Amelia: probably leave tonight out of your achievements during the uni interviews Jac: nah Jac: diversity and adversity is all the rage Amelia: that's why I'll be mentioning it Jac: you're welcome x2 Amelia: 🙌 Jac: you sure she don't wanna join Jac: 'cos she's annoying me Amelia: I don't care what she wants or feel sorry for you Jac: yeah Jac: then tell her that Jac: not relaying your message Amelia: I have Jac: she's a liar too, makes sense Amelia: you're well suited Jac: besides the obvious Amelia: that you've done what you needed to do, yeah Amelia: tell her that Jac: I have Jac: not my fault she's so thick she only understands actions Amelia: if she's been messaging you since the 💋 you'll have had time to tell her everything I didn't Amelia: even if it has to be via charades Jac: the fact I didn't fuck her is all the information she's getting from me Amelia: the dancefloor's a bit public even for her Amelia: but maybe she'll be willing to break the rules for you, that's what people do Jac: let's not pretend it was about her Jac: only room for one delusional person in a relationship, don't you know? Amelia: you're ready for that, are you? Amelia: I don't know anything about relationships as it turns out Jac: first cut is the deepest Amelia: if you're going to sing, it's meant to be Happy Birthday Jac: yeah, you wish Amelia: I only got the one and I've already used it Jac: don't tell or it won't come true Amelia: I don't remember it now anyway Jac: bullshit Amelia: if it was 💇🏻 related it definitely didn't come true Jac: you didn't get a fringe Amelia: I still hate it Jac: it's not why you got cheated on Amelia: thanks, that makes me feel loads better about 👧🏻 Amelia: can you just take the posts down please Jac: I dunno Amelia: Jac Jac: fuck sake Jac: one thing Amelia: just do it Jac: then that's it Jac: there's your present, I don't owe you nothing Amelia: no, then that's it because I don't want anything to do with you Amelia: it doesn't make us even Jac: I don't give a shit about being even with you Jac: I win Jac: end of Amelia: it's not a fucking game Jac: you're the only one not playing Amelia: so leave me out of it Jac: that's another favour Jac: pick one Amelia: fuck you Jac: i'm keeping the pictures up then Amelia: enjoy your win Jac: naturally Amelia: 👏👏👏 Jac: you aren't her Amelia: you aren't you Amelia: it still doesn't make us even Jac: maybe you never knew me Jac: we weren't friends, after-all Amelia: there's no maybe about it, if we were ever friends you wouldn't treat me like this Jac: nothing is as simple as you'd like it to be Jac: but sure Amelia: you really hurt me again, it's that simple Amelia: and this time it was deliberate Jac: and you don't hurt the people you love Jac: grow up, Amelia Amelia: not like that Jac: that's easier for you Amelia: what about ANY of this is easy for me? Amelia: you told me to try, I did Amelia: now what? Jac: it isn't my responsibility to worry about that Jac: you figure it out Amelia: I had it figured out and you tore it down Amelia: take some fucking responsibility for that Jac: what, with your shit girlfriend who doesn't give a fuck about you Jac: that was wrecked before I got there Jac: deal with that Amelia: you wrecked me before she got there Amelia: I still think about you all the time, miss you all the time Amelia: and I do have to deal with that, all the time Jac: and I've got nothing to deal with Amelia: of course you do Amelia: happy people don't gatecrash and ruin other people's birthdays Jac: then you'll forgive me for not feeling sorry for you Amelia: I don't want you to feel sorry for me, I want you to be sorry for what you just did Jac: you want a lot Amelia: not this time Amelia: it's bare minimum Jac: I'm happy to disappoint and leave you wanting Amelia: then you win again Amelia: congratulations Jac: yipee Amelia: Don't contact me again unless you're got something to say that means something Jac: fine Amelia: you sound faker than Savannah could ever Amelia: it'd be impressive if it worked Jac: have I contacted you before now? Amelia: that doesn't matter because today you did Jac: today I ruined your relationship and birthday Jac: then I asked if you got home Amelia: yeah, and that all means something Jac: it means I wanted to fuck up your life Amelia: at least that wish came true Jac: there's always shooting stars and eyelashes when there isn't candles Amelia: there isn't a quick fix for this Jac: there's no fix Jac: there's only out and it's still 2 fucking years away Amelia: you were supposed to give me time, that's supposed to be one Jac: well I didn't feel like it today Amelia: clearly Jac: get over it Amelia: I'm not even through it, it literally just happened Jac: I'm not apologising, I can't be any clearer Amelia: then don't Amelia: I didn't know how to beg you when we were friends, I can't do it with this version of you Jac: Done? Amelia: I was done before I actually got home Jac: Well I've not gone home Jac: so we both lied there then Amelia: Where have you gone? Jac: what's it to you? Amelia: I don't want what happened to Is to happen to you, or worse Amelia: I care about you Jac: it won't Amelia: I'm calling your parents Jac: maybe I've told them you're obsessed with me already Amelia: maybe but it's still ringing Amelia: they can decide what they want to do Jac: you're such a snitch Amelia: because I really care what you think of me right now Jac: nah, just hope it makes you feel good about yourself worrying my parents for nothing Amelia: I don't feel good about myself because of you Amelia: your parents are irrelevant to me Jac: we've got that in common then Amelia: they're probably going to want to talk to you and I don't so goodnight Jac: Bold of you to think I'd answer Jac: but it is a reason to turn my phone off so yeah Jac: later Amelia: you're really 😎 we get it Jac: that's what I'm doing Jac: you're so smart Amelia: it's why you want to keep the pics up Amelia: like a 🏆 Jac: i wanna keep em up so you have to see them Amelia: I don't have to see them, I've already blocked you both Jac: 😂 Amelia: What's funny? Jac: 🤡😥 would've been more applicable, perhaps Amelia: probably Jac: you can pal up with Is again, she's up for it Amelia: yeah because I really want to drag her into whatever 🎪 you've started up between us Jac: you're so considerate Amelia: something really fucked up happened to her, you were there, don't act like you don't remember Jac: and you weren't there Amelia: I know that Jac: then you don't get to say shit to me about it Amelia: I'm not, I'm saying this isn't about Is Jac: when is it ever Jac: poor girl Amelia: stop it Jac: you walked out on her Jac: she didn't have enough daddy issues? Amelia: I walked out on you Jac: same difference Amelia: you said you'd let me Jac: and I did Amelia: until now Jac: you're only 17 once Jac: it's not going to happen again Amelia: it shouldn't have happened at all Jac: should woulda coulda Amelia: promise me that this is it Jac: I don't fancy your girlfriend Jac: kissing her was bad enough Amelia: I mean, promise me that I don't have to look over my shoulder for the next 2 years in case you decide that you want to ruin my life again Amelia: because I can't Jac: Amelia Amelia: I'm serious, I'll leave school before I let you do this to me for a third time Jac: I'm not in a position to be making promises about anything, to anyone Jac: I'll try Amelia: okay Jac: just Jac: I don't know Jac: never mind Amelia: you're scaring me, you know Amelia: I should've made you promise not to do any reckless shit back then instead of the other way round Jac: everyone's scared Jac: they say it like I can change it Amelia: I thought I was doing the right thing but everything just keeps getting worse Amelia: for me, you and Is Amelia: even for Savannah, Sligo for fuck's sake Jac: even if you'd done it different Jac: I'd still have done the same Jac: it still would've all happened Amelia: what are you going to do now? Jac: nothing matters now Amelia: you matter Amelia: to me Amelia: come to my 🏠 I'll call your parents back Jac: we're not doing this again Jac: no Jac: it's bad enough i have people in my life i can't get rid of Amelia: we're not doing anything Jac: stop caring about me Amelia: I can't Jac: how much more do I have to ruin your life Amelia: you have ruined it, that doesn't mean I want you to be dead in a ditch Jac: all I'm going to do is break your heart over and over and then I'm going to leave forever Amelia: tonight it's already broken and that's all I'm talking about Amelia: take the guest bedroom Jac: no Jac: because then my family will just think we're friends again and that I'm fine Jac: I'll go home, okay, just stop Amelia: if you stop lying, I'll stop this Jac: I'll send you proof, for fuck's sake Amelia: okay Jac: fine Amelia: [we're just waiting for that pic like] Jac: [however long this is gonna take, at least you're probably a bit more central, the most begrudging pic of the front door lmao] Amelia: no, put your outfit in it so I know it wasn't stored on your phone Jac: 'cos I just have pictures of my door Jac: [but does, some weird angle to not get your face in] Jac: haven't got a newspaper, so sorry Amelia: if you hadn't stopped the party early, they might have been delivered Jac: it was a crap party anyway Jac: she hadn't even booked a table Amelia: Yeah Jac: at least you can have a better girlfriend for your 18th Amelia: can I? Are you going to let me Jac: probably not Jac: but if she's less easy to ruin then there's nothing I can do about that Amelia: you'd have to try something else, that's all Jac: obviously Jac: I'm still smart Amelia: I'm not giving you a compliment Jac: I'm not saying I'm not going to ruin your chances at happiness Amelia: it's not like I need you to Amelia: SO capable on my own Jac: it's not taking credit if you're making excuses for me Jac: but alright Amelia: I'm talking about the 💇🏻 which you can't take credit for Jac: it suits you Amelia: that is the most hurtful thing you've ever said Amelia: take it back Jac: it's also true Jac: and you wanted me to stop lying Amelia: 😒 Jac: at least you don't look like every other girl now Amelia: you think I did before? Amelia: also that's because no other girl wants to look like 👧🏻 Jac: I mean everyone has the same hair Jac: you stand out more Amelia: you don't Jac: well I'm special, obviously Amelia: I know Jac: 🙄 Amelia: 😉 Jac: you're an idiot Jac: Jude better be at a sleepover Amelia: her hair stands out Jac: you should tell her that Jac: she'll be so glad her attention-seeking doesn't go unnoticed Amelia: she think I'm flirting with her so no Jac: oh yeah Jac: you're a predatory lesbian now Amelia: I kissed you Jac: after I kissed your girlfriend Amelia: you don't fancy her Amelia: that wasn't why you did it Jac: she fancies herself enough Amelia: So does Savannah, that wasn't a problem for you Jac: don't talk about her Amelia: sure, I wouldn't want to upset you Amelia: what's the point being 💔 if you're not the saddest Jac: she's gone, there's no point talking about her Amelia: my parents know hers, she's not gone from dinner table conversation at my 🏠 Jac: sucks for you then Amelia: sucks more for her that she's been sent to catholic school Jac: Catholic school? Amelia: yeah, her dad had that brainwave Jac: that is unfortunate Jac: probably a better school than ours though, so she'll be thrilled Amelia: it's my dad's favourite joke threat now Jac: at least you could avoid me Amelia: true, I should call his bluff and take him up on it next time Jac: go for it Jac: it's only me that has to write off this shit school on her uni app Amelia: the rest of your app will more than make up for it Jac: that's the plan Amelia: exactly, so it's not technically a compliment Jac: you're shit at this Amelia: thanks Jac: no, that really wasn't a compliment Jac: not one of your not technicallys Amelia: 😏 Jac: did you get a car Jac: I bet you got a car Amelia: [a picture of it because why not say she did] Jac: just got to pass now Jac: then you can go where you like Amelia: then I can runaway Jac: nah Jac: they'd take you off their insurance and you'd be fucked Amelia: because I'd never drive without insurance Jac: the police would be frantically looking for you as is Jac: that's always how murderers get caught out Amelia: 🤫 you're ruining this too Jac: you fantasize on your own time Amelia: this is my own time, you're home safe Amelia: I don't owe you my full attention now that your 👅 isn't in my ex girlfriend's mouth Jac: have you kissed anyone else Amelia: no Jac: do you regret it being her Amelia: it wasn't you, that's what I regret Amelia: but it couldn't be so Jac: yeah Jac: at least it was a girl Amelia: I'm not stupid enough to kiss any boys Jac: some just call it heterosexual Amelia: and I'm not so it'd be stupid for me Jac: alright Amelia: but I should probably kiss more girls Jac: why should you Amelia: because she'll think all the wrong things if I don't Jac: true Jac: I thought you didn't care about what people thought though Amelia: I'm going to have to find new friends from somewhere Jac: don't you gays stick together Amelia: she sticks with them and I don't want to see her Jac: you move fast Amelia: I don't really have a choice, do I? Jac: I don't need friends Amelia: handy since you don't have any Jac: that's why I don't Amelia: yeah, because you only care about what you need Jac: duh Amelia: did you ever care about me? Jac: don't be stupid Amelia: did you ever care about me when it wasn't because you needed something? Jac: what kind of question is that Amelia: one I need the answer to Jac: we were friends forever Jac: what did I get from it half the time Jac: no more than you did or didn't Amelia: okay Jac: that was a dick move making me answer that when you already knew Amelia: I didn't know Amelia: whenever I talk to you I end up with more questions than answers Amelia: and end up questioning my sanity Jac: you don't need to Jac: your work here is done Amelia: you can't tell me what to do when you don't even do what you said you were going to Jac: so you're going to continue to make a bad decision, just to be awkward Jac: that's smart Amelia: because you have such good reasons for doing what you did earlier Jac: 'course I do Amelia: go on then Amelia: tell me them Jac: already did Jac: I wanted to fuck it up for you Jac: felt great Amelia: there's smarter ways to feel good, and easier Jac: I've tried those Amelia: oh well I loved being your little experiment, thanks Jac: whatever Jac: it needed to be done Amelia: no it didn't Amelia: you keep saying that Jac: you don't get it Amelia: I don't buy into your fake bullshit, no, and that's all you've given me all night Jac: what's fucking fake about the fact I can't stand to have anyone around me happy? Jac: there's nothing fake about misery being the only thing I can stomach now Amelia: you didn't break up your parents or ruin your brother's music career, you sought me out when I haven't even been around you Amelia: you're full of shit Jac: trust me, I'm doing my best Jac: and you're full of shit if you're now trying to say you don't see me every day Jac: and that it isn't the fucking worst Amelia: I thought it was, until you did this Amelia: now I can say today was the worst Amelia: you're so fucking selfish and cruel Jac: nothing has changed Jac: I sped up your inevitable break-up, that's it Amelia: no, you went out of your way to hurt and humiliate me Amelia: everything has changed Jac: if you say so Jac: it wasn't the first time for me Amelia: who are you? Jac: it doesn't matter Amelia: who the fuck are you? Jac: I don't know, Amelia Jac: alright Amelia: you can't treat people like this Jac: then tell everyone what I did Jac: I don't care Jac: you could've done something about it Amelia: what did you want me to do? Jac: I thought you might put up more of a fight Amelia: for what? Against what? Jac: because I humiliated you Amelia: it wasn't the first time for me either Jac: never like that Amelia: I'm not going to fight you Jac: your loss Amelia: I keep telling you, I care about you, I don't want to hurt you Jac: I wish you'd stop Amelia: I wish I could Jac: yeah Jac: well Amelia: it's my loss, like you said Jac: don't worry, I've got my own Amelia: that makes me feel loads better Jac: it should Amelia: it doesn't Jac: you're infuriating Amelia: says you Amelia: I'm so angry at you Jac: because I wanted you to be Jac: that's the correct response Amelia: no, because I love you too much to hate you Amelia: because it won't go away Amelia: and I don't want to feel like this for the rest of my fucking life no matter what you do Jac: I don't have the answer Jac: If I could make you stop then I would Jac: but I don't know how Amelia: me either Jac: there's nothing I can do if you don't hate me by now Jac: I dropped you for Savannah Jac: I did everything I did tonight Amelia: I was there, I don't need you to recap Jac: I couldn't have made it easier Amelia: there's something wrong with me, there must be Jac: not as bad as me Amelia: my mum said at the time that I fell in love with you years ago and I can't expect to fall out of it in a few weeks or months Jac: logic adds up Amelia: she thinks I'm over it now so clearly not Jac: you probably said you were Jac: or near enough Amelia: the girlfriend thing kind of said it for me Jac: yeah well Jac: I've had loads of boyfriends Amelia: you're not in love with me Jac: I meant it doesn't mean anything, necessarily Amelia: yeah Amelia: my mum is more old fashioned though Amelia: romantic or whatever Jac: more romantic than your girlfriend, yeah Amelia: 🙄 Jac: she wasn't good enough for you anyway Amelia: I'm not good enough for anyone Amelia: I'm literally still in love with someone else who isn't them Jac: it isn't that simple Jac: you can feel things for more than one person Jac: you just, didn't for her and she wasn't worth it Amelia: maybe other people can but I don't Jac: how would you know Jac: it just hasn't happened yet Amelia: I'm too self aware if anything Jac: that's some lesbian nonsense Amelia: I'll put it in my bio then Jac: tinder Amelia: I'm not kissing that many girls, she'll definitely think all the wrong things Jac: be kicking herself, like Jac: or is it only okay when she does it Amelia: probably Jac: just like a lad Amelia: 😣 Jac: awh Amelia: I can't be bothered Jac: with girls? Amelia: I'm not trying anymore, you didn't keep your promises anyway Jac: what does that mean? Amelia: it means I don't care, my life can stay the mess you wanted it to be Jac: alright Jac: not like I can turn around and say 'no don't' now Amelia: and if you turn around you won't see me Jac: what? Amelia: school, I'm not doing it either Jac: shut up Amelia: online maybe so my dad doesn't rage Jac: that's bullshit Amelia: so is this Jac: no, fuck you Amelia: 😂 Jac: so you all get to fucking leave and I'm the one stuck dealing Jac: nah Amelia: I've got nothing to stay for Jac: it's school, no one does Jac: jesus Amelia: you said yourself it sucks having to see me every day Amelia: I'm doing you a favour Jac: you are ridiculous Jac: you think you can just run away like this is some shit indie song Amelia: I've tried the alternative Amelia: it didn't go great Jac: you think Savannah is bad? at least her parents made her go Jac: you're such a spoilt brat Amelia: I don't think about Savannah Jac: you don't think about anything Jac: christ Amelia: your audacity is another level Jac: your stupidity is worse Amelia: yeah, I've proved that loads of times over Jac: fucking hell Jac: your life is so hard, Meelie, yeah Jac: everyone thinks its my fault, what happened to Is Jac: and the more she says otherwise, the more it sounds like it was Amelia: no they don't, I don't Jac: well you love me so you're clearly insane and a bit biased Amelia: even if I hated you I'd still know that you weren't the one who assaulted her Amelia: it's his fault, nobody else's Jac: me and Sav still ran like we had something to hide Jac: that's all anyone cares about, working out what Amelia: you were scared, in shock probably Amelia: you felt like it was your fault Amelia: that doesn't mean it was Jac: all I know is she's fucked off, no one will say anything to Is, so it's all down to me, whatever people wanna say or think about it Jac: so yeah, sorry I think your idea is fucking laughable but been there, done that Jac: didn't solve anything, it only made the rest worse Amelia: I know it's a stupid idea, alright Jac: you can't go, alright, you just can't Amelia: you know I'll fight the whole school before I'd ever fight you Amelia: I'll do it for you too, if that will help Jac: Yeah, I do Jac: nothing will help but Jac: at least you're still here Jac: nothing else is the same Amelia: I'll be in detention every day for the next 2 years if that's what it takes to shut people up Jac: I don't deserve it Jac: or anything but hate from you, and I do fucking know that Amelia: you don't deserve to get the blame for being there and being her friend Amelia: I should've been too Amelia: and after it happened we should've talked Jac: maybe it's just karma Jac: I've never been a good friend to her and by the time it happened Jac: well Jac: I made you leave Amelia: I ruined our friend so I had to leave Amelia: *ship Amelia: that's not your fault either Jac: maybe it is Amelia: it's not Amelia: I shouldn't have told you how I felt Amelia: or been jealous of Savannah Amelia: or made such a big deal about the date you went on Jac: no Jac: I get it Jac: you weren't wrong Amelia: I did the wrong thing by leaving you and Is Jac: I couldn't wish the alternative on you Jac: having to stick around and watch Amelia: I still had to watch Amelia: I couldn't go that far Jac: I know it's my fault because it happened again Amelia: what? Jac: Savannah Jac: I kissed her Amelia: I don't understand Jac: you should have been jealous of her Jac: I mean Jac: you know what I mean Amelia: you mean you felt something for her Jac: I didn't want to feel any of it Jac: but she was straight and you weren't so having her around was meant to be easier Amelia: why didn't you just tell me? Amelia: you lied and lied and made me feel crazy Jac: because I feel crazy Jac: I fucking am Jac: I just Jac: it's not like I left that conversation and told her Jac: I kept on and got with lads and pretended to like it, tried to Amelia: everything you said, everything you did Amelia: oh my god Amelia: I can't Amelia: I can't take this in Jac: like I said, it's fucking karma Jac: I fucked it with you and it happened to me Amelia: I'm supposed to feel what, that she queerbaited you? Happy? validated? Jac: I don't know Jac: probably Amelia: did you know how you felt about her when I told you how I felt? Jac: why? Amelia: because you told me over and over again that you liked boys and you'd change that if you could Jac: yes, and I told her the same thing Jac: and I acted accordingly Amelia: I've spent so long feeling horrible for putting you in that position and none of it was real Jac: it was real Jac: I don't want to be Jac: I want to be straight Amelia: it isn't a choice Amelia: and you can't just twist everything to make it one Jac: acting or not acting on it is Amelia: so why did you choose to act on it by kissing her, if that's what you think? Jac: it was a mistake Jac: when we left Jac: after Is Jac: and it was just us Jac: then it destroyed everything and she's literally run away Amelia: and then you destroyed what was left after she'd gone Jac: yes Amelia: great Jac: I'm aware Amelia: are you? Amelia: for years I thought things were one way only to be told they weren't and now you're telling me an entirely different story again Amelia: 🤯 Jac: because we don't live in the ideal world where I accept myself for liking girls and I choose the right one and we live happily ever after Jac: we live in the world where I kissed Savannah and she looked at me like I was the boy who assaulted Isabelle Jac: and that's how I feel about it, and I would rather pretend to be straight forever, and have no real friends again, than have to do that, and feel that disgust again Amelia: we live in a world that doesn't revolve around Savannah fucking Moore Amelia: because she doesn't accept you, you can't accept yourself? No Jac: it's not her fault Jac: the rules don't make no fucking sense Jac: do you know how often she told me she loved me, how beautiful I was, and smart and perfect and kind, that she wanted me in her life forever? Jac: but that doesn't mean she wants to kiss me Amelia: that's why it literally is her fault Amelia: she flirted with you more than I EVER have, or would dare to openly do because I would get called a predatory lesbian and she gets likes and follows Jac: but she meant it Jac: I know she did Jac: that's just friendship to her Jac: it's too confusing Amelia: you want her to have meant it the same way you did, like I wanted you to with me Jac: but I did Jac: I lied Jac: so I know it doesn't make a difference now Jac: but still, you weren't wrong and I did, I am, whatever Jac: it was shitty to lie, I know, I accept it Jac: but she meant it all but she is straight...how does that work Amelia: I don't know Amelia: straight people are weird Jac: I don't want to find that relatable Jac: I want to be normal Amelia: I'm not abnormal, shut up Jac: fine, straight Jac: I don't want to ever have to think about this ever again Amelia: why do you want it so bad? Jac: so I don't feel like this Jac: the not knowing Jac: how much it hurts Jac: boys are easy, I told you Amelia: because you don't like them Amelia: if you were straight you'd get hurt just the same Amelia: you said it, Valentina's no different than a lad Jac: lads just like me Jac: I've never kissed any lad and had them recoil Amelia: they liked me too, it doesn't mean I had to like them back Jac: I mean it's not the same Jac: if a lad didn't like me, he'd have reasons Amelia: loads of girls like you too, I was friends with them for a bit, I heard all that gossip Amelia: Savannah's reason is that she doesn't like girls, any of them Jac: but she loves me Jac: more than she ever did Ty, I fucking know it Amelia: not like that, like Is loved us Jac: I can't stand it Amelia: I know Jac: you know I am sorry Jac: don't you Amelia: yeah Jac: you just had come so far and had done so much work Jac: it wasn't fair Jac: what I did wasn't, but it wouldn't have been to act on it, when I wanted so badly to be straight, for everything I did tell you to be true Amelia: no, I was in exactly the same place that we left each other in Amelia: you're not the only one who can lie Jac: I'm just so sorry but that's worth fuck all Jac: I hate how stupid all of it seems now Jac: redundant Jac: but that's close to a fair punishment, I suppose Amelia: you've already been punished Amelia: and sorry always means something when it's a real one Jac: I feel Jac: I don't Jac: I'm broken Jac: I don't even want to be a person now Amelia: I don't want to find that relatable Amelia: but it is Jac: fuck's sake Jac: see, why would I choose this? Jac: even if they're weird, this never happens to straight people Amelia: of course it does Amelia: Savannah's parents are fucked Jac: just because they don't love each other no more Jac: when they got together, I'm sure they both knew Amelia: still, her mum's so broken she's barely a person Jac: all I'm saying is we're getting dangerously close to comparing being gay to a mental illness Jac: which is what homophobes say and I'm not trying to be the confirmation Amelia: it's not being gay, it's loving the wrong person Amelia: there are happy gays, I've met some Amelia: and your brother isn't being held back by it Jac: don't get me started Amelia: Jude's love life is messier than his Amelia: more dramatic Jac: he'll end up with a girl Amelia: you don't know that Jac: wait and see Amelia: yeah, I'll stalk him from afar like a fangirl Amelia: 🤢 Jac: it's not the same either Amelia: you love a competition Jac: yeah, this is so much fun Jac: him and Jude are the same Jac: it doesn't mean anything to them, so they aren't getting hurt Jac: they don't care, it's not serious Amelia: you've got me, we're very much the same Amelia: in this anyway Jac: I don't want to love anyone ever again Amelia: then don't Jac: that's why I have no friends Amelia: yeah well you don't need them, that's the line and the lie, right? Jac: it's not funny Jac: I can't be trusted Jac: with any kind of relationship with a girl Amelia: I'm not laughing because me either Amelia: I make bad choices and I'm proven stupid, remember Jac: it's so fucking isolating Amelia: school is anyway Amelia: we're all in boxes Jac: you never used to hate it this much Amelia: now you understand how much I hate everything Amelia: how exhausted I am Amelia: it'd be nice to have the solidarity if it wasn't so horrible Jac: I'm just trying to get used to it Jac: accept it Amelia: at least you don't have to see her every day Amelia: maybe that'll make it different Jac: I never get to see her again Amelia: you don't know that either Jac: I do Jac: she's unlikely to stop by when she's seeing her mum Amelia: you verbally recoiled from me, ruined my birthday, nobody would call it likely that we're talking Jac: naive optimism is exactly what got you here Jac: don't even need to scroll for the reminder Amelia: ouch Amelia: you always find new ways to hurt me Jac: you really did just say you made bad choices and were stupid Jac: continuing this conversation is just another one for the list, probably Amelia: I can say it and do so you don't need to Jac: alright, alright Amelia: you're blocked though, this is the only place you could try to Jac: I could make another post but the point has been made well enough I reckon Amelia: it's not my birthday now so there's no point Amelia: ⛅ Jac: sod you then Jac: don't want you getting the wrong impression Amelia: 😂 bit late for that Jac: yeah Amelia: my dad'll be up soon I'll just wait ☕ Amelia: don't need you to entertain me any further Jac: you gonna tell him about your shit birthday Amelia: I'll tell them both we broke up and they'll be thrilled Amelia: it's all they want to hear Jac: you can tell them it was my fault, it doesn't matter to me Amelia: why would I do that? Jac: dunno, but having someone else's parents take over and shout at me for a bit might be mildly entertaining Amelia: they think I'm over you, they want me to be better Amelia: I'm not going to ruin the lie Jac: rude Jac: but fine Jac: guess you don't owe me Amelia: no, I don't Jac: enjoy your coffee then Amelia: it'll taste disgusting like it always does Amelia: the biggest lie of all Jac: you aren't as exhausted and sad as you say you are Jac: the taste would've been acquired by now, you massive child Amelia: I've had to hide it longer than you Amelia: I'm just more skilled and hilarious Jac: so you're better at being sad? Jac: and I love a competition 🙄 Amelia: 😏 Amelia: I've acquired a taste for anything with a high enough alcohol content, there you go Jac: I was drunk before I got there and that was still apparent Amelia: haven't needed stitches yet Jac: that's something Jac: anyway, how'd you figure you've had to hide it longer? Amelia: because I have Amelia: you were sitting pretty on a ☁ with Savannah for ages Amelia: nothing could touch you up there Jac: that's where you're wrong Amelia: I'm not letting you win again Jac: 😏 Jac: it's not like I was fucking boys because I thought I wanted to Amelia: okay 🏆 no need to make me cry thinking about that Jac: they aren't that bad Jac: well, usually Jac: just not as interesting, it didn't make sense Jac: why we would waste time we could be together instead Amelia: it's really sad Amelia: as 💔 it was seeing you with lads, I thought it was at least what you wanted Jac: they aren't the ones that made me 💔 Amelia: I know but Amelia: I can't imagine doing that, or how it would make me feel if I thought I had to Jac: well you're much softer than I am Amelia: excuse me, it took you years to break me, Savannah did the same to you in 1 Amelia: you're not that hard Jac: I think that says more about Savannah than it does you Jac: but alright Amelia: right, because she's so perfect Amelia: I actually can't compete Jac: shut up Amelia: it's true Jac: it isn't that simple, I keep saying Amelia: it's as simple as you've already said, she's straight and I'm not Amelia: it was safer for you, except it wasn't Jac: you make it sound Jac: ugh Amelia: isn't it? Jac: you think I'm a right cold, calculating bitch Jac: and I'm not saying you're wrong but it was nice when you thought otherwise Amelia: we can't go back, you really drilled that into me Jac: I know Jac: oh well Amelia: oh well? that's the best you can do, yeah? Amelia: doesn't sound very calculating and well planned out Jac: because it's all over Jac: the only thing I've got left is uni and the career I want Jac: nothing else can or is going to exist Amelia: that's more than I've got Amelia: I haven't exactly been concentrating on my app Jac: well you're going to run away and find your Thelma aren't you Amelia: you ruined that fantasy with reality Jac: yeah right Jac: you're still a hopeless romantic Amelia: with a 🚗 I can't drive yet Jac: have you had any lessons yet Amelia: no Amelia: I keep asking my dad but he's always too busy Jac: go ask him now Amelia: I've drank too much to go now Jac: well duh but he'll feel so bad for you he'll make time tomorrow or whatever Amelia: and we're back to calculating Jac: someone has to if you wanna be wild and free Amelia: 😂 Jac: how early is it Jac: will the library be open Amelia: it's weird that the library is still open at any hour Amelia: you're literally the only person who ever goes there Jac: excuse me, only child Jac: you try and study with a house full of annoying kids and dogs Amelia: I'm fine with a 🏠 swap, I don't feel like studying Jac: yeah only if you make it permanent Amelia: you wouldn't take my guest room for a night, I don't think I'd be able to make that happen Jac: because you were there Amelia: rude Jac: sensible Amelia: nothing's going to happen Jac: yeah exactly Amelia: what does that mean? Jac: it means we aren't going to be friends Amelia: why not? Jac: I told you why Amelia: I'm not asking you to care about me, I'm saying I'm here for you Jac: No Jac: I wasn't joking when I said I can't have friends Amelia: I know you weren't Jac: that includes you Jac: especially you Amelia: okay Jac: okay Amelia: good morning then Jac: 👋

yes we did talk about it before 🙈 and the playlist is just so good for singing along bc well every song slaps 😅 and i'm unsure about suggesting it but i feel like there should be at least one song by one direction in there. ooh pretty venom.. i see what you mean. well i love that song so much it's one of my favs off wus so i think it should be allowed to stay on there for now and we'll see if it passes future vibe checks 😅 (1/4)

(2/4) i finished the paper 🎉 not sure if it's good but it's gone at least so thank you for your well-wishes 💕 oh very nice! mind of mine was like the only thing i listened to in summer '16 i have lots of feelings about this album what's your overall opinion? and how are you doing now? it's been a couple days 🙈 & i'm very glad you were so happy about my reviews 🙈 will be able to provide many more soon bc i have a whole month off now 😊

(3/4) true! i mean they literally had so much time off now they really could've had a couple skype calls and made some new songs 🙄 i need more!! also thank you for posting so much about them and thus making me listen to them bc they are amazing. & i think nvm made me cry bc i was so done i was crying at everything and then the line "everything is awful, but it's only in my brain" hit too close to home 😅 also after way more listening this song might just be my fav of theirs i love it so much.

(4/4) i'm glad you agree with my reviews the fletcher ones are gonna come your way in a few days when i'm back from visiting a friend 😊 i have to say i'm very interested to see my spotify wrapped thingy bc my results are gonna be from such a short time so actually if i keep listening to simple creatures like i am rn they'll be one of my top artists too 😅 oh also did you hear back from that dean of students person about getting yom kippur off? i hope you're doing okay & love you loads, fiancee

!!!!!!!!!! that is fair enough actually ive been looking at the playlist through the eyes of my little sister she def knows Some of those songs but not all and like its largely just been like pop punk classics and i KNOW she knows one direction but you’re still right i should probably put some 1d on what songs do you suggest? i would say probably just wmyb right? one thing maybe? up all night???? stress

proud of you !!! i finished a paper today as well but it was just a midterm but still, at least it’s done!!

INTERESTING well !! let me tell you my thoughts then!!! for the most part the album was just.......vibey. and like. to me it was a bit of a sleepy album? not all of the songs but many of them. the kind of thing you could put on and fall asleep to. so like. i didn’t hate it but it did have those vibes. THAT SAID, here are the songs i really liked on first listen but i cba to do the weird capitalization thing: pillowtalk (obvs n i had heard that one before ofc but still), she, wrong (KEHLANI FEATUREEEE very sexy), like i would, she don’t love me, fool for you (felt very cinematic?? but in a cool way). i’d probably have to listen a few more times to really sink my teeth in but those were my initial favorites!!!

well when you sent these i was Not doing great hence why i didn’t answer them right away but today i am doing much better ive been somewhat productive and i also hung out with friends which was really good for me i think so overall i have deffo been worse how are you??

u know what that’s super valid and i have to agree ffs come on gaskarth come on hoppus give us more simple creatures content it’s all we ask

CANNOT wait for more fiancee music reviews my main source of serotonin these days i love you!!! no i have not heard back from the dean of students mainly because i have not. yet. emailed her. so. that’s a thing i should do. thank you for reminding me, i am going to avoid it and then forget again but at least it’ll be in the back of my mind cos it had just completely vanished from there

i wasn’t tagged by anyone but i wanted to do this anyway haha! currently feeling very inspired fanfic-wise so thought i’d capitalise on that

your name: adamwhatareyouevendoing on ao3 (i generally leave comments/kudos as skatingthinandice though)

fandoms you write for: oh goodness, loads. my bio on ao3 is literally “jack of all fandoms, master of none”. 18 different fandoms in total, but i’ve written most for victoria

where you post: i used to cross post to ff net but now solely ao3 

most popular one-shot: most of my works are one-shots haha! in terms of hits it’s Be Here, With Me, my first Alfred/Drummond fic which i’m still so proud of

most popular multi-chapter story: wow oh wow it’s Backwards Looking Forwards. i’m honestly still so amazed and delighted that my Uhtred/Leofric stuff has done so well, particularly my leofric lives au

my favourite story i’ve written: i still feel such a rush of affection most of my recent work, but i’d have to say Dear Darling because even though it took me a year to write it, i knew i needed to give Michael and Thomas their happy ending, and i’m so glad i did. i also have to mention Provenance because i can’t wait to write more Aethelflaed/Aldhelm (bring on s4!)

how do you choose your titles? usually at the last minute and with major difficulty. more often than not they’re song lyrics from whatever music i listened to at the time of writing that really seemed to fit with the story

do you outline? very rarely, mostly because i write one-shots. if i do it’s normally because i’ve written some lines that i love too much so then i have to build a story around them... actually, come to think of it, this is how most of my stuff actually ends up written oops

how many of your stories are complete? i have 48 on my ao3 (some old old ones on ff net but i can’t remember how many). technically i meant to write a fourth chapter for one of my magelyn ones but i never did so hey i’m classing it as finished lol

how many of your stories are in progress? no posted ones currently in progress, and just one wip right now! that makes me sound far more organised than i actually am haha, i have many more ideas on the way

coming soon: definitely the marcheron collection because it’s been three years and i will not rest until i’ve got them out of my head. there should also be another two this year if i manage to finish watching the shows (lol) and then a further two when s4 of the last kingdom airs next year! and, can you believe, i actually have titles for 4 out of the 5 wow wow (are you proud of me @remembertheskittles?!) 

if you see this and want to do it too, then consider yourself tagged!

Family of Six (4/14)

After James and Rose bring their newborn twins home, they work to find a balance between all four of their children, and each other. Ten x Rose AU, Soulmates AU.

This chapter: Explicit, 8500 words

Ages of the Tyler-McCrimmons at the start of the chapter: James: 39, Rose: 33, Ainsley: 9, Sianin: 5, Twins: 2 weeks

If you like reading my stories, consider leaving me a tip? Or leave a reply on this post to tell me what you thought? And as always, reblogs are very much appreciated so more people can see this.

Chapters will be posted every other week — next update: August 20th

AO3 | TSP | FF | Perfectly Matched Series

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14

The family settled into a routine almost seamlessly. Rose loved that James was able to take so much time off to help with their kids; it created one less stressor in their life, knowing that he wasn’t on a strict schedule to get to work on time.

More often than not, they were already awake and caring for the twins by the time Ainsley and Sianin needed to be up for school. Sometimes they both would get their eldest children ready in the morning, and sometimes they would trade off who did it, allowing the other to get a little more rest.

“Am I so sleep-deprived that I’ve passed the point of being tired and am now in a state of false-awakeness instead?” Rose asked one morning as she finished changing the twins.

“Probably.” The dark circles of exhaustion under James’s eyes were just as deep as hers.

“I don’t remember feeling this good after Ainsley or Sianin,” Rose said. “Babies are hard, so twins should be harder. But these two… they’re so easy.”

“Oi, don’t jinx it!” After a beat, he said, “I don’t think we can accurately compare Hannah and Maddie to Ainsley or Sianin’s infancy. Ainsley was our first, so there was a huge learning curve. Everything was brand-new and scary and we had to figure out this whole new world of parenthood. And then after Sianin was born… neither of us was in a good mental place, which did us no favors.”

“Either way, I feel amazing, James,” she said. “I’m not sad or angry or negative. And best of all, my lady bits don’t hurt anymore! Which is weird—I’d expected to be sore for longer since I pushed out two babies. But it’s like my vag is all back to normal.”

He smiled at her, the expression warming her to her very core.

“I’m very glad to hear that,” he said, stepping up to press a kiss to her cheek. “All of it.”

She turned her head and caught his lips head-on. He was still grinning, making her smile too, thus turning the kiss into more of a lip press instead. Nevertheless, she enjoyed it and draped her arms around his shoulders, holding her husband close to her. God, she loved him.

“Can I do the school run today?” she murmured, pecking short kisses across his lips.

“If you want,” he answered, trying to reciprocate her kisses.

“I do. I’d like to get out of the house for a bit.”

“Then the shower is all yours,” he said, pulling back. He gestured to their bathroom, bowing theatrically.

“You nutter,” she said, rolling her eyes.

He beamed and waggled his eyebrows, then exited their bedroom to attend to Ainsley and Sianin.

In the time it took Rose to shower and dress, James got their eldest children ready for school. They had their uniform and shoes on, and were finishing up their cereal when she stepped into the kitchen.

Rose found that she enjoyed the school run more than usual ever since the twins were born. She relished that she could be alone with Ainsley and Sianin without listening for the sounds of a distressed baby.

During the car ride, Ainsley and Sianin prattled on about school and their friends.

“William’s mums are having another baby!” Ainsley squealed.

“That’s exciting,” Rose commented, smiling at her daughter through the rearview mirror.

“Yeah! William said it’s due in August, I think,” Ainsley said. “He’s hoping for a little sister this time; his brother wants another brother.”

“Um, his mummies are both girls. How are they having a baby?” Sianin asked blankly.

“Someone else is pregnant and having the baby for them,” Ainsley answered. Then her expression turned thoughtful. “Though I suppose they could’ve used a sperm donor or something, right Mum?”

“Some people choose adoption or surrogacy instead of carrying out a pregnancy themselves,” Rose said. “It’s their own personal decision. No matter how it happens, it’s exciting that William’s family is growing, just like ours did.”

“Hope they don’t get twins,” Sianin muttered under her breath.

“Shut up, Hannah and Maddie are great!”

“Don’t tell her to shut up, Ains. She has every right to her opinion as you do.”

Sianin stuck her tongue out at her sister.

The kids stopped bickering when Rose reminded them of the party that weekend for Sianin’s birthday. They were eager to see their extended family, and Sianin was excited to have some of her friends over.

Finally, Rose parked in front of the school and stepped out with her daughters. She scooped them in for a hug and kiss, then watched them for as long as was polite before driving away and letting the lengthening queue of parents drop their kids off.

“Want a coffee?” Rose wrote on her wrist when she pulled into the car park of a nearby café.

She dawdled, collecting her purse slowly to give James enough time to see her message and reply. As she stepped into the shop and joined the short line of people, he’d written back. I just made a pot. Thanks though xoxo.

“Bummer. Next time. I’ll be home in twenty.”

“Ma’am, can I help you?”

Rose glanced up and saw she was next. “Sorry. Can I have a vanilla latte? And a blueberry muffin? Thanks.”

She got her order, then went back to her car, where she ate her muffin and drank half her latte on the drive home. 

The house was quiet when she arrived. She slipped her shoes off by the front door, then dumped her keys into the dish before heading towards the kitchen. She peered into the living room as she passed; Hannah was fast asleep in her cot. The other was empty, but when she entered the kitchen, she saw Maddie safely ensconced in her father’s arms.

Rose’s heart tripped through a few beats as she observed her husband. He was shirtless and facing away from her. She watched the muscles of his back flex as he loaded the dishwasher one-handedly. His other arm was wrapped snugly around their baby, who had her face tucked into James’s neck. His pajama bottoms were slung low on his hips, giving her a tantalizing view of the dimples at the bottom of his spine. 

“There’s a proper way and an improper way to load the dishwasher.” James’s voice was quiet and soothing as he spoke to their baby. “Because if you throw it all in, willy-nilly, you won’t fit as much in there. But if you pack everything in nice and tight, you can get through all the dirty dishes in one go. It’s like a game of Tetris.”

“Starting ‘em young with the chores, are we?” Rose asked, sauntering into the kitchen.

James straightened, turned, and then beamed.

“Well, it’s never too early to start teaching responsibility,” he said. “Maddie has been such a big helper. Haven’t you, darling? Haven’t you been Daddy’s great big helper?”

Maddie let out a snort and a sigh before settling back into his arms. James brushed a kiss to the baby’s forehead.

“How were they?” Rose asked, stepping up to James. She draped an arm around his hips and rested her cheek against his shoulder to better look at Maddie. Pathetic though it was, Rose could spend hours simply watching her beautiful baby do nothing more than sleep. Moments like this left her in awe that she and James created an entire human being together. Four entire human beings, no less.

“Wonderful,” James said. “Miss Maddie hasn’t made a peep. But I felt bad because I spent twenty minutes holding Hannah when she fussed while trying to take a poo, so after Hannah fell asleep, Maddie and I came in here to clean up from breakfast.”

Rose frowned at her sleeping daughter. She raised a hand and rubbed it up and down Maddie’s back. The baby wriggled a bit and turned her head until the opposite cheek was pressed to James’s shoulder.

“She doesn’t cry,” Rose murmured, feathering her fingers through the downy hair on Maddie’s head.

“Sure she does.”

“Not really. She whimpers a bit. But she very rarely goes into a proper wailing fit,” Rose said. “And if she does, she quiets quickly ‘cos more often than not, she just wants to be held.”

James’s brows furrowed. “Don’t most parents rejoice that their newborn is quiet?”

Rose shrugged. “I don’t want there to be anything wrong with her, is all. I mean… she looks healthy, and she’s eating and weeing and pooing. But I dunno. She’s really calm for a newborn.”

“We can bring it up at their one-month appointment,” James said. “Or we can schedule something sooner if she starts presenting worrying symptoms. You’re not worried, are you? Or have some sort of mother’s intuition that something’s wrong?”

“No, no,” Rose assured. “It’s just… odd. As I said this morning, I thought having twins would be exhausting and difficult. But really, it’s no more difficult than if we’d only had one.”

James nodded and leaned over to peck a kiss to Rose’s forehead. She reached up and cupped the back of his neck to hold him in place for a proper kiss.

But a moment later, they caught the unmistakable scent of a dirty nappy.

“I’ll change her,” Rose said, watching the baby’s face scrunch and relax.

When it appeared as though Maddie was finished, Rose took her from James, being careful not to squish the baby’s bum and smear around whatever happened to be inside the nappy.

She got the baby cleaned and changed in minutes, then after a few cuddles and kisses and proclamations of her undying love, Rose walked back to the living room and set the baby in her bassinet. She draped a blanket over her daughter, then checked on her other baby. After popping the fallen dummy back into Hannah’s mouth, she joined James in the kitchen.

He was standing at the sink, staring out the window as he finished up his coffee.

Rose stepped up behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle, tucking her face into his back. He dropped a hand and covered hers, stroking the curve of her wrist with his thumb. 

First kissing the mole centered between his shoulder blades, Rose trailed her lips in long, slow lines across the planes of his back.

“I approve of your decision to not wear a shirt,” she mumbled into his skin. Her mouth hopped from freckle to freckle, dotting each one with a kiss. “You should go shirtless more often.”

“I aim to please.” He gulped down the remainder of his coffee then set the mug in the sink before spinning in her arms. Rose dropped her arms from around him, but stayed close in his personal space. “Though really, I was just about to hop in the shower when Hannah started crying.”

“You should’ve said you were trying to impress me,” Rose said dryly.

“Why should I have to do that? I know how impressive I am. And so do you.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

Rose rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help but sneak a peek at him. His broad chest. His subtly-sculpted shoulders and pecs. His undefined yet firm abdomen. The way his hip bones jutted up from beneath the waistband of his pajama bottoms. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.

James noticed her wandering gaze and had an insufferably smug smirk on his face.

“Well,” Rose drawled, “I suppose you’re perfectly adequate.”

“Perfectly adequate, my arse.”

“Your arse is also perfectly adequate,” Rose said, reaching down to pinch it lightly.

He squeaked and jumped.

“What’s gotten into you this morning?” James asked, his eyes wide. “Not that I’m complaining. Far from it.”

“I told you. You look sexy without a shirt on.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed for a second and his eyes darted down to her mouth. She reached out and rested her hands at his waist, caressing her thumbs across his hipbones, then trailed her fingertips up his ribs until her hands rested on his chest. His heart thumped solidly beneath her palm. Goosebumps prickled across his skin and puckered his nipples.

He, meanwhile, placed his hands at her lower back and kept them there. His pupils were slightly dilated and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. The overhead lights shone invitingly against his bottom lip, and she bit hers in response. His gaze dropped to her mouth.

“Rose,” he croaked. The rawness of his voice sent a shiver down her spine.

“Just admiring the view.” She slid her hands farther up his chest until she could grip the tops of his shoulders, then she tugged him down.

His breath escaped him in a sigh when their lips met. It was a soft, sweet thing, but nevertheless, it sent butterflies through Rose’s stomach. She cradled James’s cheek in her hand; the muscles of his jaw flexed ever so slightly as his mouth parted and closed with the familiar catch-and-release rhythm of his kisses.

When her tongue darted out to trace across his bottom lip, his mouth fell open in invitation. He hummed when she slid her tongue against his, then curled it to flick against the roof of his mouth and the backs of his teeth.

He allowed her to control the kiss, to set and keep the pace. She kept one hand to James’s face and let the other skate down his chest and belly to brush curiously against the front of his pajama bottoms. He was half hard and his hips twitched minutely. Reading his cue, she opened her palm and rested it against his burgeoning erection.

“Want me to…?” she asked, caressing her thumb absently against him through his pajama bottoms.

“Only if you want to,” he replied, slightly breathless. “If not, I can take care of it in the shower.”

“And deprive me of the opportunity to touch my husband? Don’t you dare.”

He snorted out a laugh, but it died on a groan when she wrapped her hand around his clothed erection. She coupled gentle squeezes with nips to his bottom lip, gradually working him up until he was fully hard. His erection poked his pajama bottoms out cartoonishly, and Rose smiled to herself as she readjusted him. She guided his cock to point up at his belly, and she slipped his trousers down an inch, just low enough that the head barely peeked out of the waistband.

She circled her fingertip across the bright red tip of him, watching a bead of moisture well up then drip down, soaking into the fabric of the waistband.

“Having fun?” he rasped.

“Of course.” She grinned at him.

“Bed- bedroom?”

“Not necessary. We’re alone. Last I looked, two-week-old babies are fairly sedentary, so there’s no fear of them walking in on us. And they have no idea what sex is—or anything, for that matter—so you don’t need to concern yourself with being quiet. Well, unless you wake them up. Would be a shame if we had to stop in the middle of this, eh?”

James rolled his eyes at her and arched his hips impatiently into her hand, which was still tracing tiny circles around the head of his erection just to coax more beads of moisture from the tip.

“Please?” he asked. “Can you touch me? Properly?”

She nodded and made one final teasing circle before tugging his pajama bottoms down his slim hips, freeing his erection.

“Been forever since we fooled around in the middle of the house,” James said, watching her wrap her hand around his length and give him a slow pump. His eyes were dark and ravenous; the expression made Rose lament that she couldn’t join in the activity they were about to partake in.

“It’s got kind of a naughty feel to it,” Rose agreed. She slid her hand up his cock, then brushed her thumb across the tip of him. She worked the slippery wetness down his erection until the bite of dry friction was nonexistent.

“Feels good,” James murmured, thrusting lightly into her hand but making no indication for her to hurry up. 

“Good. I like making you feel good. I haven’t gotten to touch you since the babies were born—I’ve missed it.”

“Me either,” he whispered. “Wait. I meant me. I haven’t touched myself since they’ve been born either. Obviously I can’t touch you yet.”

“Seriously? You haven’t had a wank in over two weeks?”

“Haven’t had much time lately. Or been in the mood, really.”

“So… what? The last time was when you and I fooled around a bit after you gave me a foot massage?”

“Mhm.” James sucked in a sharp breath when Rose gave him a long, slow squeeze on the upstroke. “God, Rose.”

She bit her lip around a smile, but kept up the steady rhythm of her hand.

“I love you,” she said, stepping closer to catch his lips in a kiss.

His mouth was frenzied against hers, belying how worked up he was. His lips tugged and pulled at hers, restlessly moving between her lower and upper lip. His tongue eventually came into play, gliding against hers too quickly to have much finesse to it.

Rose sped up her hand for a few strokes before slowing back down. A low, whining groan rumbled from his throat.

“Rose.”

“James,” she parroted.

“Tease,” he huffed.

“Tell me you’re not enjoying this.”

“I’m very much enjoying this. I always enjoy it. Feels so fucking good, love.”

His use of profanity sent delightful tingles through her. Rose pecked a kiss to his lips before she trailed her mouth down his jaw. She scraped her teeth across it, then licked it, enjoying the scratch of his day-old stubble against her tongue.

For several long minutes, she kept up the torturous rhythm of her hand, alternating between long, languorous strokes and short, quick ones. She delighted in the hitch of his breath that always accompanied the change in tempo.

Her other hand was busy touching any other part of him she could reach. It meandered up and down his chest, her fingernails scraping through the fine hairs on his chest and belly. She paid attention to his nipples, flicking and pinching and scratching at them to pull delicious grunts from him.

When she’d given his upper body a thorough tease, she let her hand wander further south. He grumbled when her hand didn’t join its partner on his cock, but rather it dipped lower to trace his inner thigh. His legs were tense and trembling as she traced the seam where his thigh joined his hip. He exhaled raggedly when her hand finally skated across the underside of his cock to cradle his balls in her palm.

“Fuck,” he panted as she massaged them gently. When she once again slowed the motion of her hand on his erection, he rasped, “Please. Please, Rose.”

Rose nodded and pressed a hard, quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. He was too far gone to reciprocate.

“Just a sec,” she said, releasing him with both hands.

His cock bobbed and twitched. James let out a pathetic whimper and wrenched open his eyes; they were dark and glazed over. Rose grabbed a dish towel that had been tossed haphazardly onto the counter, then returned to her husband.

His eyes fluttered shut again when she took him in hand and built him back up. His hips undulated with her rhythm, so Rose adjusted her motions to work with him, pumping him harder and faster with every stroke. This time she didn’t slow her hand.

“Rose,” he gasped urgently, “I’m gonna… I’m… oh, fuck…” 

Goosebumps prickled out across Rose’s skin, fifteen and a half years of experience having conditioned her that her pleasure would come with his. Her gut tightened deliciously as he started to moan, first deeply then higher-pitched as his face pinched into an expression of pure rapture. His hands shot out to grab the edge of the sink for balance, and his head tipped back as he sucked in a sharp breath.

Positioning the towel at the head of his flushed cock, Rose pumped him with purpose. She rotated her wrist on the upstroke as she counted down in her head.

Three… two… one… 

James let out a cry of relief that weakened Rose’s knees as he spurted messily into the towel. She worked him through it, timing her squeezing upstroke with each pulse of his cock, delighting in his grunts and heavy breathing.

Must have been a good one, Rose thought as he continued throbbing in her hand, his hips jerking forward every few seconds. He was beautiful as he stood there, face blank, mouth hanging open as panting moans escaped him. A dull ache of desire coiled low in Rose’s belly, but she pushed it aside.

“Oh, God,” he croaked when he was finally spent.

She could feel him softening and stroked him one last time. He sighed, his hips jumping, then she released him. 

“I take it that was good?” Rose teased, knowing damn well it was.

When he eventually opened his eyes, they had a dazed, sleepy look about them, and he grinned.

Rose returned the expression, then folded up the soiled towel, discreetly wiped her hands clean, and set it on the counter. She stepped up to James and pulled his pajama bottoms up his hips, careful not to snag his softening cock.

She enveloped him in a hug, one that he eagerly reciprocated. He tucked his face into her neck and inhaled deeply, holding her so tightly it sent warmth thudding through her with every heartbeat; she loved their post-coital cuddles and this one was no different, no matter that they were standing.

“Thank you,” he whispered. He brought his hand up to comb his fingers through her hair, then he cradled the back of her head as his lips descended on hers. The kiss was reverent and knee-wobblingly gentle. “I love you.” He kissed her again. “That was incredible. If not orgasming in over two weeks makes it feel like that, I should abstain more often.”

“Only for the next few weeks. Once I’m cleared for sex, you’d better not hold out on me, mister.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured, swaying them lightly. “When you’re ready to make love, I’m going to repay that delightful orgasm tenfold.”

“I don’t think you could possibly make me come ten times,” Rose said dryly.

“Is that a challenge?”

Rose rolled her eyes. “As much as I love when you make me come multiple times, I think I would pass out if you made it to ten. Or at the very least have some uncomfortable chafing.”

“Our record is seven,” James said. “Surely it’s not that unfeasible to get you to ten.”

“That record was before we had kids,” Rose reminded. “We literally spent hours and hours in bed.”

“If my memory serves me correctly—which it does, ‘cos I’m brilliant—it was in the kitchen, on the couch, against a wall, then in bed,” he said, pulling back to smile down at her.

“Is that supposed to impress me?”

“Are you not impressed?” He pouted. “If you’d like, I could regale you with the exact number of orgasms you’ve had. You, Rose Tyler-McCrimmon, have had…” His tongue pressed distractingly to the backs of his teeth as he thought. “…Four-thousand nine-hundred and fourteen orgasms with yours truly.”

Rose blinked, her attention finally broken away from his tongue. “What, seriously?”

James winked roguishly at her, exuding a haughty air for a few extended seconds, before a sheepish smile stole over his face. “Nah, I just did some quick guesstimating. We’ve been sexually active for fifteen years and eight months. If you assume we make love three times a week—which is quite low for some weeks, but then there were others where we didn’t at all so it probably evens out—and that you orgasm at least twice whenever we have sex—again, this is quite low for some sessions—then that gets us to four-thousand nine-hundred and fourteen. And that’s a very conservative estimate. I’m sure we must have crossed the threshold of five-thousand by now.”

Rose cackled and lifted up onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to her husband’s lips.

“Oh, you absolute utter nutter!”

He hummed happily. “I’m your absolute utter nutter.”

“D’you know what?” she asked conspiratorially. His eyes twinkled as he awaited her response. “That quick mental maths you just did is much more impressive than if you’d actually been keeping count all these years.”

He grinned at her, then hauled her in for another kiss.

oOoOo

Later that night, Rose lounged in Ainsley’s bed beside her daughter while James sat at the foot of the bed, absently playing with Rose’s feet. They tried to make sure Ainsley read aloud to them each night, and while usually they traded off the job, sometimes they both wanted to listen to the story. That was the case this night, as they were part way through Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, and James and Rose enjoyed the opportunity for a reread of the series.

James sat back against the wall and massaged his thumbs into Rose’s instep as he listened to Ainsley narrate Harry and Ron’s misadventure into the Whomping Willow.

Ainsley was a good reader. Her vocabulary was strong and she had an excellent grasp on the grammar and fluidity of language, but tonight her voice was a little flat and she kept tripping over her words.

James caught Rose’s eye and saw she’d noticed too. When the chapter came to an end, before he could say anything, Ainsley asked, “Can we stop there tonight?”

“Of course, darling,” James said. “Is anything the matter?”

“I guess I’m just not in the mood to read.”

“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” Rose asked, moving to wrap her arm around Ainsley’s shoulders.

“Why would something be bothering me?” she snapped, flinching away from Rose.

James was taken aback, and judging from Rose’s slackened jaw, so was she. Before he could reprimand his daughter for her behavior, Ainsley mumbled, “Sorry.”

“You can always talk to me,” Rose said, wringing her hands in her lap as though she didn’t know what to do with them. “Or to your dad.”

“I know,” Ainsley said.

James bit his lip and tentatively rested his hand on the blanket covering Ainsley’s foot. She didn’t pull away. “Is it about the twins?”

Ainsley wrinkled her nose. “What? No. Why?”

“Well, it’s been you and Sianin for a long time, and now there are two babies in the house,” James said carefully. “It’s a lot to adjust to. Mum and I won’t be upset if you’re upset about them.”

“No, they’re fine,” Ainsley said firmly. “I love having them here.”

James’s shoulders relaxed and he squeezed her foot. “Do you want me and Mum to leave you alone for the night?”

Ainsley glanced over at Rose, then at James, and shook her head. “Can I have a hug?”

“Of course, love,” Rose said, tugging Ainsley in for the hug their daughter had rejected mere moments ago. “I’m sorry you’re feeling out of sorts tonight. Is there anything we can do?”

She shrugged and nestled closer to Rose’s chest. James was at a loss, so he continued petting Ainsley’s feet through the blankets.

“Can I ask you something?” Ainsley’s voice was muffled by Rose’s shirt.

“Always.”

“Did you… I mean… This might sound stupid,” Ainsley admitted.

“Impossible,” James assured her. “There’s no such thing as a stupid question.”

“Yes, there is,” Ainsley said dryly, cracking a small smile. It slipped as she said, “When you realized you were soulmated, did you feel… trapped?”

James squinted at his wife. Her expression mirrored his.

“What do you mean?” James asked.

“Like… one day you were going about your business, then the next, the universe decided you were suddenly matched with another human being and tied to them. Forever. Was that… scary? Overwhelming?”

James’s brain worked fast to try and figure out where her question was coming from. For as long as she’d understood the concept of soulmates, Ainsley had longed for one of her own. Had she been soulmated and now felt differently about it? 

“For me, it was an exciting day to realize the universe had given me a forever friend,” Rose said, her voice slow and cautious as she, too, tried to figure out what had prompted their daughter’s question.

“Same,” James agreed.

“Yeah, but later, when the excitement had worn off. Did it feel like your choice had been taken from you? Like… you have a soulmate. And you’re stuck with them. You had no input whatsoever about who you’d fall in love with and marry and have kids with.”

“I guess a little bit,” Rose answered, and James thought all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Before his panic could thoroughly suffocate him, Rose continued, “Though my main fear was actually a bit of the opposite. I was worried that my soulmate wouldn’t want to be stuck with me for eternity.”

The air had returned to James’s lungs, though his chest was still a bit tight. He reached over and squeezed Rose’s foot. She flashed him a small smile before returning her attention to Ainsley.

“Being soulmated didn’t necessarily take away my decision to fall in love, though,” Rose said. “I was five when I realized I was soulmated. I knew what love was, but I didn’t truly understand the scale of it. Your dad and I started out as friends, then as we got older, our feelings evolved. Do you know what platonic love is?”

“Love between friends?” Ainsley asked.

“Exactly. Our love started platonically, then grew into romantic love when we were older because that’s what we both wanted. But there are some soulmates who remain best friends, and that works for them.”

“For my part, I was a hopeless romantic,” James admitted, earning him a giggle from his daughter. “But you must understand, I had soulmated parents who were very much in love, and I decided at a young age that that’s what I wanted as well. When I met your mother, she became my best friend overnight. I loved her deeply and knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. Our love grew as we did.”

“Where are these questions coming from? Have you… been soulmated?” Rose asked carefully.

Ainsley sighed heavily. “No. But my friend Teddy is. Just today, it happened. And he was acting all dramatic and unhappy, whining about being stuck with a girl his whole life. He was being kind of stupid about it all, and talked about his soulmate really rudely. But it got me wondering if other people were upset when they found out they were soulmated.”

“I’m sure some people feel like their choice is being taken away from them, while others are happy about it,” James said.

“It’s not fair,” Ainsley lamented. “That Teddy has a soulmate but doesn’t want one.”

“I know,” Rose said, kissing the top of Ainsley’s head. 

They all became quiet for a minute, until Ainsley asked, “Do you ever get bored? I mean, you’ve been together for decades.”

“Oi, you make us sound ancient,” James whined.

Ainsley laughed. “I just meant that you know everything about each other. Doesn’t it get boring?”

“Well, we have four kids to spice up our lives.”

“Gee, thanks,” Rose muttered.

James cringed as he realized how that sounded. “I didn’t mean it like that. Obviously if we didn’t have kids, I’d still be as in love with your mum as ever.”

“Why don’t you do date nights anymore?” Ainsley asked curiously.

James frowned.

“I could sometimes hear you in the living room watching a film or having dinner or something,” Ainsley explained. Then her cheeks turned pink. “Or… erm… later, in your room.”

James’s face went hot.

“Or Sianin and I would have a sleepover at Grandad’s house so you could go out. But you haven’t done that in ages.”

“The twins have us pretty busy right now,” Rose said. “We’re tired at night, so we don’t usually do anything fancy. But remember, your dad is on paternity leave so we get to spend the entire day together.”

“Oh. So you and Dad are… okay?” Ainsley asked, glancing between the two of them.

“We’re wonderful,” James promised. “Would you like us to snog right now as proof?”

Rose kicked him half-heartedly as Ainsley shrieked, “Ew! No!” James giggled. “Well. Rather that than overhearing you in your bedroom.”

Once again, James’s cheeks flamed.

“I haven’t heard… erm…  that in a while either,” Ainsley said awkwardly. “Not that I’m complaining. But… just…”

“Sweetheart, why are you so concerned about me and your dad?” Rose asked, her voice impossibly soft and tinged with sadness. “Have we done or said something…?”

Ainsley shrugged and strangled the corner of her blanket between her hands. “My friend’s parents are getting divorced. She’s really upset about it ‘cos she didn’t know anything was wrong between her mum and dad.”

“Sometimes mums and dads are better apart than they are together,” Rose said gently, giving Ainsley a tight squeeze. “A spouse or romantic partner should make you into the best version of yourself you can possibly be. You dad brings out the best in me, and he makes me want to be better. He makes me the happiest I’ve ever been.

“But sometimes all of that just… stops. And it’s nobody’s fault. But it’s good for people to recognize that the situation they’re in isn’t healthy anymore, and it’s best if they go their separate ways.”

“Can a divorce happen between soulmated people?” Ainsley asked, glancing between her parents.

“I’m sure there are cases of it,” James answered. Ainsley deflated and he hastened to add, “But that’s not gonna happen between me and your mum.”

“How can you be sure?” she pressed.

“I… well…” James floundered for a response that wasn’t “because I know”. 

Rose, seeing him struggling, touched Ainsley’s cheek to get her attention. “I suppose nobody can say anything with absolute certainty. However, I can promise you right now that I have absolutely no intention of leaving your dad, and I have a very difficult time imagining ever wanting to. I fall more in love with him every day and love that I’m married to him.”

“The same for me,” James said, his voice a little hoarse. His heart ached at the thought of him and Rose not being together. He couldn’t even fathom it. He was one-hundred percent certain that he and Rose would be together forever, in this life and in whatever came after. “I’m sorry your friend is going through that hardship. And that it’s made you nervous.”

“I wasn’t really nervous,” Ainsley said quickly, but the vulnerability that had been splayed across her face minutes ago contradicted her statement. James merely nodded though.

“Are you feeling better?” Rose asked, smoothing Ainsley’s hair away from her face.

“Yeah,” she said, nestling down into her pillow.

“Thank you for talking with me and Dad.”

“Thanks for listening,” Ainsley said, then she heaved a sigh that sounded too big to come from her tiny body. “I still feel a bit funny inside.”

“Illness funny or weird funny?” Rose asked, unconsciously pressing her fingers to Ainsley’s cheeks and forehead.

“Weird funny. Like… I feel sad but I dunno why. ‘Cos I’m not sad, I don’t think.”

“As you get older and have more experiences, you’ll start to feel more emotions that you might not know what to do with,” Rose said. “It’s perfectly normal, but may be overwhelming sometimes. Can you try to promise me you’ll come talk with me or your dad, or even your gran or grandad, if things get overwhelming? No matter how silly you think it is?”

“I promise,” Ainsley said, flashing a small smile.

“Good girl,” Rose said. “Do you think you can sleep now?”

Ainsley nodded, and James scooted off the bed before helping Rose slip off.

“I love you so, so much,” Rose whispered to her daughter. She peppered a series of kisses across Ainsley’s face, covering her forehead and cheeks and chin and nose. “Goodnight Ainsley.”

“Night Mum.”

James stepped forward when Rose backed away.

“Nighty night, darling,” he said, leaning down to brush a kiss to his daughter’s cheek. He smoothed out her blankets and fussed with them, making sure there were no folds or lumps as he tucked them around her shoulders. “Gonna bundle you in nice and tight.”

James grinned at his laughing child as he tucked the blankets under Ainsley’s body, cocooning her snugly. He then pressed a smacking kiss to her forehead.

“G’night Daddy,” she said, her eyes bright.

“Sweet dreams.”

He and Rose backed out of her room, flicking the lights off and shutting the door behind them.

“Well that was… unexpected,” James groaned when they plopped down on the couch together.

“She is nine,” Rose said pointedly. “Pretty soon she’ll be starting puberty and dealing with all these new and weird hormones and emotions and…”

“Don’t remind me. That’s not supposed to happen. She’s my baby girl.”

Rose patted his chest comfortingly. They were silent for a few moments before she said, her voice teasing, “So… our kids are the only reason you haven’t gotten bored of me.”

It took James a moment, but he finally remembered the context of her quip. “I really am sorry about that,” he said, grimacing. He scrubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean it how it came out.”

“I know,” Rose assured. “It’s funny, is all.” She snuggled in to his side, and he hugged her close, her warmth soothing. “What do you think we’d do if we didn’t have kids to keep you entertained?”

“Have more sex,” he deadpanned.

“Even more than we already have?” Rose snorted. “Blimey, I dunno if that’s even possible.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’d manage.” He stroked his fingers up and down the length of her arm. “What do you think we’d do if we didn’t have kids?”

“Probably travel a bit more.” James felt a little guilty that she actually gave a real answer while he provides a blasé one. “I mean, we already travel quite a lot, but it’s very strictly planned to either make sure the places we go are kid-friendly, or to arrange for child care so you and I can go somewhere.” Rose paused for a moment before she admitted, “I kind of miss the spontaneity that came with not having kids.”

“I do, too,” he agreed. “Though I think the presence of the kids makes me cherish the alone time I have with you even more. It’d get a bit dull spending every waking minute together, wouldn’t it?”

“Charming,” Rose drawled, flicking the back of his head.

“Do you understand what I mean, though?” he asked, worried that perhaps he was alone in his feelings and was instead digging himself into a hole.

Rose stared at him, letting him simmer in his uncertainty for a few long seconds before she winked at him and leaned up to kiss him swiftly.

“Yeah, I understand,” she said. “For the record, I agree. I adore our children and I would never, ever wish them out of my life, but they give me a greater appreciation for moments like this.” She gestured vaguely around the living room. “I love spending time with you and the kids, but I also love when it’s just us.”

“So… now that it’s just the two of us, what are we gonna do?” James purred into her ear.

“I was actually considering getting ready for bed,” Rose admitted, smiling sheepishly.

James burst out laughing, and he squeezed his arm around her shoulders.

“It’s not that I’m ready to sleep, but I’m tired and want to lie down and get settled in for the night.”

“Sounds good to me,” he said.

Together, they locked up the house and carried the twins from the bassinets in the living room to the bassinets in their bedroom.

“Want to play a game?” Rose asked after they’d gone through their nighttime routine and were lounging in bed. “Like Word Association or something?”

“Sure.” Word Association was one of their favorite pillow talk games to play. One of them would start with a random word, then the other would say the first word that popped into their head that was somehow associated with the original word. The game was over if one of them couldn’t come up with a word within a couple seconds, or if a word was reused. “You start.”

“Bed,” Rose said.

“Pillow.”

“Head.”

“Blowjob.”

“How the hell…?” Rose giggled.

“Y’know… giving head,” he replied, waggling his eyebrows. “Go on. You next.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Cuddle.” She rolled into his arms as she said the word, and he hugged her close.

“Warm,” he murmured, burrowing himself into her soft heat.

“Summer.”

“Beach.”

“Sand.”

“Arse.” He let his hand wander down her back until he cupped her bum.

“Seriously?” Rose laughed, swatting his hand.

“Seriously! Sand gets everywhere, Rose,” he said gravely, though he kept his hand where it was.

She pressed a kiss to his chest. “Sex.”

“Kiss.” He ducked down to catch her lips in a long kiss, his tongue darting out to swipe against hers.

“Wet,” she rasped.

He smirked. “Arousal.”

“Handsome.”

“Beautiful,” he whispered, nudging his nose against hers before he kissed her again.

She twined her fingers through his hair, keeping him where he was as she returned his kiss.

“Flattery,” she mumbled against his mouth before scraping her teeth against his bottom lip. He hummed into the kiss and nearly forgot about the game entirely until she said, “Your turn.”

“Love,” he breathed, hoping he picked something associated with the word she’d given. Frankly, he had forgotten what she’d said.

“Lust,” she said, scratching her fingernails across his scalp.

Hot tingles broke out across his skin and he shuddered, barely swallowing down a moan. His lips moved hungrily against hers, chasing the pleasurable sensations that came with snogging his wife.

“Your turn,” Rose prompted yet again.

James could hardly think straight, especially as she kept teasing her fingers through his hair. “Sex.”

“Ha!” Rose popped her lips away from his, leaving him dazed and disoriented. A victorious grin was on her face; she looked far too clear-headed for his liking. “I already used that word. I win!”

“I think you cheated,” he pouted, though he really wished she would keep kissing him.

“I think someone’s a sore loser,” Rose said, her tongue poking out as she beamed.

“I demand a rematch.” James rolled until his body was pressed up to hers. He crushed his mouth to hers, delighting in her surprised hiss. He chased her tongue back into her mouth, stroking and teasing it as his hands wandered up and down the length of her spine.

“Tongue,” he said against her mouth.

“T-teeth,” she sighed as he nibbled his way across her jaw and down her neck.

“Bite,” he answered, giving her a quick nip as he spoke.

She whimpered and arched her head back to give him better access. “Suck.”

“As you wish,” he responded, latching his mouth to the side of her neck.

“N-no, that was my word,” Rose said. She whined when he popped his mouth away from her skin. “Though you can keep doing that, if you’d like.”

He grinned, and said, “Cock,” before attaching his mouth to her once more. Maybe it was cheating, but he let his lips and teeth wander down to the sensitive join where her neck met her shoulder. She shuddered in his arms and let out a breathy gasp.

“Your turn,” he whispered between kisses. “Unless you’d like to concede the game?”

“Stiffy,” she said.

“Stubborn woman,” he muttered. “Rub.”

“Grind.”

“Thrust.”

“Moan.”

“Groan,” he purred into her ear. His brain was close to short-circuiting with the love and pleasure coursing through his body. He knew they would need to stop the game before he became too aroused; it was torture knowing he couldn’t roll on top of Rose and make love with her. But nevertheless, he was enjoying this bit of teasing, despite the heavy ache throbbing between his legs.

They made it through a few more words, each one raunchier than the last, before Rose placed her hand on his chest and said, “I want to stop now.”

It was as though a bucket of ice water had been thrown on him. He scooted away immediately.

“Are you all right? I’m sorry, I…”

“I’m fine,” Rose assured. He cheeks were flushed and her pupils were blown wide. “It was getting too intense, though.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be. I was enjoying that very much.” Rose reached over to rest her hand on his chest. “But we can’t go any further, and if we’d kept up the game, I would’ve forgotten why we couldn’t go any further.”

James nodded and reached up to twine his fingers with hers. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles and held her hand, neither of them speaking.

“Are you all right?” Rose asked. “Need to go take care of yourself or anything? Or want me to give you a hand?”

“You gave me a hand this morning. Two hands, actually.” He winked roguishly at her, making he grin.

“I don’t mind doing it again,” she said sincerely. “Honestly.”

“I know. And thank you, but I’ll be fine.” And he was. Already, his erection had flagged and would be completely gone in a few minutes.

“That was really fun,” Rose admitted.

“Yeah, it was,” he said. “Can we have a cuddle? Or are you too worked up still?”

In reply, Rose took her hand from him and rolled onto her side, facing away from him. She then reached back to draw him in as he curved his body around hers. They wiggled around for a few moments, getting settled. When her bum brushed across the front of his pants, she teased, “You sure you don’t need a private moment?”

“Quite sure,” he said, rolling his eyes even though she couldn’t see. “It was going down ‘til you started grinding.”

“Unintentionally grinding,” she corrected.

“You comfy?” he asked, tucking his face into her neck.

“Mhm… wanna bet a baby will start crying in thirty seconds?”

“Don’t jinx it,” he whined, pinching her side.

Rose giggled quietly in the darkness. James gave her middle a squeeze and burrowed closer into her warmth.

The twins did not, in fact, begin crying thirty seconds later. Or even thirty minutes later. By that time, Rose had already fallen asleep and was snoring into her pillow, and James had stopped listening for the beginnings of a cry. He instead listened to the sounds of his home: Rose’s breathing. The twins’ occasional snuffling grunts and coos. The flushing of a toilet down the hall.

He strained his ears and heard shuffling footfalls. The footsteps were getting closer, before they disappeared altogether.

Must’ve been Ainsley, he thought to himself. Her room was the closest to theirs.

But then he heard the sound of little voices. Frowning, he disentangled himself from Rose and slipped out of bed. He exited his bedroom and crept towards Ainsley’s room, where the door was ajar.

He could hear his two eldest children speaking quietly, and when he knocked at the door, their voices went silent.

“Everything all right?” he asked.

Sianin was in Ainsley’s bed, facing the wall with the blankets pulled up to her ears. Ainsley peered at her little sister, then to him.

“She wee’d the bed,” Ainsley said.

“Ainsley!” Sianin cried.

“What? Daddy would’ve realized tomorrow morning anyway.”

Sianin sniffled and pulled the blankets higher up her face.

“Are you all right, Sianin?” James asked, stepping to the foot of the bed. He wished Ainsley’s bed wasn’t pushed against the wall so he could crouch down in front of her.

“It was an accident,” Sianin whimpered, her voice muffled.

“I know,” he said soothingly. “Did you put on clean jammies?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to sleep with Ainsley tonight?” James asked, hoping his eldest didn’t mind.

“Yeah.”

“Okay then,” he said. “Goodnight, darling.”

She mumbled something he couldn’t catch, then poked her hand out of the blankets to pull Ainsley down beside her. Ainsley rolled her eyes but was smiling fondly at her little sister.

“This all right?” he asked.

“Mhm,” Ainsley replied, yawning. She curled up behind Sianin and draped an arm around her waist.

James thought his heart might melt into his toes at the picture of his children cuddling together.

“Goodnight, my darlings,” he whispered. “I love you lots.”

“G’night. Love you,” Ainsley said sleepily, while Sianin just grunted.

He stepped out of the room and with a heavy exhale, went to Sianin’s room to clean up. He chucked her sheets and soiled clothes into the wash, then cleaned up her mattress. He was just putting the cleaning supplies away when he caught sight of movement from the corner of his eye.

“Everything all right?” Rose asked, her eyes bleary.

“Yep. Sianin wet the bed is all, but I’ve got it sorted,” James said.

Rose frowned. “She hasn’t done that in… God, I dunno how long.”

“I know,” James said. “It wasn’t too bad, though. She must’ve woken up part way through. Her bedding’s in the wash now, and she’s sleeping with Ainsley tonight.”

Rose nodded and yawned again. “Anything I can help with?”

He shook his head. “I was about to come back to bed. Were the twins up?”

“Just got done feeding them.”

She held out her hand for his. Hand in hand, they walked down the corridor towards their room. Rose tugged him to a stop so she could poke her head into Ainsley’s room.

The girls were in the same position he’d left them in, with Sianin facing the wall and the blankets tugged up nearly over her head, and Ainsley spooned up behind her.

“Oh,” Rose cooed, pressing her hand to her chest.

He smiled, then reached out to shut Ainsley’s door.

“I wonder what could’ve caused Sianin’s accident,” Rose mused as they crawled into bed.

“Dunno,” he said, curling up against Rose.

“I hope it’s a one-off. Maybe she forgot to wee before bed. Or drank more water than usual. Or had a scary dream. Or…” 

“Or a dream where she really had to wee.”

Rose snorted. “Or that.”

“She’s probably fine,” James said with a contented sigh.

“Mhm,” Rose agreed, turning her body into his. She flung a leg over one of his and wrapped her arm around his waist, nuzzling her face into his chest.

“Goodnight, Rose,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

She muttered something unintelligible, and he nearly laughed; she sounded just like Sianin had.

Like mother, like daughter.

He breathed in deeply and kissed her again before closing his eyes and attempting sleep.

If you’ve made it to the end, consider leaving a comment or reblogging? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Since We’re Alone (8/?) Fake Dating AU 

Summary: Killian Jones punched another bouncer in the face and Emma Swan threatened the paparazzi who got too close to her. With both their reputations at risk their managers pull together a deal that sure to gain them better press coverage. Who can resist watching two attractive people fall in love? 

Notes: Don’t hate me, gotta love that angst 

FF   Ao3 

Chapter Eight: The Fight

The next week was the beginning of the flurry that would be the couple’s lives for the upcoming months. Killian and the band were working night and day to have the album recorded in time. They were also beginning to plan for their tour that would start a month after the release of the album. Emma had almost daily meetings at the studio, whether she was in the costume department or discussing her role with Zelena.

Emma and Killian weren’t seeing a lot of each other and the media caught onto it, claiming the couple had spilt. When Killian had sent Emma the article she laughed and responded immediately.

Emma: Looks like it’s official, we’re done.

Killian: It was good while it lasted ;)

Emma: Do you think anyone believes these articles? They have no clue what goes on with our lives

Killian: I hope they don’t, but Regina thinks we should post something on social media… Emma rolls her eyes. Of course Regina thinks that. Ever since the award show Regina has been on her ass about it. David thinks it’s a good idea, but knows when to back off. Killian knows she’s not wild about it.

Emma: Fine, we can post something tonight if necessary she sends off.

Killian: As you wish, love. She smiles before putting her phone away and focusing on the script in front of her. She’s set to be on location for the film in ten days and she almost has all her lines memorized. She needs to work on this today because with the couple’s impending separation they are determined to spend as much time as possible together. Emma is going over to Killian’s later tonight for a quiet night in.

Emma knows that they are scrambling for any amount of time they have together and it never seems as though they never have enough time. Her being on location for a month won’t even be the longest time they have apart. Killian and his band will be on tour for much longer than that. Emma doesn’t know how she’ll handle the separation. She doesn’t want to think about it at all. She gets distracted from her script again and curses herself before actually going through her lines again.

Later that night when Emma arrives at Killian’s house she finds him in the kitchen cooking them dinner. A couple pots are on the stove and as Emma walks closer she can feels the heat radiating from the oven. Killian still hasn’t noticed her yet, he’s completely lost in the task at hand. Emma clears her throat and his head whips around, a smiling when his eyes meet hers.

“Well, hello there, love. I didn’t hear you come in.” She walks over and surveys what exactly is in the pots. As she passes by him she brushes a kiss across his cheek. Before she gets too far from his grasp Killian wraps his arms around her waist. He presses a kiss into her temple.

“You can cook?” She asks pleasantly surprised. Emma relaxes in his arms and looks up at him.

“Yes, we’re having lamb with asparagus and rice,” he tells her. Emma places her hand on his chest.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” she teases him and she can feel a low rumble of laughter move throughout his chest.

“I had no idea you were looking for a man who has skills in the kitchen,” he smirks. Emma playfully swats his chest.

“I didn’t mean that at all and you know it,” she rolls her eyes.

“Hmm are you sure? Now, I’m thinking you’re after me for my cooking abilities,” he says while tightening his grip around her waist.

“If I was I’m not doing a very good job because it’s been a couple months and you’re only cooking for me now,” she raises her eyebrow, challenging him.

“Fair point. I guess you’re off the hook for now.” Killian releases her to to tend to the food. Emma just shakes her head. She pushes herself onto the counter, sitting there watching Killian at work.

“Should be ready in just a few more minutes,” he tells her.

“Do you need any help? You probably don’t want me to touch the food because it’s more than likely to catch on fire. My abilities are more in the realm of getting drinks or setting a table,” she suggests.

“Ah I see, so it’s not that you want a man who cooks for you. It’s that you need one,” he says throwing a wink at her.

“Do you want help or not?” she says feigning annoyance.

“The table is set, but some drinks would be lovely if you could,” he says kindly. Emma hops off the counter and glances through his selection of wine before choosing one. Once she does she shows him the label.

“Good choice,” he nods. Emma works on opening the bottle of wine while Killian strains the asparagus and rice. He also pulls the lamb from the oven. Once everything is placed in serving dishes Emma helps him carry everything out to the table.

“It smells amazing,” she tells him.

“Thank you, love.” When both their plates are full of food Emma pulls out her phone and snaps a picture of her plate.

“What are you up to?” He asks before digging in.

“Regina wants a social media presence, so she’ll get one. Instagram knows you can cook now,” Emma smirks before taking a bite.

“Ah good to know, love,” he says, noting he should probably comment on the picture. His train of thought cut short by the noise coming from Emma.

“This is seriously so good,” she practically moan the last word, “As much as I don’t want to make your ego even bigger...”

“But?” He smirks.

“This might be the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” she tells him.

“Ah well thank you, love. It’s a favorite of mine to make. I’m glad you like it,” he blushes at her compliment. She smiles and their meal goes well with them talking about their perspective days. Once they finish eating Killian pulls out his phone opening instagram. He immediately sees Emma’s picture with the caption of damn he can cook too with several heart eye emojis. A grins crosses his face and he looks up at her. She smirks at him before she takes another sip of her wine. He likes the picture and adds a comment of his own. A notification lights up her phone.

“Are you causing trouble?” she asks, unlocking her phone.

“Perhaps,” he tells her. The comment on her picture reads you only want me for my cooking abilities with a winky face. She chuckles and responds in kind. Her comment reads you know that’s not true.

“Hope that satisfies Regina,” she mumbles.

“Unlikely, but she’ll stop hounding us for a couple days at least,” he tells her.

“I’ll take it,” she says. A silence falls over them and it’s not uncomfortable, but the silence is full of all the unsaid things between them. Killian is the first to break it.

“We should talk about it,” he states.

“We should,” she sighs, not quite meeting his eye. He raises an eyebrow at this.

“Do you not want to?” he asks her, unsure about how she’s feeling at this moment. All he knows her shoulder tense up.

“Not particularly, but that doesn’t change anything,” she states.

“We’ll be apart for sometime after next week. I don’t want anything left unsaid between us,” he says reaching out for her hand. She laces her fingers with his.

“I’ve never been very good at the relationship thing and that was when I was in the same city as the person,” she says, not quite looking at him once again.

“I’d like to think we’re doing a pretty good job so far, but correct me if I’m wrong,” she shakes her head, “then I think we just have to do the best we can. We’ll both be busy and working hard. Thank god for technology so we can skype and visit each other.”

“I know,” she says quietly. He brings her hand to his lips, kissing it softly.

“Then what is the problem?” he asks her. Damn him and his ability to read her.

“The problem is I want to be with you, not miles and miles apart from you,” she confesses. Killian pulls on her hand.

“Come here,” he insists. Emma stands and he pulls her to him. He guides her to sit in his lap. She’s looking intently at him. He kisses her tenderly. He never wants this to end, this feeling of content is something he could spend the rest of his life feeling. She pulls away and he looks up into her gleaming green eyes.

“I want that too. The distance will be a challenge, but I think we can handle it, don’t you?” he asks her. She nods and he captures her lips with his once again. Not bothering to clean up Killian scoops Emma up in his arms and carries her into his bedroom.

Later that night Killian finds his bed empty, frowning he gets up from bed and wonders out of his room. He finds her cleaning up in the kitchen. Emma standing there in one of his shirts her golden hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. My gods she’s beautiful and she should definitely wear his shirts more often. Still trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes he finally gets her attention.

“Love, what are you doing?” he asks her, spotting a clock on the wall reading that it’s just past three in the morning.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she shrugs, loading the dishwasher. He walks over to her and helps her finish up.

“You didn’t have to clean up,” he tells her.

“I was up and you cooked the least I could do is clean up,” she tells him. He just nods.

“How often does this happen?” he asks her a hand trailing up and down her back. Emma looks to him sheepishly.

“Eh often enough. I’ve always had some trouble sleeping,” she shrugs.

“You could’ve woken me,” he tells her pressing a kiss into her temple.

“And have both of us sleep deprived? No, you need your sleep,” she says her hands sweeping up his biceps.

“So do you. I can leave you down here to do whatever you like or would you like to come back to bed with me,” he says, giving her a choice. Emma takes his hand in hers and leads him back to bed. When she drifts off to sleep she gets some of the best rest she’s had in months.

The next day they both sleep through their alarms and are woken by  a quite irate Will Scarlet.

“Oh for the love of god. Love birds, let’s go!” Will yells throwing the door open. Emma groans and rolls over, hiding her face in a pillow.

“Scarlet!” Killian shouts back, “Out! I will be down in ten minutes.”

“If you’re not I’ll be back,” Will says pointing a finger at Killian. Emma rolls back over and flips off Will, who just laughs on his way out.

“It seems we slept a little late, love,” Killian says kissing her neck.

“Mhmm we did,” she smiles, “You better get downstairs and in the studio before Will sends Regina in here.” The momentary fear that is in his eyes makes Emma laugh. He groans then buries his head into the crook of her neck. Killian reluctantly gets out of bed and hops in the shower quickly. He comes out a couple minutes later and dresses in record time. He sinks into the bed next to her and she smiles up at him.

“I know you’ve got places to be as well, but I’ll see you at the album release party on Friday?” he asks her.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she tells him. He gives her one last kiss as they hear Will stomp up the steps. Emma pushes him off the bed, telling him to get his ass to work.

The rest of their week flies by. Emma forgot she asked Mary Margaret and David to come with her to the album release party. When they show up at her doorstep ready to go Mary Margaret takes one look at her and shakes her head.

“Come on, I’ll do your makeup,” Mary Margaret pushes her upstairs, David trailing behind them.

“Did you forget we were coming?” David asks shocked as Mary Margaret pushes Emma into a chair.

“No, I napped after I got back from the studio today then I overslept and I’m not ready,” Emma grumbles.

“Clearly,” Mary Margaret scoffs, getting to work. David looks to Emma with an eyebrow raised.

“Are you going to be ready for all the on sight shooting? You leave for Paris next week,” David says, checking in with her.

“David, I’m fine, I’m ready,” she tells him. Emma wishing she could roll her eyes, but Mary Margaret is awfully close to stabbing her eye with the eyeliner. Fearing for her eye’s safety she stays still. All week they have been doing all the stunts that require the green screen. It’s been a long, hard week.

“As your brother and manager it’s my job to check in on you,” David scolds her.

“I know it is and I’m telling you. I’m fine. Are there any reporters at this party?” Emma asks David.

“Just photographers, no interviews for you tonight,” David nods. Emma is grateful for it, she definitely doesn’t have the energy for a fake smiling and fake answers. There are three, rather loud knocks at her door.

“I’ll get it,” David says as Mary Margaret works away furiously. A few minutes later David comes up with Killian, who looks a little frantic.

“Swan, you’re not dead,” Killian says sighing in relief. Emma tries to frown, but Mary Margaret fixes her with a serious look.

“Did you think I was?” Emma asks concern in her voice.

“You didn’t answer your phone and you said you were doing that stunt with all the flips today,” he says their eyes connecting in the mirror. Emma laughs and turns to Killian much to Mary Margaret’s annoyance.

“Killian, I don’t do the stunts I stand in for the first part then the stunt double jumps in and I come in again in the end. I wasn’t in danger I promise,” she reassures him. Killian’s face turns bright red and he scratches his ear.

“Right well of course that would be dangerous. Of course you don’t um do that,” he says.

“It’s sweet you thought I could do it though,” she smiles before Mary Margaret grabs her face to finish up.

“You can be adorable later, I need to finish this so we’re not late,” she tells the couple.

“I came as well because Regina wanted us to arrive together,” he tells her. Not longer after Emma is ready to go and they pile into one car to the venue. It’s not a huge party, but big enough to have some press in front of it. They pose for some pictures and Killian’s grip on her is tighter than usual. Usually during pictures his movements are light and carefree, even at times teasing. Tonight it’s like he’s worried if he let’s go she’ll blow away in the wind.

“Killian, what’s wrong?” she whispers in between pictures.  He shakes his head and in his eyes she can see he promises to tell her later. Emma simply gives his hand a small squeeze. Once inside Killian pulls Emma to the side.

“Killian,” Emma implores, searching his eyes.

“I was just so worried all day when you didn’t answer it felt like it was happening all over again. That I was losing someone I care for again,” he says his voice shaking, care isn’t quite the word he would like to use. He can’t say love, though. Emma wasn’t ready to hear that. Emma places a hand on his face.

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer. I didn’t mean to scare you so. You haven’t lost me. I’m here, I’m here,” she tells him, resting her head on his. He takes her in his arms for a moment and breathes her in. At times Emma forgets that she isn’t the only one with baggage. Killian hides his so well she sometimes forgets. He’s had people he loves leave like she has. She wishes that he had never been hurt because he doesn’t deserve it, but she understands his pain. She understands it and holds him closer because there are no words to sooth his fears.

Regina clears her throat and they break apart. The manager leads him to the middle of the room with Robin and Will who all say a little piece about the album and truly kick off the party. Emma finds him again drinks in hand. David and Mary Margaret find them as well and the group has a fun time, despite when Regina has to take one of them to meet some important person or another.

Of course the band plays Since We’re Alone, their single that has been doing ridiculously well over the last couple of weeks. Killian doesn’t take his eyes off of Emma the entire song and dear god she may be falling in love with him. Her heart skips a beat at this thought. Being in this relationship was almost as easy as breathing. It shouldn’t be this easy right? Emma just smiles and grabs a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. She knocks it back easily, wishing for something a little harsher, stronger. Last time she fell in love it was a disaster that almost ruined her. She pushes that thought away, knowing Killian would never hurt her like Neal had.

Regina pulls Killian into some conversation or another he desperately does not want to be in, but he just nods and smiles. Will is tangled up with a cute, petite brunette. Robin has found his way over to Emma.

“I doubt Killian’s had time yet to tell you, but Regina’s private investigator found him,” Robin states casually. Emma’s brow furrows.

“What?” she asks, confused.

“Your son, Regina’s private investigator found him,” Robin says again as if this is good news. Emma’s stomach drops and she wishes the ground would swallow her whole.

“Did they?” she all she can manage to get out. Both Robin and Regina know she has a son. Something she trusted to Killian with the utmost confidence. It is something she doesn’t tell anybody. Who else did Killian tell? Does Will know too?

“Yeah, Regina has everything,” Robin says cheerfully, not picking up on the fact that Emma is devastated by this news.

“Thanks, Robin,” Emma nods before walking away. She feels like the walls of the room are closing in around her. She never trusts a soul besides David and Mary Margaret and look where that got her. How dare he tell someone else that? Why would he do that to her? Anger coursing through her veins. Emma trusted Killian and he wanted behind her back and told others? She scans the room and find Killian looking for her as well. When she reaches him his face falls.

“Love, what’s wrong?” he asks her. Damn him and his stupid ability to read every damn emotion on her face right now.

“We’re done,” she snaps, a bitter taste in her mouth.

“What?” Killian asks confused. He reaches out for her, but she moves out of his grasp.

“I’ll fulfill this damned contract, but whatever else was happening between us is over,” she says lowering her voice.

“Emma, can we please talk about this?” He asks completely blindsided by what she’s saying. He doesn’t know what she’s talking about or why the hell she’s so mad with him.

“No, frankly I’ve heard enough of what you have to say,” she snaps turning away from him. He reaches out and grabs her hand.

“Just like that you decide that we’re done. I don’t get a say?” he asks, confused as what could’ve happened to make her look at him like that. A look so full of anger and hurt. She pulls her hand out of his grasp.

“Not after what you did,” she says before slipping into the crowd. What the hell does she think he’s done? Killian stands there in shock, not knowing why the love of his life is walking away from him.

Emma finds David and Mary Margaret near the front door.

“Can we leave?” she asks tears filling her eyes. David takes one look at his sister and nods. The couple leads her out of the party and it doesn’t take long for them to get a ride home. Once in the car Mary Margaret turns to Emma, who has begun to cry.

“What happened?” she asks tenderly, only having seen Emma cry a couple of times. The presence of tears alarming the couple.

“Did you know Regina hired a private investigator to find my son,” Emma asks David, who curses at this.

“No of course not,” he tells her.

“Does Killian know about…” Mary Margaret asks trailing off and Emma nods.

“He does and then obviously you two know, but that’s it. He must’ve told Regina. I don’t understand,” she says before the sobs rip through her body and cause her to stop talking. Mary Margaret just holds her. The couple makes sure that Emma comes home with them, both of them worried about her.

Once Killian comes to his senses he launches into action. He first seeks out the band and Regina. He finds her at the bar with Robin.

“Have you two seen Emma?” he asks. He needs to find her. He needs to know what the hell actually happened. More importantly he needs to know how to make it right between them. He doesn’t even know what happened.

“I was talking to her a little bit ago, but I thought she went to find Gina,” Robin shrugs. Regina scowls at her husband.

“Why was she coming to talk to me?” she asks, Killian looks between the two, waiting for answer.

“Well I was updating her on the situation with the private investigator,” Robin tells them. Regina’s face falls and Killian gets more confused.

“Private investigator?” Killian asks more confused than ever. Regina grabs both of them by the arm and drags them out of the party and into a hallway.

“You and I will be having a conversation later about what you are allowed to tell other people,” Regina says sharply to her husband, “After the Neal blow up I hired a private investigator to find out more about Emma’s past, so we wouldn’t be blindsided again. He found she had a son.” Regina is waiting for Killian to freak out.

“I knew she did. She told me that,” he turns to Robin, “what exactly did you say to her?”

“Just that the private investigator found her son,” Robin says realizing how badly he has complicate everything. Killian understands why she was so livid with him. Emma thought he had betrayed her.  

“Fuck, I need to find her,” he say before leaving the couple in the hallway. Killian will not lose her to something as stupid as a miscommunication. Killian searches through the crowd and can’t find her anywhere. Giving up he realizes that she must’ve left and went home. Killian’s not even sure how he gets to her place. He doesn’t drive, but there’s a very good chance he stole someone’s uber. He runs out of the car and up to her door. He rings the doorbell and waits. Nothing happens, so then he knocks. He hears nothing from the other side of the door. No movement, not a movie filling the background with meaningless noise, just silence. Perhaps she’s not home yet. Emma might’ve gone somewhere else before coming home. She’ll have to come home at some point. Killian sits on the porch swing. With the seabreeze nearby, the late hour, and the gentle rocking of the swing Killian drifts off to sleep.

In the early hours of the morning David mutes the call and looks to Emma who is giving her brother a confused look.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” David asks her, uncertainty in his voice.

“It doesn’t sound like I have a choice. Zelena is moving up the filming date for Paris,” Emma shrugs.

“It’s technically voluntary. They can only hold you to the date in your contract,” David tells her.

“I’ll go. I don’t want to be the reason we get behind on filming,” she says shaking her head. Also, it will put the most distance between her and Killian, but she doesn’t say that out loud. Although everyone in this room knows her well enough that she doesn’t have to say it.

“Emma will be at the airfield by nine today,” David confirms and Emma tunes out the rest of his conversation. Mary Margaret places a hand on Emma’s shoulder, catching her attention.

“Do you have everything you need? Have you packed at all?” Her friend asks Emma.

“My passport and wallet are at home. I threw a few things into a suitcase,” Emma tells her. David finally off the phone turns to them.

“We’re short on time. Even if there isn’t a lot of traffic it will be a surprise if you get to that airfield on time,” David explains.

“Why don’t I go and get your things then meet you there?” Mary Margaret offers. David nods.

“Okay, I’ll start getting ready,” Emma agrees. Mary Margaret kisses David on the cheek before running out the door.

Arriving at Emma’s house Mary Margaret spots Killian on the porch swing and sighs. She knows that Emma is using work as an excuse to run from Killian. It’s as plain as the nose on her face. Mary Margaret cannot believe Killian would do anything malicious towards Emma. For God’s sake the man is asleep on her friend’s porch waiting for Emma to come home. Bastards don’t fall asleep waiting for you to come home. There is more to the story here, but Emma felt hurt and betrayed. All these emotions are blinding her to the fact that there is more going on here.

Once Mary Margaret shuts the car door Killian jolts awake. When he spots Mary Margaret his face falls. She walks up and pulls out her key.

“I’m surprised the neighbors didn’t call the cops on you,” she tells him. Killian just shrugs.

“Looks like I still have some luck I guess,” he mutters.

“Come in, can’t have you scandalizing the neighbors anymore,” she offers with a smile. Quietly he follows her inside.

“Where’s Emma?” Killian finally asks.

“At my place with David,” she tells him with a look that gives him the distinct impression he’s not to go there looking for her.

“When will she be back?” he asks, itching to talk to her.

“Not for a long time, I’m afraid,” Mary Margaret says sadly, moving into Emma’s room. Killian follows her.

“What happened? Is she alright?” he asks concerned.

“Emma is fine. The director called and moved up their start date for the movie,” she says as she grabs a few outfits she knows Emma likes and wears often. Mary Margaret then looks for the suitcase Emma began to put things in.

“What?” Killian says shocked, stopping in the middle of the room. Mary Margaret let’s him process the information and finds the suitcase in the corner of Emma’s closet.

“She’s leaving for Paris today,” she confirms.

“No, please. I need to talk to her. This whole mess is an misunderstanding. I didn’t play any part in this,” Killian tells her. Mary Margaret holds up a hand stopping him.

“Killian, I believe you, but she has to want to talk to you. Right now she’s not ready to hear you. She wants to believe the worst.” Mary Margaret walks around the room collecting more of Emma’s belongings.

“Why?” He asks her.

“You know why. If I could make her I would,” she says kindly. The last things she grabs are Emma’s passport and wallet. Killian realizes she about to leave.

“Please let me go with you,” he pleads with her. Mary Margaret sighs.

“No,” she says firmly, “I won’t ambush her like that.”

“Then can you please tell her to call me?” he asks.

“I can do that,” she agrees. They both walk out of the house and Mary Margaret locks the door behind them. Killian stands on the porch not sure where to go as he watches Mary Margaret climb into the car and drive off.

Killian pulls his phone out and calls Emma. Not surprisingly it goes to voicemail.

“Emma, I know you’re upset and angry, but we need to talk. I had no idea what Regina was doing. I absolutely never told her about him. I would’ve never done that to you. I certainly would’ve told her that a PI was out of the question. Bloody hell this whole thing is such a mess. Now, you’re getting on a plane and I don’t want to lose you. Please call me back.” He runs his hands through his hair not knowing what else he can do at this point. Killian hopes he hasn’t lost Emma.  

Mary Margaret meets David and Emma at the airfield just in time. Before handing over her things Mary Margaret gives Emma a wary look.

“Honey, can you give us a minute,” Mary Margaret asks David sweetly. Her husband frowns but nods, stepping away from them. Emma frowns at this.

“What is it?” Emma asks annoyed.

“Emma, you should talk to Killian,” Mary Margaret advises her. Emma crosses her arms.

“Why? He doesn’t deserve it,” she says. Emma knew he called her and she simply doesn’t want to talk to him. He hurt her. He betrayed her. He does not get to justify his actions to her.

“I think you know that there is more to the story here. That man loves you and he wouldn’t hurt you. You should hear him out,” Mary Margaret says getting upset with her. Killian can’t love her this was never supposed to happen. This was supposed to be a business deal, but apparently it stopped being that a long time ago.

“You don’t know that and why are you saying all this?” Emma says frustrated beyond belief.

“He was at your house waiting for you. He slept on your porch all night. He begged me to bring him here and he told me what happened. You need to hear it from him,” Mary Margaret says handing over Emma’s suitcase and passport.

“I-” Emma starts and Mary Margaret stops her.

“I’m not saying to do it now or even tomorrow. You have to be ready, but you need to listen to him. Now, you have to get on that plane and kick ass,” Mary Margaret says before pulling Emma into a bone crushing hug. When she lets Emma go David comes over and hugs her as well. After that Emma holds her head high, walks up the steps, and onto the plane.