[mackfts-blog]

.awoladam:

“Mack, stop,” Adam urged his best friend. No matter how embarrassed she felt – and the red tinge on her cheeks visible even in the dim early morning light of her room suggested that it was a lot – Adam needed her to understand that the ordeal hadn’t been her fault.

He’d sat in the back of ambulances, draping blankets around the shoulders of girls who had made the call they needed after similar situations. Some of these girls hadn’t had sisters like Bailey or Dakota and had been forced to go through it themselves, collapsing against Adam and bursting into tears or sometimes shying away from him entirely. Being a first responder meant he’d seen it all, but he never shared those experiences with anyone else, not even Mack. They were private, but always left a bad taste in his mouth seeing as most of the girls all managed to reach the conclusion that it had been their fault. Adam hadn’t had much of a female presence during his upbringing what with two fathers and four brothers, but he’d always known that ‘no’ meant ‘no’ and no amount of alcohol could change that.

“Who spikes a drink?” he reasoned with her.

Instead of labouring his point, he rolled his eyes at her insistence that things wouldn’t get violent. Adam wasn’t particularly known for throwing punches, always jumping in to stop them hitting their mark instead. He’d been bottled in bars way too many times to count, but that was a byproduct of his career.

“Are you saying I’m not tough?” he teased her. “I could’ve speared the bastard and put him on a spit. My Scouts would love that, they’ve been asking about roasting pigs for weeks.”

Snorting at her question about her sisters, Adam had to remind himself that Mack was genuinely concerned. He couldn’t blame her when Bailey and Dakota were always getting themselves into scrapes though.

“When does Bailey ever not get into trouble?” he pointed out, although his laughter was cut off by the brewing argument outside.

Mack seemed to realise what was happening before he did if her whispered curse was anything to go by, but Adam was a little slower on the uptake. It wasn’t until Mack’s bedroom door swung open harshly and clanged against the adjacent wall that he saw who was behind it.

“Aw, here we go,” he rolled his eyes when he spotted the red and angry face of Roy.

As soon as the other man saw just who was in bed with his girlfriend – fully clothed and innocently cuddling like they had been doing for years before his Neanderthal ass came on the scene – his face grew redder and more livid and at once accusations started getting thrown around. Adam received all of them with an indifferent expression, barely flinching when Roy stated that Adam had no right to be climbing into bed with his girlfriend.

“Maaaaaaaaack,” Adam whined petulantly, the long drawn out noise cutting through Roy’s tirade. He turned to his best friend. “He’s trying to be a better caveman than me!”

Naturally that didn’t go down well and Roy was off again, asking what placed Adam in such high esteem that he got to cuddle under the sheets with Mack while he was forcibly kept outside by her sisters.

“You done, Barney Rubble?” Adam asked tiredly, chafing the corner of his eye. “Maybe if you walked into this century and invested in a working phone, you’d have a clue what was going on.”

He couldn’t help but turn to Mack and raise an eyebrow.

“Again, I need to ask: this guy? Really?”

Instead of protesting, Mack merely offered up a small shrug in response to Adam's words. She knew he was right. I mean, who did spike drinks, other than weirdos and perverts? She knew that the sleaze in question was the one that was in the wrong, but that didn't do much to put her mind at ease, or to still the pounding in her head, or the shame that crept through her body. Adam was trying, though, and she appreciated the fact that he was even willing to stay there with her, waiting by her bedside all night and taking care of his best friend. Bar her sisters and Piper, she didn't know of anybody else that would be willing to do the same.

Still too tired and too self pitying to offer up much by way of laughter, Mack scoffed at Adam's words and punched her best friend lightly on the shoulder. Adam was tough, but not in that brutish, could take out a gang of thugs blindfolded sorta way. Adam's job required all kinda of bravery, a bravery of which Adam had always exhibited, even from the day they'd met and he'd saved her life. Not to mention his work with the scouts meant he had skills upon skills upon skills on how to survive in the wilderness, so realistically she knew that if he could take out a rogue bear – not that he'd have had to, or so she hoped – then he could sure as hell take down some weirdo in a night club. The difference was that Adam wasn't some Neanderthal who got a kick out of beating guys up.

“Sure, you're tough. So long as you don't mess up your hair,” she teased. She and Adam had always taken pride in the way that they looked, and never shied away from admiring themselves. They never thought there was any shame in loving themselves, and Mack knew better than anybody that they had the greatest asses that New York had ever seen. Still, Adam's job as an EMT, and his work with the scouts, more often than not ended with him being caked in blood, or dirt, or something a little unsavoury, so she knew her jibes were mostly misplaced.

Mack wasn't given the opportunity to roll her eyes or laugh at Adam's comment. While in other circumstances she might have made some sort of quip about how Bailey and trouble seemed to go hand-in-hand, she found herself far too distracted by the drama that was unfolding on the other side of her bedroom door.

When Roy burst in, his voice reaching a volume that Mack was almost certain might tear a hole through her skull, Mack merely stared on in horror as she watched the scene unfold between her boyfriend and best friend. Adam had never had any qualms about making it clear that he did not like Roy, no matter how often Mack pleaded with him to give the other man a chance. In recent months, though, where their relationship had started wearing thinner and Roy had seemed far less occupied with his girlfriend than he should be, she'd noticed his disdain for Adam growing stronger and stronger with each passing day.

As the two bickered back and forth, Mack pulled her hand from Adam's and ran it wearily across her face, before bringing both hands up to massage her temples. Between the alcohol and the spiking, they really weren't doing a lot to help with her hangover.

“Roy, babe, please,” she groaned. Upon hearing his cries about how Adam shouldn't be tucked up in bed with her, and that it was his job to take care of her, Mack could only stare back and forth between the two, as though they were a pair of toddlers. She and Adam had always been close, and cuddling in bed was like second nature to the two of them, so why Roy consistently felt the need to try and come between her and her best friend she had no idea.

Still, though, Adam wasn't really helping matters with his childish retorts.

“Adam,” was all she said, her tone firm as she shot him a glare. Smacking him lightly on the arm, Mack turned her gaze back to Roy, who was now looking at Adam was though he might pull him from the bed himself and kick him. She knew he wouldn't, of course. Not because he wasn't mad – because oh boy was he mad – but because she was pretty sure he knew that any attempts at a fight would be lost before he'd even begun.

Instead, Roy stood in the doorway, blocking Dakota and Bailey's view of the argument as he crossed his arms and stood his ground. He didn't say a word this time, glowering with every comment that spilled from Adam's lips, and Mack found herself grimacing as she failed to navigate the situation. She had been just about to put her boyfriend at ease, and tell him that there was nothing to worry about between her and Adam, when the latter's comment finally reached her ears.

Creasing her forehead and vaguely waving a hand at Adam to silence him, she ignored his question as she kept her eyes trained on Roy.

“Baby, did they try and call you last night? Do you even know what happened?” she questioned, her voice small as her shoulders dropped. Sinking lower onto the bed, Mack waited for his response, hoping he'd at least have some sort of good explanation as to why he'd failed to come to her aid. There was too much she didn't remember from the night before, but she had surprised even herself at having never questioned why it was Adam by her side, and not Roy.

Staring back at her, flustered as ever, Roy lunged forward and rested himself on the end of her bed, staring at her as though he had a thousand apologies – and no doubt excuses – brewing on the tip of his tongue.

“Boo bear, c'mon. You know if I had any idea what had happened I'd have been there,” he told her, his tone gentle, though the effects of it were lost when he shot Adam another glare. “I had a big poker game, 'Kenzie. I had my phone off all night.”

Mack hated when he called her that, and she found herself staring back at him, mouth agape, as she failed to come up with an appropriate response. He'd ignored their SOS calls for a poker match?

[mackfts-blog]

.awoladam:

Adam grinned smugly when Mack thrust a middle finger in his general direction. While his best friend still seemed miserable, she was still feeling feisty enough to respond to his teasing, and that was a good sign.

Crawling into bed beside Mack may have seemed like a forward move to any onlooker, but for the two of them, it was normal. Adam had been there to comfort Mack through any situation where she just needed a friend. He remembered how much she’d cried when her father had passed away and how Adam hadn’t been sure if she would want him there to hug her or not. But they’d spent hour after hour hiding under the duvet cover before Adam’s stomach had growled hungrily and he’d insisted that they order pizza for his sake.

Given the early hour and Mack’s current fragile state, pizza was out of the question, but Adam decided that cuddles were certainly still in order.

“I’m the snuggliest,” he boasted in confirmation, wriggling around as he attempted to get comfortable before he remembered that the last thing Mack needed was to be jostled right now. Forcing himself to settle down, he lay an arm out for her to lie on so he could then wrap it around her shoulders and pull her in.

He spotted the way Mack’s eyes darted up to catch his and quirked an eyebrow. After knowing Mack for as long as he had and then spending what seemed to be every waking moment in her company, whether he was trailing after her at the record store, dragging her on hikes or even just initiating tickle fights on top of their shared sofa, he had grown accustomed to her tells and figured that she needed to say something. After giving her shoulder an encouraging squeeze with his hand, a clear ‘go ahead’ sign, he waited for her to speak.

With her ear pressed against his chest, Adam briefly wondered if Mack would be able to hear the way his heart sank in his chest at her words. Frowning, he gently shook his head.

“No, no,” he insisted, attempting to cut her off. The last thing that Mack should be doing in all of this was blame herself and he pulled back from their hug so he was able to duck his head and catch her eye.

“Mack, listen,” he instructed her, using the voice he usually reserved for particularly difficult and usually drunk patients who wouldn’t sit still long enough for Adam to treat them. “You didn’t fuck up. You didn’t know you’d been spiked, so how’s it your fault? It was that asshole, and if I got my hands on him then he’d be paying for it.”

His voice was solemn as he spoke as, despite not being a violent person, Adam meant every word he said. He’d been ready to throw punches last night as soon as he’d heard what had happened to Mack, even though, as far as he knew, Bailey and Dakota had got in there first.

Speaking of Bailey, his ears picked up on the unmistakable sound of Mack’s sister’s high pitched voice as she argued with someone on the other side of the bedroom door. He doubted it was Dakota and frowned, wondering who else was in their apartment and why Bailey was so offended by their presence.

“What’s going on out there?” he asked.

When Adam pulled away ever so slightly, Mack whined loudly, before tugging on the fabric of his shirt to pull him back. When, instead, he tried to meet her eye, she stared back, her forehead creased as she frowned back at her best friend. He was being firm with her, and she knew that this far more serious side to Adam was reserved only for the kids he taught, his patients, and anything that he deemed a high level of importance.

Sniffing, Mack chewed down on her lip as she bit back a sob that was threatening to tear through her throat. While she hadn't ever been one of those people that acted like crying was some sort of cardinal sin, she also didn't like to think of herself as the kind of person that got all weepy for no apparent reason, and she hated the thought of letting her guard down with Adam. He was the one person that she could let her guard down with, but she wanted to try and remain strong, and not let the whole experience get the better of her.

“I know, I know,” she muttered, keeping her voice low so that Adam wouldn't hear the way her voice cracked as she spoke. “I just... I feel so stupid. Who the hell takes a drink off a total stranger in a club? I'm not saying, like, that I deserved it or anything, but...”

She trailed off, unsure how she had ever intended on finishing that sentence. All she knew was that she was going to continue beating herself up about the whole thing. The fact that she'd been idiot enough to let a guy like that gain such easy control to her upset her beyond belief, but what terrified her all the more was the idea that it could have just as easily been Bailey, or Dakota, or anyone else.

Upon hearing Adam's threat, Mack offered her friend a weak smile before pulling his hand towards her and clasping it into her own. She knew he wasn't a violent person, and that he'd never wrongfully attack or harm another person – it sorta went against his job description, and all – but she appreciated the thought that Adam was all too ready to take out some creep for laying a hand on her.

“If you got your hands on him, you'd land his ass in jail, and nothing else,” she told him firmly.

While she did appreciate the sentiment, she hated nothing more than to think of Adam landing himself in trouble on account of her. Which brought her to the thought of Dakota and Bailey, who she had no doubt probably got a few swings in here and there. If she knew her sisters, she knew they wouldn't stand back and let anybody take advantage of her – or one another. While the Nelson sisters were much like most siblings in that they fought and bickered over varying matters, they always had each other's back, no matter the situation, and Mack would fight her way through hell and back for both of those girls.

“Bails and 'Kota, they didn't get themselves into too much trouble, did they?” she questioned. She figured it redundant to ask if they'd gotten into any trouble, knowing they'd never let a situation like that slide in a million years.

The second she raised the subject of her sisters, however, she heard a ruckus outside of her bedroom, the sound of Bailey's voice meeting her ears. While it wasn't out of character for Bailey to be loud, or to be caught causing a scene, Mack was sure even her baby sister had a little more tact as to start drama with Dakota the morning after Mack had been spiked. Whatever was going on outside, she figured it had to be at least a little bit serious.

“I have... no clue...” she muttered, a useless answer in hindsight.

As volumes rose higher, and Bailey's voice grew all the more closer to her bedroom door, Mack's ears finally became attuned to the other voice that seemed to be yelling right back at Bailey, just in time for her bedroom door to burst wide open.

“Oh shit,” she whispered, shooting a glance at Adam.

Still keeping a tight hold on Adam's hand, Mack bolted upright at the noise, the bedsheet slipping off to reveal her and Adam as she stared back at the figures in the doorway. While Bailey stared on, wide-eyed, flushed, and glaring at Roy as though he were Satan himself, Dakota stood behind them, offering a weak, apologetic smile to her sister and Adam.

“Roy? What're you, uh... what's going on?”

[mackfts-blog]

TEXT: KAI

Mack: come mr dj song pon de replay, come mr dj won't you turn the music up 🤘

Mack: birthday kisses from me, riri, and roy xxxx

[mackfts-blog]

.dakotaduh:

byebailey :

Bailey scrunched up her nose in disapproval when Dakota ignored her suggestion. Mack and Lana had both told her not to poke and prod Dakota about boys, but Bailey just wanted to see her sister happy again, and she had never seen her as happy as she used to be with Camden. But Camden wasn’t here anymore and in Bailey’s alcohol-addled opinion, the only thing that could truly bring that carefree grin back to her sister’s face was another man.

“Kotaaaa,” she whined, a pout on her face. She twirled a lock of her sister’s brown hair around her finger and the pout became more prominent.

“You have such pretty hair, it isn’t fair,” she huffed, looking at her own blonde tresses that resembled hay more than hair. As she pinched it between her fingers, she gagged at the feeling of some unidentifiable sticky liquid in it, suddenly desperate for a shower.

“Why did you let Mack go off on her own?” she asked when she couldn’t find her older sister. She wasn’t annoyed at Dakota for any sort of reasons related to safety or Mack’s wellbeing in a skeevy club, but for entirely selfish reasons. Bailey was made up of sugar and spice and, according to those who knew her, a selfish streak that rivalled Veruca Salt’s. She liked being spoiled and she loved getting her own way, and Mack wandering off on her own with cell phone access wasn’t even close to Bailey’s own way.

“Ugh, she’s probably away texting Roy and asking him to come pick her up. And I hate Roy,” she stated firmly. A long, frustrated groan sounded from her as she threw what could only be described as a lowkey temper tantrum, bouncing on the balls of her feet and scowling at Dakota who looked as unfazed as ever.

A familiar sight across the dance floor stopped Bailey’s incessant movements though and the frown on her face was swiftly wiped away by a bright smile.

“Never mind, found her!” she cheered, waving wildly at Mack who looked otherwise preoccupied.

“And she’s with a dude. That isn’t Roy! I mean, he’s no Adam but we can’t afford to be picky right now,” she giggled, grabbing Dakota’s arm and shaking it excitedly as she watched the man snake an arm around their sister’s waist. If they started making out right there, Bailey would automatically make a pact to never tell Roy. And she was sure that even Dakota, queen of morals as she was, would promise so as well. But then Bailey caught the look on Mack’s face and her smile faded.

“Does… does Mack look okay to you?” she asked, her lips by Dakota’s ear so her sister would be sure to hear her and realise she was sounding serious for once.

Dakota resisted the urge to lift the corners of her mouth into a smile at Bailey’s childhood nickname for her. ‘Dakota’ wasn’t a name easily fashioned into a nickname, but with typical Bailey flair, that hadn’t stopped her from trying. Bailey had settled on ‘Kota’ at a very young age, and for better or for worse, it had stuck. Even in Bailey’s plaintive, alcohol infused state, the nickname seemed to work. Dakota’s shoulders dropped from their previously tense position, even as she lovingly batted Bailey’s hand away.

“Not right now I don’t.” she insisted, remembering the damp feeling on her fingers only moments prior to this. Bailey had already moved on, teasing her fingers through her own locks. 

“Yours is blonde. You look like Mack.” she pointed out, fighting to keep the jealousy out of her voice. Although the sisters all shared similar features, it was the blonde hair that immediately connected her sisters in people’s minds. Dakota quietly longed to be as pretty as her older sister, to have people glance at her and immediately know she belonged to Bailey and Mack. Still, she wasn’t sure what she’d do with that beauty if she had it. It would be wasted up a climbing wall in their local gym. 

“Because I was bored.” she repeated, incredulously. She raised her eyebrows at her younger sister, as though perplexed she didn’t quite get it the first time. The club was too hot, too packed, and Dakota had nearly killed herself at least three times attempting to dance in borrowed heels. “She knew I was coming back. It’s not like she’ll have moved.”

Dakota, who had never been much of a drinker, was far less intoxicated than either of her sisters. She was buzzed, but not enough for it to take the edge of the bitter, annoyed sense that she didn’t particularly want to be here. Certainly not drunk enough to be having fun. Dakota pressed a finger to her temple, trying her hardest not to glare at her sister as she continually went on about how Dakota shouldn’t have left Mack alone. 

“We all hate Roy.” she reminded Bailey pointedly. If he turned up now to tear their sister away from them, all hell would break loose in a Bailey style fashion. 

Dakota kept close to Bailey, pressing herself against the other woman as they pushed through the crowd in search of Mack. Occasionally, her fingers would reach out to lock around her arm to keep her close, and so Dakota could keep her own balance. 

“Where?!” Dakota questioned, narrowing her eyes. Dakota peered out amongst the crowd, but couldn’t see Mack anywhere. Perhaps Bailey had some sort of drunk-girl heat seeking vision that allowed her to find the elder Nelson. 

“A guy? Where?” Dakota said, her voice getting sharper and more pointed as she failed to locate her sister. Finally, her gaze settled on her sister, only for her face to drop a little. Mack… really didn’t look good. 

The guy seemed to be less with her sister than holding her up, and Dakota noted the way her head continually lolled, her blonde hair falling into her face as though she was struggling to keep upright. Panic sparked in the brunette’s chest immediately, which quickly translated into anger. 

She was numb until she heard the urgent, somber tones of Bailey’s voice in her ear. Gone was the giddy, high-pitched drunkenness, quickly replaced with concern for her sister.

“No, she doesn’t.” Dakota replied, and without taking her eyes off of Mack, immediately began to push through the crowd. She only glanced back once to make sure Bailey was following, and with arms outstretched, took a quick shove at the man’s chest.

“You can let go now. I’ve got her.” she insisted, curling an arm around Mack’s waist in place of his. He failed to do so, staring at her in shock as the two held onto Mack. Lowering her voice dangerously, Dakota repeated, “You can let go of my sister.”

There was a war raging in Mack's mind as she tried to make sense of the scenario. One half of her brain was screaming, telling her to rip the sleaze's hands from her waste and sock him in the jaw, while the other half of her brain just wanted to sleep. Her legs felt like jelly beneath her as she wobbled on the spot, her heels beginning to feel more like stilts as she stumbled forward, her chest colliding with his.

As the ground seemed to practically wobble beneath her, the Earth shaking all around, Mack found her hand involuntarily reaching out in an attempt to grip onto something, anything, to steady herself. Unfortunately, that something appeared to be the strange man's arm, and she frantically pulled it away, her knees buckling under her own weight as she slipped backwards. Her urgency, coupled with the stark effects of whatever she'd been spiked with, only encouraged the man tighten his grip on her, his fingers brushing the bare skin on her back as he pulled her closer. She felt dizzy, as though she could throw up any moment now, and she absent-mindedly found herself wishing she could just empty the contents of her stomach all over the sleaze and scare him off.

No such luck, of course.

“Easy, now,” his voice echoed through her head. The loud, blaring music of the club, that had seemed to pound through her skull moments before, felt distant now, even the man's voice sounding muffled. “I got you, baby. You can hold on tighter, if you like.”

Even in her current state, with every sound shattered in her haze, she felt shivers running down her spine as his words reached her. She wanted to yell, to tell him what a grade A dirtbag he was, and to kick him in the sack for extra measure, but to her own dismay she couldn't. She didn't just feel entirely useless, but she was. Every inch of her body felt weak, he limbs forgetting how to function as she struggled to put one foot in front of the other. She could barely find her voice to cry for help, so there was no way she'd be able to swing a punch.

Glancing up, her vision blurred as the scene before her seemed to spin, and a silent sob spilled from her lips. Where were Bailey and Dakota, and why wasn't anybody helping? Surely nobody thought that she was with this guy? She couldn't even stand!

Before she could ponder the whereabouts of her sisters, and panic over what might happen if he managed to get her outside, a flurry of movement flashed before Mack's peripheral vision. Her head whirled around as she tried to make sense of it, before feeling a sudden force thrust itself against the man's chest, and she staggered as his grip tightened on her arm and pulled her along with him.

A familiar voice sounded nearby, the comforting tone of Dakota ringing through Mack's ears, and she found herself blinking rapidly, hopelessly trying to clear her vision so as to get a better look at her sister. Suddenly, piecing it all together, she realised that Dakota must have pushed him, in her own attempt to get him to let go of Mack, and mack breathed out a soft sigh, words failing her as she tried to call on her sister – sisters? Her vision was still hazy, and she saw no sign of Bailey if she was there – for further help.

When his grip on her failed to loosen, the man seemingly undeterred by Dakota's red-hot fury as he puffed his chest out proudly, Mack mustered up enough strength to lift her foot, driving her thin heel into his shoe.

The man let out a loud yelp, his hold on Mack slipping just enough for her to stumble backwards, her body colliding at full force with–

Bailey!

Thank God.

The soft squeak that escaped her baby sister's throat wasn't enough for Mack to feel guilty, though she was certain that in the morning she'd feel some remorse – if she even remembered the events of the night – as she thought of the force with which she'd crashed into her smaller sister. For now, however, she could only clutch at Bailey's arm, her hand slipping down and fumbling to pull her hand into her own. All she wanted right now was some semblance of comfort, or safety, and while her balance seemed to be slipping with every passing second, she needed nothing more right now than to know that she had her sister by her side.

“Call Roy,” she muttered, her words coming out slurred and fragmented.

She couldn't seem to get her eyes to focus on Bailey or Dakota – the latter of the two still squaring up to the asshole – and as she stumbled once more, she felt the heel beneath her foot snap and she staggered on the spot once more, veering back in the direction of the piece of shit who'd spiked her.

[mackfts-blog]

.gdipiper:

My handsome roomie? …Harvey? As much as he has a fabulous backside, I don’t think I’m his type. I’d totally fight Roy for your love but I won’t, because I would win and I need to be respectful. I think we should have our own poker party with Adorable Felix.

Unrealistic that you’re not anyone’s type, but you’re right about the fabulous ass. I love a good ass, Pipes. Well, you’d know. Speaking of roomies. The Princessy one, what’s her name? Y’know, looks like something out of Vogue? Oh that’s true, you would win. Last time Roy got into a fight he ended up sobbing in A&E. And by ‘got into a fight’, I mean a guy hit on me, Roy told him to stop, and the other guy landed him on his ass. Ever seen that scar just above his eyebrow? Yeah. Ooh, can we? I suck at poker, but I would also really really love that. Means I get to hang out with the two hottest folks in Messina.

(PS; Obviously bar Adam, if you’re reading this, ya goof.)

[mackfts-blog]

.gdipiper:

We so can. Screw the snobs. I’d swap lobster for pizza anyday. Ew, your super hot ex-girlfriend doesn’t want to know about your current boyfriend’s sleeping situation. He’s supposed to be my arch enemy if I was ambitious enough for arch enemies. And Felix is alla that, except that he’s the cutesy big one. So tol.

Why are you so perfect, Pipes? When’s that hot roomie of yours gonna snap you up? Or, no. Cancel that, all men are terrible. When is any gorgeous girl gonna prove to me that she’s worthy of you? Right, sorry, super hot ex-girlfriend. No more of that. I like the idea of you guys being arch enemies, fighting for my love, though. Is that bad? Does that make me a bad person? Oh, yeah. Sorry, ‘little’ is sort of my prefix for anyone that adorable, regardless of size. It’s not okay to be that precious. He makes me reevaluate my morals. 

[mackfts-blog]

.gdipiper:

Well, can you tell him to give me money so I won’t constantly remind him how much better I was at dating you than he is like, right now? I can’t believe they’re playing poker in suits. I thought everyone played poker with scarves but that’s because Felix is the only other person I know that plays poker. Ugh, suck it Roy, the girls are back.

Oh, honey. I wish he’d give me the money. No such luck, though. I think you and I could totally kick it with cheap bear and pizza though, right? ‘Cause while I’d love my boyfriend to go all out on me for once, I actually sorta hate those snooty restaurants we always end up in. Oh, they do everything in suits, bub. If it weren’t for the fact that I knew otherwise, I’d assume he slept in the damn thing. Felix, is he the cutesy little one with the face of an angel? Has that smile that makes you wanna quit your job and dedicate your life to finding the cure for cancer or something? Suck it Roy, indeed.

[mackfts-blog]

.gdipiper:

Sorry, a thousand? How does he still have a home? You know I’d wine and dine you and treat you like the lady you are on my shitty income. 

Roy makes big bucks. Obscene, actually. Gross figures that I do not even want to think about, boo. Hence the poker night out with his obnoxious, prada-suit-wearing ‘lads’, or whatever. Ugh, that’s it. Roy’s out the door, Nelson and Thomas are back in action.

[mackfts-blog]

.gdipiper:

I’ll say. Definitely hotter than the nacho dip Roy’s probably guzzling on at this stupid poker party.

Ugh. Y’know, he’s not even good at poker. Last time he blew a thousand bucks, and he was only gone an hour. That’s good money that could be spent on me. Like, wining and dining me, and shit. You’d wine and dine me, wouldn’t ya bub?

[mackfts-blog]

.gdipiper:

They’re there to make us look superior. 

They do a pretty bang up job of it, too. We’re looking kinda hot, huh? 

[mackfts-blog]

.gdipiper:

Dump him.

Considering it. Okay, no, kidding. But, ugh. Men. What’s the point of them, again?

[mackfts-blog]

What’s a girl gotta do for a little love around here? Roy, I know you don’t read my blog, but on the off chance that you do, cancelling on a night in with your hot girlfriend for another poker night with your boys? Bad call, boo.

[dickganseywrites-blog]

mack: 5, 20, 27, 31, 63, 65

What is your relationship status?

I have a boyfriend, his name is Roy, and he’s mega hot.

Where was the last place you snogged someone?

Uh, my bed?

Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

Shit, I dunno. Pipes, you out there? Did I break your heart, boo? Nah, I don’t think so… I’ve had mostly amicable break ups, I guess? You never really know about this stuff I guess, though.

Does somebody love you?

Well, I hope Roy loves me, so duh. But yeah, I mean. Kota and Bails, right? My mom, too. And Adam, duh. That asshole had better love me, ‘cause he’s sorta stuck with me. I dunno, I kinda hope someone loves me, y’know?

Would you change your name?

If I ever got married, sure.

Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

Well, Adam’s my bestie for lifey, so I don’t have to worry about that. But if? God, I dunno. It’s Adam. Adam and I- he doesn’t see me like that.

[rocktheholygrail]

When you think you are alone vs getting caught in the act

[mackfts-blog]

.awoladam:

Adam watched Mack carefully, searching for any immediate signs of discomfort. The confusion was to be expected but he was anxious about her being too disorientated, a clear sign that the effects of the drugs hadn’t worn off as quickly as he wanted them to. He recalled the feverish states he’d sometimes been in after his bug repellent hadn’t done its job and he’d been bitten by something nasty on one of his treks. Luckily, Mack wasn’t exhibiting any symptoms of a nightmare like that, her eyes steadily becoming more focused as she groped around her sheets.

The palpable relief on her face when she realised there was no one beside her and that the bed she was in was her own, made Adam’s heart clench painfully. It wasn’t a surprise that that was the first thing she had thought to check, but he bit back his sympathy. Mack was alright now, and she didn’t need him of all people to be patronising towards her.

When her gaze shifted back to him, he couldn’t help but wince at the whine she let out. He hadn’t expected her to bounce right back after something like that, but it still sucked to hear his best friend in pain. It must feel like there was a seriously competitive dodgeball game taking place inside her skull.

“I know, I know,” he murmured as soothingly as possible. As loud and obnoxious as Adam could be at times, he was a paramedic, trained to, first and foremost, keep his patients calm in any kind of stressful situation. That skill helped with his Scouts as well, as there was always one kid who fell and skinned their knee or sat in a patch of poison ivy.

“C’mon, drink,” he urged her again, watching as she lifted the glass to her lips. As she spilled droplets onto her shirt, Adam didn’t even bother to hold back a snicker.

“You mess,” he teased her. If anyone else had been in Mack’s situation, Adam’s deliberate lack of tact would just be insulting and unnecessary, but Adam was fighting to restore normality to the situation. Mack didn’t need to be weighed down with memories from the night before, not until she was ready to talk about it anyway. In the meantime, it was Adam’s job to keep her spirits high, and slipping into their usual back and forth camaraderie was a surefire way to do that – or at least he had thought.

“Adam, definite good,” he agreed, before correcting her. “Adam, definite best. Adam talk like caveman.”

His smile faded when he took in the way she refused to look at him, pushing her face into the duvet instead. The cover muffled her words but he still managed to catch them and he reached out a hand to gently pat her thigh.

“It’s becoming a habit, me saving you,” he pointed out, referring to their first ever meeting which was probably one of the most unconventional beginnings any friendship could have. What with Mack having just been literally stabbed and all. Wincing as he thought about it, Adam’s protective instincts kicked in and he pushed himself to his feet.

“Come on, budge over. I want a cuddle,” he instructed her, lifting the duvet to let her know he was crawling in beside her.

While the undeniable pounding in her skull, and the aches and pains that drilled through her body, were an unwelcome addition to an already grim morning, the presence of Adam at her bedside, teasing her as he always did, was something Mack could never grow tired of. Smirking into the glass, more water spilling down her tee, she lazily shoved her hand out towards him and flipped him the bird.

Now cosily nestled back onto her bed, she listened intently as Adam retorted in his usual, upbeat manner, as he mocked her for her clipped English. Had it been anyone else teasing her after what she'd been through, she might have found offence in their words. She knew that if Roy were the one beside her – where was he, anyway? – and had been making jokes at her expense, she'd have sentenced him to at least a month without sex, and probably wouldn't have spoken to him for a solid week. Adam was different, though. Different even to Bailey and Dakota, who were two of the most important people in her life. Adam was her best friend, her platonic soulmate, and he understood her in ways others couldn't. Sometimes she thought he knew her better than even she did, and while she didn't always like resorting to that soppy, gooey crap with Adam – much preferring their light-hearted rapport as they teased each other relentlessly – she didn't know where she'd be if she didn't have him at her side.

“Yeah, yeah. Adam definite best,” she repeated, rolling her eyes and tugging her sheets closer in an attempt to hide the strained smile that was forcing its way onto her face.

With her bedsheets well and truly wrapped over her head, her face buried into the fabric, she squeezed her eyes shut as another pang shot through her stomach. She knew that it was normal to be feeling this rough the morning after what she'd been through, but the fact that she didn't know exactly what that consisted of terrified her beyond belief. She knew that she was alright, safe and sound with Adam so close by, but she could barely recall the events of the night, and that alone hurt far more than any headache ever could.

Any other day of the week, she might have laughed at Adam's jibe about always saving her. It was true that he was always there, always the first to her side at any sign of trouble. Even their first meeting had been ridden with adventure, Adam having quite literally saved her from bleeding to death. She remembered the look of alarm on her mother's face when she had mentioned Adam the first time, her mother baffled that she'd become such fast friends with her EMT, but her dad had merely laughed and insisted on meeting him. When he'd finally gotten to shake Adam's hand, he'd told him that there was no finer man to him in the world than one who could keep his little girl safe. Even when she and Adam were in a fight, Mack always knew to remember those words. She always knew that, no matter what the two of them went through, they were destined to stay best friends until the day one of them was selfish enough to kick it.

“Hm?” she moaned, huffing slightly as she felt the bed shift beside her. Groaning, she flailed her hands around like a petulant child, frantically trying to grasp on the duvet that Adam had just yanked away. It didn't last long, however, and she breathed a sigh of relief as the comforter landed softly back on top of her, only now with the welcome addition of Adam at her side.

Uncurling her knees from her chest, she rolled over and pushed herself into Adam's side, waiting patiently for him to drape his arm around her. In the meantime, she buried her face in his chest and wrapped her own arm around his torso, cuddling herself close to him until their bodies fit perfectly beside each other.

“You're snuggly. And warm,” she told him. With her ear placed down on his chest, she could practically hear his heartbeat, and allowed her own breathing to slow, measuring her breaths against the sound of Adam's heart.

Content in his arms, and with the duvet wrapped snugly around the two of them, she chanced a quick glance back up at her best friend. If there was anyone in the world she could confide in, she knew it was Adam. It would always be Adam.

“I really fucked up, Ad... I was so scared,” she muttered, her voice shaky. There were a lot of holes in her memory, but she recalled nothing so clearly as she did the fear that had surged through her.

[awoladam-blog]

Getting the phone call from Dakota and Bailey had terrified Adam. He hadn’t been Adam, the calm and collected paramedic who was well versed in situations like this, instead he’d been Adam the frantic best friend who gripped the steering wheel of his car as he weaved in and out of Saturday night city traffic in a desperate attempt to get to his girls.

Carrying Mack had been no real physical feat, seeing as his best friend was as light as a feather and in no position to argue. But as soon as her head had lolled against his shoulder and she struggled to open her eyes, it was like a punch to Adam’s gut. He’d gently laid her down in the backseat with her head in Dakota’s lap as Bailey clambered into the front beside him and dialled and redialled Roy’s number over and over again. Even though the phone was pressed firmly against Bailey’s ear, Adam could still hear Roy’s ridiculously unfunny voicemail message from the driver’s seat. When it sounded for what must have been the thirtieth time, he’d grabbed the phone from Bailey’s hand and tossed it out his open window.

“That’s my cell phone!” Bailey whined, but she’d known to be silent when Adam glared at her. It was evident that Roy wasn’t going to pick up and Adam wasn’t going to let Bailey waste any more time trying to get a hold of him. Perhaps his methods had been insane and more than a little unorthodox and he definitely owed Bailey a new phone, but he hadn’t exactly been in the right frame of mind and no one could blame him. Someone had drugged his best friend and even though, after a quick once over and the application of his own medical knowledge, he knew she would be just fine after a good night’s sleep in her own bed, it didn’t mean he could just instantly calm down.

After carrying Mack inside and encouraging Bailey and Dakota to share his bed when it became clear that they weren’t moving from the apartment, Adam tucked Mack safely under the covers in the dark of her own room then dozed off in the chair by her bed when he decided that she was in no immediate danger.

Naturally, his sleep was broken and he picked himself up from the chair, rubbing away the crick in his neck and making sure that Mack’s breathing was still regular and frequent. Every so often, he’d check her phone, anger curling in his stomach when he saw that, once more, Roy had made no efforts to contact her.

Sighing, he dropped back into the chair and let his eyes flutter shut. Just as the sun was rising outside, casting its glow over early morning Manhattan, Adam heard Mack stir and his eyes flew open. He saw her looking confused, probably trying to piece together the events from the night before and sat up, giving her a smile.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he greeted her. He pointed to the glass of water he’d left on her bedside table. “Drink that. Then tell me how bad your headache is. Oh, and let me know if you still remember my name.”

[mackfts-blog]

Mack had been hungover more times in her life than she could count – hell, more times than she could even remember – and between nights out with her sisters, date nights with Piper or Roy, and even nights in with Adam, she'd never in all her life felt like this. Her throat felt dry as anything, and there was a sharp pain piercing its way through her skull, all the way down through every crevice in her body, and finally reaching her stomach which felt fit to explode. In short, she felt like crap.

Of course, even first thing in the morning – was it even morning? – she could recall the hideous events of the night before. What had meant to be a fun night out with her two favourite girls had, instead, turned into a living nightmare. After Bailey had found herself some cute guy to make out with, and Dakota had grown tired of the incessant pounding of a bassline and drunk white girls twerking beside her, Mack had been left to her own devices. Usually that wasn't too much of an issue. Mack actually enjoyed her own company, and more often than not found herself entirely baffled to meet people that didn't enjoy being around her, but last night she'd just wanted an easy night, and had felt a little tiresome. Of course, her own lack of self-awareness and just plain stupidity was exactly what had led to the most terrifying hour of her life.

Back in the present, her eyes still squeezed tight shut, she forced herself to take a peek into the real world, preparing herself to be blinded by the inevitable sunlight that would be streaming into her bedroom. Instead, however, her eyes were met with nothing but a blank white sheet. Finally coming to her senses and wriggling around on the mattress beneath her, finally coming to grips with her fingers and toes, she realised that her bed sheet was covering her face and, with a soft groan, she pulled it away from her face. What she hadn't been expecting was that her room was only barely lit, a soft, orange glow flitting through her blinds. A welcome relief by all accounts.

Squinting out from beneath her covers, she spotted a glass of water on her bedside table and frowned. She had no idea how that had gotten there. In fact, the more she thought about it, she had no idea how she had gotten there. Her heart began pounding rapidly in her chest as she started to assume the worst, her eyes still partially shut from mere exhaustion. Taking a deep breath, she decided that the only thing to do was to find out just where she was, and slowly she rolled over in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the other side of her bed. Relief surged through her instantly when she realised that, not only was the bed empty, but it was her bed.

Squeezing her eyes tight shut once more and allowing her pulse a moment to slow down, she finally looked up once more, which is when she spotted Adam. Scrunching up her nose in confusion, she stared back at her best friend.. All tousled hair and handsome smiles, the bestie looked a hundred times better than she felt. She had no clue what he was doing sitting at the side of her bed, and while every inch of her body ached from the night before, she wouldn't have wanted to wake and see any other face after what she'd been through.

“Adam?” she whined, though the sound came out more of a croak, her throat burning from the sheer effort it required to speak. Lifting her head ever so slightly, and glancing back at the glass of water he'd gestured to, she nodded slowly. The movement sent a shock of pain through her head and she groaned, jutting her bottom lip out into a miserable pout. “Ugh. It hurts. I don't wike it, Ad.”

Rolling over and fumbling for the glass, she took a few sips of water, droplets spilling down her t-shirt in the process. She didn't care, though, the soft relief of fresh water calming the agony searing through her throat. Ugh. Thank God for water, and thank God for Adam.

“Water, good. Headache, bad. Adam? Yep, I remember. Definite good,” she assured him, setting the glass aside and flopping her head back down onto the pillow.

Staring up at the ceiling above her, she drew her legs in close to her chest and curled herself into a ball, not daring to look back at Adam this time. She was terrified to ask just what he'd witnessed, but she knew she'd have to say something.

“Thank you,” she muttered, her voice muffled as she buried her face in her duvet. “For, y'know, saving me and shit.”

[confessmessina-blog]

adam seems protective of dakota. trying to befriend mack to get in with her sister?

(via confessmessina)

Don’t be fucking weird. That’s not... Just. No.