#I love travel I love being solo and stopping at truck stops
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When I turn 21 I’m getting my cdl license and spending all my time driving a big truck <3
#been thinking about it for years#I would be perfect for driving a big truck#I have great depth perception with cars#I love driving especially alone#I love travel I love being solo and stopping at truck stops#I could be ur butch trucker mutual plz#you can get ur cdl at 18 in Florida but you can only drive in Florida and that’s kinda lameeeee#but I’ll think about it#you have to be 21 to drive across the us
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That's All She Wrote - Chapter 28
Chapter Index
Find me on wattpad + ao3!
Chapter 28: Five Minutes to Midnight ~ 25k
hi! this chapter is a collection of short stories - time skips are denoted by "~" and story changes are denoted by "***" :) tw: mentions of underage drinking
The day after Christmas, the largest snowstorm the Midwest had seen in 30 years subsided, and Big Time Rush, their assistant, and family members were able to get their flights rescheduled so they could spend some time back home before the new year.
Though Roxy and Declan had to part with the boys, Katie, and Mrs. Knight at their flight gate, it didn’t stop the young writer and her boyfriend from a parting goodbye that felt as though it belonged in an old black and white movie. To an onlooker, it might have seemed as though James and Roxy would never see each other ever again when in reality, he was flying to Duluth and she was flying to Green Bay.
Somebody had to collect the ancient Somerset family truck, Dynamo, from Wisconsin, and Roxy certainly wasn’t going to make her father do it alone, especially after his wonderful holiday surprise of meeting her in Los Angeles so they didn’t spend Christmas apart. Despite it adding five more hours to their travel time to Duluth, she was more than happy to spend it with him.
More than once on the way to the airport, Roxy asked James to come with her and her father to Green Bay, but he unfortunately had to decline the invitation. He assured her he’d much rather spend the time with her, but his father was already made aware of their flight plans and was going to meet him and Carlos at the Duluth airport to take them both home.
So, the pair had a dramatic farewell - James being entirely over the top as he quietly double-checked to make sure his girlfriend had taken her air sickness medication and Roxy clinging to him so tightly she probably left a few crescent-shaped indentations on his skin from her nails - and after a deep kiss and lots of groans from their friends, the two groups managed to go their separate ways through the bustling airport.
Admittedly, the songwriter was quite worried as she and her dad passed through the large crowds of people. This was the first time in her life she’d be taking a flight without James and that wasn’t sitting well with her. Even if he hadn’t been there for her on their first two flights, their solo trek back to Los Angeles at the beginning of the summer had been far different.
Of course, Roxy hadn’t realized it at the time, but It would be impossible for her to ever forget the jitters she felt when he held her hand during take-off or the way he checked on her whenever she finally felt well enough to weakly lift her head off his shoulder. Despite what felt like the entire world crumbling around them as they had jettisoned back out to California to work with a criminally insane record producer without their best friends, he had stayed awake the entire red-eye flight to comfort her as if she were the only thing in the world that mattered to him.
While she reflected, she could feel the smile tugging at her lips. I love being the center of his attention.
Just as the pair of them happened upon the correct gate, C10, Roxy heard her father mutter something as he stared out of the large, floor-to-ceiling windows. At the base of the plane they’d be traveling on, the luggage handlers were roughly loading everything into the spacious haul, including two identical black guitar cases.
“What was that?” She said teasingly, nudging him with her elbow as they continued to stare, watching as their items rode up the conveyor belt and into the luggage compartment.
Declan blinked before guiding his daughter to a few open seats in front of the airline help desk. “I said ‘This is why I hate flying.’ On top of the damn ticket check-in an’ obnoxious TSA screenings an’ ridiculously priced coffee,” He gestured to a small cafe in front of them advertising seven-dollar lattes, “They don’t even handle your things with care! He just threw a 300-dollar guitar on the belt like it was nothing!”
While his complaints were entirely valid, Roxy had known him more than long enough to know none of those reasons were truly what was riling him up. As they sat beside each other, she noticed his bouncing leg and tight grip on the armrest beside him. That, mixed with his fast-paced rambling and thickening of his Southern accent, told her one thing. Her father, the bravest man she knew, was anxious and she was pretty sure she could figure out why.
That explains why we’ve never flown anywhere together…
Roxy had figured it was simply because flying was expensive; She and her father hadn’t ever vacationed far from home - Always to locations within acceptable driving distance. But now, watching him fiddle with the zipper on his carry-on, she couldn’t help but chuckle.
Another nudge. “That’s the only thing you hate about flying?”
“I don’t care for the tiny, crowded seats, either.” His voice was barely heard over the hustle and bustle of other airport patrons around them.
“You’re so pessimistic.” She rolled her eyes.
“Well if you want me to say something nice, I suppose I can’t complain about the little peanuts they give you.”
“Those are only good if you can manage to keep them down.”
Finally, eyes widening, Declan caught drift of what Roxy was trying to get at. Apparently, airsickness ran in the family.
“No… Not you too, honey bun…”
Slowly, she nodded. “It would’ve been nice of you to warn me of that before I got on my first plane!”
“I was hoping it had skipped a generation. Sucks all the fun out of goin’ places, doesn’t it?” When he finally turned to face her, watching as she placed her carry-on luggage between her knees, he nervously rubbed one calloused hand over his tattooed forearm. “There’s only been three times in my life I’ve been on a plane. Once, your grammy took me to Disney World when I graduated eighth grade, then when I chased Dana from Austin to Duluth, and then again, yesterday, to meet you here.”
Grammy. Dana. Two people her father rarely mentioned, but both of them in one go? Unheard of.
Roxy swallowed, letting his words sink in. It was hard to figure out what to say whenever he brought up people from his past. Neither of those individuals were people he spoke to anymore, for good reason in her opinion, so the subject was always a bit touchy. For a moment, she wondered if her grandmother would be proud of the man he had become since cutting her off seventeen years ago.
She certainly was proud of him; There wasn’t any man on Earth better than her father.
“We’re tied then.” The girl settled on, ignoring the people Declan had mentioned entirely, reaching out to place one hand over his to help ease some of the tension. “Twice to LA, once to Duluth. They tried to get me on a plane during tour but I flat-out refused and took the bus cross-country instead. But you learn a few things when your job requires such consistent travel…” Using one hand to flip open the black flap of the mini backpack in her lap, Roxy rooted around for the small white capsule containing the Dramamine Mrs. Knight had offered her before their departure. “Take a few of these. It won’t really help, but sometimes it’s enough to trick your body into chilling out for the first half hour-ish. We’ll get through the rest together.”
Shockingly enough, Declan sighed, accepting the small tube from his daughter and swallowing two of the little pills dry. Then, slinging a lazy arm around her shoulder, he pulled her into a small half-hug. “That’s my girl. So grown up, jet-setting across the States with her pop band… You hardly need me to take care of you anymore, huh?”
That was true, she felt, and she admittedly had for quite some time, but she’d never, ever let him know that. It didn’t change their relationship in the slightest; It didn’t affect just how much love she had for him. “Don’t be silly, Dad, I’ll always need you to take care of me.”
~
Both Roxy and Declan had a miserable flight to Wisconsin, running to opposite sides of the plane like clockwork to take care of their sickness. Whenever they returned to their seats, however, they had a brief period of respite where they were able to weakly hold a conversation or talk about something that had been going on in their separate worlds.
Secretly, Roxy wished James were there, but respected the commitment he and his father had made to meet back in Duluth. Through most of her nausea, she couldn’t concentrate on much else, but when her head was clear enough, she sometimes wondered if he thought it was a chore to take care of her when they had flown back to Los Angeles together. The thoughts were unwelcome and hard to neglect, but she chalked it up to her illness as she burrowed into her Dad’s shoulder - when he was around at least - and tried to focus on the rock music flooding through their shared headphones.
Declan’s playlists always brought back welcome memories of the times he’d picked her up from school, the special songs he’d taught her to play on the guitar as she was growing up, every time he’d play music trivia with her while they made dinner together. The hold music had on both of their lives was simultaneously the same and vastly different, shaping who each of them were while together and apart. All the comforting feelings from the familiar guitar chords and rebellious lyrics eased the girl greatly, eventually allowing her to ward off her ailment enough to close her eyes and nod off for a while.
By the time they arrived in Green Bay, the pair were more than ecstatic to get off the plane as quickly as possible, and take one more trip to the bathroom, before gathering their additional luggage and guitars. While the hustle and bustle of this airport was nothing like LAX, it was still busy regardless, taking even more time to get to the parking garage from the influx of people heading out of the baggage claim. Each moment that ticked by where she wasn’t getting any closer to Duluth was a moment Roxy began to miss her friends even more.
It was strange, being so connected to the band she physically felt an emptiness when they weren’t near each other, but unsurprising. Those four had a way of digging into her heart since the very first moment they’d met and had been subtly carving themselves deeper and deeper with each passing day.
Aren’t you supposed to get tired of the people you spend every single moment of every single day with? She thought to herself, half-joking to try and dull the ache.
When they finally found the ancient, rusty blue truck in the airport parking lot, Declan realized something was bugging Roxy, so he let her pick the music for their long ride home. That was something he always did when she was in a bad mood; It was an unspoken invitation to talk it out or leave nothing said as they simply enjoyed each other’s comforting company to the sound of a background track.
First, she dug around in Dynamo’s glove box while her father took his place behind the wheel. Most of the tapes they had each made were in there, the ones they’d deemed travel-worthy anyway, along with the truck’s registration and various, small emergency supplies. The collection she had managed to pull out on her first try yielded one of the first tapes she had ever made - All her favorite songs from about five years ago - and the mix her dad had made for her to listen to as she was growing up. Each of them held 45 minutes on each side, so they’d have enough time to listen to both, and she popped in the cassette her father constructed to listen to first while he started up the vehicle.
After a few turns of the key, Dynamo’s engine loudly roared to life with a shutter that reached the entire cab. Another familiar feeling, one she certainly didn’t ever get in the Pontiac, as her father pulled the car out of its parking spot and the two began the journey home.
The idle small talk they had been making stopped the moment the first song began to play through the old, on the verge of blowing out speakers.
Being the music-obsessed man he was, of course, the first song Declan had chosen for his daughter’s tape was “Roxanne” by the Police. Not only was it one of his favorite songs of all time, but it had been the inspiration for her name.
“A musical name for my musical girl,” He’d always told her whenever he played the song for Roxy when she was younger. “This one was on the radio when I received the best news of my life…”
Declan claimed to have made many mistakes as a teenager, but assured her that listening to this song always reminded him that his life had turned out on the right track. Without “Roxanne” he’d never have fallen in love with music, he’d never have started his own band and discovered the emerging punk scene in his hometown of Austin, Texas, and without that, he’d have never had Roxanne.
When Roxy was old enough to begin to understand the lyrics and asked him what it meant to “put on the red light,” it had originally been to make him squirm, get him to admit that he didn’t really think about what it meant to name her after the song. Her rebellious phase hit quite swiftly once she turned thirteen, but dissipated about a year after, so now, she’d sometimes ask him randomly, for fun. In those cases, he’d ruffle her hair and make up a new absurd lie each time; Something silly and stupid, never truly telling her what it meant, though he knew for a fact she knew.
She suspected this song had something to do with her favorite color being red.
Leaning her head in the crook of her arm and staring out the window as they flew down the highway, Roxy reached for the dial and turned the volume up a few notches, but asked, “Tell me what putting on the red light means again?”
“Aren’t you listening to the song? She’s clearly using the light to interrupt a secret spy code!”
“Roxanne the spy does have a nice ring to it… Roxanne de la Rouge!”
He didn’t respond after that, though he did crack a small smile, simply tapping the wheel to the drum beat and checking the road signs to make sure they were on the right track.
The more cars they passed, the heavier her eyelids felt. Flying always took a lot out of her - Far more than she cared to admit. By the time the second song rolled around, “Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn’t’ve?)” by Buzzcocks, she was in and out of consciousness, thinking about how much she couldn’t wait to be back in Minnesota with her friends. At song three, “Real Cool Time” by the Stooges, she realized what a strange thought that was, considering months ago, that had been her worst nightmare.
Wherever we are… As long as we’re together, was her final conclusion, before slipping off to dreamland.
~
They stopped halfway home to have lunch at a diner off the side of the highway. It was a much-needed break, and a good idea for the pair to refuel at the gas station on the opposite corner, but in the blink of an eye Declan and Roxy were back in the truck, motoring as quickly as they could to get back home.
The grease dripping off of Roxy’s burger had settled nicely in her stomach, making her crave something from Duluth’s Bun In A Million; Still trying to wrap her head around the fact she was excited to be back in the Midwest.
By the time her tape of songs had run out, she hardly even noticed, spacing out as she stared at the miles of farmland whizzing by her window. Wordlessly, her dad reached out across the center console and nudged her to pull her out of her daze, pointing to the glove box.
Popping the small compartment in front of her open, Roxy blinked a few times to focus her attention and began to push various papers and items out of her way to find the other tapes they had stashed in Dynamo. It wouldn’t be so messy if he had just bought the tape organizer I told him to…
When her hands finally found something plastic under a box of bandaids, she pulled it out to discover a cassette she had never seen in the car before. Instead of the standard black of the blank tapes Declan had scattered all over their house, this one was bright white, with his smudged handwriting sprawled across the top.
BTR
Roxy could hardly contain the grin curling her lips as she hastily popped her mix out of the car’s stereo and inserted the recording of her band’s first album. Though it took a few seconds to play - Declan had never been the best at making pristine recordings - by the time the intro to “Big Time Rush” started she could hear his deep laughter standing out against the melody.
When their first album had been released, she had been sure to send a signed CD home as a testament to her songwriting ability. Though she had assumed her dad had tucked it away somewhere for safekeeping, she’d never have guessed he would’ve made a tape of it to listen on the go. When the first chorus hit, Roxy learned something else: Declan knew all the words.
It was almost enough for her to erupt in a fit of giggles, listening to him unabashedly belt out his declaration to go “big time” and at the bridge, she decided to join him in singing while playing air guitar to the chords she’d written her first night in Los Angeles.
The pair continued like that, through “Famous” and “Any Kind of Guy” and then the rest of the tracks, all the way to the end with “Stuck” when they were interrupted by the sound of Roxy’s phone going off.
Now “Boyfriend” was attempting to get into the song mix, with the writer swiftly taking her phone out of her back pocket and turning down the car’s stereo emphasizing the riff coming from the tiny cell speakers. A picture of her and James on their second-first date lit up her screen as she accepted the call.
“Hello?”
“Hey, babe! Just wanted to let you know we all made it home safe and sound.”
It wasn’t lost on Roxy that her dad snorted at James’ words; She mustn’t have had her speaker volume turned down enough.
Shifting the device to her right hand, she slugged Declan on the shoulder. “Ugh, I’m so jealous. We’ve still got about two hours left, I think.” By the way the sun was beginning to shine directly into her eyes, she guessed, “Probably won’t be back until way after dark.”
On the other line, she heard some background deliberation meaning James was probably with Kendall, Carlos, and Logan, and it took a second for him to respond, “The guys and I are going to kick it at Carlos’ for the night, think you can make it?”
How are they so go, go, go…
“As much as I’d love to, jet lag is kicking my ass. It’s time for a much-needed night in for me.”
“Suit yourself!” He laughed before lowering his voice. Roxy could practically imagine him turning away from his friends and cradling his phone to his ear while he said, “Let me know when you make it to town. Since I’m not there to kiss you goodnight in person I figured I could-”
Immediately, her cheeks flushed before remembering where she was. “O-okay! Yes, I’ll… do that. Bye!”
His confused, “Bye?” hardly made it through the speaker before she ended the call, scrambling to put her phone back into her pocket and pretending to be very interested in the small town she and her dad were passing through out the window.
Declan shuffled a bit, the aging leather of Dynamo’s seats letting out a squeak in response. Soon after, “Stuck” ended and Roxy heard him flip the tape over to a live version of the unreleased “This is Our Someday.” A recording he must have made at their hometown concert over the summer.
Though she much preferred the guitar piece she had written for the live show, she hoped her dad would enjoy the studio version just as much.
While the song played, Roxy still stared out the window, trying to work through the complex emotions of being embarrassed by her unsuspecting boyfriend in front of her father. We sure are on a roll this week…
“He’s good to you, right?”
The girl felt her eyes widen, letting the question rattle around in her brain for a minute before sighing, “Dad…”
Music turned down to zero, Declan asked her again.
“I’ll call Jo and Camille. The three of you can deliberate on it,” Roxy tried to quip, wanting to have literally any conversation but this one with her father. If she could sink into her seat and disappear at this very moment, she probably would.
Leather squeaking again, Declan blew out a large puff of air. “Seriously, Honey Bun. Teenage musicians, they’re-”
“I know!”
Like really. I know. Not that her father ever needed to hear about Dak Zevon. If that went anything like their conversation after her fiasco with Mag last year, he’d probably end up with his face plastered on wanted posters on every street corner of California.
“Roxanne,” Declan said softly. “Please. Even with you living all the way across the country, I’m still your Dad. I gotta make sure.”
His daughter crossed her arms, pulling her knees up to her chest even with the uncomfortable seat belt cutting into her collarbone. “Yes, James is good to me.” Though that alone felt a bit unconvincing, and she audibly swallowed before following, “More like, perfect to me. He listens to me ramble about songwriting, always makes me feel like I’m the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, we never fight… We spend as much time together as possible and I’m really happy being with him.”
For someone who writes love songs… Damn, that was cliche.
“Okay, alright… Thank you.” Her father conceded, seemingly content with the answer she had given him. There was a beat of silence before he gripped the steering wheel tightener, “And you’re being safe?”
“Dad!”
Her exasperation was enough to get him to finally let out a little chuckle, “He’s your first boyfriend, Roxy! A boy and a musician. I’ve just gotta double-check!”
“We’re not-” The writer stopped herself from saying anything else in immediate response, doing her best to understand where her father was coming from. More than anyone, he understood her situation best. He had been a teenage boy and a musician - one who often proclaimed he hadn’t been safe when he was her age. His questions weren’t to annoy her, he just needed to fuel his peace of mind. “The last year has been the best year of my life. I’m not going to do anything that puts my future in danger.” Roxy turned away from the window, finally glancing over at her dad to catch his solemn nod of understanding. “And one day this might be easy to talk about, but it’s fresh, and it’s new, and… you’re my dad.”
Declan nodded again, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck at the response he had elicited from his daughter. “Yeah… Sorry for the ninth degree. I just love you. Loads.”
“Sorry for snapping back,” She mumbled, but she knew he didn’t care. As much as they’d pushed each other's buttons in the past, he’d never, ever been angry with her. “And I love you too.”
Catching his half smile as he kept his eyes on the road, Roxy felt herself begin to smile too. She had forgotten just what it felt like to have her dad around, and now the excitement of being home wasn’t all that confusing anymore.
She didn’t miss being in Duluth, she missed being around her father.
***
Finding something to wear to a show was always a struggle for Roxy. Back in Brand New Day, an old band t-shirt or flannel, some skinny jeans, and black boots were practically a uniform worn at every single gig. While on the Big Time Rush tour, her options were equally as simple - Something cute, matching whatever colors the boys were wearing that night, that didn’t make her stand out in the slightest. But to a basement show in her hometown? Nothing in her closet seemed like the right way to go.
She hadn’t even been planning on going to one over the holiday break, but she had run into her old lab partner, Catherine Endicott while at the grocery store earlier, and she wasn’t ever one to pass up an invitation to enjoy the local music scene. So many incredible bands and musicians had come out of Minnesota; It would be a shame to miss out on potentially seeing the next big thing right as they got their start.
“Bob Dylan, The Replacements, Hüsker Dü, Big Time Rush… Minnesota is crawling with musical talent,” She rambled, twisting her hair up into a large claw clip and letting the ends stick up, framing the top of her head like a spiky crown, while speaking to a spaced-out James. “Now we get to see Cait’s band, Under the Bleachers!”
It sounded like he was humming along to the OneRepublic song on the radio station he’d picked, sitting on top of her messily made bed while she dug through her closet to try and find something she’d feel comfortable in.
Fashion was always a mixed bag at underground shows, and that had never really bothered her before, but she’d found she favored more colorful and trendy outfits than the experimental and quirky style she often saw at house gigs. Typically, she’d just wear whatever and bolster the strange looks because she’d be with her dad - in his own grunge style - and he’d ward off any unwanted glances or sly comments. But going with James, the poster boy for everything mainstream, would not afford her such grace.
So… Blend in but make it my own… She determined, reaching all the way into the back of her closet for the punkish outfits she used to wear while she was in Brand New Day. It felt like forever ago now, but that had been her style when trying to fit in with Mag and Dani at their shows, but these days, not so much.
“So we’re going to see a show by a band you’ve never heard of because someone you kind of know invited you?” James asked, clarifying the situation she had hurriedly explained to him on the phone as she’d come home from the store. Of course, he had been more than eager to bike over to her place in his “alternative” outfit - which to him was a pair of nice black jeans, a black v-neck, and a black jacket - but was having some trouble grasping the concept of seeing an artist they didn’t know.
Even though he couldn’t see her buried in the back of her closet, the girl nodded as she slid hanger after hanger toward her to check out all her options. “Duh. Most of the people at our first show didn’t know who we were either, but they came because of our amazing advertising!”
Oh… Good times, Roxy fondly recalled running around L.A. handing out as many Big Time Rush fliers as she could and inviting anyone to their show that would stop long enough to listen. Brand New Day’s advertising strategy had been similar, but she also had the power of the airwaves to help her out at the Project Pop radio station.
Taking in her words, James continued humming to the radio, as Roxy’s fingers landed on a long-forgotten t-shirt she had been keeping tucked away for a special occasion. James’ first basement show seemed like as good a time as any, and she managed to pair it with a short, red skirt and a pair of black fishnet tights.
As quickly as she had found it, she ran into the bathroom to change, feeling much more like herself than she had figured she would as she admired her picks in the large mirror. Not only was this her first concert with James, but it would also be her first underground show since she left Brand New Day. A part of her was irrationally worried that she’d see Mag and Dani there, but Duluth wasn’t that small a city, and Cait hadn’t mentioned running into them during their brief conversation earlier.
Then again… They did show up at the Palm Woods…
“When you say ‘we’ are you talking about Big Time Rush or your old band?” She heard James call through the closed door, just as she managed to slip the final component of her outfit on; A gold chain belt cooly rested against her exposed midriff after she’d tied up the shirt, matching the charm necklace hanging around her neck.
Aside from the time Kendall had stolen her journal and passed it off to famous internet blogger Deke, that had been the first time he’d asked her something regarding her musical past. Not that she didn’t mind sharing - with him at least - the question simply caught her off guard. Despite a long-standing friendship, their relationship was still in the beginning stages. Roxy’s heart skipped; It was nice that even after knowing each other quite well, there was still much for them to learn about each other.
Slowly opening the door to the bathroom and making a beeline back to her closet for a pair of black boots, Roxy considered her next words carefully, “Yes to both; But each time we did a significant amount of advertising. Word of mouth does wonders in any town… Ergo, we’re seeing Cait’s band.”
When she finally turned around to find the jewelry box on her dresser, she felt James’ eyes glued to her as she crossed the small room. It made her chest flutter, knowing he couldn’t stop staring at her, and just for fun, she used it to her advantage as she coyly glanced over her shoulder and shot him a wink before picking out a pair of matching earrings.
“Rox…” He almost whispered, and the springs of her bed groaned as he stood up. In response, he brought a fist to his mouth before clearing his throat and she didn’t miss the unmistakable dusting of pink blushing the top of his ears. “I know you’re going to be freezing but is it bad that I don’t care? I never want you to take that off…”
In the vanity mirror she was using to check her outfit, she noticed he crept closer while he spoke, gaze suspiciously targeting her legs. When he reached out to wrap his arms around her, she playfully evaded his grasp with a nicely timed side-step.
“Oh, my God!” Roxy cried, cutting into his sentence with a few uncontrollable snorts of laughter and an accusatory finger, meeting him in the middle of the room. “You’ve got a thing for fishnets!”
She watched James freeze, glancing up at the ceiling fan lazily rotating around. In response, he let out a few beats of an innocent whistle before rocking back and forth on his heels. “Whaaat! No!”
Acting against his words, his hand reached out to grab hers at the same time his gaze flickered down just long enough to give her another once-over, noticeably lingering on her tights. When the writer opened her mouth again to tease him, he beat her to the punch and changed the subject, pointing to the old black and white band t-shirt she had tied up above her navel. “Who’s Dec and the Desires? Never heard you talk about them before.”
Another question that made her giddy, and she grinned as she laced her fingers between his and pulled him into the living room toward the front door, making sure to grab a lighter from the kitchen junk drawer on the way out. “An underground punk band I love. They were really big in the late 80’s and early 90’s in Austin, Texas. Though, I figure you can put the rest together yourself, considering you know the lead singer.”
It seemed as though her words confused her boyfriend for a moment, as they stepped out of the Somerset’s one-story and out onto the freezing streets of Minnesota. Of course, James had been right, and Roxy was freezing, but Cait’s house was only a few blocks away. She could brave the cold in the name of fashion.
Besides, I’ve got my own personal space heater…
“I do?” He asked, eyes darting around the empty driveway before his brows knit in confusion.
Roxy carefully tugged him toward the mostly snow-cleared sidewalk, silently letting him know they’d be walking to their destination instead of driving; Someone had been caught up at work after taking an impromptu day off on Christmas Eve and kept Dynamo out late. “Yes, baby. Dec… and the Desires?”
James blinked, either still confused or taking in the pet name he wasn’t quite used to as he followed her lead.
Oh my…
“Declan?” She tried again, doing her best to keep from shivering too much as she and James traversed the icy path. “Somerset?”
“Oh! Your dad was in a band like you?” The genuine curiosity in his voice made her melt a smidge and she snugged his arm into her chest as she practically pulled him down the street to Cait’s. “I didn’t know that, Rox! Kendall and I talked his ear off about sports backstage when we could’ve been asking for music advice! He’s way nicer than Gustavo.”
Her heart involuntarily squeezed at the thought of James feeling comfortable going to her father for advice. “Yeah, they were really going places. Headlining local venues, sending for record labels, lining up an independently run U.S. tour, until…” She paused, realizing she’d never spoken with anyone besides her dad and old band about his small stint in the music industry. Until me. “He’ll talk your ear off about the glory days if you’d let him.”
“It’s neat that the two of you have so much in common… My parents always had to drag me to stuff about Brooke Diamond Cosmetics - Thank God that’s all over,” James nodded, slinging an arm around his girlfriend as they walked. Try as she might to contain her shivers, he could feel the involuntary shakes and goosebumps riddling her arm under his fingertips. “What did I tell you about being cold?!”
Roxy knew he was changing the subject so she wouldn’t ask any follow-up questions about his statement. In all the time they’d known each other, this was the first in which he’d willingly brought up the company his mother ran. Besides, the writer had only made the connection that he was the Brooke Diamond’s son during an interview on the band’s summer tour - If James had wanted her to know that sooner, he would’ve told her.
Just as he was interested to learn more about her past, she was curious about his, but decided not to push her luck as they traveled on to Cait’s. James would share when he was ready and that was perfectly fine with Roxy.
~
They hadn’t even been in the crowded, boiling basement for 10 minutes when a guy around James and Roxy’s age, dripping in metal spikes and heavy chains, came up to them, asking the latter if she was ever in a band because she looked “kinda, sorta, super familiar.” The show wasn’t even close to starting yet.
The writer shrugged him off, playing with the rim of the red Solo cup in her hand when she brought up Big Time Rush - knowing full well that wasn’t what he had meant by his question - and introduced him to James who was far more versed in interactions like these. Just as quickly as the guy had come to speak with them, he wrinkled his nose at the thought of meeting a member of a boy band and disappeared into the sea of people around them.
Five minutes, and Roxy’s nervous downing of her drink later, someone else stopped by the couple and asked her the same question. Though she wanted them to stick around a bit and ask for a few tips on how they got their sharp-edged eyeliner to stand out so nicely against their dark eyeshadow, her response was the same as before, as was the individual’s when she brought up the pop band she wrote and composed for.
James, bless his heart, looked a bit uncomfortable with the sheer amount of people packed into the small space and stuck close to her side as she navigated them as best she could around the small space. Despite pouring him a cup straight from the ice-bathing keg’s tap in the corner closest to the entrance, he had declined the drink - “Need to bike home, babe,” - and passed it off to the girl in line behind them.
Then, she asked Roxy if she’d been in a band as well.
Just the thought of anyone associating her with Brand New Day made her nauseous, so she used to boy band line again, and the young girl scurried off to her group of friends, shaking her head at them as if they’d all been wondering the same thing.
Ignoring the slight shake in her fingers as she reached for her boyfriend’s hand, Roxy told herself she brushed off the questions only because Brand New Day was openly establishing themselves as a duo now that they’d moved to Hollywood and signed with Galactic Records. Telling someone she used to play with them might make her look like a liar, or worse, a delusional fan girl.
Yup, that’s totally worse than being a liar, she decided, squeezing James’ hand for comfort while waving in and out through the mass of individuals to try and get to the center of the room. I never want to be associated with them again.
“We’ll be able to hear the best from here!” Roxy assured James as they’d reached the middle of the crowd, having to raise her voice over the noise level, even though she couldn’t see where Cait had set up the instruments over everyone standing in front of her. In her opinion, the only downfall to house shows was the absence of an elevated stage. “Think you’ll be able to see alright?”
The question was inherently dumb; One look over the cramped space told her he was one of the tallest people there - excluding those who had used an insane amount of hairspray to hold up their hairdos and those in platform shoes.
Instead of answering her question, James squeezed her hand back before warmly saying, “You’re famous.”
No question mark, no hesitation. Spoken as though it were the truest of facts.
Taking another sip of her drink, Roxy held it on her tongue for a moment, letting the pungent taste linger before swallowing while she considered his words. Then, the sickly feeling from before returned, heartbeat drumming uncomfortably in her chest, and her immediate reaction was to deflect his statement. “You’re the one in a boy band.”
“No one’s asked me if I was in a band tonight.”
“No one here listens to that kind of music.”
When James realized he wasn’t getting anywhere with this conversation, he sighed and shifted his attention forward to the non-existent stage, while his girlfriend realized how combative her words were coming off. Which, unfortunately, they were designed to be. Brand New Day was the last thing she’d wanted to think about at the show tonight, but he wasn’t asking to be a bother. She knew that, But this wasn’t the setting in which she wanted to have that conversation.
It had just been a long time since she’d considered her past in the Duluth music scene. She never handled the unwanted feelings about her old band members and stolen intellectual property well, as evidenced by the slightly mean tone she’d taken with him.
Though she thought she was over it after she vowed to move on after her last encounter with Mag and Dani at AM LA, actions certainly spoke louder than words.
Roxy took another sip of her drink, starting to feel the beginnings of a buzz itch at the back of her brain. Way to go Rox, drive off the one guy you’ve managed to keep around...
Just as she opened her mouth to apologize, she felt James squeeze her hand again. “Did you play a lot of shows in places like this? How could you stand the distinct… skunky and sweaty smell?”
Saying a silent prayer of thanks he had moved on from the previous line of questioning, Roxy felt her rapid breathing begin to slow.
“More than I could count. Dani’s basement was a bit bigger than this one, though, but most times we’d jump in on someone else’s show if we begged them hard enough,” She shared in earnest, trying to tell herself it wouldn’t be as bad to talk it out with someone she cared about. “Loved every moment of it, too.”
By now, she had finally worked up enough courage to glance up at her boyfriend in the low light, finding him raising an eyebrow at her comment.
“Even the skunky and sweaty smell! Got used to it after a while… But you,” Roxy reached up and poked at his cheek with a loose giggle, “You’ve been venue spoiled. Free snacks and gifts, clean green rooms, crowds of thousands screaming your name… Lucky, lucky boy.”
“That I am,” James assured her, bending down to press a much-wanted kiss to her cheek to let her know everything was alright. “Sounds like you get free drinks at shows like these though. That’s not a perk of our job quite yet.”
Of course, his timing was perfect to when she went to take a sip of her drink, causing her to nearly spit out what little she had left as she snorted a bit of buzz-induced laughter. “Only if you’re friends with the homeowner or you’re incredibly cute. So both of us are in the clear tonight, superstar, because those jeans you’re wearing make me wanna-”
The distinct ringing of microphone feedback surged through her ears, immediately cutting her off from her train of thought as Under the Bleachers took their places at the front of the room and soon, it was replaced with the deep kick of the drum echoing in her chest, carrying over the second-hand speakers. Wasting no time, the band jumped straight into their first song, leaving her little choice but to pull her boyfriend down for a quick kiss against the beginnings of a guitar melody meant to promise there was much more in store for him later.
~
Lucky for James, Roxy cashed in on her silent promise about halfway through the set when the ear-splittingly loud music had thoroughly rattled her brain and she had managed to finish off her second cup of beer. The room was warm, sure, but he’d wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her closer a few minutes ago, and the temperature prickling her skin reached inferno-like levels just from his touch. Be it the heightened state she had found herself in, the adrenalin rush of her first show in so long, or the fact Cait’s band wrote excellent make-out music, Roxy had dragged James out of the crowd to the back of the room and spent most of the set’s remaining time pressed up against the basement wall with her lips locked onto his.
That was, until the most pit opened, of course.
When the show ended, she nearly cried, but allowed James to navigate them up the staircase and out into Cait’s backyard with everyone else, before eventually making it back out to the sidewalk and heading in the direction of her house.
“Tonight was perfect!” She yelled without regard for the late hour, throwing her head and hands back as the sound echoed off the houses on the road they took. “Can you believe Under the Bleachers are so, so, so good? We should call Gustavo - He needs a girl band and they need a record contract! An album too, lots of albums. So many albums…”
The heat of the basement had almost made them forget the below-freezing temperature outside, but Roxy could hardly feel it as she twirled down the sidewalk, humming what she could remember of the songs they’d played. At some point, her boyfriend had given her his coat, but she didn’t remember when.
When she almost hit a metal mailbox on the street with her hands, James poorly tried to conceal his smile as he caught her around the wrist and pulled her into his side, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Careful, crazy girl. I know you punks like to break stuff, but let’s keep the damages to a minimum.”
At his statement, she squeezed her eyes shut and stuck out her tongue, shaking her head at the notion. “Not a punk! Not even close!”
Roxy managed to pop one eye open and glance his way, noting the way his head tilted to the side, bottom lip stuck out. It made her giggle.
“Wanna know a secret?” She said, fully intending to whisper it in his ear, but she was too busy continuing to stare at his mouth to focus on her volume. The pair had split her last cup of lukewarm beer; The relaxation it brought had caused her newfound loose lips. “I just like the music, making me the world's biggest poser! I’m not connected to the culture at all; Not like Dad.”
Hand moving up and down on her arm to spark some heat, the perplexed look on James’ face remained. “You think? From what you said earlier it sounds like the two of you were in pretty similar situations. Playing the shows, writing the music, connecting with others around town… Sounds pretty punk to me.”
“He and his band wrote about real issues,” Roxy blurted out, still failing to find the balance between what she should and shouldn’t say. There had been a reason she’d needed to share her last cup with James - The looseness had traveled to whatever part of her brain filtered her speech. “Racism, religious conservatism, labor rights… Shit was bad and they were able to channel it into a musical act of protest. All I ever managed to write about was stupid, trivial teenage stuff to pair over a punky-sounding guitar riff. I still do that, just.. Poppy now.”
James didn’t say anything for a moment, and when she turned to look at him as they rounded the corner of her street, she swore she could see the gears turning in his head. “It’s all about self-expression, though, right?”
A good point - one she hadn’t been expecting him to make. In fact, that had been something she had neglected to realize all night, despite that being one of the core tenets of the genre.
“Getting in touch with your emotions, writing them out, being brave enough to share them… That’s hard for a lot of people, Rox.” The hesitation in his voice made her feel as though he was speaking from experience, but she certainly wasn’t in a state to ask him. “Whether or not you think it’s punk is up to you, but I think it’s pretty extraordinary.”
There were only two times in her life Roxy could remember being rendered speechless - The first time her dad played her Definitely Maybe by Oasis and the first time she’d met Dak Zevon - and now, this was a conversation she could file away in that folder as well. He wasn’t known for always saying the right thing at the right time, but she internalized his words, playing them over and over in her mind as they approached her front door. While she did, her heart was pounding to the point of ache, almost as though it were attempting to break free from her chest and make a new home for itself in James’ hands.
Just as she was figuring out how to respond, he continued with a crack of a smile, “Especially extraordinary when the song you write is about me! Perfect subject matter for my perfect songwriter.”
***
On her third day home, Roxy woke up with a raging headache.
I should’ve listened to James… was her very first thought, muttering out a curse at her last-night self for not drinking the glass of water he had grabbed for her before he’d left to go home. Two and a half cups typically didn’t affect her, but it had been quite some time since her last show.
Through sleep-blurred eyes, she blindly reached out to her bedside table, flailing her hand around to try and find the glass, but her hand managed to catch a small paper note instead. Pulling it close to her face, Roxy had to squint to make out her boyfriend’s beautiful script as she ignored the pounding in her brain.
Hope you drank this - If not, you’re in for a fun day tomorrow.
Asked your dad to tape the afternoon episode of MacKenzie Falls so you wouldn’t miss it if you slept in btw. Not sure how he feels about you drinking, but he gave me the stink eye when I walked you in. Hope he doesn’t blame me.
Had a great time tonight, thanks for inviting me. Can’t wait til our next show.
XX Superstar
Though the note was sweet, she cringed at the silly nickname she’d given him before the show started. In her defense, she wasn’t thinking all that clearly, but someone who works with words for a living certainly should have been able to come up with something more eloquent than Superstar.
Oh, well she told herself, before throwing the covers off her body, not realizing the rapid motion would only aggravate her headache more, and greedily chugging down the tall glass beside the note. I’ll feel better after a shower.
And she did, mostly, after she adjusted to the bright white lights of her bathroom, though the ache in her head was slowly starting to carry down her arms and legs as the bruises from last night’s mosh pit began to fully form on her skin, blotting in dark clusters of greens, blues, and purples.
When Roxy caught the damage to her body in the large mirror, it should have worried her, but instead, she ran a few fingers over them, careful not to poke them any further, and smiled. The sign of a good show…
By the time she had dried her hair and picked out her warmest winter outfit to see if her dad wanted to go for a walk on his day off, her cell phone began to ring, buzzing about 20 times louder in her ears thanks to her headache.
It was a struggle to run from her bathroom all the way to her bedside table to turn off the smooth guitar solo of “One of Those Nights” by the Eagles, meaning Kendall was waiting for her to pick up the phone. It had been tough to pick out a song for his ringtone, considering how he had almost zero music taste outside of his own band, but during their guitar lessons, he’d asked her how quickly he’d be able to play the tune currently traveling through her speakers, so “One of Those Nights” it was.
Flopping back down onto her bed, Roxy pressed accept and brought the cell to her ear. “Hello?”
“Roxyyy!” Kendall called, and his assistant winced at the sheer volume of his excited tone. “Two questions: Guess who passed their driver's test? And did you bring your skates home with you?”
“Katie passed?” The girl deadpanned, letting his snort carry over the line before she responded, “And yes, I did. I figured I might get dragged back onto the ice at some point.”
“Well, I know you suck at skating. So, as a payment for all your guitar lessons, allow me to help show you how we hockey heads master the ice!”
“Dude! Not all of us were born with ice skates strapped to our feet!
Roxy focused on the insulting part of his statement and could almost hear the Knight smirk crawling across his lips as he continued, “Exactly! Which is why you and I are taking advantage of Duluth’s finest frozen lake this afternoon.”
While that did sound like loads of fun, Roxy still had more questions about his plan than answers. “And what does this have to do with you getting your driver’s license again?”
“My mom’s taking our van downtown to hang out with some of her friends.”
“And?”
Kendall coughed. “And I was hoping… In celebration… That the world’s best songwriter-assistant would let me drive her ancient truck around town a bit before we hit the ice.”
“Why do the four of you think you can just drive my cars around whenever you want?”
“We can stop by the grocery store and I’ll buy you this month’s Pop Tiger.”
“Deal! See you in 20!”
~
By the time Roxy had followed Kendall's texted instructions for how to get to his place from the main road, it was nearly too late for her to realize her beaten-up truck was almost out of gas. So, when the blond opened the driver's side door and his assistant slid over the bench seating to the passenger side, she was more than happy to pass Dynamo off.
“Driving a car is a huge responsibility,” She told him jokingly, attempting to put on her most authoritative voice as her friend climbed behind the wheel, tossed his skates and two hockey sticks in the backseat, and adjusted the mirrors. “Taking care of the car is just as important as taking care of yourself. Making sure there’s wiper fluid, getting the oil changed every 3,000 miles, making sure there’s enough gas in the tank…” Rolling his eyes, Kendall was quick to combat her words with a “Yeah, yeah, Rox, I already know all that junk,” but she watched his eyes flicker down to the dashboard to check all the lights and gauges before putting the car into drive, narrowing. “You’re not getting anything but a magazine off me.”
“Isn’t it your mom who always preaches love and kindness and helping others whenever you can?” His assistant hummed against the stereo, observing the idyllic houses they passed by as they exited Kendall’s neighborhood.
“Roxy-”
Without thinking, she immediately cut him off to pretend as though she was reading a sensationalized news headline in one of her favorite magazines, “Kendall Knight, international pop star, refuses to help Big Time Rush’s number one fan after she grants him a massive favor!”
There were a few seconds without a response, Roxy’s tape still spinning in the background, before Kendall sighed, “You’ve got to stop hanging out with Katie.”
“Now you don’t want your sister to have a talented, confident role model to look up to?”
At the very least, that comment elicited a bit of laughter from her friend, who reluctantly turned the wheel to pull Dynamo into a gas station once they found themselves closer to town. “Talented? Undeniably. But confident…”
When she glanced over at him and noticed his raised brow once he’d parked in front of an open pump, she reached over the console and shoved him in the shoulder when she couldn’t hide her own grin, “I’m going to start charging you for guitar lessons, asshole.”
Dynamo’s ancient door screeched open. “Any chance I could get a friends and family discount?”
The last thing Kendall heard before closing the door was a very loud snort, “You wish.”
~
Thirty minutes, and what she suspected was likely Kendall’s form of payback, later, Roxy was regretting her jokingly harsh words as she stood stranded in the middle of the large frozen lake he had taken her to. “I’m sorry! Hear me? I’m so sorry! Lessons are free for life! And I won’t complain when you don’t practice between sessions! And I’ll stop making you play songs only I like!”
As the blond whizzed by her, going so fast and getting so dangerously close to where she stood she almost slipped off her skates, he just cackled before skating off in a new direction, looping around, and doing it again. He was running circles around her, even managing to spray some ice her way and add to the chill creeping into her bones purely from being outside in the Minnesota winter, but still looked completely in his element.
The only time she’d been to the ice rink with the boys had been after their exhausting battle with Mercedes Griffin to secure their spot as Rocque Records sole band after their demo tracks had been completed. Though it had been ages ago, and Roxy had spent most of her time attached to James while he helped her scoot around the rink, she remembered the high speeds at which her friends had sped around the arena as they played their own version of literal freeze tag. She could only imagine what they’d look like at a hockey game, weaving in and out between each other and their opponents, slapping the black rubber puck back and forth around the playing field.
While that sounded more like a nightmare to the writer, she could see the determination in Kendall’s narrowed eyes as he skated around, even if it was only to torture her, and the pure power it took to have even an iota of control over his direction, speed, and balance. Even without the pressure of a cheering audience, a stick in his hand, or the pounds of gear covering his body, she knew he was pushing himself to do his very best; The same look often appeared on his face during Big Time Rush’s dance practices.
To Roxy’s credit, she wasn’t completely stuck either. Kendall had been kind enough to give her some basic pointers when it came to skating on a natural surface, so she didn’t have to spend the whole time clinging to his arm, but at the rate he was zooming around, she was worried if she moved, she’d find herself right in the middle of his path and collide into a big bloody mess. So, she resigned herself to bundle into her red puffer jacket and wait until he finished having his fun.
Which he did after about a dozen more laps around his assistant.
“Come here!” He called out to her, finally coming to a stop by the edge of the ice. It was close to where the pair had trailblazed through the small section of wood from the parking lot, so he had dropped the hockey sticks and puck he’d brought in the snow bank.
Slowly but surely, Roxy managed to get herself over the rough, yet slippery surface without falling, and though she didn’t know a thing about playing ice hockey, she was happy for the small amount of stability the stick granted her once she took it from the blond.
The writer watched as Kendall scooped the puck up from the powder it rested on and flicked his wrist, throwing it out over the ice like a frisbee before he took off after it, with the same determined look he had before. In a flash, he’d caught up to it and slapped it across the lake with a tight snap! before glancing back over his shoulder to see where Roxy had gone.
“What’s the hold-up?”
Roxy blinked, still leaning on the stick in her grasp for support. “Uh… Am I supposed to be chasing it too?”
Throwing his arms up in exasperation, Kendall waved his stick above his head, “Obviously! This game isn’t fun with only one player.”
“It’s not much of a game when you’re leagues faster than me!” She protested, almost catching herself off balance when she tossed up the hand holding the stick.
“Well, how else are you gonna get better?”
Ugh, she grumbled before tentatively pushing off her back leg, how am I supposed to dispute that? “Who the hell died and made you coach?”
Not her best rebuttal, but one that left her feeling satisfied all the same once she finally reached his side.
In an instant, he took off after the puck again, and this time, she followed.
“Daniel Rogers, beginning of my sophomore year,” He quipped, though Roxy could barely hear him as the distance between them grew. “And not coach - captain!”
When he finally reached the puck across the way, he shot it back in Roxy’s direction, and she did her best to hit it right back. Unfortunately for her, however, she completely whiffed it, and while the puck sailed right past her, the sheer force she had attempted to put into her slapshot sent her tumbling to the ice. Had she not been so roughed up from the night before, it probably wouldn’t have hurt so much when she connected with the solid ground.
The shock to her system ran straight from her backside and through her spine; Roxy sucked in a sharp breath of air.
Seconds later he was by her side, hockey stick clattering to the ground as he hauled her off of the ice and back onto her feet like it was no big deal. “Jesus, Rox, take it easy!”
First, it’s “How else are you gonna get better?” Then it’s “Take it easy!” Familiar heat of embarrassment climbed up her body, and she hoped if Kendall noticed any splotches of red forming on her skin, he’d chalk it up to the frigidity of the weather. With a weak smile designed to mask her wince as she found her footing again, she joked, “Probably not a good idea to make me goalie, Captain.”
“Oh, I’d never dream of it, believe me,” He whistled, letting go of his grip around her arms once he was sure she’d be able to stand again. “Carlos Garcia is the best damn goalie this town has ever seen… There’s no one else I’d trust in front of the net. They don’t call him “Shutout Sensacional’ for nothing, you know.”
“They call him what?” Roxy giggled in response, half at the silly title and half at Kendall’s complete butchering of the Spanish term, though she certainly wanted to know more. “Do all of you get nicknames?”
Grinning, Kendall began to skate toward the puck again, and this time, his assistant eagerly followed after him. Still not as fast, but at least the distance between them was respectable this time.
“It doesn’t sound as cool when you put it like that,” He huffed, managing to shoot the puck back toward her, much slower this time so she actually had a chance at passing it back. “James is Pretty Boy for obvious reasons and Logan is ‘Tensie on account of how tense ‘e is and-”
When the blond cut himself off, Roxy assumed he was refraining from sharing his as she finally managed to rear her stick back and sent the puck flying his way, “Oh, yes! Did you see that?! I did it!” The smile lighting up Kendall’s face as he took off toward her poorly aimed pass made her light up equally as bright, “But that doesn’t mean you don’t tell me your nickname either, Captain!”
When he caught up to the puck, instead of shooting it her way, he kept it in his possession as he raced back toward her. His moves were similar to before, circling around her as quickly as he could, all while keeping the puck under the control of his stick.
“Surrounded!” Kendall said between breaths as he went around again and again.
Still coming down from her high of managing to get a pass in, Roxy chuckled at his actions, having half a mind to hold her stick out and catch him off guard if he wanted to keep annoying her. “I know I’m surrounded! Don’t wear yourself out there, Cap. I might be able to get the puck away from you after a few more circles…”
Kendall came to a dramatic stop, kicking up more flakes of ice with his skates as he turned his feet to angle the blades and threw up a peace sign with his free hand. “You misunderstand. Two words: Sir. Rounded.”
“Oh, a little knight pun. How adorable,” His assistant scrunched her nose up as she teased him. “Very clever use of your - two words - Sir. Name.”
Bringing his stick to hers with an annoying crack, Kendall signaled it was time to start up their game again by sticking out his tongue at her equally terrible pun. “Catch me if you can, Roxstar!”
As quickly as they could, Kendall and Roxy kicked off their back legs and staked off toward the puck, blades carrying them across the ice faster than ever before.
Maybe Kendall’s right… I am getting better at this.
~
It took forever for Dynamo’s archaic heater to kick in once the singer and his assistant climbed back into the truck’s cab, placing their skating and hockey equipment in the backseat before peeling out of the parking lot and heading back toward town.
“So, are we planning on picking up Shutout Sensacional, Pretty Boy, and ‘Tensie? We haven’t hung out together in a while,” Roxy asked, digging through the truck’s glove box to try and find a tape she wanted to play on their 20-minute journey. By “a while” she’d only meant a few days, but the five of them were so used to being around each other all the time, it was almost strange they hadn’t done something together in Duluth.
Drumming his fingers along the cracked wheel, Kendall sighed, “Would you believe me if I told you I was a bit worn out? I’ve lost my stamina…”
“Boo hoo.” Popping a cassette into the player, Roxy turned the volume dial a few notches to the right. “It’s been a while since you’ve been on the ice, man, cut yourself some slack.”
“Oh, that reminds me! One of the guys on the MAHS team, Hawkins, is throwing a New Year’s get-together on Thursday. Think you’d wanna come?”
Taking in the gorgeous sight of the snow-covered pine trees on the side of the highway, Roxy tilted her head, “A normal get-together or a Big Time Rush get-together?”
“Definitely a Big Time Rush get-together; His parents are out of town,” He replied, which was just codeword for “party!”
Slowly, the writer nodded. “If he doesn’t mind the four of you taking a plus one, I’d be happy to come.”
He kept his eyes on the road, but Roxy could just imagine the sparkle mixed in with the foresty green of his irises at her answer. “Sick! All the guys are going to be so stoked to meet you.”
At that notion, Roxy felt her stomach flutter. James had learned plenty about her last night, voluntarily and involuntarily, and now it was her turn to get to know more about him through his friends at Mountain Aire. “It’ll be nice to meet some of the people I was supposed to go to high school with,” she mused. “I didn’t really get to know anyone during my first few weeks there.”
“Everyone on the team is super chill for a bunch of guys that play a pretty violent sport. They’ll be sure to tell you all the embarrassing stories about the four of us they can.”
“Thank God. You boys all tell the same stories over and over again. I’ll be glad to get some new ones to make fun of you for…”
Kendall scoffed before reaching out and poking her in the arm, “If you dish it, you better be prepared to take it!”
In response, Roxy blew a raspberry. “You have to be nice to me or I’ll stop writing your songs!”
“Oh, whatever!” The blond huffed over the soft music. “You’d never do that.”
“Yeah… You’re right. Never, ever,” She giggled back, realizing she may have threatened that one too many times now for it to hold any weight.
By the time the pair made it back into town, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the road ahead in a soft golden glow. It was hard to imagine they’d been out for most of the day, but the aches beginning to set into Roxy’s legs certainly reminded her of the time they’d spent on the ice. While fun, skating was cruelly physically demanding.
No wonder they can dance around on stage for hours and make it look easy… Roxy got winded just thinking about it.
After a quick stop at the Sherwood to pick up her promised magazine, and an unpleasant encounter with Kendall’s old boss who practically begged him to take the night shift, the pair pulled up to the Knight’s abode. Grabbing the stuff from the back seat, the frontman reluctantly slid out of the driver’s seat and out onto the street while his assistant took her rightful place behind the wheel.
While waiting for him to enter his house before driving off, Kendall was cut off on the small section of cleared sidewalk by his little sister, dashing in the direction of Roxy’s car.
“Roxy, Roxy, Roxy! I need you to take me somewhere!” Small cross-body purse slung across one shoulder, Katie Knight tore down the path and into Dynamo’s passenger seat so swiftly it made the writer’s head spin.
Are all of the Knights that fast?
When Roxy didn’t respond quickly enough, Katie poked her in the arm, “Please? Please?”
Whatever it was, it must have been urgent. Katie usually avoided begging whenever possible, often choosing more surefire ways of getting what she wanted, like blackmail.
When she looked beyond the young girl, to Kendall through the window for some sort of answer, he just shrugged, then trudged back into the house before closing the front door.
“Uh, does your mom know you’re going out? It’s kinda late, Katie,” Roxy cautiously asked. She had no issue taking the young Knight anywhere she wanted to go, but Mrs. Knight was quite strict when it came to her kids and their curfews. Hell, Mrs. Knight thought Katie still needed a babysitter; There was no way she would cool with her daughter taking off at this time of day.
Katie and her brother rolled their eyes in the exact same annoying way, “Mom’s still out with her friends. She won’t get mad at you and she won’t get mad at me… Unless I get caught.”
Gripping the steering wheel, Roxy narrowed her eyes.
“And I’ll buy you the new edition of Pop Tiger!”
“Oh,” The writer loudly sucked in a breath to bug the girl sitting beside her. “Your brother beat you to it. It’s a good edition too - Joe Jonas mini-mag inside and everything, so don’t tell James! He’ll try and steal it from me.”
“Please?” Katie tried again, and the older girl made the mistake of glancing her way.
She knew better than to fall victim to the girl’s puppy dog eyes, but as Katie stared her down and puffed out an equally sad pout, Roxy felt utterly horrible for protesting. Big brown teary eyes and a quivering bottom lip really got to her, and Katie was certainly using that to her advantage; Even reaching out to the stereo’s controls and switching the music from one of the cassettes to a classical music channel that just happened to be playing a sad symphony.
That was the one thing that didn’t fly with Roxy, “Fine! Just leave my radio alone!”
Next to her, Katie hissed out a “Yes!” while eagerly clipping her seatbelt in, beaming, as the writer switched the settings back to how she liked them.
“Where to then?” Asked the driver, feeling a bit like a chauffeur, placing the car into drive.
Picking up her purse, Katie shook it, making what sounded like a large collection of coins inside clank together. “The arcade!”
***
Tucked away on an old, pothole-ridden side street in Downtown Duluth, the retro Lunarcade had been in operation for as long as the writer could remember. While she’d only been a handful of times with her father, and once at the end of the last year for a birthday party Dani had thrown, it always looked and sounded exactly the same.
Rows upon rows of aged video games filled the small hole-in-the-wall, flashing bright colors and releasing attention-grabbing sounds to try and draw in anyone who walked by. Newer games toward the front, older games toward the back, and a row of pinball machines right down the middle.
“This place hasn’t changed a bit,” Roxy thought out loud, finding it difficult to hear the thoughts in her head against the chatter of patrons, the pop station playing on the speakers overhead, and the sounds from the machines. Examining the space to try and remember where her favorite games were, she narrowly missed Katie darting off between the rows as if she were a bat out of hell.
The writer was a bit taken aback, I’m not that unpleasant to be around… Am I? before resigning to the fact that when she was Katie’s age, she also never wanted to be around her father whenever they went places together. Being right on the cusp of her teenage years while not quite able to be independent quite yet was probably hard enough for the young girl, so Roxy let it go, digging around in her mini backpack to try and find her wallet.
Of the few bills she had, she headed to the counter to break them and was greeted by a nice, young woman who happily gave her a small plastic cup full of quarters in exchange.
Soon enough, the writer was lost in a world of pixelated graphics, joysticks, and button mashing as she roamed up and down the aisles, stopping at whatever machines caught her eye. The narrow pathways were almost impossible to traverse, especially when multiple people crowded around a machine, but she managed well enough, expecting to bump into Kaite at some point.
While not much of a game player herself, she still had some fun, especially on a handful of the older machines she and her dad used to play when she was younger. She had even passed a few she remembered playing with Mag and Dani, stopping at her favorite, Space Invaders. Last time she was here, she’d set the high score and had been met with an eruption of celebration from her friends but now, as she popped her quarters into the coin slot, all she received was the game’s soundtrack.
Thirty seconds later, her character was dead, and she let out a displeased grumble. Not only was she out of practice, but when the score screen flashed by, she noticed ROX was nowhere to be found in the top ten.
Another handful of quarters and she performed better this time around, but still nowhere good enough to put her name up on the board with her Space Invaders-loving peers.
So there she stayed, until her quarter well ran dry, and she nearly kicked the leg of the machine out of frustration.
Maybe it’s time to back off… She cautioned herself, resigning to pull away from the restored rectangular machine and weave through the aisles to the snack counter for a consolation prize. Some M&M’s or a Peppy Cola should cheer me up…
As she rounded the corner, she accidentally bumped into a kid holding two canned sodas and managed to save one she knocked out of his hand from falling to the ground.
“Oh! I’m so sorry!” She told him, making sure he was balanced again before handing the cold can back over. “Are you alright?”
In response, the boy just smiled, running a hand through his dirty blond hair before taking the can back. “Yeah, all good. How about you, Miss?”
“All good,” Roxy parroted, waving one hand to show it was no big deal. “The pop should be alright, but if it explodes when you open it, come and find me. I’ll get you something else.”
As he opened his mouth to respond, someone cut him off. “Ray? What’s the hold-up?”
From one of the rows leading to the snack bar, a familiar voice called out to the boy Roxy presumed she was talking to. When she looked up from the boy in front of her, she and Katie locked eyes, and the young girl turned as white as a ghost - Save for the red forming on her already rosy cheeks.
No way…
Ray looked over his shoulder, a wicked grin forming on his face, “Hey! Sorry. I just bumped into this lady here. If you shake up the can before you open it, she said she’ll buy you a second one.”
“That’s not-”
Before Roxy could get another word out, Katie grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the many, many rows of the arcade, presumably hoping to get lost among the flashing lights and sounds again.
Forgetting her own quest for a snack, Roxy’s hand immediately flew to her back pocket, whipping out her phone and pressing the first number on her speed dial.
When the dial tone connected, she didn’t even wait for a greeting before she exploded over the receiver, “James, you are never going to believe what’s happening to me right now!”
His garbled, “What?” came through the speaker. “Is everything alright?”
“I think I just took Katie out on her first date!”
~
The car ride home was eerily silent, with neither Katie nor Roxy saying anything at all. No one even bothered to turn the radio on.
While she turned off the side street and back onto the main road, Roxy glanced over to Katie and tried to hide the obnoxious smile that had practically been plastered on her face since her realization Katie might have been on a date. There was nothing on Earth she wanted to talk about more at this moment; How they’d met, who asked who out, what she liked about him… On the other hand, it was clear Katie wanted to talk about anything else, based on the way she gripped her seatbelt until her knuckles were white and stared out the window.
It was oddly reminiscent of the conversation she and her father had while on their road trip, except now the roles were reversed. Roxy made a mental note to apologize to her dad again later.
After a few more minutes of speechless agony, Roxy decided to break the silence. “I’m not going to ask you about it if you don’t want to talk about it…”
No response from Katie, just another thousand-yard stare out the window.
“...But I promise if you do, I won't tell your brother anything. That’s kind of a central tenet of girl code.”
The mention of Kendall seemed to make the girl tense up again, so Roxy decided to drop the subject entirely. If her words were going to do more harm than good, the least she could do was shut up for the remainder of the ride.
With a soft clearing of her throat, Roxy switched the stereo on as she navigated back to the Knight’s residence. “What Goes Around…/…Comes Around (Interlude)” by Justin Timberlake surrounded them and the writer eagerly hummed along.
Not even halfway through the song, her passenger reached out and switched it off - which still annoyed the shit out of Roxy - before letting out a large sigh.
“How did you know you liked James?”
The driver blinked, the question catching her off guard, and she glanced over to see Katie looking back at her with wide eyes. She’d never been this vulnerable with her before, normally all of Katie’s questions were about the entertainment industry or asking if Roxy wanted a new manager in six years.
As she thought back to the beginnings of her relationship, a bit of heat licked up her spine. Was it embarrassing? Sure, but Katie had asked in such earnest, that it would be wrong of her not to share.
“Well…” Roxy began, struggling to put her feelings into words. “I realized I liked him when we flew back out to Los Angeles together. He was so determined to make his dream a reality, which was inspiring in itself, but he was also very adamant that I was along for the ride with him.”
From the corner of her eye, she noticed Katie nodding, but the young girl didn’t say anything, so she continued on.
“He took care of me on the flight over, he comforted me the first night in our apartment, he stood up for me at Hawk Records… And when we reunited with the other guys at Rocque Records he was just so happy. When I saw his smiling face it just… clicked. But, honestly, I think it took me quite some time to figure that out. Maybe… I’d liked him since the night of the dance, but I was too stubborn to let myself realize it.”
More nods, but at least Katie had uncrossed her arms.
“And, he’s not too bad on the eyes…” Roxy joked, reaching over to elbow her friend when she finally snorted out a laugh. “Whenever we’re in a room together it’s like we gravitate toward each other. And, God, Katie, he makes me laugh all the time, and my heart beat at a million miles an hour, and when we kiss-”
“Alright! Enough! Enough!” Katie cried as her hands flew to cover her ears, sticking her tongue out in disgust followed by an overexaggerated “Blegh!”
Her reaction made the writer crack up so hard that she nearly missed the turn into the neighborhood, whipping Dynamo around the corner far faster than he was built for.
“You asked!” She protested, just to bug Katie again. “But in all seriousness… It’s hard to describe - I just know that I do. I can’t imagine my life without him. I don’t want to imagine my life without him.”
That statement was followed by more silence, and Roxy feared she may have gone a bit too far with her answer, until Katie shifted around in her seat, playing with the zipper on her purse. “I don’t think I like Ray like that.”
“And that’s perfectly fine! That’s what dates are for, to give you time to figure it out.”
“If he asks me out again, what do I say?” This question was asked in a far less confident manner.
Just as they pulled up to the Knight’s, Roxy put the car into park and turned to face the girl, “You tell him the truth. That you had fun today, but you’re just not interested in him like that. If he cares about you, he’ll understand.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
Roxy’s heart sank at the thought, but she played it off as best she could with a smile, “Then you call me or your brother and we’ll wrangle the other three up. That goes for anyone who doesn’t give you the respect you deserve, okay?”
“Okay!” Katie agreed, finally seeming as though she was getting back to being her normal self. When she nudged the door open, she stepped out and turned back to Roxy, “...Thanks,” and shut it before the driver got a chance to respond.
“No problem,” Roxy chuckled to herself as she waited for Katie to get in the front door. Her drive home was also absent of music, but only because she was too busy thinking about James and all the reasons she loved being with him to notice.
***
When she got home, her dad had dinner on the table and the two shared a lovely meal as they recapped their days. By the time they’d finished, Declan migrated to the living room and flipped on a TV movie to watch before promptly falling asleep fifteen minutes in like he usually did. The only thing he ever managed to stay awake for these days was football.
Taking a spare blanket from their linen closet, Roxy draped it over him before turning the appliance and lights off before heading to her room for the remainder of the night.
Once she finished cleaning up and changing into the PJs the boys had bought her, she noticed a collection of text messages on her phone’s home screen from Jo and Camille.
J: Free soon? Miss you both and want to talk
C: yes! give me five to get away from this hectic house and I’ll set up a conference
J: Yesss!
J: Roxy? Yoo hoo?
C: probably too busy macking on her boyfriend…
R: HEY!
R: AM NOT!
R: EVEN IF I’D REALLY LIKE TO BE!
J: BWAHAHAH
R: But yes! I’m free! Call!!!!
A minute later Camille’s ringtone, Beyoncé’s “Crazy In Love,” came through her phone’s speakers and the pair exchanged an excited greeting. They only paused their chatter for a moment while the actress added Jo to the line and waited for her to pick up, only for their greetings to repeat.
All three of them were buzzing with information to share about their respective trips; So many things had happened over the last few days that were just too difficult to convey over a text message.
Jo and Camille elected Roxy to go first, mostly because they wanted to hear about Kendall and Logan. While Roxy hadn’t heard much from her studious friend since he’d landed back home, she was happy to share about their chaotic Christmas saga, her date with James, her skate session with Kendall, and most importantly, Katie’s date.
“...So yeah, we might have to give her the dating talk when we all get back to Hollywood. Only if she brings it up again! It seemed like it was hard for her to talk about,” Roxy concluded, as she cradled her phone between her cheek and shoulder, filing her nails. She was long overdue for a manicure. “Which color should I go with? Blue or yellow?”
“Blue!” Jo answered at the same time Camille responded, “Yellow!”
The three erupted in a fit of giggles.
“We’ll keep a lookout for guys her age at our auditions, won’t we Jo?” The ravenette asked.
“Duh! I’m pretty sure there’s a guy on the fifth floor she plays video games with, too. Kendall was pretty suspicious but I managed to convince him otherwise… As Roxy began to apply the first coat of paint, alternating colors on each finger, Camille went next. Her holiday had been chaotic as well, but purely because of the sheer amount of people her family had decided to house in New Windsor, Connecticut. On top of Camille, her parents, and five brothers, they had three additional guests in the five-bedroom home which made it virtually impossible for anyone to get any peace and quiet.
“Things are dying down, so it’s not all that bad. Gabriel and his husband are leaving tomorrow, so we’ll be down two. My mom almost had a fit though - crying about how she never gets to see them.”
Camille’s oldest brother and his husband lived in upstate New York, both plastic surgeons with busy, busy schedules. She had said it was a miracle they’d even been able to get a few days off to come down and visit.
“Elliott, Claude, and their roommates Roshan and Asa are staying until January like me. Even that was a lot for her to take in. She’s acting like we’ve already left! I have no idea what she does while we’re all gone but I know it drives Jules and Jean-Luc crazy.”
Elliott and Claude, twins, and their roommates had come home from college to spend the break together. Jules, only a year older than Camille, was finishing up his last year of high school before joining his brothers at Northeastern University. Jean-Luc was in the transitional stage between graduating and trying to find his first career-oriented job, so he was often around the most to see to Camille’s mother while she and her father were away in Hollywood.
It was hard to process all of this while Camille was talking. Each time she threw out a new name, Roxy had to go through her mental list and recall everything she had shared about them over the course of their friendship. While it was rare she talked about her family, what she did share was chock-full of information about each and every member.
“And you’ll never believe this…” Camille continued in a hush, as Jo and Roxy both let out a teasing, “Ooh!”
The writer could imagine the blush forming on her friend’s porcelain cheeks; Judging by her tone, this was a voice she only brought out when talking about Logan, so maybe something had developed on that front after their abrupt break up in October.
“Roshan asked if I wanted to go to a New Year’s party with him and I think I might say yes. I’ve been waiting for Logan to forgive me for so long… I don’t know-”
On the other line, Jo squealed, “Camille! If you want to go, just go! It’s only a party. With college guys!”
Roxy was still frozen mid-stroke, undoubtedly overloading her ring finger with far too much of the electric blue polish she had found in her bathroom. Oh, God. What’s Logan going to think…
“Yeah!” She chimed in, trying to sound as excited as Jo. “Sounds super low-stakes and you can get to know him better.”
Maybe some part of her was hoping she and Logan would get back together, but Camille was right, it wasn’t up to her at all. Logan was still working through what had happened between them, which was perfectly understandable, but she also knew how Camille was bouncing from one thing to the next. Being stationary for too long made her anxious, hence her penchant for jumping from different types of creative projects to another. If she was tired of waiting for him to make his decision, of course she was thinking of moving on.
“Like I said, I don’t know… It feels a bit quick, but I still have a bit to decide. I’ll keep you both updated, though… And that’s all for my turn, you next, Jo!”
Camille, spotlight lover, wasn’t always quick to turn the conversation away from herself, which told Roxy she was still a bit anxious about her decision, even if she was only in the beginning stages of making it.
By the silence on the other line, she could tell Jo sensed it too, but soon enough, she began to report on her time in North Carolina.
Like she had predicted, being back home was a mess. Between seeing her estranged mother and sister, which she was dreading, it was even worse because they’d brought along her mother’s new boyfriend. “Who brings a guy you just met to a family holiday?!” But, she was more than ecstatic to see her grandmother and said they’d spent the majority of their time together. Not only had she learned a new cookie recipe she was dying to make for her friends, but she and her grandma were learning to knit together.
“It’s a bit old lady for me, but I’m making a beanie for Kendall… I hope he likes it.”
“Of course he will, he practically lives in them!” Roxy cut in, finally moving onto her second coat after saving what she could of her ring finger. “Especially if you hand make it… Are you kidding me? So romantic!”
Hearing Camille’s laugh after nothing from her line the last few minutes was comforting. “He’s at the ice rink, like, all the time, right? That’s a perfect gift!”
“Ugh, I hope so. I’ve been so stressed making it, I just want it to be perfect. All this time away from him is making me realize how much he means to me…” There was a long, noticeable pause on her end, but neither girl cut in. “I think I love him.”
Camille and Roxy screamed. So loud, it wouldn’t have shocked any of them if the sound waves had traveled all the way to Marion, North Carolina from Duluth and New Haven without the use of a telephone.
Heart pounding at her friend’s confession, Roxy’s chest felt like a balloon had swelled inside. “Love?!” She cried. “My best friend is in love?!”
“She’s in love!” Camille confirmed, “Lovely, lovely, love!”
It sounded like Jo was about to add something on, when the sound of Roxy’s bedroom door flying open interrupted, and her half-asleep father stood in the doorway, blanket halfway on the ground, with a baseball bat. “Wha-?”
Of course, he hadn’t meant to scare her, but he most certainly did, and the bottle of pale yellow polish dropped from her hand and all over her floral-covered duvet.
“Dad!” She yelled, heart now pounding from excitement and fear, but she couldn’t care less about the mess she’d made. “Jo’s in love! She loves Kendall!”
“I think!” The blonde added on, but it was mostly drowned out by Camille’s never-ending hoots and hollers.
“Oh,” was all her dad managed, setting the bat down in the hallway once he determined his daughter was okay and tugging the blanket back over his shoulders. Declan raked a hand through his long hair. “Alright then, congratulations, darling.”
For a moment, he stood there and rubbed his eyes, before reaching out and blowing Roxy a kiss, closing her door again. Jo let out an intelligible sound from her end of the line and Roxy promised, “He’s the only person I’ll tell! I swear!”
“And you!” Called Camille, and all three of them knew she was speaking directly to Jo. “You better tell him when you give him the beanie!”
“No promises!” Jo bit back, and Roxy imagined the grin taking up her beautiful features. “But… That does seem like the best time to tell him.”
***
Hardly able to sleep after learning such valuable information from her best friends, Roxy was tossing and turning all night thinking about Jo’s confession. How lucky she was to be experiencing such a euphoric feeling, one she could not only put into words but felt as though she needed to share with her partner.
One day, I’ll feel like that too. Just the thought of it made her giddy.
It was a bit of a shock when her phone rang early in the morning again, the opening chords to “The Scientist” by Coldplay this time, signaling something was up with Logan.
When she answered, her voice was a bit groggy from sleep, but she did her best to put on a cheery tone.
Turns out, Logan wanted to go shopping, citing a major sale at the Duluth mall, but he didn’t want to go alone. “I’ll drive and everything, my mother is off work and said we can take her car if you’d like.”
Sale at the mall? Roxy didn’t need to be asked twice before she hopped out of bed and pulled something on, meeting her friend outside about fifteen minutes later.
Logan’s mother’s car was a far nicer ride than Dynamo was, which was to be said about most vehicles, but for her first time in a BMW, she was thoroughly enjoying it. No blown-out speakers, peeling leather seats, cracked windshields, or broken gauges, just pure luxury in the passenger seat as Logan flew down the open road.
He was a much more reserved driver in Los Angeles, probably due to the sheer amount of other crazy drivers in the area, but back home, he was quite the speed demon. Maybe it was the rap station on the radio inspiring him or maybe he was more comfortable with the city’s roads, but they’d made it to the mall far quicker than she ever would have.
Gotta love an after-holiday sale… She thought as he pulled her through the parking lot and into the first department store that caught his eye.
The shopping trip had honestly lasted a lot longer than she’d expected; She felt a bit bad they hadn’t invited James along with them either. Apparently, Logan had accumulated quite the chunk of Christmas cash from his relatives and had decided to revamp his wardrobe.
And by “revamp” he mostly meant refresh - The sweaters and cardigans he already owned were getting rotated out for fresh new ones in the same neutral tones he loved. How he could wear these during the Los Angeles summer, she never understood, but that was what he preferred, so no one questioned him differently. However, she was able to convince him to let her pick an outfit out for him, something out of his ordinary closet with more of a “cool” vibe.
Black leather jacket, a nice pair of shades, some tight jeans…
As they passed by rack after rack, sometimes Roxy would stop and pick something up as well, but her clothing choices were more appropriate for the California heat. James’ words from the other night stuck with her, so he was mostly making sure her items appropriately showed off her legs in a way that still made her feel confident and beautiful, while also potentially riling him up a bit.
They even had what felt like a silly teen movie montage, trying on all of their outfits one by one in the dressing room and coming out to show the other to get opinions or change pieces out for ones that fit them better.
By the time they’d covered almost the entire mall front to back, each of them was sufficiently shopped out and stopped by the food court for a little snack - What was a trip to the mall without some pretzels? - before hopping back in the BMW and heading back to their corner of town.
“My moms are dying to see you again,” He confessed to her, never taking his eyes off the road, over the Dr. Dre track playing in the background. “Humor them and come over for dinner?”
Roxy wasn’t aware she had made such an impact on them back at their Duluth Big Time Rush show, considering she’d been a bit too preoccupied with James on her mind to really feel as though she was present in the moment. Both Sabina and Joanna mostly kept to themselves, but if she recalled they had a brief conversation about how well Logan was doing in Hollywood. They cared for him so much, and it was evident to the girl after one conversation with them, so there wasn’t any point in not stopping by to see them again.
“Yeah, sure! That sounds wonderful,” She told him, watching as they passed the road into her neighborhood and down a few blocks to his.
Logan beamed, tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the song, “Mom’s at work showing a house right now, but Mother has the afternoon off, which is rare. It feels like the hospital always needs her…”
The last time she’d been in Duluth, she’d brought up how strange it was for all five of them to live so close to each other, but never have met until their audition to James, and as they turned into Logan’s street, that statement felt even more true than before. He was probably a ten-minute walk from her, but state boundary lines had zoned her for a different high school.
My life would certainly be much different had I met them earlier, Roxy concluded, though she wasn’t quite sure how. Maybe they’ve saved me from my terrible band and we would’ve started our own sooner…
She didn’t have much more time to consider it, because when they pulled up to Logan’s house, Roxy’s jaw visibly dropped.
Mansion was a more accurate description of the sprawling two-story abode they pulled into the driveway of, opening one of two garages for Logan to park the BMW in. It was nearly impossible for her to get a good look at the entire home; the bright white paneling from ground to roof was so clean it was blinding and stood out gorgeously against the black and tan wood accents around the doors and windows. Of the other mansion she’d been to in her life, she’d already preferred this one’s modern style of architecture to the Spanish style of Gustavo’s.
Of course, to Logan, this was a sight he’d seen millions of times, so when he popped open the car door and motioned toward the door that would lead them inside, he forgot to let Roxy take a moment to process.
“Wow,” She breathed, finally managing to join him in the spacious garage, then the laundry room attached, and finally into the open kitchen space. “It must’ve sucked to move into the Palm Woods…”
The way her voice echoed off the high ceilings startled her, as she turned in place to take the impressive space in.
“What do you mean?” He asked her, cocking his head while he opened the fridge to grab two cans of soda. “I get to live with my best friends… What more could I ever want?”
Ugh, he’s so sweet, Roxy thought, following her friend into the living room and down a large hallway, before he stopped at a closed door and knocked a few times. Maybe your own room, or a gigantic kitchen, or a sweet ride-
“Come in!” came a cheery voice from inside, and the boy managed to press down on the handle despite both of his hands being full.
When the pair stepped in, bookshelf after bookshelf surrounded them, completely covering the space from floor to ceiling - save the section towards the outside of the house and its massive bay window.
What Roxy would give to curl up in James’ lap and read a book in the warm, shining sun…
“Hey, I’m home!” He called out among the shelves, peering down each long column they passed, “Brought a friend.”
“Hi!” Roxy tentatively called out as well, thinking it might be rude if she didn’t announce her presence right then and there.
There was the sound of shuffling feet, and a few rows down, Sabina popped her head around one of the shelves, blazing blue eyes sparking the minute she laid eyes on her son. “Logie-Bear! You brought Roxanne!”
“Don’t act like you’re more excited to see her than me…” He trailed off, speeding over to trap her in a hug. The way he buried his head in the crook of his mother’s neck was likely to hide his embarrassment from the silly nickname.
It was a bit of an awkward embrace, considering his full hands, and the giant medical textbook Sabina was attempting to keep her place in, but they made it work in their own strange way.
“Thanks for having me,” The writer blurted out. It had been a long, long time since she’d been invited over to someone’s house. “You have such a lovely home.”
“That’s what a life of hard work and dedication will get ya!” Sabina winked, taking her arm from around Logan’s shoulders and pulling Roxy into a hug as well. “Both of you are right on track for that, huh?”
Is she talking about being in a band? Or Logan being a doctor?
Both kids nodded, watching as the woman tucked an old Polaroid photo of her, her wife, and Logan on her page then set her book back onto the nearest shelf, making sure the volume she was reading was in the correct numeral spot. The dark tan binding blended almost perfectly with her tan skin. “How does butter chicken sound for dinner? Your mom told me she was craving it earlier.”
As a guest, Roxy had no say in whatever was being made, she was simply along for the ride. Logan’s eyes widened in response, and his nodding from before grew more invigorated; A good sign if Roxy’d ever seen one.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” She offered, now following Sabina and Logan from the library back to the kitchen, knowing her culinary skills weren’t as impressive as they could be.
Almost drowned out by the sound of her heels clicking on the tile floors, Sabina smiled over her shoulder, “Aren’t you just a doll for asking?! How about you and Logie go fetch some vegetables from the garden? I just know the two of you will make a wonderful salad…”
The garden? One almost completely covered in snow?
Logan must’ve seen the confusion written all over his friend’s face, so he wordlessly set the sodas he had grabbed down on the kitchen counter and looped his arm through Roxy’s, leading her away from the kitchen and through another long hallway. When they came upon two large glass doors, showing a breathtaking winter landscape in the backyard, she dug her heels into the ground.
“You’re crazy if you think I’m going out there without my big coat! I’m all Los Angeles acclimatized now!”
“Roxy, I promise you can handle, like, thirty seconds in the cold.”
He didn’t wait for her reply, simply opening the door and tugging her through, and leading down a nicely shoveled cobblestone path to the side of the white home. All the while, she huddled into him, trying to steal as much of his body heat as physically possible - Though she almost missed the immaculately manicured bushes and pine trees covered in a light dusting of last night’s snow.
Out over the large expanse of yard he showed her through, she noticed a small, frozen river running along what she assumed was the back line of the property that separated off into a large section of woods. No fence surrounding everything suggested they weren’t too worried about animals coming through and stealing their food. As they rounded the corner, she noticed some neglected-looking patio furniture, probably all soaking wet and frozen cushions, and some flower pots, completely empty.
If the flower pots are empty-
“Here we are!” Logan announced, and Roxy turned from where she was looking to take note of a medium-sized structure, constructed floor to ceiling with transparent, fogged glass panes. A door in the center opened as he pushed in on it, and soon enough the pair were out of the winter weather and back into something that felt a lot more like Hollywood than she’d ever expected in the Midwest.
In front of them, four carefully constructed rows of soil were dug in the ground, running straight back from where they stood. Various gardening supplies, and the overwhelming smell of manure, surrounded Roxy and Logan as they searched the personal greenhouse for the necessary ingredients.
“I think lettuce is over there…” Logan vaguely pointed off to the right, and Roxy followed his directions and took the farthest row to search, more than happy to spend as much time in the cozy, warm space as possible. “And tomatoes and cucumbers should be over here…” Taking off in the opposite direction.
None of the plants were labeled, and she certainly didn’t have any gardening experience, so she gently lifted large leaves to see if they were bearing any other vegetables she thought might go well in a salad, before realizing she had no idea what lettuce looked like if it wasn’t sitting on the shelf in a grocery store.
Thankfully, however, she happened upon a green, leafy plant she was 90% sure was a head of lettuce and squatted down to attempt to harvest it. Just as she reached out, she heard a soft mrow, and a jet-black cat with the biggest green eyes she’d ever seen sauntered through the vegetation and rubbed up against her outstretched hand.
Like the greenhouse, the cat was warm against her skin, eagerly awaiting for her to continue petting its soft fur as if it were trying to capture all of her attention.
“Uh, Logan?” She hesitantly called, but it seemed as though he was already making his way over to her with the tomato and cucumber he had been looking for.
“Hm?” He mumbled, preoccupied with the food in his hands before the cat let out another mrow. “Hippocrates?”
From where she squatted on the floor, still petting the gorgeous cat, she looked up and cocked an eyebrow at him.
“What? He’s the father of medicine!”
Roxy just let out a chuckle in response, deciding to sit down on the least dusty part of the cobblestone path lining and coax Hippocrates over with a “Psst, psst, psst!”
Soon enough, the salad ingredients were all but forgotten when the animal settled down between her crossed legs, batting up at the fingers she dangled over him. “You never mentioned you had a cat! And such a cutie-patootie one at that!”
The boy just rolled his eyes at her baby talk as they continued to play together.
“Such a pretty kitty! Pretty kitty!” Roxy continued, now tickling his soft belly as he continued to play with her other hand. “With your fur so black it’s almost blue? You remind me of-”
Immediately she snapped her mouth shut, eyes widening, before she managed to say Camille’s name. It was not smooth in the slightest, and she noticed the way Logan temporarily froze while he was working on getting the head of lettuce off the underground stalk.
Before she got the chance to apologize, the boy cleared his throat and got back to work, speaking in a hushed tone, “You can say ‘Camille.’ It’s not like some magic spell that’ll ward me off or something.”
“Ah… Then you’re far better than me. I still cringe whenever I hear Dak’s name,” Roxy responded, after giving Hippocrates some more tummy tickles to combat the turning of her stomach. “Even saying it just then made me feel nauseous.”
“So, you’re telling me it won’t get better? At all? Rox, it’s been months since you and Dak broke up.”
“If you can even call what we had a relationship…” The writer chuckled.
Is it me or is the greenhouse getting hotter?
Shifting uncomfortably, she hoped that would be the end of the conversation as Logan continued hacking away at the lettuce with the small tool he held in his hand.
“She and I weren’t together much longer. Well, not officially.”
“You two always did have that infuriating ‘will-they, won’t they’ thing going on.”
“Oh, you’re one to talk!” He jokingly spit back, before removing the leafy greens and moving to sit beside her, reaching over to give Hippocrates a few scratches on the head. “Whatever you and James were doing was so much worse.”
Doing her best not to disturb the cat in her lap, Roxy shoved her shoulder into Logan’s with a shy smile. “That’s not the point of this conversation. If you’re asking me how I got over being cheated on, just go ahead and ask.”
“Doesn’t sound like you’re over it to me…” Logan said, shoving his shoulder back into hers and startling Hippocrates to his feet. In a flash, he took off between the leaves again, off to find another warm corner of the greenhouse to curl up in.
Roxy let out an offended gasp, “Of course I am! I wrote a song about it, made a lot of money, got to perform it at every show, and I have a super ultra-hot boyfriend who is way better than Dak ever would’ve been to me. I’m totally all well-adjusted about it and stuff.”
Their laughter roared through the space, bouncing off the glass walls until they were leaning on each other for support, gasping for air at Roxy’s ridiculously shallow statement. Two of the tomatoes Logan had been gathering up to take back inside rolled off his lap and off under one of the tables holding the innumerable gardening supplies, and Roxy had to use her quick reflexes to save the cucumber from the same fate.
As he helped her off the ground, and they gathered up everything they had taken from the garden, Roxy stopped him before they ran through the freezing backyard and back into the house.
“I’m not an expert or anything, but I think you just need to give it time. It might be something you think about a lot - and I mean a lot - right now, but in a few months, eventually you’ll start to think about it less and less, until eventually, you don’t think about it at all. The pain may seem permanent now, but I promise it isn’t everlasting.”
Logan bumped his shoulder into hers again with a small smile. “Thanks, Rox… And you’re right, I have been thinking about it a lot and…”
His tone matched that of Camilles on their phone call last night; She knew exactly what he was about to say, and her heart dropped to her stomach. “It might be time for me to branch out, you know? Expand my horizons a little bit. Do you think it’s too soon for me to think about maybe seeing someone else?”
Rolling the cucumber between both of her hands, Roxy tried poorly to hide her audible gulp. “No, of course not. If you think that’s what you need to do… that’s what you need to do.”
“It’s just a thought!” He followed up, quickly enough for her to think he didn’t really mean what he was saying. Maybe something was still keeping him tied to Camille despite everything that had happened between them. “I don’t really know many other girls at the Palm Woods… It’s always been Camille.”
“Any girl at the Palm Woods, or elsewhere, would be lucky to have you, Logan,” His assistant shared, in earnest. “And I’m here for you, no matter what you decide.”
When they reached the door, that conversation came to its natural conclusion, and the pair braced themselves for the harsh winter conditions awaiting them outside.
“Alright, ready?” Logan asked, slowly reaching toward the door to pull it open. At Roxy’s nod, he began to count down, “3… 2… 1… Go!”
The both of them took off toward the house, struggling to keep hold of all their vegetables as they ran laughing down the cobblestone path.
***
How Roxy let Carlos rope her into an early morning run, she didn’t know.
It had sounded like a good idea when he’d called her last night while she sprawled out on her bed, attempting to digest the delicious meal Sabina had put together for her, Logan, and Joanna.
“I’m never eating that much again!” She’d promised him, agreeing to his request to take a run around his neighborhood. “I’m going to need to work all this off if I don’t want Jo to kick my ass at the gym this week.”
Carlos’ giggles burst through the other line, “Sounds like a plan then! I’ll see you in the morning at Kamford Gardens. Oh! And I’m bringing a friend, hope you don’t mind.”
Not at all, Roxy figured after they’d hung up. If she was already going to meet the other members of the boys’ hockey team at the New Year’s party, there was no harm in getting to know another new face. I wonder what they’ll be like.
From the brief bits and pieces Roxy heard about the band’s life before fame, all four of them had been quite popular; It came with the territory of being some of the best athletes on the school's most important sports team.
At Twin Oaks, Roxy’s first high school, that sport had been football, and it was no secret that the players on the team were given special treatment by just about anyone they came in contact with. From students, to teachers, to admin… Everyone wanted some sort of connection with their hometown sports stars. Though it was a sweeping generalization, she assumed the treatment at Mountain Aire was similar for those talented enough to make the hockey team.
Now, Roxy sat under the large gazebo on the outskirts of the park, waiting for Carlos and his friend to arrive so they could get a move on. After the run, she was planning on heading home to freshen up and meet with James for a date.
Most of the snow was still piled high from the storm a few days ago, but the city had done a wonderful job at clearing and salting the paved trail around the park. No major ice patches or dangerous snowbanks should stand in their way during their workout and they had the privilege of taking in the incredible sites around them. Roxy had never been to Kamford, but Carlos was pretty adamant that it be the location for their run. Wide sprawling fields, a slowly melting lake, and plenty of benches along the trail made Roxy a tad nostalgic for the park closer to her house. It was a staple for her and her father when they were younger; At times he was off work early they’d often take a few laps around the area before bed to work off any excess energy.
You certainly don’t get sights like this in Los Angeles… Sure, Griffith Park was nice, but nothing felt as homey and familiar as the snow-covered scene before her. Roxy could do without the shivering, however, considering all of her workout clothing had been purchased in California. As she jammed her hands into the thin pockets of her sage green windbreaker, she prayed the thermal leggings she’d dug out of her drawer would be enough to keep her warm until they began their run.
“Roxyyy!” Someone called from behind her, and she quickly stood from the park bench she was sitting on. A small twinge of anxiety bolted through her, hopefully Carlos’ friend is nice, when she turned to face him.
The first thing she noticed was his outfit - shorts, t-shirt, no helmet, despite the below-freezing temperatures turning their exposed bits of skin bright red. Second, his bright, dazzling smile as he jogged over to her. And third, the large dog running beside him, attached to a hot pink leash and matching collar. It stood out nicely against its snow-white coat, littered with black dots, and hot pink booties around all four paws.
By the time they caught up, Carlos almost crashed Roxy into a hug when he failed to slow down fast enough, which the dog was more than eager to join in on, jumping up on back paws to try and be a part of the action.
After a cordial greeting between the two friends, the Dalmatian leapt up onto the bench beside them, as if it were waiting to be introduced to the writer.
“And this is Missy!” Carlos shared, petting down between his dog’s ears. Lazily, Missy’s tongue rolled out of her mouth, as though she were smiling, like she understood she was the center of the conversation. “She’s our little ball of energy - She knows this place like the back of her paw!”
Just as Roxy had geeked over Logan’s cat, her smile grew about a million times wider as her hands flew to scratch behind Missy’s velvety ears. “Hi, Missy! Are you coming for a little run with us today?”
The dog practically melted into her touch, turning her head from side to side like she was trying to decide where the best scratches were coming from.
“Oh, no,” Her friend informed her, tugging once on the leash to coax Missy down off the bench. “We’re going for a run with her.”
Roxy swore the dog must’ve been fluent in English, because as soon as her owner finished his sentence, she took off toward the path, tugging him along with her.
“Alright then… Here we go!” The writer laughed, breaking out in a run to catch up to her friend. “Show us all the good spots then, Missy!”
And show them the good spots she did, after one continuous lap around the large lake. That dog sure knew she was in charge, leading them down a marked trail through the woods for a bit of off-road action, before pulling them back toward the playground and gazebo again.
Since she and the boys rarely worked out together - the schedule Gustavo and Mr. X had them stick to was a bit too strict for her liking - she had forgotten just how fast Carlos was. On top of his insane hockey player stamina, he was also the fastest of their four friends, as evidenced by the Palm Woods Invitational All-Terrain Disc-Cathlon Classic he had won earlier in the year, all while carrying his assistant on his back. It was a struggle to keep up sometimes, but Roxy held her own and imagined Missy slowed the pace down just for her.
Lungs burning, eyes watering, hands freezing, they finally came to a stop right back at where they’d started about twenty minutes later - Missy hopping back up onto the bench for pets as she panted away, while Carlos and Roxy obliged her wishes and took a breather, trying to come down from their runner’s high.
“This is her favorite place, I swear!” The boy said through labored breaths. “And she hasn’t run like that in a while! She must really like you.”
The assistant weighed the pros and cons of laying on the paved concrete floor below them, wondering if it would ease the growing ache in her legs. “Well, I like her too… But I also really hate her for working us so hard!” Missy barked, as though she resented the statement. “She’d get along great with Lighting, you know.”
Scoffing, Carlos checked his watch, before clicking his tongue a few times to get the Dalmatian back off the bench. “I’m not letting my precious baby girl anywhere near that womanizer!”
A growl rolled out of Missy’s throat, suggesting she also hated the idea as well, before she began to tug on the leash again, wanting to check out one of the snowbanks beside the gazebo.
“I certainly don’t need the two of you ganging up on me…” Huffed Roxy, slowly trailing along after the two as the dog sniffed around, lazily meandering down the path.
Though it was still quite early, more and more people were starting to head onto the park grounds to enjoy the nice weather - nice weather for Minnesota at least. A few more dogs as well, who Missy nearly bounded over to in order to play, while Carlos and Roxy made polite small talk with their owners. On top of the views, that was something else Minnesota had Los Angeles beat on: Everyone was always so friendly.
Maybe I just needed to get out of here for a while to appreciate just how nice Duluth is.
When Missy decided she was done playing, she trotted back over to Roxy and Carlos, tongue lolling and tail wagging back and forth a mile a minute while she patiently waited to be clipped back onto her leash.
“Did you have a good time, Missy?” Roxy asked, baby voice and all as she ran her hand down the Dalmatian’s smooth coat. “It looks like you’re getting tired!” Again, the dog must have understood exactly what Roxy was saying, because in response, she tugged on the leash and led the two back onto the path they’d just run, sniffing down the path while she dragged them around.
Carlos reached out and swatted her ponytail, “You can’t say the t-word around her! If she thinks we’re going home, she always tries to extend her walk.”
“I thought the t-word was ’treat’?”
Missy stopped her sniffing and looked back over her shoulder.
“That’s one of them!” The boy sighed, and reached into his pocket for a small baggie of round dog treats, extending one out to his assistant.
She scrunched her nose up, “No, thanks. Not a fan of that flavor.”
“You said it, you give it to her,” Carlos informed her, whistling Missy back toward them. “And, they don't actually taste that bad if you want one.”
An unpleasant image of Carlos guzzling dog treats filled her mind. Yuck.
The feeling of Missy’s tongue licking around her fingers to capture the treat shocked her against the cold feeling her fingers had gotten used to.
“Aw, ew! She’s all slobbery,” The girl cried, shaking her hand around in the air to try and relieve the unpleasant sensation before her eyes landed on her laughing friend. “What do you think you’re laughing at?”
Carlos just kept wheezing, and it was riling Missy up when he bent over to hug his sides. However, he didn’t find it as funny when Roxy held out her palm, wiggling her fingers, and attempted to wipe it off on the sleeve of his shirt. In fact, he quickly realized he’d need to run away from her, taking Missy with him, as she chased after him with her slobber-covered hand.
Neither of them had noticed just how far they’d gotten on the park trail until they reached the edge of the paved area, running along the smooth stoned sides of the melting creek. At one point, they’d even hopped over one of the narrow parts, despite the desperate plea of her heart to slow down, for a while before eventually getting back on the correct trail.
“Just… Use the water!” Carlos eventually called over his shoulder, motioning to his left at the small amount of runoff coming from the melting snow, and his assistant had no choice but to take his suggestion even if the slobber was frozen to her fingers at this point.
Her footsteps slowed, until she was eventually able to ease herself into a stop, and she squatted down to let the water run over her hand. Of course, it had been as cold as she had been expecting, but it didn’t stop her from flinching the moment the sensation hit her fingertips. “Dude, I think there’s something swimming around in here!”
From a few feet away, the boy turned his head to the side, “Really?” and took a few steps closer before bending down to see what his assistant was talking about.
With a snicker, Roxy raised her hand from the water and flicked her fingers toward him, covering his face in the snowy runoff. “Ha! Gotcha!”
A small gasp of surprise left his lips, but it didn’t take him any more than a second to dip his hand into the stream and splash Roxy as well, giggling just as loud as she was.
Even Missy wanted to get in on the fun, splashing into the river with her hot pink booties and causing the other two to scramble away from her as she jumped around. A few more rounds back and forth, both of them too focused on the task at hand while they tormented each other, neither of them noticed the tags on her collar jingle back and forth as she began to shake off the water on her coat.
When she had gotten so wet, Roxy and Carlos didn’t know, but soon they were pelted as the water jetted off her fur, cold little bombs erupted on their clothing and skin when each drop hit. Soon enough, they’d forgotten they were even messing with each other; Instead, they clutched onto each other as they ran to the closest path of wood they could find that wasn’t covered in snow, and collapsed together into a dripping, giggling mess.
Of course, Missy wasn’t far behind, and she practically launched herself into their laps, willfully begging for pets as the two finally allowed themselves a moment of rest together.
“Oh, God, I’m exhausted,” The writer announced, running one more hand down Missy’s back before collapsing back onto the forest floor behind her. Pine trees surrounded them, blocking out most of her view of the sky, but a few white patches poked through, likely promising another snowfall later in the day. “We’re not allowed to run together anymore…”
“Aw!” Carlos whined, plopping down beside her and poking her cheek. “I’ve got memories with all my favorite people at this park. Figured it wouldn’t hurt to make one with you too… But if it was that bad-”
She cut him off by driving a hand into his side, “I didn’t know that! I take it back, I swear!”
“Nope… It’s too late,” He pretended to sniffle, bringing a hand under his eyes as he wiped away his crocodile tears. “The damage has been done.”
“No! Now you need to tell me!” She fought back, coaxing Missy over to cuddle with her. “List. Now. Starting with ‘Fight with Roxy’ at the top, then…”
“Then, coming here almost every day after elementary school with my sisters. We’d wait here after school for mom to come pick us up, and sometimes the ice cream man would come by and they’d get me one of those messed up-looking popsicles with the gumball eyes.”
Roxy had only come into contact with Carlos’ three older sisters, Maria, Lupe, and Alena, but from what she knew about them, that tracked. They’d gushed over him backstage at their Duluth concert, so she imagined he’d been getting similar treatment now that he was back home.
“And next… Probably playing flag football over the summers with James! Those big fields are perfect for sports when they’re not covered with snow,” He grinned, “Ah, so you’re not just hockey heads, you’re ballers too?”
“Just the two of us… Logan didn’t like the rules and Kendall is hockey loyal. But! Logan and I used to run up and down the river here and catch little crayfish critters sometimes. And Kendall was here when I ran into a tree with my bike and gave myself this super nasty concussion!”
Shifting up onto one arm, still petting Missy with the other, Roxy rolled over to look at him, “These are supposed to be good memories.”
Carlos blinked his big brown eyes, “But it is! Because for my next birthday, you’ll never believe what he got me.”
“Better breaks?”
“A helmet! All nice and shiny brand new… It was glorious!” He continued to gush, smiling up at the clouds. “I’d just turned ten and I promised him I’d wear it for the rest of my life.”
His friend cocked a brow, “So you lied to him?”
Still staring upward as he lay on his back, Carlos reached out and captured her face in his palm, gently pushing her back down to the forest floor. “No. I grew out of it and got another one, then another one, then another one…”
As Carlos rattled on, Roxy half-tuned in as she tracked the movements of a crow hopping from branch to branch above them. She was almost jealous of him, getting to make so many good memories he was able to look back on fondly with his best friends about their hometown. Most of her favorite places here were stained with the memory of Mag and Dani, though she supposed it wasn’t all that bad.
Now I’ve got new memories of Cait’s basement, Kendall’s lake, Logan’s house, and Carlos’ park…
“And now I’ve got this one!” Carlos finished, reaching up to slap his head, only to wince when he realized he wasn’t wearing his normal protective gear, “...Back at home.”
At his pained words, Missy growled a bit, shaking herself from Roxy’s grip and walking over to her owner to lick at his face.
Incredible instinct on that one.
“Aw, baby,” The boy cooed, taking Missy’s face in his hands and giving her a boatload of scratches. “Is it time to go?”
The dog barked her confirmation, and when Carlos moved to stand, Roxy held out her hand. “Can we wait just a few more minutes? I’m still making my memory.”
***
When Roxy drove to James’ house to grab him that evening, she took a deep breath as she pulled up in front of his house and turned Dynamo’s rattling engine off.
Carefully, she flipped down the sun visor, checking her make-up meticulously in the mirror. If she was planning on meeting the Este Lauder of the Midwest tonight, nothing could be out of place. Even as she hopped out of the cab, she smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress despite her shaking hands.
James had it easy, she decided, getting to meet my dad before we were even together.
With a deep breath, she walked up the path leading through the meticulously manicured lawn on her way to the front door, only to be met with her boyfriend pulling open the door and slipping out to meet her before she was even halfway to the porch.
“Hey, babe!” He kissed her cheek, running a hand down her arm and lacing his fingers with hers as he pulled her back toward her tuck. “Love the dress… Do a little spin for me?”
“Uh,” The writer faltered, blinking up at James before doing as he asked. With each pound of her heel on the pavement as she turned, her pulse grew faster. “Don’t you think I should meet your mom before we head out?”
Again, James was pulling her back toward Dynamo. “Yeah, that’d be super, but she’s not home right now.”
Though she loved the wonderful view of his backside in his slacks and dress shirt as he trailed ahead of her, her eyes flickered to the right. A white Jeep Wrangler sat in the driveway.
“Did I tell you where we’re going tonight?” James asked her, interrupting her train of thought. “It’s this cool little hole-in-the-wall Italian place downtown. Owned by one of the guys on the MAHS team's family too. They’ll treat us like VIPs! Speaking of, Kendall said you’re coming to the party tomorrow, right?”
Roxy loved listening to him talk, no matter the circumstance, but right now, it felt like he was trying to bounce from subject to subject; She was having trouble following everything he’d asked her.
Smiling, the writer squeezed his hand as he opened the car door for her and waited for her to climb in before shutting it.
“Thanks, James,” She’d muttered when he finally took his place on the passenger’s side. “No, you didn’t say, but it sounds lovely! And yes, I’ll go if you’re going.”
There was an awkward pause, something quite new for the couple.
“Think she’ll be here when we get back? I’d like to meet her.”
That was a half-life, Roxy was terrified, especially considering all she knew of Brooke Diamond was her tragic, messy, public divorce, how protective she was of her son, and how little James talked about her.
“Probably, but she’s got a strict bedtime - 9 p.m. or she complains about puffy eyes the next day. It’s such a pain.” Her boyfriend reached for the stereo - she thought about slapping his hand away - turning up the volume on the tape Roxy’d popped in as she was driving over. “Who’s this? Sounds like something you’d be really good at playing on the guitar.”
James was trying to distract her.
“Fall Out Boy.” She took his bait, pulling away from the sidewalk with a knot in her stomach. “Dad and I saw them a couple of years ago. Tickets were almost impossible to get, but one of his friends from work knew someone who ran at the venue.”
Reaching out to turn it up again, Roxy gripped the wheel tighter at his next words. “You’re kidding! How sick… Did you two go to a lot of shows together?”
“How about we save the small talk for our date?” She said, putting on her best cheery voice despite how quickly she felt like spiraling. “Which road do I turn down once we’re in town?”
As James pulled out the printed directions from his front pocket, he scanned the page for the answer to her girlfriend’s question.
Meanwhile, she was attempting to get rid of the dull ache blooming in her chest, thinking she had been justified in her worry all those weeks ago.
Am I not the kind of girl you take home to your parents?
***
Jo and Camille had assured Roxy she was being ridiculous on their emergency-slash-Happy Birthday, Camille phone call last night. So, when she’d finally picked all her friends up, managed to make it to “Hawkins’ Haus,” and passed her keyes off to their designated driver, Kendall, Roxy was ready to forget all about the dark worry itching at the back of her mind.
Drink, dance, have a good time… Simple, she planned out in her head, clutching at her boyfriend’s arm as the five of them entered the large modern-style house to the sound of loud party chatter over whatever unseen speakers were blasting the top hits of the last year. Plenty of teenagers filled the space ready to celebrate the New Year together, making it tough for the five to all move together through the entrance and into the living room, where a group of boys were all lounging on whatever furniture or floor space was available.
From her conversation with Kendall, Roxy had assumed it was just a party with the team and a few of their friends, but as she glanced around the space it was packed with people as far as she could see. Mountain Aire was one of the largest high schools in the area; She wouldn’t be surprised if most of the student population was in attendance tonight. From the entrance to the fenced-in backyard, even to the second floor it was wall-to-wall people.
“Hawkinsssss!” She heard Carlos boom behind her, and one of the boys turned his head, eyes lighting up as he practically jumped out of his armchair to greet the newcomers.
“Garcia?!” Hawkins called back, arms wide. “Get your ass over here!”
Happy to oblige, Carlos tackled the boy into a bear hug, “Dude, it’s been too long!”
A few of the other guys were standing now, slowly heading over to greet Kendall, Carlos, James, and Logan as well.
“Team captain,” James murmured in Roxy’s ear, before flashing his award-winning smile and reaching out from behind her to shake his hand. “Good to see you, man.”
“And you, Diamond! God, look at you!” The captain beamed, and now that they were closer Roxy could get a better look at him in the dim light. Like her friends, he was infuriatingly handsome, which she was beginning to think was a requirement if someone wanted to join the MAHS hockey team just from an inventory of the room. Waved brown hair fell over his just-as-brown eyes as he looked down at the girl in front of him, flashing a wry smile. “And you brought a real Los Angeles model with you? Damn, dude!”
Feeling her cheeks heat, Roxy leaned back into her boyfriend as he introduced her. “Kit Hawkins, Roxanne Somerset. And she’s not a model - though she could be if she wanted, for sure.”
Roxy held her hand out, “I’m a songwriter, actually. And house band member. And assistant… I wear many, many hats. Nice to meet you!”
Kit’s calloused hands rose to meet her own, shaking it up and down before bringing her knuckles to his lips.
“Girlfriend!” James blurted out, pulling Roxy’s hand into his the moment Hawkins let it go. “Did I mention she’s my girlfriend?”
Raising both his palms in defense, Kit’s eyes widened, “My bad, my bad! Sorry, Roxanne. Either of you want something to drink?”
The assistant shook her head, not for now at least, but James took him up on the offer, snagging one of the cold cans from one of many coolers she could spot around the room.
Gradually, more and more greetings were exchanged, James letting Roxy know who everyone was around the room as they piled onto the couch together. As he pulled her into his lap to create some room for Logan to sit beside them, his thumb rubbed a soothing circular pattern into her hip as she did her best to remember everyone’s names.
All of the players referred to each other by last name, which was easy enough with her own friends, but James using first and last names in his introductions was throwing her off a bit as she tuned into their conversations. In one part of the room, Kendall was detailing some of the crazy aspects of Hollywood, in another, an MAHS player, Callaghan, was talking to Logan about the team’s stats for the year.
“They’re totally gonna make the playoffs,” He spoke aloud, presumably only to Roxy once Callaghan started to rattle off some sort of statistics. “Seems like Hawkins is doing a good job…”
Across the way, it sounded like Carlos was telling the story of their audition to players Streicher and Logan - not to be confused with her own Logan - who were almost rolled over in laughter when he mentioned farting into the microphone in front of one of L.A.’s biggest music producers.
Draping an arm over James’ shoulder, Roxy leaned into his chest a bit more as she brought her lips down to his ear, “I didn’t expect there to be so many players! Isn’t there… like competition to get onto the team or something?”
“Most pro teams only have about 20 players; MAHS has room for 16 on their varsity team and you’re looking at every single one of them.”
Roxy felt her eyes widen, “For the entire student population?”
After a slow sip of his vodka soda, James nodded, “Best of the best, baby.”
For a moment, as she turned back to the story Kendall was telling, she thought about what it would be like if they went to a normal high school. Flashes of partnering with Logan at the chem lab, holding her boyfriend’s hand as they walked down the locker-lined hallways, passing notes with Carlos in history… Sitting surrounded by other “normal” teenagers almost had her longing for a life back in Minnesota.
Without thinking, she lifted the can from James’ hand and took a few small sips. “I can’t believe I’m dating a jock. Doesn’t that throw off the high school ecosystem balance or something?” “Nah,” He assured her, pointing over to another player, Graham. “He’s dating one of the best artists ever and…” It took him a second, but his finger landed on another boy, Miller. “His girlfriend really loves Bauhaus and…” Roxy took another sip of his drink as he pointed someone else out, King. “His partner’s a pothead. All things considered, it’s a good mix.”
“Sounds like you needed a musician,” She mused, planting a kiss on his cheek before resting her forehead on his. “You’d let me wear your varsity jacket, right?”
“Rox, are you kidding me?” The hand on her hip flexed. “I’ll seriously run home and get it right now if you promise you’ll wear it the rest of the night-”
Bang!
The sound of aluminum crunching against a plastic surface made the both of them jump and turn toward the source of the sound, Carlos. “Whoo!”
“Shit,” Roxy giggled, watching as he threw the can across the room and into one of the many waste bins scattered about. “He’s one down; We need to catch up.”
“Say less, babe. Let’s go see what else they’ve got.”
~
Two seltzers later, James and Roxy were tearing up the dancefloor.
Well, more like James was thanks to his professional coaching over the last year, and his attempts to guide his girlfriend into some smoother moves went unheard as she rocked from side to side. At the end of each song, she’d find her way back into his arms, complaining that it was over, before getting excited on the first note of whatever came next, telling him how that was her favorite song ever.
Eventually, he was able to keep her close by hooking his fingers in the belt loops of her jeans, as her moves slowly began to synchronize with his thanks to their proximity. Despite music flowing through her veins and a presence at every single Big Time Rush dance practice and live performance, she still lacked good rhythm to move her own body to but figured practice makes perfect.
Hands trailing up the sides of her boyfriend’s chest and eventually winding around his neck, she pulled herself even closer, belting out the words to whatever song was the background track for their moves. Even with her heart beating out of her chest from all the activity, each time James brushed up against her or tightened his hold on her hips, it increased to what Roxy feared may be near fatal levels.
Though the house was dim, she caught glimpses of his face now and then as he bobbed his head to the beat. Be it their alcohol intake or the loosening she felt overtake her brain, but she noticed a splash of red on his cheeks, causing her own to heat in return.
~
Water. James finally made her drink not one, but two bottles of water after their stint on the dance floor and a small make-out session in the second-floor hallway, before they found themselves back on the couch and caught up in a party game with the hockey team.
Normally, Roxy was not one to partake in Truth or Dare with strangers, but her inhibitions were lowered just enough and she wanted to see her other friends so badly, that she and James allowed themselves to be roped into the shenanigans happening in the living room.
Logan - her Logan - was already stripped down to his boxers after a series of unfortunate dares, Callaghan was forced to recount his most embarrassing memory, and Kendall was currently wearing his shoes on his hands.
“Oh, James!” Hawkins called, slightly swaying in his seat as he singled out his victim for the next round. “Truth or dare?”
Roxy felt James hum under her while he chose, and she secretly hoped he might have to take off some clothing too.
“Dare.”
He almost didn’t catch the beer can the team captain hurtled his way, but managed to use his free hand - the one not circling Roxy’s waist - to catch it.
Immediately, despite various levels of intoxication, the whole room caught on to Hawkins’ scheme and began chanting, “Chug, chug, chug, chug!”
And chug James did, like a champion, while Roxy watched in awe. And a little bit to see his Adam’s Apple bob up and down and think about all the kisses she could plant on his neck later, but that wasn’t as important.
It took him about 25 seconds, and when he finished, the room broke into a wild ovation, as though he’d just scored the winning goal at a hockey game. Careful not to disturb the girl in his lap, he chucked the can right back at Hawkins before adding his other arm around her waist and tugging Roxy even closer into him.
She didn’t even think before she grabbed his face and kissed him in front of God and everybody, licking up whatever remained of the bitter-tasting drink. They ignored the cheers that erupted after that, simply indulging in each other for a few more seconds, until someone cleared their throat to remind James it was his turn to pick a new victim.
Sometime later, King had begrudgingly told the story of his first kiss, Carlos did an entire piece of Big Time Rush choreography without the music, and Graham had to hold hands with Miller until one of them passed out for the night.
Roxy thought she had done a pretty good job at hiding under the radar for most of the game, not being too loud or encouraging any of the more embarrassing asks, so when Miller slurred her name, it almost shocked her. “Roxanne? Truth or dare?”
As much as she suspected James would also like it if she removed a few articles of clothing, she didn’t want to take her chances in a room full of other guys. “Truth. Definitely truth.”
“Alright then,” Miller grinned, though one of his eyes blinked before the other as he thought up his question. “What’s your biggest fantasy?”
Idiot… Roxy smiled, hands playing with the plastic water bottle she had just finished. He didn’t specify what kind…
“I want a big house!” She blurted, “Like so big you want to ride a bike from one end to the other, and your legs hurt from walking up so many stairs. And a huge yard, huge… With a big lake that freezes over in the winter so we can skate on it and trails leading into the forest. Oh! And a music studio inside too, so I can make whatever I want and Gustavo can’t tell me no.”
At some point, James’ grip on her tightened, and she could feel his eyes on her as she continued to babble off whatever came to mind.
“And pets!” She yelled, so loud it almost frightened her, and she dropped the bottle to talk with her hands as she listed them all off. “Dogs… Cats… Turtles… Hamsters… We are going to have so many pets! And a place to show off all my instruments and all your platinum records, which are actually all my platinum records, but they’ll say your name on them because you’re in the band and I’m not, okay?”
By now, it was no secret she was speaking directly to James, considering they were basically staring at each other, as if there were nobody else in the room when she finally finished her thought. He was lapping up every single word his girlfriend was saying with eager nods, offering up no argument or additions to her fantasy.
“House, lake, trail, studio, pets, and… museum? I think I can manage all that for you,” James said, and she felt the circles from his thumbs begin again. “Anything else you’d like to add?”
Immediately, her face caught fire. It was one thing for her to rattle off all the silly things she’d thought of to avoid answering the real question Miller had been getting at, but the more she thought about it, the more truth her statement held than she’d originally intended.
She leaned into him giggling, “Yeah, actually-”
“Fifteen seconds to midnight!”
Everybody began to scramble, grabbing drinks, grabbing partners, grabbing 12 of the fresh green grapes from the kitchen counter. Everybody, except for James and Roxy, who were still locked in their loving gaze as their friends all contributed to the chaos around them.
“Ten-”
“Roxanne?”
“Nine, eight-”
“Hm?”
“Seven, six-”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Five, four-”
“You think you need to ask?”
“Three, two, one… Happy New Year!”
#thats all she wrote fic#big time rush#james diamond#kendall knight#logan mitchell#carlos garcia#james maslow#kendall schmidt#logan henderson#carlos penavega
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The Only Exception
Pairing: NishinoyaXReader
Words: 2.2K
Summary: Nishinoya was genuinely happy with his life. He’d gotten used to being by himself and had accepted the fact that that was how it was supposed to be. Until you came along and threw everything he thought made sense out the window.
A/N: I really like this fic. It’s one of my favorites Nishinoya ones so far just because it’s his pov and timeskip and the amount of love feels makes me happy. i got a lot of serotonin while writing it :D
Masterlist
Nishinoya had never been someone’s first choice.
He knew that sounded dramatic, but it was just a fact of life. The sky was blue, Tanaka could chug three-fourths gallon of milk before vomiting, and Nishinoya was never anyone’s preferred option--which never bothered him so keep the pity to yourself.
He learned to accept this when he never got scouted for the All-Japan Youth Camp and after the only person Nishinoya ever even kind of loved ended up loving his best friend. It taught him to keep his expectations low and to focus on things he could control, which was what led him to solo-traveling Japan and then the world. He realized things might be better on his own, and with the constant itch that he was missing out on something bigger traveling alone just made sense.
But then you came and ruined everything.
Hold on. That came off way more aggressive than Nishinoya wanted. He meant there was a perfect vision for how his life would go-pyramids in Egypt, Hollywood sign in Los Angeles, deep sea fishing in Italy-until he toppled over you in the streets of Italy. He’d been sprinting toward the docks when you stepped out of a marketplace and he collided into you, knocking you flat on your butt and sending your groceries all over the sidewalk. Nishinoya fumbled through his best apology in broken Italian while shoving produce into your paper bag, but froze in surprise when you snorted rather than began an enraged lecture.
He swore his heart actually stopped when your eyes met. You were clearly amused by his flustered behavior and when his heart started back up it was abnormally fast. Not once had he understood what Tanaka meant when he explained the first time he’d seen Kiyoko, but the first time Nishinoya saw you everything Tanaka said clicked. If Nishinoya had been fifteen he probably would’ve proposed to you on the spot.
But he wasn’t, so instead he shakily handed you your groceries with furiously red cheeks.
“Come ti chiami?” You asked with a raised brow.
Nishinoya blinked several times. He racked his brain for what he’d been taught on his last fishing trip, but it was mostly curses and inappropriate sayings he should probably avoid using. He was pretty sure Duolingo mentioned ‘chiamo’ as name though.
“Nishinoya?” He answered like a question and felt relief wash over him when you nodded.
“What are you doing this weekend, Nishinoya?”
He stared blankly before pointing at you with wide eyes, “I understood that.”
“Well you obviously don’t know Italian,” you rolled your eyes and he pouted at the incredibly accurate jab, “so, are you free?”
He looked around the empty street before pointing to himself. “Are you still talking to me?”
“Is there another Nishinoya around here?”
“I mean, there could be.” He looked up thoughtfully. “The odds would be crazy though.”
You laughed lightly which made a warmth creep up his neck. “I’m talking to you. I’m trying to ask you on a date.”
He looked at you like you’d grown a second head. “Why?”
“You’re attractive and you seem nice,” you cocked your head to the side. “Is that not a good reason?”
He stared at the ground intensely. “I guess… It is?” Then his original reason for being there struck him and his eyes widened. “Oh shit. I have to go,” he started leaving before quickly coming back. “Wait, I, uh, yes. Yes to the date thing.”
You chuckled, pulling a cellphone from your pocket to let him hurriedly create his contact before continuing his sprint to the docks-with a teasing recommendation not to knock anyone else over. That literal run in was the moment his entire world view became out of whack.
It wasn’t that he thought he was immune to liking someone-high school Nishinoya fell for any breathing human that gave him attention-he just lost the ability to imagine someone liking him. Maybe he’d been by himself too long or maybe that was just another fact he’d grown used to. He didn’t know anymore.
He did know that when he showed up at the restaurant thirty minutes early-there’s only so much pacing someone can do before they go insane-he hadn’t expected to see you. Just sitting on a bench beside the main entrance, looking too perfect while bouncing a knee and nibbling on your thumb nail as if you were nervous to be there.
Except it was only him, so that wouldn’t make sense.
“Hey,” you said when you spotted him standing in the middle of the sidewalk like an idiot.
“You’re here,” he raised a brow. You took it as the time, but he meant it in a general sense. He truly hadn’t expected you to show up.
“Oh,” you chuckled awkwardly, twisting the material of your clothes. “Yeah, I was kind of nervous.”
He mulled that over for admittedly too long, but it just seemed like such a stupid thing to say. It wasn’t that you looked stupid, but that’s what made it so confusing.
“You’re also early.” You pointed out when the silence became awkwardly long.
“I was nervous.” He said like it should have been obvious.
“At least we’re starting on equal ground,” you said with a shaky breath.
Equal ground? He wasn’t sure his brain was cut out for this type of critical thinking. He’d even spent the past few days planning for every scenario-even you sneaking out the bathroom like in the movies-but he never pictured you being nervous.
“Uh, yeah,” he tapped against his leg while glancing through the window at the half-filled dining area, “we can probably go inside.”
“That’s probably a good idea,” you gave him a quick finger gun before whipping around with shoulders to your ears.
Nishinoya blinked several times before looking back down the street. A part of him thought about running, saving you both from the shitty date to come filled with awful conversation starters he’d pulled from an online article for high schoolers. However his fate was sealed the moment you sent a gentle smile over your shoulder and his feet began following you through the door without his permission.
Ever since that day he’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ever since you giggled behind your hand instead of wincing at the terrible jokes he regretted the moment they left his mouth; ever since you weren’t burdened by the need to translate for him the whole night; and ever since you were amused rather than annoyed at his nervous rambling and awkward icebreakers.
It was just too good to be true.
Like the first time you came over and teased him for the cheesy dialogue in his favorite action movies. How his chest ached when your head rested in his lap and you gazed at him with overwhelming amounts of affection. He’d never dreamed he’d have this-couldn’t have if he tried. Sharing his favorite things with someone while they traced designs against his palm and occasionally sealing them with featherlight kisses. The fire it sent up his arm was too much and not enough and he hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted this.
It was a little scary how much Nishinoya didn’t want to lose it.
And that thought started keeping him up at night. Nishinoya was never really scared of anything-it was kind of what he was known for everywhere he traveled. If anyone needed something done they asked the foreigner with a death wish. So, the idea that you had that effect on him was, again, terrifying.
But what was Nishinoya supposed to do when you press your forehead against his in the middle of the night? Running your fingers through his hair and paying special attention to the blonde strands he’d always been secretly self-conscious of, whispering low how they were one of your favorite things in the world. How could he regret anything when you rubbed your nose lazily against his and kissed him softer than he ever deserved? He didn’t give a shit how scared he was if it meant he could stay like this, with you, for as long as you’d let him.
Because his heart raced a million miles a second when you mindlessly held his hand under a table or leaned against him just to be close. Because for some reason he was the first person you called when you were excited or when you needed comfort. Because when he rambled too long about spearfishing or an old friend’s volleyball game your eyes lit with genuine interest rather than annoyance. And because he was in love with you.
Which he both wasn’t prepared for and had known was inevitable. Falling for you had been like getting hit by a semi-truck he’d seen coming for miles.
It probably happened sooner than socially acceptable, but that didn’t surprise him given his all or nothing nature. This outcome was decided the moment Nishinoya knew he’d be fine with you breaking his heart a hundred times if it meant he could keep waking up next to you cascaded by the rising sun because he was still too lazy to invest in curtains. Just you cuddling closer to him for warmth in your sleep would make every ounce of pain worth it.
Once Nishinoya’d acknowledged his feelings it was nearly impossible keeping them down. With every breathtaking smile, or brush of your hand against his, or bubble of laughter that rang throughout his apartment it nearly spilled from his lips like a breath. It took all self-restraint he had to hold it back. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want you to know because you deserved this piece of him-every piece of him.
He just wasn’t sure you’d want it.
His resolve lasted nearly a month-a month longer than he thought he was capable-before the feeling was too intense for him to keep down. And it wasn’t anything drastic that made him break. No, it was something so absurdly casual that he was almost pissed at himself when the words flowed from his mouth.
It had been a completely average morning, nothing crazy, the weather was actually gross with rain pounding against the windows and the sky a depressing shade of grey. But then you stepped out of his bathroom while rubbing the sleep from your eyes, giving him a lopsided smile before slurring a soft request for breakfast. It was like time froze and he was in a stupid romcom except you were there so it was actually an oscar nominated masterpiece.
Your head lolled to the side, half-lidded eyes filling with concern at his silence. “We can cook together. I didn’t mean it like-”
“I love you.”
That seemed to wake you up. Your body straightened while your mouth hung open in stunned silence. Nishinoya had expected this kind of reaction, so he clenched his fists tight in preparation for the worst.
“Are you sure?” You asked, barely above a whisper. “That’s a pretty serious word, Noya.”
He knew that. Nishinoya had spent too many nights losing sleep over that.
“You scare me,” he confessed, deciding if he was going to dig his grave he might as well make it deep. “I’ve never really been the one someone chooses. More like deal or settle with.” He grimaced when his heart squeezed painfully in his chest, “but I love you more than I thought I could ever love anyone and that scares me. You make me feel wanted and I don’t know what to do with that.”
“Because I do want you.” You whispered and his stare locked on yours so quickly, meeting your loving gaze while his heart started racing. “And everyone you know must be really stupid because I feel lucky I got to choose you. I get to love you.”
He stared at you wide-eyed while his chest swelled with so much emotion he was surprised he hadn’t passed out.
“Sorry, that sounded really lame.” You placed a hand against your forehead and Nishinoya shook his head vigorously.
“I think that was the greatest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
You stepped closer and cradled his face, gently brushing your thumbs along his cheeks. If he wasn’t so manly and awesome he may have teared up, but he definitely didn’t. Which was why you obviously weren’t wiping any water off his cheeks before pulling his lips against yours.
Nishinoya set a languid pace that turned desperate when you tangled your fingers in his hair. He pulled you as close as he could, which was never enough, snaking an arm around your middle and sliding one to cradle the back of your head.
When it got heated enough that he decided he’d very much like to move it to his bedroom Nishinoya’s stomach growled and you snorted against his lips. Nishinoya pouted, whining when you pulled away with a playful smirk.
“Later,” you said, pinching his cheeks and waving his head around. “Food first. We’re both hungry.”
He did love food.
He disrespectfully watched you leave him in favor of searching the fridge for food that could be thrown together for breakfast. A dopey smile covered his lips because he loved you. He was lucky enough to get to love you. And for some ridiculous fucking reason you were dumb enough to love him.
He would do whatever he could to keep it this way. For now, that was helping you cook breakfast. Tomorrow, who knows? But whatever it was you would be there, so it would be pretty god damn amazing.
#nishinoya yuu#nishinoya yu#nishinoya x reader#nishinoya yu x reader#nishinoya x you#nishinoya yū#nishinoya imagine#nishinoya fluff#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyu!!
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It is time to Ramble about Regenerations in the Time Lord au.
I'll be going through the known regenerations for both The Ranger (Ford) and The Mechanic (Otto) but I'm gonna keep The Ruler (Gristol) as a surprise for later.
The Ranger
Currently on his second regeneration, meaning he still has 11 more after this. There are three regenerations that have been decided so far.
1st regeneration: Fred.
This started as a joke about their names being similar. Then it turned into "Wait, that actually would make a lot of sense." So therefore, his first regeneration went by the nickname "Fred" thanks to seeing a restaurant with the name "Freddy's" and deciding it's a good enough name for him. He traveled with a couple friends-- The Mechanic and the Ruler-- at first before finally splitting off to take care of himself and do some sight-seeing of his own.
His companions are as follows:
Boyd Cooper, a 1960s Private Eye, and a conspiracy theorist in his free time. He noticed the oddity of this man showing up throughout history, and decided to track him down. When Fred and Boyd met, Fred decided the best thing to do was take him with so that he could see which of his theories were wrong and which were right.
Edgar Teglee, a 31st century painter. He has the technology to paint on the air in holograms, but he still loves the act of painting on black velvet. He joined the team after helping them in their attempts to stop another villain from destroying everything.
Gloria von Gouten, a drama teacher and part-time actress from 2005. She found them all rather charming, and decided to tag along without really asking or being asked. No one minded. She's the one who helps them to actually blend in.
There could be more, but those are the ones I know of for now. He regenerates because of an incident involving the Ruler, and crash lands in the backyard of one Lucrecia Mux.
2nd regeneration: Ford
This is the one most of the story has been focused on so far. He acts a lot more happy-go-lucky compared to his previous regeneration, and I'd honestly compare him a tiny bit to the eleventh doctor. (In fact, the way he meets Lucy is purposefully reminiscent of how 11 met Amy.) He chose the name "Ford" after Lucy used it for his TARDIS, seeing as it's still a Ford truck, and he hasn't stopped traveling around since then.
His companions are as follows:
Lucrecia Mux, an acrobat and dreamer who loves to help people. She found him after crashing in her backyard, and she brought him into the caravan. They travel together for quite a while, even falling in love along the way, but she eventually decides to head home to help care for her nephew, her sister, and her brother-in-law. Whenever Ford is around her, he's always dragged to dinner with them in the caravan.
Bob Zanotto, a modern-day cashier (and hobbyist gardener) who's tired of basically everything. He's seen more than enough hardship after losing both his parents, but after being pulled into an adventure after aliens nearly kill him at his job. He travels with Ford for 3 adventures, then leaves. After Ford does some solo stuff, he goes to find Bob again, two years after he left. Bob readily joins him, having lost basically everything except his home and garden.
Helmut Fullbear, a new musician and "professional wanderer" who accidentally hitched a ride on the TARDIS before a trip through time. He refuses to tell them when he's from until he's allowed to stay with them. He and Bob quickly grow close, and he eventually decides to stay with Bob instead of going home.
Cassie O'Pia, a librarian and writer who notices the oddness of this man showing up throughout history as well. She chews Ford out the instant they meet, but he takes her to the Library of Alexandria, which is probably the best way to apologize to her. She comes with him to make sure he doesn't mess up the timeline more.
(maybe?) Nash Heels, a teenager who's desperate to see more of the world. Nash follows along behind him when he stops by his school, asking Ford lots of questions about what's happening. Even though he is a little annoying, he does enjoy getting to know Ford and getting to see the world.
When he regenerates, it's sudden and unexpected, after likely getting shot by a Dalek or something of the sort. I don't actually know how he regenerates yet, so give me a bit of time on that one ^-^;;
3rd regeneration: Raz
That's right. Raz is a time lord. >:3
He's a lot more childish than the last regeneration, but he's extremely happy to help, and has a heart of gold.
There's not that much known about him in this regeneration yet, since I've mostly focused on Fred and Ford, but I do know of a couple companions he takes with him.
Augustus Aquato, an acrobat and performer. He's the nephew of Lucy, and heard all about this strange man from the stars. Though he's confused, he quickly takes a bit of a parental role towards the time lord, and tries to help him on his journey. He leaves to raise a kid with his wife, naming said child after Raz.
Truman Zanotto, a university student. He's Bob and Helmut's nephew, and also heard all about him, but he doesn't know what to make of the strange duo who showed up. He and Augustus argue quite a bit at first before they find common ground, and after that? They're like brothers, helping each other all the way. He eventually leaves as well, but I don't know why.
That's all there is for The Ranger for now, so let's move on to....
The Mechanic
Unlike the Ranger, the Mechanic has a habit of getting into dangerous situations with his devices, though they've been trying to stop that to help others. There are four known regenerations, but I plan to include more as well.
1st regeneration: Caligosto.
He and the Ranger are queerplatonic partners in this regeneration, and he frequently has to help Fred out of situations that will hurt him because of Fred's bleeding-heart nature. He enjoys cracking jokes, and does have a bad habit of doing things without fully thinking them through.
He also has a companion! But only the one.
Penelope Delucca, a young woman with anxiety who longs to be a scientist. She's the balance to his crazy antics, and frequently talks him out of things that would cause damage. She joined him mostly because she wasn't aware what this would entail, but she learned to enjoy it and to have a bit more confidence.
Unfortunately for Penny, she did end up witnessing the regeneration, which definitely scared her. But now, there is....
2nd regeneration: Sasha.
The first thing they realized is that now he's German. The second thing they noticed is that he has no idea how to be comforting to Penny. He definitely does try, but he's pretty bad at it. Eventually they part ways amicably.
This regeneration also picks up another companion.
Milla Vodello, a 1960s orphanage worker. She didn't know what to do after a fire burnt it down, but Sasha took her with him to help her find a new passion. They fell in love eventually, and he truly did admire her the whole time, changing up his TARDIS and how he looked to be better because of her. The two of them are together for most of this regeneration.
After Milla leaves, he eventually regenerates once again. However, I don't know much about how the Mechanic acts in this regeneration, so I'll just note who it is, say a tiny bit, and then move on.
3rd regeneration: Gisu
I thought it was fitting.
There are a few more regens in here, and then we get to...
6th regeneration: Otto.
Yeah! Otto is here! He's a lot like the Otto we know and love, with a dash less tact. I'm running out of time to type rn, so I can't say much. But let's talk about his companion as well!
Compton Boole, a modern-day cook at a small family restaurant. He lives with Cassie, and they are QPPs. He's pulled a long by Otto to tour the galaxy and learn all sorts of recipes, and he has a very "This might as well happen" vibe.
~
Anyways, that's everyone for these two. I hope I'm making sense. Hope y'all enjoyed!
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Adventurous Spirit
Summary: Ashton becomes more and more of a (lovestruck) hippie.
Word Count: 1.6k
And away, and away we go!
__
Ashton’s adventurous spirit was what had drawn you to him in the first place. Sometimes you weren’t sure what he loved more: being a drummer or being able to travel the world as a result. All you knew was Ashton seemed most at home when he was on the road, making the most of every moment, and you were an absolute sucker for someone who loved life with that much fierceness.
With tour dates lined up, and studio time charted out, life at home buzzed with the excitement of what was to come. Then, the world shut down.
The first week, you watched anxiously as Ashton paced about the house, phone glued to his ear as plans B through Z were discussed and refined, tension slowly building up in his neck and shoulders. But with an album release so close, the feeling of restlessness didn’t get a chance to settle in, and for that you were grateful.
About a month and a half into lockdown, you found him sitting on the couch, staring blankly into space. “Hey,” you said softly, sitting down next to him, and pulling him out of his trance. “You good?” you asked, your fingers dragging slowly up and down his arm.
“Hmm?” he questioned, giving a small shake of his head. “Oh… Yeah, I’m good, I guess.”
“You guess?”
Ashton shrugged. “It’s hard to put into words. Like, I’m thankful for the time to slow down. Because I know I sometimes worry you with how much I work. And my body could probably use the rest. But not knowing how long this lasts is… It fuckin’ sucks. Because there were a lot of things I always said I’d do if I just had the time. And now I do. But how much time? How long am I stuck here?”
“Well” you started with a slight teasing tone, “I’m pretty sure you have time to make a garden, and get some chickens if you’re really dedicated to that.”
He giggled lightly, then sighed. “I just hate not knowing. I don’t want to lose myself.”
“Oh, I don’t think you need to worry about that. Just take it one day at a time, and go from there.”
“I suppose that’s true. And hey, I got you, right?”
“Of course,” you smiled at him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good. Cuz I need you more than I can put into words.”
“I love you too, Ash.”
~~~
You both stared at the box of Superbloom merch, you in awe, and Ashton somewhat dejectedly. “Oh, c’mon!” you urged, nudging into his shoulder. “You could be a little excited. You worked hard for this.”
“I am…” he defended. “But I want to do more.”
“More with the release? Or more solo stuff?”
“More with the release. I want to celebrate. I want a chance to play it live. I want everything the guys and I wanted with Calm, and this shit,” he thrust an angry finger in the direction of the window, “won’t go away!”
“So let’s celebrate.”
“How?!”
“We get tested, and we get out here for a bit. Camp in the desert under the stars for a few nights. I dunno. We’ll figure it out.”
“That… is not half bad. But that only solves one of my problems. I miss performing, babe.”
“Virtual concerts are a thing, you know.”
His eyes lit up in a way you hadn’t really seen for months, before he was kissing you passionately. “You! You’re a fuckin’ genius!”
You laughed against his mouth. “Thanks, I try.”
His forehead knocked against yours, his eyes holding yours steadily. “You are everything to me.”
~~~
If there was a downside to suggesting a weekend getaway for the Ashton’s album release, it was that it revived his desire to travel, and the desire was now stronger than you ever remembered it being.
“You’re becoming a hippie,” you joked as you guys woke up in the back of a pick up truck in the middle of nowhere.
“Becoming?” he laughed. “Thought I always was.”
“Well, it’s becoming more prominent now,” you laughed with him, running your hands through his hair. “I don’t think you’ve let your hair get this long since 2016.”
“Ah yes, the first hippie Ash stage. I’ve learned a lot since then.”
“So this is Hippie Ash 2.0?”
“The new and improved hippie.”
You both broke out in a fit of giggles, before you sighed in content, curling yourself into his side. “So where to next?”
“Anywhere we fuckin’ want to. Well… within reason. The guys and I are discussing the next album.”
“Shit, already?”
He shrugged. “Might as well. Gotta be prepared for when the world opens up again. Wanna hit the ground running. Make up for lost time.”
“Well, fuck. Let’s go somewhere with the guys then. A working vacation.”
“Working vacations are my favorite types of vacation. But after the holidays. I’m getting used to lazy vacations where it’s just me and you, and I’m not ready to give that up just yet.”
“Oh, some place with snow would be cool. Maybe a cabin so we don’t freeze to death.”
He took the hint, pulling you into him with the blanket. “Sounds perfect.”
~~~
You awoke to an empty bed, sunlight, light laughter, and weed smoke filtering in from the open window.
“Morning, Luke,” you greeted as you found the blonde in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his hands wrapped around a coffee mug.
“Mornin’,” he nodded, side stepping out of the way of the coffee machine. “Still practically a full pot if you want a cup.”
“Nah, I’m good for now. Ash?”
“Outside getting high with Cal.”
“Fuckin’ hippie…” you chuckled, headed for the front door of the cabin, Luke’s own laughter following you out.
Calum had a camera in his hand, pointed at Ashton who sat on a couch in his robe, a random disarray of items scattered nearby on the ledge of a firepit. “Oh, hey, Y/N!” Calum said, noticing you first, as Ashton looked over his shoulder at you.
“Hey guys,” you smiled, taking a seat next to Ashton on the couch and leaning into him. “Starting the morning off on the right foot?” you asked with a pointed glance at the ashtray with the cigarettes and blunts.
“Oh, yeah,” Ashton drawled, shifting to wrap his arm around your shoulders.
“Ever think you lean into the hippie stereotype a lil too much?”
“Nah. Haven’t gone completely off the grid.”
“Yet,” Calum snickered. “There’s still time. Luke kinda did, and I’ve never seen him happier.”
“I dunno. I’m already pretty fuckin’ happy.”
“That’s true,” Calum nodded, then clapped a hand against his leg. “I’mma head back in. Maybe shower. Maybe get another cup. You guys good?”
“Yeah, we’re good, mate.”
“You know,” you spoke up as Calum headed back inside, “when this first started last year, I was really worried about you.”
“Worried about me? Why?”
“You said it yourself back then. You’ve always pushed yourself harder than you probably should. I mean, face it, Ash, you’re restless. I was worried about all the things you were worried about. That you’d get stuck, or lose yourself. But then, I dunno. I guess I stopped because I realized how silly it was to worry about you. I mean, you’re you. You’re always gonna make the most of whatever you’ve got. Even if what you got was a year that wasn’t anything like you originally expected it to be.”
“This year was harder than I anticipated. And I did get stuck, and I did get lost. Like those moments did happen. Because you’re right. I’m restless. I’m at my most relaxed when I’m constantly on the move, either doing something or working towards something. So, yeah. This past year fuckin’ sucked. But it was also everything I needed at the same time.”
“Sometimes you gotta lose yourself to find yourself?”
“Something like that, yeah. So, while this past year has taught me a lot, it’s also solidified a lot of things I already knew to be true. Like how I couldn’t have done any of this without you. More than that, I don’t want to do any of this without you. And I wasted too much time trying to reconcile how both you and the band can be the adventures I want to spend my whole life chasing before realizing that I don’t have to.”
“Ash…” you cut in softly. “I’d never make you choose between me and the band. Or me and anything, for that matter. I’m always going to support whatever makes you happiest.”
“No, I know. That’s what I’m trying to say. My life with you in it is what makes me happiest, because you are what makes me happiest. In a year where I didn’t know which way my life was going from one day to the next, the one thing I knew for certain was that I’d have you. It made the dark moments bearable, and the light moments much brighter. That’s not something I want to give up. You’re what I want, now and always. So,” he got up from the couch, reaching into the pocket of his robe as he sank to his knees in front of you. “Marry me.”
You gasped as he snapped open the little box and cool metal slid across your left ring finger, your mind in a whirlwind of both his sentiment, and the fact that he said “Marry me,” more as a direct statement. “Mrs. Hippie does have a nice ring to it.”
“So, that’s a ‘yes’?”
“It’s a million ‘yes’s, Ash. You’re the love of my life.”
“And you’re mine.”
__
Tag List
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Golden
Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.
Characters belong to @lumosinlove
Beta: @the-most-slyterin-hufflepuff & @punkkkboi
TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe
Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):
Chapter 5:
Redneck Woman
Red Solo Cup
Eloise smiles as Leo continues to ramble on about these boys who have clearly stolen his heart. She sips her black coffee and sets it down on the counter she is leaning against. Walking over to her offspring, that is a total of two inches taller than her, she kisses his cheek causing him to stop mid sentence.
“Was I rambling too much?” The red appearing on his cheeks made her smile, ruffling his hair that is in need of his yearly head shave. He swats her hand away. “I know it's long but because someone told me how to keep my hair healthy.” Looks pointedly at her as she snorts. “I only cut my hair once a year and it's a full shave.” He sticks out his tongue.
“Who even raised you to be so disrespectful?” She dramatically puts her hand on her chest, then tightens the ties on her robe. Giving him a motherly smile she thanks him as he puts some toad in a hole on a plate for her. “I don’t have my hearing friend in to help me listen to you,” She makes a gesture like she is swooning with her hand on her forehead and her hand fanning herself. “ GuSh, about your hockey boys. But, it is very sweet.”
“I really like them Mama… I think you and Daddy would too.” He focuses on his toast as he takes a bite and brushes the crumbs onto the floor, much to Eloise’s annoyance. She knows this is a sign of him wanting to trust his emotions but doesn’t want to jinx himself.
“Come here, let's get all the motherly squishing done before Clay and… what was his name? Rex?” She pulls him into a tight hug and crushes him in her arms with her old lady strength. He relaxes completely into her and hugs back just as tight but making sure not to hurt her. He makes sure to have his head on her right shoulder so she can hear him.
“Reg, his name is Regulus but we call him Reg. I think you should try and adopt him like you did with Clay. Pseudo Mother is just your personality now that you are so old.” He squeaks and gets out of her death grip hug as she pokes his ribs. “RUDE!”
She is still cackling as Clayton bursts through the door announcing his entrance, running into the kitchen.
“I smell food!” He hops on the counter and begins earring Leo’s breakfast. She pats his knee with a happy yet defeated look on her face. She has told him so many times not to climb on the counters that cost more than some people's entire house. “Mm! Ma, meet Reg.” He gestures to a boy who looks like he feels entirely out of place, she was going to tell Clay off for talking with his mouth full but she has a new mission now.
Protect this kid.
After making a mess and eating, Clay and Leo go out to load the trailer and Horses up for the drive to Texas where the rest of their team already is. Eloise has started on the dishes and looks over to Reg and nods him over.
“You know how to rinse dishes?”
“No Ma’am.” She smiles at him and pushes the faucet to face the sink in front of him.
“No need to call me Ma’am, call me Eloise. Now, you just run the dish under the hot warmer and get all the suds off. Make sure I don't miss any food or spots because I am just a helpless old lady at the end of the day.” She gets a small smile to form at his lips as she shows him exactly how to rinse. An easy task, but one that he was never taught. That triggers something in her head that makes her think he was told he only has one purpose in life. No one only has a single purpose in life. “Who are your parents Reg?” She notices him tense at the question and immediately regrets asking.
“Orion and Walburga Black.” Simple and straightforward answer. He doesn’t want to talk about them. She nods and hums in acknowledgement. Passing the last few dishes in silence, she drains the sink and turns to look at him.
“So, what did Marigold and Bluebell tell you to convince you to come with them this summer?” She smiles at him as his whole demeanor changes. He smiles that same small smile but he visibly relaxes.
“First off, Marigold… Bluebell? What the fuck kinda names are those.” Eloise laughs in surprise. “Second, we watched tiktoks half drunk together for two hours while the rest of the team socialized.” She nods her head, that does sound like what those two would do. “And Third, I have been needing to get away from my brother and his boyfriend so they can boink in peace and not have to worry about me hearing.” He looks at her and his smile drops off his face. “Sorry, Leo told me you were laid back and I thought it would be alright to share this type of stuff with-”
“Reg I think you are a wonderful man who is going to keep those two pea-brains in line while on the road. Maybe loosen up a little yourself.” She smiles. “Is it alright if I give you physical affection? I tend to be a touchy person and not realize it.” He pauses for a moment and then nods, she pats his cheek and smiles as the other two walk back into the kitchen.
Reg is still a little stunned when Clay throws his arm around his shoulder and jostles him around.
After kisses and hugs goodbye Leo hops into the driver's seat, Clay in the passenger and Reg in the middle seat of the back. Reg has barely seen a truck in his life but this vehicle was fucking huge. Giant. Thicc some might say. The first few hours of driving was a podcast that Clay was in the middle of listening to when he picked up Reg. Once that ended Reg descended into music hell.
He has come to the conclusion that most country songs are about the three G’s.
Guns, God, Goodies (meaning like titties)
He was absolutely taken aback by how Leo was screaming, we can’t call it singing its terrible, these songs that are the complete opposite of him. Clayton at least liked goodies. There was one song that will probably stick with Reg his entire life. Redneck Woman by Gretchen Wilson.
Holy shit. When that song came on it was like Leo and Clay were having a contest of who could sing it the loudest. So, Reg decided that for his first check in with the team. Which Sirius was making him do because he is paranoid. Reg decided he would turn around in his seat and film a video of him painfully smiling and giving a thumbs up to the camera as Leo and Clay scream at each other.
“I’M A REDNECK WOMAN AIN’T NO HIGH PRICE GAL!”
Clay sees Reg recording and flips off the camera still singing. An hour later they pull up to this massive ranch style AirBnB with stables and all. It must have cost a fortune. Reg hops out of the truck and feels out of place, Yeehaws everywhere. Okay, there were like three of them and this giant man with long hair and a braided beard, covered in tattoos just reading a book on the front porch.
“That's our tattoo artist, he travels with us because he is the only person Leo and I trust to tattoo us. You’d like him, his name is Hagrid. But, no time to chit chat! We need to teach you some of the basics, we’ve got a rodeo in two nights. I am competing on Leroy and Peanut is just here for fun. How about we teach you how to care for them a bit?” Clay smiles at him and Reg remembers he is with people who want to be friends with him… for him. Not because of hockey or his family, not because his brother made them. Just for him. Reg went willingly with Clay to watch Leo as he led the horses one by one out into a pen for them to roam around in for a bit.
Clay went into more detail about how they care for them and what he thinks Reg can do. It was night already so they decided to go inside, Leo asked around to see what people were hungry for and made almost anything after someone had got groceries.
“I didn’t know you could cook.” Reg was sitting across the island from Leo as he finished up the food, having watched him make the entire meal.
“Mama taught me how to cook when I was younger, it was the one thing I did that wouldn’t get me in trouble with the law.” He rolls his eyes at the thought of the sheriff and Reg decides not to press. “What do you want to do tomorrow while Clay practices?”
They got wasted. Mostly on jello shots, Leo taught Reg the trick: rim job, blow job, swallow. Leo had promised the boys he would call them, he didn’t want to do it drunk but he misses them like crazy. Drunk or not he was going to call them. So, there he is sitting on the balcony out of his bedroom waiting for them to answer. Finn picks up first, shirtless and sweating.
“Okay Finn, I love this” Gesturing in a circle at Finn who just smiles out of breath and wipes his face with a towel. “But I need you to calm down, because I’m a little tipsy and that means I’m very horny.” He smiles when Finn laughs.
“Well I’m glad to know that even on truth serum you find me attractive.” Finn sets his phone down but props it up on some books as he finishes his warm down stretches from his run he just came back from.
Then Logan picks up, in Leo’s T shirt he left for him last time. It was baggy on him and his hair was messed up from sleeping. The side of his face is a little red and there are lines from his pillow squished into his face. He sleepily smiles at the camera.
“Hi Leo.” Leo groans in response and leans his head back.
“You two are gonna be the death of me. Fucking Christ.” He signs and looks at Logan who is suddenly bright red but smiling back. “You’re beautiful Sweet Pea.”
“Really?” Logan looks at him with such big unbelieving eyes that it breaks Leo’s heart.
“Mhm you and Finn make my little heart do a pitter-patter every time I think of y’all.” Being drunk Leo’s accent is incredibly thick.
“You sound like a true southern man there, Le. How is Texas?” Finn is sitting on the ground criss cross with his hands resting on his knees. Logan has laid back down and snuggled up with his blanket on his side. “You’ve been there a day right?”
“Yes sir! I have been here for a full 27 hours now and I can say, it ain’t no Louisiana but it’ll do.” He shows off his chipped tooth and hears a trilling sound on his railing and looks over to see a mama opossum with her babies hanging on her back. He smiles and flips the camera. “Look at This Little Mama!” He reaches his hand out and she looks at it suspicious. Logan told Leo to stop and Finn said no, but he knows what he’s doing.
To their surprise, the mama just lets Leo pet her under her chin and Finn takes so many pictures. The opossum lets Leo pet her babies with his finger and he pats her head on last time before he goes inside to flop on his bed.
“So, We’ve been thinking” Leo lifts his phone to be above his face as he slowly starts dozing off. “We want to come out.” Leo’s eyes snap open and he drops the phone on his face, rolling over to his stomach he wiggles his nose as he processes what Finn just said.
“Wait, like all three of us or just your two?”
“Well, we thought we would leave that up to you…”
“I think to start, it would be safest for all of us, if you two came out together first. We can talk about me coming out when I’m done traveling this summer, okay?” They all smile at each other nervously and Finn notices a couple of watery sniffles from Logan, they were going to talk to Dumo and Sirius tomorrow. Maybe then they can talk more.
“Leo, do you want to move in… in the fall? Winter? I mean you don’t have too but I would like it and I bet Logan would too. We miss you.” Finn has his fingers crossed where the others can’t see.
Silence.
“I would love to, let me give you my Mama’s number. She will be so glad to get me out of the house the rest of the year.” He laughs a little, they fall into a comfortable silence and Leo drifts off, fully dressed in his boots and everything. Clutching his phone like he never has.
Finn knocks on the Dumias door the next day. Nervous about this talk they are going to have with the other French speaking people. Finn can’t speak French so he hopes they don’t start speaking it because he will just up and leave. Logan opens the door and Finn can’t help the soppy smile that crosses his face when he sees Logan in his sweatshirt. He wondered where it went. Logan and Him walk into the dinning room where Sirius and Dumo are talking about new plays they want to practice. They look up when they enter the room and stand across from them.
“Dumo, Sirius I need you to mind your fucking business.”
“What he means to say is why did you tell Leo that he hurt Logan?” Finn translated.
“I was the one that hurt Leo! Leo did nothing and you guys fucking made him doubt us even more!” Logan crossed his arms and Finn rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
“What? That's why you were so sad? Because of something you did… Logan, I know we sound like broken records at this point but please start talking to us.” Dumo looks at him with a slightly frustrated look in his eyes but also worry. It makes Logan’s skin crawl.
“I think you meant well with the shovel talk, but Logan was the one who broke things off with Leo before it even started. He told Leo we didn’t want him and all this other shit that was Logan being… scared.” Finn feels Logan take his hand and interlock their fingers. He looks at the smaller man and squeezes his hand as a way to say, I’m here.
Dumo and Sirius didn’t get another word in before Logan was dragging Finn out the door. Staying at his apartment for a few days. Lo already has some clothes there and… they had to film something special.
Rodeo the next day went well. The after party was even better.
They were in a large steel building with everyone, concrete floors covered in dirt with people swinging dancing their hearts out. Leo was drinking and Clay was drinking, they somehow managed to lose clay about twenty minutes ago. Reg was getting a facetime from Sirius and answered it so Sirius doesn’t worry, the music is so loud that he can barely hear him until a less background heavy song comes on and Leo is humming it while drinking out of his red solo cup.
“Reg where are you!?” Sirius was yelling because it was so loud and Remus was in the background trying not to laugh.
“I’m at an after party! Are you with the team?” Sirius nods and flips the camera to show everyone and Leo’s eye catches his boys.
“FINN! LOGAN!” He yells super loud so everyone turns to face sirius’ phone. “IF YOU WERE HERE RIGHT NOW I WOULD TOTALLY SUCK YOUR DICKS IN THE BATHROOM! AT THE SAM- CLAY!” Leo sees Clay in the ocean of people and scurries off before finishing his sentence. Reg looks back at his phone and shrugs. Finn and Logan are bright red and getting chirped to hell for sure but the music is so loud that he can’t hear them.
“I’ll call you when I get back to the BnB!” Sirius nods and hangs up. Wrestling two drunk idiots into an uber is fine but getting them out was like untangling headphones that you left in your pocket for three years.
Just legs everywhere.
Hands? Don’t know how to use them.
Braincell? Reg has it.
At some point Clayton started crying because a guy he thinks he has a crush on has a girlfriend and he isn’t Leo so he can’t convince two people to love him. Very dramatic. Leo thinks he lost his phone, even though he gave it to Reg at the beginning of the night, and he is worried someone will find it and steal his nudes for their own. Reg doesn’t even know how to respond to that.
Waking up the next morning. Leo has a mild headache, but nothing that will stop him from driving. It was going to be a good day. Especially when Leo got his phone back and saw a tiktok notification from Finn and Logan.
They came out last night.
Time to wreak havoc.
#leo knut#logan tremblay#finn o'hara#james potter#thomas walker#Clayton Bruss#o'knutzy#o’knutzy#lumosinlove#sweater weather#coast to coast
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𝟙. these men are still wild after turning 30, can you imagine how they were back then? louie remembers it painfully vivid.
𝟚. after a looong time he finally opened up about his sexuality.
𝟛. he's the most serious and introverted member but the most expressive singing, according to everyone.
𝟜. lowkey highkey scares them.
𝟝. had to always tell them to shut up when they lived together (living alone is like heaven).
𝟞. even though there's no official leader position after jay park left the group, the members think louie act as a leader the most.
𝟟. but still, you do need crackhead energy to be on 2pm so let's say he adapted himself to live on chaos lol
𝟠. japanese fans gave him the nickname "neko" for having the personality of a cat, soon koreans and 2pm started calling him that.
𝟡. they often go to his opera concerts to show support.
𝟙𝟘. the members' daily goal is making him laugh til he tears up, which did happen a few times.
𝟙. tired granpa and tired cat, a perfect duo.
𝟚. "yah, stop bothering louie. he'll get angry."
𝟛. predebut jun.k and louie did not get along as jun.k often broke jyp's rules and louie didn't want to get involved on his mess.
𝟜. louie visited him lots of times during his enlistment, he also goes to all of his solo concerts.
𝟝. the day louie asked him to help producing his first pop solo album, jun almost died of happiness.
𝟙. mom and dad, aka the mature ones.
𝟚. nichkhun is really supportive about his career as a contertenour singer and travelled to new york to watch his performances when louie was studying in juilliard.
𝟛. the only member who reacted with "i know, it's alright" when he told about being gay.
𝟜. "you never talked about women in 10 years, also you were so uncomfortable during our a.d.t.o.y promotions. it was obvious, louie."
𝟝. the calm and quiet duo.
𝟙. the most introverted and the most extroverted, i think y'all know where this is going.
𝟚. it's awkward to talk in korean when they're alone, also taec thinks louie is much funnier in english as he's more sassy and sarcastic.
𝟛. taec discovered that intuitive conversations about not-so-superficial topics tend to last longer than small talk. for outsiders it may seem they have nothing in common, but taecyeon thinks louie is the perfect person to talk about serious matters. i just love their friendship.
𝟜. one time they spent the whole night talking about their careers, family, future and dreams and it's something taecyeon never forgot.
𝟝. not taec laughing like a hyena when louie dissed song joong-ki's italian pronunciation watching vincenzo.
𝟙. prolly the only member who is able to make him laugh without any effort.
𝟚. "i just laughed because i felt bad for you."
𝟛. wooyoung being the bravest member to roast louie for the sake of entertainment (and regretting it 5 seconds later).
𝟜. "guys, hyung is scary :( he just said he's going to throw me out the window if I don't keep quiet."
𝟝. jokes aside, wooyoung is such a precious man and he's in touch with his feelings despite being a clown. he thinks wooyoung is adorable so he just let him go.
𝟙. his least favourite little shit lol
𝟚. well he's a brat towards the hyung line, louie is no exception.
𝟛. junho say he thinks opera is boring, but he actually listen all of louie's albums and will fight whoever says he is not talented.
𝟜. guess who did watch all of junho's dramas and said he prefers the characters over the actor? lol
𝟝. "even seo yul (character he acted) is less annoying than junho."
𝟙. "i raised you well, do not disappoint me."
𝟚. louie really raised chansung. paying his meals, taking care of him, visiting him during his enlistment, bringing food and sending food trucks as a gift when he finishes solo projects.
𝟛. he watches his dramas and is more supportive of him than he is to junho lol
𝟜. "people misunderstand louie hyung as cold but he's actually a good person and look after me a lot, just like a real brother."
𝟝. the hyung who bullies him the least out of the members.
#louie.exe#2pm addition#7th member of 2pm#deluxeocnet#aesocnet#mochiocnet#male!addition#idol!oc#kpop oc#2pm#male addition
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When taking breaks between exercising I check my messages and respond to some fans. One question that stood out to me was from someone in Brazil. He asked: Is walking topless legal in Canada? He mentioned that it's normal in Brazil and that they have many festivals where women wear costumes that are very revealing. His question got me thinking. As a first world industrial nation we sure are behind when it comes to liberties to our personal bodies and we are super conservative in comparison to most of the world in South America and Africa, among other countries. In my opinion, there is no free society without freedom of the body.
One fan also asked who takes my pictures and solo videos. I use a tripod with my cellphone. I'm the amateur queen in female solo content.
If you are following my activities you'll know I go trucking with my boyfriend and since Covid-19 mandates prohibited non-essential travel I stopped trucking. Now things are lifting and borders are opening to non-essential travelers I can go back on the road trucking again. I'm so looking forward to being on the road again.
The mugs in the picture above I bought from Loves Travel center in the USA. The yellow mug is newer. The silver mug was yellow when I got it but repeated washing took the color out and now it looks silver lol :)
This picture is at the Center of Canada where symbolically East meets West, a touristic stop to take pix freezing temperatures or not.
The smaller things in life usually are the ones that stand out, the experiences are priceless.
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A Study in Dirt and Stars
September 30 Day Writing Challenge
Prompt: cloud/star gazing
Part one of the five part as-yet-unnamed series. (If you think of a name, let me know in the comments!) Each part will take place a good amount of time apart from each other.
Summary Star Wars AU with fem!reader and Poe Dameron as best friends/roommates (more?) and grad students- reader in archaeology, Poe in history/library science. In this part, the two get stuck when Poe’s old truck breaks down and they have to wait for a tow truck.
Triggers none, unless you have an issue with waiting for tow trucks or dirt/dust. Oh, they do swear too.
Tags: @make-me-imagine
Other tags: light angst, two idiots in love, mutual pining, would this count as angst?
The sound of shovels clanging together startled you out of your focus. You’d been reading up on bioarchaological research methods- something so boring most would fall asleep even thinking about it. You, however, find the whole thing fascinating, enough to dedicate your life to it. That sound was the announcement by your students that the day was done. Normally you’d have let them know this, but in that focus you’d lost track of time.
You shout “Nice work today everyone! Same time tomorrow!” even though you didn’t even notice their actual work. Hey, as long as they didn’t fuck anything up enough that it can’t be fixed, no one would ever know.
The university held a field school for archaeology students every year, mostly upper level bachelors students and the occasional early masters students. Given your status as almost graduating from the masters program, you were easily chosen by your favorite professor to GA the class. Which meant, per your professor, you’d be the one in charge for day-to-day goings on. But if you succeeded at this, it’d be a great addition to your work experiences. Very helpful for getting a job in this field.
Which leads you to look around, seeing that your slightly early dismissal was taken advantage of by the students- they left the equipment strewn about the site without regard for how long it would take you to clean up after them. They’d be in for definite trouble in the morning, you’d make sure of it.
You heard the sound of truck tires coming down the dirt lane that was the only access point for your site. You look up to see your friend coming to pick you up. With your car in the shop- all that dust was not good for the engine- he was your only choice if you were to get to and from work.
“Hey there, Indiana. Discover the ark of the covenant yet?” shouted Poe from the driver's seat.
“Not yet. Did you manage to run out of books in the library yet?” you shout back.
It was always like this between you two. You’d been friends since your freshman year when you took intro to anthropology together. For him, it was a gen-ed class; for you, it was the start of your career path. He was a history major, now working on his masters, like you. He had managed to get a job in the university’s library, though he would probably describe it like he had gotten a job at the Smithsonian. But joking between the two of you was more natural than having normal conversations. One year, he decided to get you a hat for your birthday, one that was suspiciously like that worn by the movie archaeologist. From then on, he called you Indiana instead of your name as an inside joke between the two of you.
You wouldn’t ever tell him- but you kind of liked it.
“Can’t leave quite yet, Mr Librarian. The students left this place a mess, and if Professor Solo decides to pop by the site in the morning with it looking like this I’d lose all hope of ever getting a job.”
“So? I can help! As long as these aren’t some kind of state-of-the-art technology shovels.” he teased. You could tell, he just wanted to get home. And even with the both of you working together, this could take a while.
About two hours later, once everything was packed up for the night, Poe went to start the truck so you could get home to your shared apartment (who better to be roommates with than your best friend?). And it wouldn’t start. He tried again, and again. Nothing. I guess even momentary exposure to this dust could mess with an engine, you thought. Or maybe his twenty year old truck had just finally kicked the bucket. You’d teased him about that truck for a while now, always joking about it someday just giving up and leaving him stranded somewhere.
Of course, you’d always imagine yourself as coming to his rescue, not being stranded with him.
“I guess you were right about it up and dying someday.” admitted Poe. “So are we walking or what?”
“It is getting dark, but it will take forever to walk back to the university. We could call a tow truck? Sit around waiting until it gets here?” you suggest. “It gets so beautiful out here. Without as much light pollution, the stars really shine bright.”
Poe was never one to turn down an activity that involved astronomy. That was his ‘secret’ hobby. He told you once that his dream when he was a child was to travel among the stars, but with that not accessible to him, the best he could do was study those who made the advancements in astronomy.
The tow truck would take at least an hour, the lady from the dispatch center told you. It was the bad luck of location and calling on a busy night. You didn’t mind, it was more time to spend with your best friend.
“It’d probably be more comfortable to lay in the back than in the dirt.” suggested Poe. You knew that wasn’t the only reason he suggested it. He also hated getting dirty, so the idea of laying directly in recently disturbed dirt had to be unthinkable to him. (This was another thing you teased him about often.) However, this time he did have a slight point. If anything, it would probably stretch your back out more than the ground could.
With both of you perched on the end of the truck bed, you watched the stars together. Poe pointed out the various constellations. Even though you knew most of them already, you let him continue because you knew how happy it made him. Not much of a sacrifice to keep your best friend/roommate, you thought. You zoned out while he started rattling off facts about famous astronomers. He’d be the one to know all this- astronomy+history would always mean Poe would know about it.
You thought about how nice this was. The two of you laying back, talking, nowhere to be until the morning. You could get used to this.
Every so often, you’d chime in with a fact about the mythology behind the names of the constellation. Poe assumed you knew these from your anthropology classes during your undergrad. Truth was, you’d learned them for him. That way you had something to add to the conversation when he was discussing astronomy, which was frequently.
It was inevitable that the tow truck did eventually show up, and your night of stargazing would end. It never seemed like two hours had gone by with just you and Poe laying there together. And just like that, your evening together was over.
When you eventually get back to your apartment, it’s past midnight and all you want to do is take a shower to get all the dust, dirt, and sweat off of you from that hell of a day you had yesterday. “Maybe I’ll call Professor Solo in the morning, see if he can take over for the day.” You think. After all, shouldn’t he be teaching his own class?
And maybe, if by some miracle your car was ready to be picked up before noon, you could return the favor by driving your boyfriend best friend to work.
You stop yourself in your tracks. God. Did I just think what I thought I did?
Yeah. After a day like that, your brain had to be at least a little scrambled, right?
At least you didn’t say it out loud. Poe would never stop teasing you about that.
When the two of you got home after midnight, Poe was beyond exhausted. Luckily, he wasn’t scheduled to work until after noon tomorrow. Or, with it being after midnight, would that be today?
Whatever. I just need sleep, Poe thought.
But he couldn’t sleep that night. (Morning? Every time Poe thought about that it made his head hurt.) He was too wrapped up in thinking about the night you just spent stargazing together. Just laying there, talking, sharing space facts and constellation myths.
He just couldn’t get past the relationship the two of you had. No pressure, no one constantly asking when they’d get together already. Just two grad students, hanging out and having a good time together.
Maybe, Poe thought, he could even be glad his car broke down while picking up his girlfriend best friend from work.
Wait, Poe though. Not my girlfriend, my best friend. I’m not ruining our friendship because I had one thought about her that way. Besides, he continued, who knows if she’d even like me that way.
Poe did fall asleep a little while after that, but not before sending in a request to his boss for a sick day. There was no way he’d get enough sleep to go to work tomorrow.
Author Note- I appreciate any comments/likes/reblogs if you would! Also, this is my first fan fiction published on Tumblr, so please be nice (and leave constructive criticism if you have any). I’ll probably also post this to Archive of Our Own at some point, but for now it’s only on Tumblr.
I have to say, I do enjoy writing for my two idiots here. Next chapter/part will be published on 9/10, so come back for that if you like this. And if you really like this, message me to be tagged in the next part.
#meras30daywritingchallenge#star wars au#star wars fan fiction#Poe Dameron#fan fiction writing#writing challenge#still new to this#these two are idiots#angst?#i dont know
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roadtrip headcanons (requested)
i think they’d all have a different vibe and a different energy. i didn’t really rank them best to worst, i just explored what i think the vibe of a road trip with each of them would be like. i also let loose and slipped in some super self-indulgent personal hcs/one-shot au idea that is a WiP about ezra as an intriguing handsome stranger you encounter on your solo cross-country road trip. as a treat. s/o to @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa for suggesting whiskey’s fav song.
frankie morales is the road trip king. no matter how spontaneous, frankie can whip a road trip plan together smoothly. he’s got a spacious truck, he’s got a cooler, he’s got the coziest blankets, he’s got the travel pillow, he’s got the camping gear, he knows the best scenic routes, he’s got the best classic tunes, he’s got the best snacks. he makes homemade sandwiches and burritos, wraps them tightly in tin foil. he heats up frozen pizzas, cuts them into slices. he stores it all in the cooler for lunches. when the supply runs out, you gorge yourselves on burgers and fries at roadside diners. but every morning he’ll stop in the nearest town to buy some apples, or some fresh fruit/veg of some kind. if they’re ripe he’ll get avocados that he’ll cut in half for you both to scoop out with a spoon to eat plain while you sit together in the bed of his truck in the shade of a lake you’ve stopped at for the afternoon. but he surprises you with your favourite junk food and snacks. he lets you borrow his cap if the sun is in your eyes; he’s got a spare, more threadbare one in the glove box. he’s low key done the research on the best places for stargazing; you lie back nestled together under a blanket, in the bed of his truck, gazing upwards; you listen as he describes the constellations, tracing them out with his finger.
max phillips. business road trips but max’s...condition necessitates driving at night only. liminal spaces. driving through the night, sleeping in business hotel rooms during the day, dust motes floating in the thin streams of sunlight peeking through the cracks in the curtains you’ve pulled shut. you see incredible sunsets and sunrises from the highway. you also see some undeniably weird shit late at night on road trips with max. he watches you eat breakfast food at 2 am in neon lit 24/7 diners. while on the road he passes you lots of candy throughout the night; he stocks up from the hotel vending machines. but no matter how much caffeine and sugar he tries to fuel you with, sometimes you’re lulled to sleep by the peacefulness. you nestle your head against max’s shoulder; it’s not the most comfortable position to drive in but he can’t bring himself to readjust and shift away from you. solitary brightly lit gas stations that are like an oasis of light breaking the pitch darkness. the two of you feel utterly alone sometimes; the world has shrunk down to only you, max, in this car, driving along this empty, dark stretch of road, a blush of purple on the edge of the horizon signalling the dawn.
based on how oberyn canonically took his daughters to explore an abandoned holdfast, i think his road trip energy would be all about the journey and not the destination. road trips with oberyn and ellaria would be meandering and adventurous. sometimes you’re riding shotgun and sometimes you’re sitting in the backseat with ellaria laid out and napping beside you, sun hat dipped down covering her eyes, her long legs stretched across your lap. if the three of you come across a motel you enjoy he’ll feel no urgency to leave; the days blur together and soon you’ve spent a week soaking up sun by the pool and sleeping in late entangled together in a pile of limbs after long passionate nights. day by day you may not even travel very far; he wants to stop and explore. hike amidst rock formations, swim in hot springs, explore the local museums; whatever catches his or your fancy. if he sees a billboard on the side of the road advertising local caves, or a petrified forest, or hears rumour of nearby ghost town that’s all but disappeared off the map, you’ll suddenly find yourselves veering off down small country roads, hours from the highway, seeking out pleasure, adventure, mystery.
marcus has a hilton rewards card so you’re staying at hilton garden inns every night. clean sheets. comfortable beds. complimentary breakfast. it’s very pleasant. middle class fancy. holds out his hand for you to drop some snacks into his palm so he can remain focused on the road while you’re both munching. let’s you curate the spotify playlists.
roadtrips with javier are always last minute decisions to just take off, head to a gorgeous but isolated beach you’d heard about that’s a few days from here. he doesn’t get many opportunities for long stretches of time off, so when he does you don’t hesitate. you might not even wait for a rational time to leave. it’s midnight and you guys just speed off into the darkness. you just threw some essentials into a bag, jumped in his jeep, and booked it. you gotta buy toothpaste and toothbrushes at a gas station, and you borrow javi’s deodorant stick because you forgot yours. greasy fast food containers, half-empty cigarette packs, and snack wrappers litter the dashboard. his aviators perched on his nose, one hand resting on the wheel, the other curled around your thigh, javi on a road trip is relaxed. he’s leaving all his burdens, his worries, everything weighing on his chest, all of it, behind him. literally, the more distance you guys put between yourselves and where you were, the more uplifted his spirits. when your favourite song comes on the radio, and you’re shimmying in your seat, he can’t keep his eyes off you, his gaze flicking between you and the road. he sings along under his breath, bobbing his head almost imperceptibly and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, a slow smile spreading across his face.
whiskey pulls up to your house at 5 am on the dot, the obnoxious custom sound of the horn of his bronco rattling the windows and scaring the birds out of the trees lining the street. country music jams ONLY. you argue over his taste in music; does he enjoy being a walking cliche? he will not accept any song that doesn’t have a twang to it. he’d be an aux cord hog if he knew what an aux cord even was. so much for your favourite spotify road trip playlists. “spot fly? spot what fly, where?” still has mixtapes he made himself, the same ones he’s been playing since forever. forces you listen to all his favourite songs, the ones he knows all the words to, while he obnoxiously sings along and ignores your eye-rolling. but he doesn’t ignore how your feet start tapping absentmindedly to toby keith’s ‘whiskey girl’. the corner of his mouth quirks up in a smirk that quickly becomes a broad grin as he reaches over to smack your thigh, laughing he’ll make a country girl of you yet. startled out of your daze, you vehemently deny you weren’t enjoying the song, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. he insists he knows the best places to stop, which means you always end up driving far off the highway to some little mom and pop diner that has killer apple pie for lunch. in the evenings you always end up in some honky-tonk bar that’s joined to a motel and yes, there’s line dancing, and yes he manages to twist your arm and convince you to join in.
ezra…..as a man who’s floated from planet to planet, following jobs and leads, for the better part of his life, he’s found himself smooth-talking his way into being a lot of people’s unexpected travel companion out of necessity over the years. road trip ezra is on the run from someone or something; maybe the law, maybe not. all you know is this beautiful, mysterious stranger you met under dubious circumstances somehow, with his roguish grin and drawling accent, his kind eyes and eloquence, convinced you to let him ride along with you. you ran into him in the grungy diner attached to an even grungier motel in some desolate nowhere town. you recognized him; he’s unmistakably the lone figure on the side of the dusty road, his thumb stuck out, that you drove past yesterday. you’d driven past but that blonde streak had been unmissable and you won’t admit it but you’d felt his gaze on you long after you’d left him in the dust. ezra’s endless chatter on the road isn’t unwelcome; he knows seemingly innumerable facts about local folklore, flora, and fauna, and he never seems to be depleted of stories. you’d made the conscious and contrary decision to make this cross-country road trip alone, rebelling against a lot of cautionary advice, but somewhere along the way loneliness had creeped in under your skin and settled there. this handsome stranger may have an edge of danger to him but later when he’s bringing you to heights of ecstasy in a motel room you won’t give a damn.
maxwell lord flies everywhere in a private jet. the worst.
din djarin’s entire life is basically one long never-ending road trip. but in space. i figure earth-bound din on a conventional road trip would basically be how we see him: no nonsense. no frivolities. no music; travels in total silence. gets where he needs to go. stops for soup, as needed. stops for repairs, as needed. stops to work an odd job with some really sketchy people for some gas money, as needed. din’s road trip energy would be like that john mulaney joke. you’d see the mcdonalds sign lit up and shining in the distance and plead for him to stop so he’d pull into the drive-thru, order one black coffee and keep driving. except if you’ve got the baby with you; he gets a chicken nugget happy meal for the kid. he’s a good papa! and of course you’d get whatever you wanted too, he provides and cares for his loved ones after all.
SEND ME ANY QUESTIONS/HC PROMPTS/REQUESTS YOU HAVE
#pedro pascal x reader#javier pena x reader#ezra prospect x reader#frankie morales x reader#agent whiskey x reader#oberyn martell x reader#frankie morales headcanons#javier pena headcanons#ezra headcanons#agent whiskey headcanons#oberyn martell headcanons#all the boys headcanons#headcanon requests#fleetwood writes
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hello <3 chapter 28 preview is below the cut! it's shaping up to be more of a collection of short stories than one continuous story, so i made the time jumps '~' instead of '***' :)
different and domestic this time around <3
The day after Christmas, the largest snowstorm the Midwest had seen in 30 years subsided, and Big Time Rush, their assistant, and family members were able to get their flights rescheduled so they could spend some time back home before the new year.
Though Roxy and Declan had to part with the boys, Katie, and Mrs. Knight at their flight gate, it didn’t stop the young writer and her boyfriend from a parting goodbye that felt as though it belonged in an old black and white movie. To an onlooker, it might have seemed as though James and Roxy would never see each other ever again when in reality, he was flying to Duluth and she was flying to Green Bay.
Somebody had to collect the ancient Somerset family truck, Dynamo, from Wisconsin, and Roxy certainly wasn’t going to make her father do it alone, especially after his wonderful holiday surprise of meeting her in Los Angeles so they didn’t spend Christmas apart. Despite it adding five more hours to their travel time to Duluth, she was more than happy to spend it with him.
More than once on the way to the airport, Roxy asked James to come with her and her father to Green Bay, but he unfortunately had to decline the invitation. He assured her he’d much rather spend the time with her, but his father was already made aware of their flight plans and was going to meet him and Carlos at the Duluth airport to take them both home.
So, the pair had a dramatic farewell - James being entirely over the top as he quietly double-checked to make sure his girlfriend had taken her air sickness medication and Roxy clinging to him so tightly she probably left a few crescent-shaped indentations on his skin from her nails - and after a deep kiss and lots of groans from their friends, the two groups managed to go their separate ways through the bustling airport.
Admittedly, the songwriter was quite worried as she and her dad passed through the large crowds of people. This was the first time in her life she’d be taking a flight without James and that wasn’t sitting well with her. Even if he hadn’t been there for her on their first two flights, their solo trek back to Los Angeles at the beginning of the summer had been far different.
Of course, Roxy hadn’t realized it at the time, but It would be impossible for her to ever forget the jitters she felt when he held her hand during take-off or the way he checked on her whenever she finally felt well enough to weakly lift her head off his shoulder. Despite what felt like the entire world crumbling around them as they had jettisoned back out to California to work with a criminally insane record producer without their best friends, he had stayed awake the entire red-eye flight to comfort her as if she were the only thing in the world that mattered to him.
While she reflected, she could feel the smile tugging at her lips. I love being the center of his attention.
Just as the pair of them happened upon the correct gate, C10, Roxy heard her father mutter something as he stared out of the large, floor-to-ceiling windows. At the base of the plane they’d be traveling on, the luggage handlers were roughly loading everything into the spacious haul, including two identical black guitar cases.
“What was that?” She said teasingly, nudging him with her elbow as they continued to stare, watching as their items rode up the conveyor belt and into the luggage compartment.
Declan blinked before guiding his daughter to a few open seats in front of the airline help desk. “I said ‘This is why I hate flying.’ On top of the damn ticket check-in an’ obnoxious TSA screenings an’ ridiculously priced coffee,” He gestured to a small cafe in front of them advertising seven-dollar lattes, “They don’t even handle your things with care! He just threw a 300-dollar guitar on the belt like it was nothing!”
While his complaints were entirely valid, Roxy had known him more than long enough to know none of those reasons were truly what was riling him up. As they sat beside each other, she noticed his bouncing leg and tight grip on the armrest beside him. That, mixed with his fast-paced rambling and thickening of his Southern accent, told her one thing. Her father, the bravest man she knew, was anxious and she was pretty sure she could figure out why.
That explains why we’ve never flown anywhere together…
Roxy had figured it was simply because flying was expensive; She and her father hadn’t ever vacationed far from home - Always to locations within acceptable driving distance. But now, watching him fiddle with the zipper on his carry-on, she couldn’t help but chuckle.
Another nudge. “That’s the only thing you hate about flying?”
“I don’t care for the tiny, crowded seats, either.” His voice was barely heard over the hustle and bustle of other airport patrons around them.
“You’re so pessimistic.” She rolled her eyes.
“Well if you want me to say something nice, I suppose I can’t complain about the little peanuts they give you.”
“Those are only good if you can manage to keep them down.”
Finally, eyes widening, Declan caught drift of what Roxy was trying to get at. Apparently, airsickness ran in the family.
“No… Not you too, honey bun…”
Slowly, she nodded. “It would’ve been nice of you to warn me of that before I got on my first plane!”
“I was hoping it had skipped a generation. Sucks all the fun out of goin’ places, doesn’t it?” When he finally turned to face her, watching as she placed her carry-on luggage between her knees, he nervously rubbed one calloused hand over his tattooed forearm. “There’s only been three times in my life I’ve been on a plane. Once, your grammy took me to Disney World when I graduated eighth grade, then when I chased Dana from Austin to Duluth, and then again, yesterday, to meet you here.”
Grammy. Dana. Two people her father rarely mentioned, but both of them in one go? Unheard of.
Roxy swallowed, letting his words sink in. It was hard to figure out what to say whenever he brought up people from his past. Neither of those individuals were people he spoke to anymore, for good reason in her opinion, so the subject was always a bit touchy. For a moment, she wondered if her grandmother would be proud of the man he had become since cutting her off seventeen years ago.
She certainly was proud of him; There wasn’t any man on Earth better than her father.
“We’re tied then.” The girl settled on, ignoring the people Declan had mentioned entirely, reaching out to place one hand over his to help ease some of the tension. “Twice to LA, once to Duluth. They tried to get me on a plane during tour but I flat-out refused and took the bus cross-country instead. But you learn a few things when your job requires such consistent travel…” Using one hand to flip open the black flap of the mini backpack in her lap, Roxy rooted around for the small white capsule containing the Dramamine Mrs. Knight had offered her before their departure. “Take a few of these. It won’t really help, but sometimes it’s enough to trick your body into chilling out for the first half hour-ish. We’ll get through the rest together.”
Shockingly enough, Declan sighed, accepting the small tube from his daughter and swallowing two of the little pills dry. Then, slinging a lazy arm around her shoulder, he pulled her into a small half-hug. “That’s my girl. So grown up, jet-setting across the States with her pop band… You hardly need me to take care of you anymore, huh?”
That was true, she felt, and she admittedly had for quite some time, but she’d never, ever let him know that. It didn’t change their relationship in the slightest; It didn’t affect just how much love she had for him. “Don’t be silly, Dad, I’ll always need you to take care of me.”
~
Both Roxy and Declan had a miserable flight to Wisconsin, running to opposite sides of the plane like clockwork to take care of their sickness. Whenever they returned to their seats, however, they had a brief period of respite where they were able to weakly hold a conversation or talk about something that had been going on in their separate worlds.
Secretly, Roxy wished James were there, but respected the commitment he and his father had made to meet back in Duluth. Through most of her nausea, she couldn’t concentrate on much else, but when her head was clear enough, she sometimes wondered if he thought it was a chore to take care of her when they had flown back to Los Angeles together. The thoughts were unwelcome and hard to neglect, but she chalked it up to her illness as she burrowed into her Dad’s shoulder - when he was around at least - and tried to focus on the rock music flooding through their shared headphones.
Declan’s playlists always brought back welcome memories of the times he’d picked her up from school, the special songs he’d taught her to play on the guitar as she was growing up, every time he’d play music trivia with her while they made dinner together. The hold music had on both of their lives was simultaneously the same and vastly different, shaping who each of them were while together and apart. All the comforting feelings from the familiar guitar chords and rebellious lyrics eased the girl greatly, eventually allowing her to ward off her ailment enough to close her eyes and nod off for a while.
By the time they arrived in Green Bay, the pair were more than ecstatic to get off the plane as quickly as possible, and take one more trip to the bathroom, before gathering their additional luggage and guitars. While the hustle and bustle of this airport was nothing like LAX, it was still busy regardless, taking even more time to get to the parking garage from the influx of people heading out of the baggage claim. Each moment that ticked by where she wasn’t getting any closer to Duluth was a moment Roxy began to miss her friends even more.
It was strange, being so connected to the band she physically felt an emptiness when they weren’t near each other, but unsurprising. Those four had a way of digging into her heart since the very first moment they’d met and had been subtly carving themselves deeper and deeper with each passing day.
Aren’t you supposed to get tired of the people you spend every single moment of every single day with? She thought to herself, half-joking to try and dull the ache.
When they finally found the ancient, rusty blue truck in the airport parking lot, Declan realized something was bugging Roxy, so he let her pick the music for their long ride home. That was something he always did when she was in a bad mood; It was an unspoken invitation to talk it out or leave nothing said as they simply enjoyed each other’s comforting company to the sound of a background track.
First, she dug around in Dynamo’s glove box while her father took his place behind the wheel. Most of the tapes they had each made were in there, the ones they’d deemed travel-worthy anyway, along with the truck’s registration and various, small emergency supplies. The collection she had managed to pull out on her first try yielded one of the first tapes she had ever made - All her favorite songs from about five years ago - and the mix her dad had made for her to listen to as she was growing up. Each of them held 45 minutes on each side, so they’d have enough time to listen to both, and she popped in the cassette her father constructed to listen to first while he started up the vehicle.
After a few turns of the key, Dynamo’s engine loudly roared to life with a shutter that reached the entire cab. Another familiar feeling, one she certainly didn’t ever get in the Pontiac, as her father pulled the car out of its parking spot and the two began the journey home.
The idle small talk they had been making stopped the moment the first song began to play through the old, on the verge of blowing out speakers.
Being the music-obsessed man he was, of course, the first song Declan had chosen for his daughter’s tape was “Roxanne” by the Police. Not only was it one of his favorite songs of all time, but it had been the inspiration for her name.
“A musical name for my musical girl,” He’d always told her whenever he played the song for Roxy when she was younger. “This one was on the radio when I received the best news of my life…”
Declan claimed to have made many mistakes as a teenager, but assured her that listening to this song always reminded him that his life had turned out on the right track. Without “Roxanne” he’d never have fallen in love with music, he’d never have started his own band and discovered the emerging punk scene in his hometown of Austin, Texas, and without that, he’d have never had Roxanne.
When Roxy was old enough to begin to understand the lyrics and asked him what it meant to “put on the red light,” it had originally been to make him squirm, get him to admit that he didn’t really think about what it meant to name her after the song. Her rebellious phase hit quite swiftly once she turned thirteen, but dissipated about a year after, but now, she’d sometimes ask him randomly, for fun. In those cases, he’d ruffle her hair and make up a new absurd lie each time; Something silly and stupid, never truly telling her what it meant, though he knew for a fact she knew.
She suspected this song had something to do with her favorite color being red.
Leaning her head in the crook of her arm and staring out the window as they flew down the highway, Roxy reached for the dial and turned the volume up a few notches, but asked, “Tell me what putting on the red light means again?”
“Aren’t you listening to the song? She’s clearly using the light to interrupt a secret spy code!”
“Roxanne the spy does have a nice ring to it… Roxanne de la Rouge!”
He didn’t respond after that, though he did crack a small smile, simply tapping the wheel to the drum beat and checking the road signs to make sure they were on the right track.
The more cars they passed, the heavier her eyelids felt. Flying always took a lot out of her - Far more than she cared to admit. By the time the second song rolled around, “Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn’t’ve?)” by Buzzcocks, she was in and out of consciousness, thinking about how much she couldn’t wait to be back in Minnesota with her friends. At song three, “Real Cool Time” by the Stooges, she realized what a strange thought that was, considering months ago, that had been her worst nightmare.
Wherever we are… As long as we’re together, was her final conclusion, before slipping off to dreamland.
~
They stopped halfway home to have lunch at a diner off the side of the highway. It was a much-needed break, and a good idea for the pair to refuel at the gas station on the opposite corner, but in the blink of an eye Declan and Roxy were back in the truck, motoring as quickly as they could to get back home.
The grease dripping off of Roxy’s burger had settled nicely in her stomach, making her crave something from Duluth’s Bun In A Million; Still trying to wrap her head around the fact she was excited to be back in the Midwest.
By the time her tape of songs had run out, she hardly even noticed, spacing out as she stared at the miles of farmland whizzing by her window. Wordlessly, her dad reached out across the center console and nudged her to pull her out of her daze, pointing to the glove box.
Popping the small compartment in front of her open, Roxy blinked a few times to focus her attention and began to push various papers and items out of her way to find the other tapes they had stashed in Dynamo. It wouldn’t be so messy if he had just bought the tape organizer I told him to…
When her hands finally found something plastic under a box of bandaids, she pulled it out to discover a cassette she had never seen in the car before. Instead of the standard black of the blank tapes Declan had scattered all over their house, this one was bright white, with his smudged handwriting sprawled across the top.
BTR
Roxy could hardly contain the grin curling her lips as she hastily popped her mix out of the car’s stereo and inserted the recording of her band’s first album. Though it took a few seconds to play - Declan had never been the best at making pristine recordings - by the time the intro to “Big Time Rush” started she could hear his deep laughter standing out against the melody.
When their first album had been released, she had been sure to send a signed CD home as a testament to her songwriting ability. Though she had assumed her dad had tucked it away somewhere for safekeeping, she’d never have guessed he would’ve made a tape of it to listen on the go. When the first chorus hit, Roxy learned something else: Declan knew all the words.
It was almost enough for her to erupt in a fit of giggles, listening to him unabashedly belt out his declaration to go “big time” and at the bridge, she decided to join him in singing while playing air guitar to the chords she’d written her first night in Los Angeles.
The pair continued like that, through “Famous” and “Any Kind of Guy” and then the rest of the tracks, all the way to the end with “Stuck” when they were interrupted by the sound of Roxy’s phone going off.
Now “Boyfriend” was attempting to get into the song mix, with the writer swiftly taking her phone out of her back pocket and turning down the car’s stereo emphasizing the riff coming from the tiny cell speakers. A picture of her and James on their second-first date lit up her screen as she accepted the call.
“Hello?”
“Hey, babe! Just wanted to let you know we all made it home safe and sound.”
It wasn’t lost on Roxy that her dad snorted at James’ words; She mustn’t have had her speaker volume turned down enough.
Shifting the device to her right hand, she slugged Declan on the shoulder. “Ugh, I’m so jealous. We’ve still got about two hours left, I think.” By the way the sun was beginning to shine directly into her eyes, she guessed, “Probably won’t be back until way after dark.”
On the other line, she heard some background deliberation meaning James was probably with Kendall, Carlos, and Logan, and it took a second for him to respond, “The guys and I are going to kick it at Carlos’ for the night, think you can make it?”
How are they so go, go, go…
“As much as I’d love to, jet lag is kicking my ass. It’s time for a much-needed night in for me.”
“Suit yourself!” He laughed before lowering his voice. Roxy could practically imagine him turning away from his friends and cradling his phone to his ear while he said, “Let me know when you make it to town. Since I’m not there to kiss you goodnight in person-”
Immediately, her cheeks flushed before remembering where she was. “O-okay! Yes, I’ll… do that. Bye!”
His confused, “Bye?” hardly made it through the speaker before she ended the call, scrambling to put her phone back into her pocket and pretending to be very interested in the small town she and her dad were passing through out the window.
Declan shuffled a bit, the aging leather of Dynamo’s seats letting out a squeak in response. Soon after, “Stuck” ended and Roxy heard him flip the tape over to a live version of the unreleased “This is Our Someday.” A recording he must have made at their hometown concert over the summer.
Though she much preferred the guitar piece she had written for the live show, she hoped her dad would enjoy the studio version just as much.
While the song played, Roxy still stared out the window, trying to work through the complex emotions of being embarrassed by her unsuspecting boyfriend in front of her father. We sure are on a roll this week…
“He’s good to you, right?”
The girl felt her eyes widen, letting the question rattle around in her brain for a minute before sighing, “Dad…”
Music turned down to zero, Declan asked her again.
“I’ll call Jo and Camille. The three of you can deliberate on it,” Roxy tried to quip, wanting to have literally any conversation but this one with her father. If she could sink into her seat and disappear at this very moment, she probably would.
Leather squeaking again, Declan blew out a large puff of air. “Seriously, honey bun. Teenage musicians, they’re-”
“I know!”
Like really. I know. Not that her father ever needed to hear about Dak Zevon. If that went anything like their conversation after her fiasco with Mag last year, he’d probably end up with his face plastered on wanted posters on every street corner of California.
“Roxanne,” Declan said softly. “Please. Even with you living all the way across the country, I’m still your Dad. I gotta make sure.”
His daughter crossed her arms, pulling her knees up to her chest even with the uncomfortable seat belt cutting into her collarbone. “Yes, James is good to me.” Though that alone felt a bit unconvincing, and she audibly swallowed before following, “More like, perfect to me. He listens to me ramble about songwriting, always makes me feel like I’m the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, we never fight… We spend as much time together as possible and I’m really happy being with him.”
For someone who writes love songs… Damn, that was cliche.
“Okay, alright… Thank you.” Her father conceded, seemingly content with the answer she had given him. There was a beat of silence before he gripped the steering wheel tightener, “And you’re being safe?”
“Dad!”
Her exasperation was enough to get him to finally let out a little chuckle, “He’s your first boyfriend, Roxy! A boy and a musician. I’ve just gotta double-check!”
“We’re not-” The writer stopped herself from saying anything else in immediate response, doing her best to understand where her father was coming from. More than anyone, he understood her situation best. He had been a teenage boy and a musician - one who often proclaimed he hadn’t been safe when he was her age. His questions weren’t to annoy her, he just needed to fuel his peace of mind. “The last year has been the best year of my life. I’m not going to do anything that puts my future in danger.” Roxy turned away from the window, finally glancing over at her dad to catch his solemn nod of understanding. “And one day this might be easy to talk about, but it’s fresh, and it’s new, and… you’re my dad.”
Declan nodded again, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck at the response he had elicited from his daughter. “Yeah… Sorry for the ninth degree. I just love you. Loads.”
“Sorry for snapping back,” She mumbled, but she knew he didn’t care. As much as they’d pushed each other's buttons in the past, he’d never, ever been angry with her. “And I love you too.”
Catching his half smile as he kept his eyes on the road, Roxy felt herself begin to smile too. She had forgotten just what it felt like to have her dad around, and now the excitement of being home wasn’t all that confusing anymore.
She didn’t miss being in Duluth, she missed being around her father.
#thats all she wrote fic#subject to change before the final chapter is actually out! but it won't be by much
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The Michigan Fleet authors posted their AUs so here are mine
theunvanquishedzims: I have SO MANY Boat Boy ideas but I'm sitting on them because I came up with a bunch halfway through the book and they got jossed by the end rollerskatinglizard: Hah! Uhhh, sorry? I think?? theunvanquishedzims: (i.e. Basil gets sad and weepy over Rich and Liam flirting at a party, Trimmer plays fairy godmother a la ripping half his shirt off, giving him a pep talk, and sending him back out there to Win Back His Man) rollerskatinglizard: *whooping* theunvanquishedzims: Jossed so hard rollerskatinglizard:Okay, that's DELIGHTFUL rollerskatinglizard: Trimmer is the most terrifying fairy godmother rollerskatinglizard: Anything else? :Dc theunvanquishedzims: Lemme get my notes rollerskatinglizard: *gleeful wiggling*
theunvanquishedzims: Okay so I stopped reading when the Sympatico grabbed Rich during the storm and it took me a month or so to get back and finish, so I was under the impression that the ship was still being fixed in drydock and not, y'know, actually being crewed and sailed. (Trimmer yelling "just let her sink" hits reeeeeaaaallly different when you know that) rollerskatinglizard: Ahaha oh dang theunvanquishedzims: So the big idea was the gangsters needing something from the Sympatico. Not the general thugs and delinquents crewing the Sympatico but the actual organized crime of the Fleet, who were getting pretty used to using ships like the Sympatico to run their dirty deeds through. Except it's basically impossible to get what they need out of it, even when they drag out one of the old IST guys. He finally tells them Rich was the one who did the heavy lifting for the past few years rollerskatinglizard: Ooooh! rollerskatinglizard: What an interesting idea! theunvanquishedzims: Hang on I need to restart rollerskatinglizard: Ah yes, computers theunvanquishedzims: Sorry, that turned into a dinner break and running errands During which I came up with a couple new AUs theunvanquishedzims: Okay, back to mafia: they track Rich down, probably snag him after he's been out boarding. Off work, not expected back on the ship, tired from all the exercise, etc. They're not overtly threatening, just pick up his skimmer and politely suggest that he comes help them, and he probably goes quietly because there's like, six of them. I'm thinking only one of whom was actually posted on the Sympatico theunvanquishedzims: So they get back to the Sympatico. She's been temporarily decommissioned until the Fleet can fix her broken processes, but that's also a cover story by the mob. They want to clear out all the smuggled goods and information, but she's basically a ghost ship, silent and empty, and even the other IST guy couldn't get more than a few blinking lights. She's sulking basically, she knows they're not there to fix her so she's digging in her heels and playing dead. Like a toddler going ragdoll when they don't want to go to bed. theunvanquishedzims: They explain to Rich that they can't get a response and want him to take a crack at it. "Has she said anything?" "Who?" "The Sympatico." "...we didn't talk to it." "Well that's half your problem right there." theunvanquishedzims: At this point you should watch Show Yourself from Frozen 2, and the crystal scene from Atlantis the Lost Empire. Stepping into the place you've been called, making your presence known, and having a greater power reach out for you. Shiny lights, chasing the spark of life to its source, and having the power consume and embody you. Rich is used to it but it's probably pretty freaky from the outside, and way less magical-looking than a Disney movie. Probably more like when Magneto activated the machine in the first X-Men movie. Step up, turn it on, and suddenly it's sucking the life out of you, making you a living battery theunvanquishedzims: In my head I am picturing the glowing blue eyes, lights cracking along the skin like lightning or circuit patterns, the implants glowing in his temples, standing at a terminal like a star trek deck, maybe a faint breeze-like movement of the hair and clothes to indicate the sheer power radiating off of him. In reality it's probably more like he falls down, gets up, stumbles along to a good spot out of the weather, and curls up in a secluded defensible spot to stare emptily at the wall for a few hours while lights randomly go on and off around the ship theunvanquishedzims: Just being trailed by six very wary mafia dudes who have probably never seen someone mind-meld a ship, and definitely not solo. He's like a zombie, and when he does talk it's very clear he's talking for the both of them theunvanquishedzims: If any of them are in sync with the ship they definitely feel the !!!Rich you're back!!! vibe theunvanquishedzims: No idea how that resolves, I guess it depends on how powerful the mafia is. If they're the kind of entrenched criminals who are ongoing characters, then they have Rich scrub out what they need then dump him back on his skimmer to face the fallout alone. He might report it to the spooks? Or at least try to tell Basil and Mitch theunvanquishedzims: If they're not recurring characters then they were definitely being tracked by the spooks, who move in once the Sympatico comes back online. Rich has to answer some very tough questions but he cooperates fully and winds up digging up a LOT of dirt out of the Sympatico, now that the mafia showed him where to look. It's another one of the super traumatizing moments that makes him look cool and heroic. Oh yeah, totally got kidnapped, single-handedly piloted a ship, and helped bust the mafia, please stop talking about it, I need a nap, and also someone to go with me next time I go boarding. theunvanquishedzims: (And then I finished reading the book and found out that the Sympatico had a new crew and was out on the water with her AI still fried and broken, how did no one notice that)
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theunvanquishedzims: Okay I don't have Trimmer's voice well enough to write this fic so I'm feeding it to you raw: Trucker AU theunvanquishedzims: Rich is a long-haul trucker, much to the disappointment of his elder sister Angela, who is in law enforcement and thought he had a decent future in it too. Athena is a pro wrestler and totally down to support her brother traveling the country (and hopefully being in the same city as him sometime, she wants him to see her kick ass!) Rich wants to pursue a degree in [tech or engineering] but college is expensive, and trucking is a good way to make money, on top of which you don't have to pay rent when you're on the road. So he's saving up for school, probably listening to a lot of audiobooks, podcasts, and training guides while chugging along. theunvanquishedzims: Not nearly as bad or sketchy as the Sympatico, but life on the road can get pretty sketch sometimes, especially when you're alone. Enter Trimmer. Or rather, enter Rich into the middle-of-nowhere trucker stopover bar where Trimmer is getting his ass kicked. theunvanquishedzims: (Gonna go ahead and say the bar is called the Sympatico, and this is a very bad night to be there, which is saying something because any night at the Sympatico is a bad night to be there.) theunvanquishedzims: Fortunately, Rich is not trapped there by the cold uncaring waters of Lake Michigan, he can just turn around and leave when he sees the nightly fight brewing. Unfortunately, he has a weakness for cute twinks, and no matter how much the guy is insulting their mothers four on one is really not fair, so he winds up wading in, scooping Trimmer up, and murder-stalking to the exit theunvanquishedzims: [At this point I pause to stare out the window and wonder wistfully what their canon meeting was like, who approached who, if Trimmer just straight-up used his lunch to hire a bodyguard or if Rich did the "are you gonna finish that" puppy-eyes and Trimmer realized how easily he could be bribed, etc etc] theunvanquishedzims: In the Trucker AU Trimmer waits until they're outside to go feral goblin on the arm that's holding him, Rich drops him, and negotiation commences theunvanquishedzims: I don't have Trimmer's backstory nailed down, the "teenage runaway" archetype doesn't really suit someone with a large loving family, but safe to say that whatever lead him to hitchhiking across the Midwest he is determined to see through out of sheer bullheaded stubbornness. The only thing worse than calling your parents to bail you out with bus money home is calling your grandma. It might have involved stabbing a college advisor when the guy got rapey, he's technically not on the run from the law, he DEFINITELY is not on track to getting his degree. Halfway between college dropout and missing person. If he was wealthy he'd be backpacking Europe for a semester, but he's not, so he's hitchhiking America. And getting molested by truckers, because Trimmer can't have nice things. theunvanquishedzims: He is really not interested in getting molested by Rich! But, as Rich points out, he did just save him from getting stabbed, Trimmer doesn't seem to have any exit options for this backwater town, and holy #&$^ the bar's on fire. (The Sympatico burns to the ground that night, to the betterment of the world at large.) rollerskatinglizard: You have no idea how much I'm enjoying this But you should totally post it Splick and Roach would both scream in glee theunvanquishedzims: Rich and Trimmer get out while the getting is good, and it's nearly dawn before they finally hash out details. Rich offers to drop him off at the next town, but they're still pretty close to the epicenter of the mass exodus so the next few hundred miles are probably not going to be safe for Trimmer. By this point Trimmer has found a bunch of the old textbooks Rich bought secondhand to study in his free time and come to the conclusion that [this nerd is a nerd] his story checks out. Just a college kid trying to scrape together the cash to get an education and make a decent living. Reminds Trimmer of Trimmer. (Reminds Trimmer of Joey.) rollerskatinglizard: ;u; <3 Beautiful theunvanquishedzims: So now Rich has a little traveling buddy! Helps him stay awake on the long hauls, lets him use the carpool lanes, even reads to him out of the textbooks sometimes, with commentary. Trimmer is really smart and surprisingly easy to get along with. They nap in the cab, eat in diners, and share motel rooms. Trimmer unclenches a little. Rich is good about not asking personal questions. They definitely watch Athena's fights on tv more than once, much to Rich's chagrin and Trimmer's loud encouragement. He started fanboying over it to annoy and embarrass Rich, but it is surprisingly cathartic to watch someone get trash-talked and respond by just BODYSLAMMING their opponent. ("Why are you rooting for her, you're the biggest trash-talker I know," Rich mutters into his beer, face bright red as Trimmer whoops and high-fives the waitress he got to change the channel in the sports bar.) theunvanquishedzims: ("She would wipe the floor with me," Trimmer responds with a smirk, watching smugly as Rich tries to figure out if Trimmer is having impure thoughts about his baby sister) theunvanquishedzims: (They have already established that Trimmer does not have impure thoughts about Rich, that Rich DOES have impure thoughts about Trimmer, but as long as he stays in his own motel bed that's fine.) (Trimmer still sleeps with a knife under his pillow but doesn't bother in the cab, where their co-naps occasionally verge on snuggling.) rollerskatinglizard: <3 <3 <3 *perfect* theunvanquishedzims: They finally reach their destination. It has been [days to drive a rig between NJ and CA] and they make it there slightly ahead of schedule. Rich drops off the delivery, Trimmer comes face-to-face with the reality of the trip ending. He'd been hitchhiking for months and felt like he was going nowhere, and now a few days and suddenly he's crossed the entire country, and almost kinda maybe had fun doing it! And California's as good a place as any to stay, at least he won't freeze to death if he doesn't find a place to crash for the night. theunvanquishedzims: Then Rich comes back and hands him a wad of cash, pocketing a stack of his own. "Got a cash bonus for finishing early! And since you're the reason I made it here this fast, I just figured part of it is your share..." he peters out, trying to explain his reasoning. They sit in silence for a while, both thinking about Trimmer in California, far away from anyone who would want to hurt him, with a few hundred dollars in his pocket. theunvanquishedzims: "...Let's get lunch," Trimmer finally decrees, and Rich can't keep the relieved smile off his face. They renegotiate some things over lunch, and then go to pick up the next load to haul cross-country. Together. rollerskatinglizard: AWWWWWW!!!! *YES,* I love it!!! theunvanquishedzims: And then eventually they go to college together, and get their degrees, and good jobs, and meet the families, and Trimmer absolutely drags Rich to as many of Athena's fights as they can manage on the road. It's just to save money, things are cheaper when you split the rent, Trimmer hollers on the phone. You put a ring on that boy's finger, y'hear?! Hellbender hollers back. I am so glad the word moirail exists rollerskatinglizard: YES God yes Also this AU pleases me greatly rollerskatinglizard: Blessings upon you for it theunvanquishedzims: ...technically the Michigan Fleet takes place in a post-Homestuck world, so theoretically it could have time to enter mainstream lexicon. It's better than "bromance" theunvanquishedzims: JUST THROWING THAT OUT THERE >.> rollerskatinglizard: Yeah, totally different feel than bromance!
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theunvanquishedzims: Speaking of Homestuck! Wanna hear the Helmsman AU? :3 rollerskatinglizard: YES PLEASE theunvanquishedzims: Okay gimme a minute to get my notes, it's not based on One of Our Submarines but I can't remember the fic title. Have you read the one where the kids redesign the helmsrig and use that to garner support for Feferi as Empress? Lots of political drama, Sollux-centric, [spoiler], and in the end they win *but at what cost* (((If someone knows what fic I'm talking about please link me, I can't find it.))) rollerskatinglizard: No, I haven't theunvanquishedzims: It's good, if you like the nitty-gritty of rebellions. The piece I'm cherry picking is the new Empress introducing a new way of helming that allows more freedom. Instead of a single enslaved lowblood being hung up in tentacle wires until they drop dead, it's something you can unplug from, allowing psionics to swap out, take shifts, etc. So Empress Clearwater (yay seadweller name) is dead, long live Empress Clearwater, and she shakes things up by introducing her new helmsrig and orders it implemented Fleet-wide theunvanquishedzims: I don't think this universe is as bad as canon but it's still pretty rough on the bad ships, and the Sympatico is a very bad ship theunvanquishedzims: Angie is still a security officer, probably fairly high-ranking as a greenblood. Athena is a pro wrestler. Sports are probably a bigger part of life in a Fleet that doesn't center around conquest. The three probably grew up in the same neighborhood, maybe dabbled in quadrants before settling on hatefriends. Oooh, or ash, Athena setting them up to talk out their issues over lunch and then heckle each other over their other quadrants could fit in that quadrant. theunvanquishedzims: Rich is, of course, a helmsman. It's rare for someone that close to jade to be so powerful, he was actually planning on a career in tech, but when he got called in for psionic testing he basically crushed it. Possibly literally. And olive is still technically a lowblood, so off to the helm with you. theunvanquishedzims: His first posting is the Sympatico, and it's a nightmare. The one bright spot (dark spot? How do trolls even. *insert rant about Kanaya being pastel goth not goth-goth*) theunvanquishedzims: The one bright spot is Trimmer, a technician whose survival method is to lock himself in the helm dock and stab anybody who tries to mess with Rich when he's piloting. It's basically how things work in the superstorms, but 75-90% of the time instead of a few times a year theunvanquishedzims: Rich can barely talk most days, they communicate via chat client, and even that requires a lot of brainpower so they can't do it when the Sympatico has to fight something or do difficult maneuvers in space, which is pretty frequently. But Rich keeps an eye out for Trimmer, directing him through the ship to help him avoid people and fights, and tweaking things like hall lights when things get hairy. I think at least once he turned off the gravity, it cost him but it got Trimmer out of a really bad situation and gave him an excuse to hole up in the helmsdeck for a few days until things cooled off theunvanquishedzims: But all that is in the past! There's a new Empress, a new crew, and a new way of helming! theunvanquishedzims: The Sympatico is one of the flagships to roll out the new helmsrig. The original crew was disbanded, culled, reassigned. Trimmer was allowed to stay (at Rich's request) to ease the transition. It's a big day, lots of media attention documenting the new helmsmen, and Rich is doing his best to keep calm. He had to do some physical therapy to stand upright and be able to walk from the big speech to his shiny new helmsrig, but as a fairly young recruit he's not nearly as bad off as some older helmsmen whose bodies have atrophied. He's still pretty skinny though, especially when compared to Angie and Athena, who he reunited with (for the cameras) #helmsmenaretrollstoo, #greenc3<green, #omgishipit, see things are much better now, people can reclaim their lives and quadrants, helming is something to be excited for not scared of, etc. Lots of propaganda, lots of attention, lots of pressure to get this right theunvanquishedzims: And then he walks into the helm and Trimmer is there. Rich would probably have had a meltdown if he hadn't been, but no one can tell because they're so calm and professional. They're both cleaned up and impeccably uniformed, the plugging in goes smoothly, and the Sympatico comes to life and lifts off into the sky into a sunset that would make a Hollywood director weep. The cameras turn off, great job everybody, and things return to normal. Except Rich and Trimmer have no idea how to handle normal. For the first 8 hours it's fine, it's good, it's a little weird that Trimmer looks so tidy and that Rich is sitting in a padded chair instead of being flesh-jacked by tentacles, but it's fine. They chat over text, a little stilted but plenty to catch up on theunvanquishedzims: Rich spies on the new crew and gossips about how boring they are and how weird the ship looks with everything cleared out and well-lit, and wow where did that section of storage come from? Oh right that used to be a hidden smuggling nook. Haha nook. See they're fine, they're laughing at the same old jokes. DEFINITELY weird that Rich is physically laughing. And then their relief shift comes on, with the new 2nd shift helmsman, and it's time for Rich to get unplugged for the day and go. Go to his room, which he has now, or to eat, which he can do now, or any one of a million things that normal trolls do, because he's a normal troll now. (This is turning out a little different from in my head but I like it.) He makes it about two hallways, walking silently side-by-side with Trimmer, before he breaks down. Or rather Trimmer breaks down. Or maybe they both simultaneously break, there is a lot of breaking happening, and it's not great that it's happening in the hall where anybody could walk by and where the new helmsman is almost certainly seeing them and possibly reporting them, and Trimmer's flight instincts are to run back to the helm where it's safe but Rich isn't there, RICH was the reason it was safe and he's not at the helm, he's right there in the hall. Rich, I know not how, picks up Trimmer and gets them to him room. It' close by, thank goodness, and it has a lock on the door, how weird, and Trimmer is there. He missed Trimmer so so much. rollerskatinglizard: ;u; <3<3<3<3 theunvanquishedzims: [The following scene contains content too graphic for wigglers under the age of seven sweeps] rollerskatinglizard: *laughing* Hardcore conciliation!!! theunvanquishedzims: From Trimmer's POV: Merrill requested him to remain a tech on the Sympatico. Makes sense, he was the only one who treated the guy like an actual troll and not a drooling mass of computational power. They got caught up, it's weird how clean and quiet the ship is, no fights to report beyond a spat in the cafeteria that turned out to be pitch flirtation. His shirtcuffs itch and he wants to roll them up but it's day one of the new empire and he doesn't want to get culled for being untidy on the Empress's pet project ship. There's so many other things to get culled for, anyway. And then shift is over. (Weird, he's used to working 16-hour days and sleeping in the helmdeck half the time.) And he has to unplug Merrill (double weird, he's not used to touching Merrill unless it's for a physical repair. Very aware of Rich as a physical person, especially when he's standing up and not obscured in a mass of tentacles.) And then they leave, together, which is WEIRD, because for sweeps Trimmer has been sneaking out of the helmdeck to go on a food run with Merrill texting him directions, and there's no Merrill on screen providing guidance to avoid fights, but there's not gonna BE any fights, and everything is the same but different and looks weird and shiny and there's a giant troll right next to him, stalking him, why didn't Merrill warn him?! rollerskatinglizard: Oh NO, ahaha, oh these poor doofuses theunvanquishedzims: From Rich's POV: he's been seeing these hallways for sweeps, but not from this angle, the ship is so familiar but so foreign to him, and he can't hear her, can't feel her, and he keeps reaching out for her even after all that training he did to get used to the new tech, there's still an absence and some part of his brain that says not being linked to the ship means something has gone catastrophically wrong and everyone onboard is going to die, TRIMMER is going to die, Trimmer is freaking out and hyperventilating next to him, Trimmer's running out of oxygen and the ship isn't responding to him to tell him what's wrong with the oxygen, and then Trimmer goes to bolt back to the helm but that's full of strange trolls and a new helmsman, and that knowledge is enough to shake him back to the situation at hand. He doesn't know where he finds the strength or the presence of mind, but he manages to grab up Trimmer and get them back to safety. It's just that safety is now his berth, not the helm. They're alone in his berth. And Trimmer is still freaking out. Sh-shoosh? Shoosh. Shooooooosh. theunvanquishedzims: Everything is diamonds and snow and beautiful shining crystals (in the movies that will someday be made about this day.) In the moment there's a lot more hyperventilating and snot. Basically, culmination behind the entire fic: do they actually have feelings for each other, or was it just about mutual survival the whole time? rollerskatinglizard: INCREDIBLY ADORABLE AND INTIMATE COMFORT, *YESSSS* Thank you yes, I'll have a dozen God that's splendid theunvanquishedzims: And they're both freaking out, Rich is hungry and physically tired and needs to do a lot of stretches, Trimmer is not used to Rich being huge and mobile and right next to him, and they both have crazy big trust issues, but...yeah, they're pale. They're so pale for each other, and it was so hard during the transition not seeing each other and not knowing how the other felt, not knowing how THEY felt, if they really had feelings or if it was all a bad situation. And now they know. They have feelings. And because they're trolls and not humans, they can flop on a pile and talk about those feelings in a non-platonic way, and Rich can pet Trimmer's hair and tell him how pretty he is and how Rich is glad that Trimmer got it properly cut instead of just hacking it too short for someone to grab, and how much he worried in the hall about not being able to see farther than his own field of vision to keep Trimmer out of harm's way, and how this whole thing is so weird and Rich is so scared but he's just really, really happy that Trimmer took the posting on the Sympatico, because he pities Trimmer and he wants him around and he was so glad that Trimmer wanted to still be around him too theunvanquishedzims: The media always depicts piling as either the traditional fairytale highblood freakout, or an extremely mellow ASMR-ish chillout with lots of hairpetting and horn polishing. Not two midbloods looting a mostly-empty room for enough junk to make a large enough pile to sit on, shrieking at each other about their feelings and how weird this is and why didn't you SAY something, me?! why didn't YOU say something?! Three SWEEPS we've been dancing around this! Well I didn't know if you felt the same way or if you just needed me to survive! Etc etc etc. Lots of getting up and stomping around , pacing the floor while ranting, trying to scavenge more stuff to throw on the pile. Rich owns basically nothing and it's the first time he's not judging Trimmer for keeping his room a garbage heap, even empty pizza boxes would be better than trying to make a pile out of two sweaters and a toothbrush. rollerskatinglizard: XDDD TuT aaaaah, YES theunvanquishedzims: Rich definitely rips off a wall panel and pulls out some wires, Trimmer doesn't even question it, they've lived and breathed this ship long enough to know what every wire does and which are nonessential to ship functioning. And with the wall panel crunched up they can pile stuff around it to make it seem less sparse, and wow it doesn't even matter that he pulled a panel down, this is HIS wall in HIS room now, he can "redecorate" as he sees fit, cue more yelling about how he doesn't know what to do with himself or his newfound freedom. The whole thing is just yelling and cussing and grabbing and shaking. It probably looks black from the outside, but they are swimming in palest cream. theunvanquishedzims: Eventually they give up on the pile. They go through Rich's entire perigee of snack rations to avoid having to go to the cafeteria, halfheartedly make fun of Rich's chewing, then crawl into the recuperacoon together. Thank goodness there was such a big push to show off how great helmsmen's lives will be, Rich scored a blueblood-huge 'coon and he's still skinny enough that they can both fit in it together. They sleep together, in sopor like proper trolls with proper lives as opposed to surrounded by pink tentacles and misery. Tomorrow they'll have to venture out for food, and do Rich's stretches and physical therapy, and head to their shift like the galaxy hasn't flipped upside-down, but they're handle that together. rollerskatinglizard: Oh help, my heart!! TuT It's SO CUTE, AAAAAAAH theunvanquishedzims: Okay my computer has been trying to shut down for the last three paragraphs so I think it's time to log off for the night, but I hope you enjoy the AUs, I will tell you more tomorrow rollerskatinglizard: Thank you so much!! Have a good night! theunvanquishedzims: (In the original version Rich and Trimmer came face-to-face for the first time since the Sympatico was busted up and Rich pulled out for rehab, and basically had a giant pale meltdown right there against the wall. There was purring, and crying, and confessions, all caught on film. Athena and Angie definitely saw. It had to be censored out of the broadcast. Someone uploaded it to Troll Pornhub and it won a Troll Pornhub Emmy for Truth in Journalism, which was not a category the Troll Pornhub Emmys had before, so congrats Merrill and Trimmer) rollerskatinglizard: *dying* oh my GOD Rich would blush so hard he'd keel over
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theunvanquishedzims: I woke up to the idea of Rich as Fezzik and Trimmer as Inigo Montoya (book version.) rollerskatinglizard: Hah! Oh man, delightful theunvanquishedzims: Soft-hearted giant and stabby little friend rollerskatinglizard: Yesss theunvanquishedzims: Only problem is Trimmer's grudge seems to be against the entire world, not any particular murderer theunvanquishedzims: But they could definitely take on the Zoo of Death together rollerskatinglizard: It could be both, in the AU! Specific grudge and also he hates everyone theunvanquishedzims: Instead of not being left-handed he pulls his feet out of his boots and surprise! More hands to stab you with Makes the acrobatics on top of the cliff more exciting rollerskatinglizard: *dying* YES Perfect! theunvanquishedzims: I don't know who the Man in Black of most beautiful woman in the world would be, but Rich catching them jumping out a window to whisk them away on horseback is lovely rollerskatinglizard: *strokes chin thoughtfully* If Rich is Fezzik, I think Basil might as well be the beautiful love interest, and Mitch is his farm boy turned dashing rogue theunvanquishedzims: Mitch and Trimmer sword fighting rollerskatinglizard: YES theunvanquishedzims: Mitch going through hell and back to save his lady love, then Rich shows up with the horses and says "hello pretty lady" and Basil is just swooning over him rollerskatinglizard: Mitch is pretty chill with Rich by then, he can handle sharing Rich didn't try *hard* to kill him, after all theunvanquishedzims: He even made it a fair fight instead of ambushing him He put down the rock and Mitch put down the sword and they tried to kill each other like civilized people rollerskatinglizard: *laughing* Yes, exactly theunvanquishedzims: Rich even helped bring him back from being mostly dead rollerskatinglizard: They're practically best buddies now! theunvanquishedzims: Which I imagine is 1000x funnier because Trimmer hates this guy and doesn't want to help him but he has info Trimmer needs rollerskatinglizard: Rich just being reprovingly like Come on, buddy, he's cool really I KNOW you bonded over your sword fight with him Don't lie Trimmer: HE'S STILL A DIPSHIT theunvanquishedzims: Trimmer: It was a little fun to take the boots off I guess, I don't get to do that often rollerskatinglizard: Hahaha yes theunvanquishedzims: Downside of being the best swordsman in the world, nobody can touch you. UNTIL NOW. Trimmer: I killed the guy but now I have nothing to live for. Mitch: Have you considered piracy? Stabbing people all day and all the rope ladders you can climb rollerskatinglizard: *dying* theunvanquishedzims: Now Trimmer's life goal is to reclaim his title of Best Swordsman, which means fighting Mitch a lot rollerskatinglizard: Which they both enjoy Sometimes Trimmer wins, sometimes Mitch does rollerskatinglizard: Roach points out that Liam would be Miracle Max theunvanquishedzims: I was just about to type that! rollerskatinglizard: Heee! Good brain wave theunvanquishedzims: You need a cure for death? Nope, sorry. You need to it humiliate my mortal enemy? Coming right up! rollerskatinglizard: YUP theunvanquishedzims: Slipping Rich the holocaust cloak "because it fits so nice" rollerskatinglizard: Pfff yes theunvanquishedzims: Which is said with a million more winky faces than the movie rollerskatinglizard: XDDD Naturally Liam is a much higher-libido mad scientist-substitute theunvanquishedzims: He doesn't have a wife he has like six boyfriend minions hanging around in various states of undress. He got fired for banging the king when he was the royal miracle man, he did a good job but the prince found it icky. rollerskatinglizard: *dying* YES theunvanquishedzims: Basil as Buttercup tho. Basil: Mitch is a good friend. :) Just a great buddy. :)) Kind of smelly but a nice boy. :))) Someone: *might possibly find Mitch attractive* Basil: What? Why. No. Why would she. I mean yeah he's smart and muscular and tan and broad-shouldered and has perfect teeth and his sweat glistens in the sun as he does his chores shirtless, but c'mon, he's not THAT much hotter than her middle-aged husband. No way. rollerskatinglizard: *snickering* rollerskatinglizard: My cowriters very enjoy this AU concept, btw, thank you theunvanquishedzims: Excellent theunvanquishedzims: Trimmer: I told him I was there to kill him and he just...ran away? Mitch: Who does that? rollerskatinglizard: *snickering* theunvanquishedzims: Basil being a slobby peasant until two minutes after Mitch leaves, then realizing he has to take care of himself if he wants to keep Mitch's attention, and only then starting to regularly bathe and brush his hair and work on his figure. rollerskatinglizard: Snirk! Sounds about right, doofus nerd that he is theunvanquishedzims: Then he becomes a princess and has two servants per limb to keep him clean and shining, so when Mitch sneaks into the wedding announcement crowd his first view of Basil is 1. clean 2. shiny hair 3. dressed like a queen
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General book chit-chat, no specific AU
theunvanquishedzims: I saw the post about the Sympatico crew having a very different view of Rich than his friends and now I am consumed with the idea of Rich being seen as scary by anyone who knows him for more than a single minute. Like, he flinches at the sight of a uniform, he can't stand to be in a room with more than one other person in it, and he's so busy working he doesn't really have time to go around carving out a territory rollerskatinglizard: Right? You'd think it'd be tricky, but apparently no theunvanquishedzims: And now there's video of him covered in kittens, and doing cool board tricks, and pretending a little barbel is too heavy to lift, and also he might be in the news for taking down a murderous conspiracy at the Mall. rollerskatinglizard: *laughing* Indeed theunvanquishedzims: Where did big scary monster Merrill go, who is this marshmallow rollerskatinglizard: What scam is he trying to run?!? theunvanquishedzims: Oooh, I pity the fool who is assigned to a boat with Officer Merrill. Double flinch response rollerskatinglizard: RIGHT? *OH SHIT, THERE'S ANOTHER ONE* And she's ARMED theunvanquishedzims: Try to blow off some steam by watching some wrestling, A THIRD ONE rollerskatinglizard: Some poor dumbass who sneered at Trimmer once ends up hiding out on a penny boat bc there's MERRILLS EVERYWHERE, IT'S NOT SAFE OUT THERE theunvanquishedzims: *dying laughing* I imagine a non-terrible Sympatico crew member meeting reformed Rich is like those Very Special Episodes where the hero's high school bully or childhood bad influence friend comes to town, and they're so nice and friendly and apologetic about what happened back in the day rollerskatinglizard: We actually have an encounter something like that planned! theunvanquishedzims: The hero's friends are all charmed and the hero can't convince anyone that it's all an act, he's secretly still terrible, look I'll prove it *does something that makes the hero look bad and the reformed guy look like a victim* Yaaaaaaaaay!!! Outside perspective is the BEST rollerskatinglizard: Rich and this random dude, both acting like the other one is a total menace Meanwhile, anyone who's known either of them since is like ....No?? He's a fine guy, perfectly reasonable Merrill, stop growling theunvanquishedzims: Two Spider-Men pointing at each other rollerskatinglizard: Hah! Yes theunvanquishedzims: Also the fact that Rich has gotten BIGGER since leaving the Sympatico is probably a shock rollerskatinglizard: OH yeah theunvanquishedzims: Richard "Cranky Because He's Slowly Starving To Death" Merrill rollerskatinglizard: I mean, it's a shock to Rich When he hits another growth spurt So it's definitely a shock to anyone else theunvanquishedzims: Oh yeah, he was like 17 when he was first assigned there, nowhere near done growing yet Richard "My Shirts Rip When I Flex Wrong" Merrill rollerskatinglizard: *snickering* He'd look so sheepish and disgruntled if someone gave him that "I flexed and the sleeves fell off" shirt theunvanquishedzims: I am so glad Trimmer got to him before, like, a gang could figure out he's easily bribed with food. Things could have gone so much worse, corruption-wise rollerskatinglizard: YUP theunvanquishedzims: I just finished Athena and the Midnight Chicken and WOW Rich was actually kind of close to giving in to peer pressure there, if Athena hadn't thrown herself towards the proverbial sword he might have let himself be talked into something he really didn't want to do. rollerskatinglizard: It's possible! Baby Rich is very weak to peer pressure theunvanquishedzims: If they had been smart and manipulative and laid the groundwork first it would have been even easier, not just "here's a knife let your ingrained killing instincts do the work" rollerskatinglizard: Yeah! It could've gone much worse theunvanquishedzims: In the wrong hands Rich would make a very good, very sad soldier But like, deep down inside sad where no one could see it. rollerskatinglizard: That was actually close to his original story when I came up with him
[I’ll check with Skates to see if it’s okay to post that bit]
theunvanquishedzims: I'm already nervous about those two Horrible Old Men rollerskatinglizard: Which two? theunvanquishedzims: My face went D: at the idea that there's more than two rollerskatinglizard: *pats u gently* theunvanquishedzims: The werewolf guy with the boys on leashes is the one that makes my instincts scream KILL IT WITH FIRE, but there's also the one with the scar on his face? I wanna say Arthur Carroway rollerskatinglizard: >u> Gosh, Zims, idk WHY you'd be worried about him Just bc my tablet keyboard knows how to spell Carraway That's no reason to be concerned! rollerskatinglizard: Maybe Splick made him the [tarot] Devil bc he's devilishly handsome! Did you think of that?? theunvanquishedzims: I am terrified of him showing up, I know I'll be cringing too hard to keep reading right away. Men who abuse positions of power are so squicky, I couldn't even stand to watch the Office and Michael Scott is like, the most benign example of the trope But yeah a guy like that getting to Rich as a younger more mallable person, fresh-faced and eager to please. Ugh. Such a bad ending. rollerskatinglizard: YUP theunvanquishedzims: William Sandgren is the other one, I think rollerskatinglizard: Fortunately Rich did get rescued originally! I don't do sad endings theunvanquishedzims: He looks cool, I don't immediately want him dead for my own safety rollerskatinglizard: <u< theunvanquishedzims: ...I will ignore that face and continue to think of him as the lesser of two evils for now rollerskatinglizard: Absolutely feel free! ^u^ theunvanquishedzims: When I thought about this earlier I imagined Liam actually being the one to start a pissing contest with Arthur. Rich guy vs criminal guy, my grandmother bedazzled the skulls of her enemies, your teeth would make a lovely necklace, etc etc "Well I'd love to get them around your throat" ;) rollerskatinglizard: You know Liam QUITE well theunvanquishedzims: I'm a visual learner, so all the illustrations are helping me flesh out characteristics. Liam smiling like a psycho while his face drips blood is very telling. rollerskatinglizard: Hah!!! Right? God, he's SUCH a little firebrand theunvanquishedzims: (Also, AU where Liam is the babydoll heir and Rich is the soldier mod bodyguard he climbs like a tree) rollerskatinglizard: We have definitely discussed that AU thoughtfully >u> It's good, v tasty theunvanquishedzims: Rich is all THIS GOES AGAINST THE RULES and Liam is all oh you like being told what to do hmm? >:3~ rollerskatinglizard: Rich: God this is SUCH a bad idea, I'm gonna get so fired Liam: Not if you're good enough at it! theunvanquishedzims: I imagine without a pregnancy they'd be able to keep it under wraps slightly longer than grandma Beaker rollerskatinglizard: True! theunvanquishedzims: "Under wraps" like everyone in the house can't hear them rollerskatinglizard: Pffff YUP theunvanquishedzims: Ugh now I'm remembering Trimmer being scared of Rich getting drunk and pushy and I'm sad again rollerskatinglizard: No one likes Rich's drinking except Rich rollerskatinglizard: It's okay tho, Trimmer trusts Rich more after that theunvanquishedzims:I think he'll figure it out given enough time. Rich: Well everyone drinks because work sucks. Basil and Mitch: Nope! Rich: Well I'm a soldier mod so it just LOOKS like I'm drinking a lot. Angie and Thena: Nope! Rich: Well I have trauma from the Sympatico so I need alcohol to deal with that. Trimmer: Nope! Rich: ...well I guess I have a problem then. :< Everyone: Yep! rollerskatinglizard: Indeed theunvanquishedzims: I am so curious about their origins, how the relationship developed, how apparently they had half a handjob between them and went NOPE NEVER AGAIN, how they wound up co-sleeping, if they ever cried on one another, etc etc rollerskatinglizard: I'm 100% certain that Rich cried on Trimmer at least once, while Trimmer awkwardly patted his hair and gently called him a wuss or something If Trimmer ever cried it would've been in the middle of the night, and none of them would ever mention it in the light of day theunvanquishedzims: Was that Trimmer's first posting? I know it was Rich's, so he kiiiind of didn't know any better, but Trimmer is older by a bit rollerskatinglizard: It definitely wasn't Trimmer's first, no, the latest in a long string of postings that went from okay to bad to worse theunvanquishedzims: Oh nooooooo No wonder he finally said screw it and got a solo boat rollerskatinglizard: Yep
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okay u listened to fatal love which is my favorite album BUUUT now you gotta listen to follow - find you (my second favorite album though i have a lot of trauma associated w it, as most monbebes do.... i'll tell u abt it later)
ALSO we love and support wonho and his girlboss solo career, so please listen to love synonym #2: right for us!!!
its been like over 20 hours since u sent this ask and u are already regretting getting me into my monbebe arc. suffer <3
anyway heres my opinions. pretty sure theres an mv for follow as well? or another song? didnt watch it tho rip.
find you - watching the mv alongisde and WHATS UP WITH THEM AND CAR CRASHES WBHBHWBW :((( im not going to lie i almost started crying bc um, *bites lip* dealing with topics of loved ones dying when a loved one of urs died is not sexy (all /lh bc im good HAHA). love the group mocing in with the main guy, polycule truther over here <3 AND THE TIME TRAVELLING STUFF? ??? YOU WERENT KIDDING WHEN U SAID THEY ARE INTERCONNECTED. god now i wanna get into timelines and shit. anyway, i do absolutely love the vibes of this song and im not rating them bc i cant decide for ratings, my ass is fat what can i say
follow - LOVE this song so fuckin much. im a sucker for it, oh my god. even the rapping part.... sir yes. so far my favourite one. JOOHONEY MY BELOVED!!! DEAR GOD. BIAS? MAYHAPS. WELL SEE
monsta truck - i cant believe one of the trucks is hung. anyway, vibes are immaculate. such a good song, advocating for pegging rights. i truly love diversity. love wins <3
(yes ik its supposed to be them being ridden, but? “fill me, fuel me up” shownu pegging king? checkmate atheists, i win)
U R - i absolutely love the song but GOD. SOME OF THE LINES IN ENGLISH. PLS WHAT IS “stop shakin my tree, i just want this so deep” KING WHAT??? DONT DO THAT “come to me the way” pls i cant do this. but all in all this is a good song..... will admit id rather listen to gasoline than this one :thonk:
Disaster - joohoney i- please. please. i love you. changkyun please my other beloved. please. i am vibing HARD with this one. yes bitch i AM a disaster, but on in the fact that im a goddamn mess. really love the end part of it
Burn it up - YESSSSS THE FUCKIN SONGS SLAPS, YES THE BELLS YESSSS, YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS ELMOOO THIS SONG IS SO GOOOOOOOD IM IN LOVE WITH IT YES ARSON LETS GOOOOOOOO
really good i liked it a lot :) one of my favs for this album
i cant finish mirror and see you again tonight, nor that wonho song, bc my attention is not getting taken away too much so im checking them out tomorrow but i do actually really love this album so far. i love the vibes from the very soft, rather tragic, beginning to.... horny. they really said “lets get hrony instead of sad” and i RESPECT IT. i dont respect changkyun though what the fuck is “stop shaking my tree i just want this so deep” king just say you want to get pegged
also pls tell me what that trauma entails. im terrified to find out
#asks //#monstacest#caps lock#PLS IM ENJOYING THIS SO FAR SRRSLY. im loving them#AND I NOTICED U ANSWERED MY ASK AS WELL. OH BOY#exited to read the block of text abt the bois
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Space Sweepers and the History of Working Class People In Space
https://ift.tt/eA8V8J
This week saw the release of Space Sweepers, Korea’s first big budget special effects space movie extravaganza. There are a lot of interesting things to say about this movie, but one of the things that makes it stand out is it’s an excellent portrayal of people in space who are skint.
See, I hate to break it to you, but you’re probably never going into space. Unless you’re a highly trained technical specialist (well done!) or a billionaire (pay your taxes!), your best shot at seeing Earth from space within your lifetime is the development of realistic-yet-cheap VR headsets.
And the thing is, a lot of the time this holds up in sci-fi as well. Space travellers are either living in a post-scarcity utopia, are part of the military, or are some kind of genius scientists.
Even where we see supposedly salt-of-the-Earth relatable types, like Han Solo or Mal Reynolds, their scruffy outfits and roguish ways can’t quite cover for the fact that they own and live in the equivalent of a massive luxury yacht or private plane. Serenity may look like a rust bucket, but it’s far from the equivalent of a white van, and while Mal is constantly complaining about the costs of fuel and repairs, that doesn’t change the fact that he seems to own the ship outright, and in “Oxygen” he appears ready to buy the ship for cash.
As for Han Solo, leaving for a moment his humble origins and that he won the ship in a card game, within the Galaxy Far Far Away the ratio of space travellers to non-space travellers doesn’t seem that different from the one on Earth. Yes, there are lots of smugglers and Tie-fighter pilots and interplanetary bounty hunters, but for every one of them there are millions of Tusken sand raiders, Jawa scrap merchants, moisture farmers and Corellian street rats. Spacecraft might come and go from the spires of Coruscant as regularly as buses, but the population density is such that most people on that planet will be lucky to see sunlight, let alone the stars.
Meanwhile, back in the real world, the chances of an ordinary person getting into space even in the foreseeable future vary between Willy Wonka Golden ticket level lucky, or truly dystopian. On the one hand, Elon Musk has announced the first all-civilian mission to space, led by billionaire Jared Isaacman (so, not what you’d call an everyman), two seats given to people who have won a place by donating to St Jude’s Hospital (it probably won’t be one of the smaller donors), and finally, one lucky front-line health worker.
But Elon Musk wants to colonise Mars, and sadly billionaires still need people to clean the toilets, so Musk has other ideas for how ordinary people might get into space. Unfortunately that idea is indentured slavery, demonstrating that the most prescient science fiction writers of our generation are the writers of first-person shooters.
This is why, outside of post-scarcity-fully-automated-luxury-space-communism, and the military, science fiction is always oddly quiet about money. With a few honourable exceptions.
We Just Work Here
The first and most obvious reason why any ordinary working-class person would end up in space is “they’re paid to”.
Pretty much the codifier of working-class people in space is Alien. The crew of Nostromo aren’t scientists, they’ve not got The Right Stuff. Nobody on that ship is getting a high school named after them. The crew of the Nostromo are basically truck drivers who venture off the highway and run into something nasty. Yes, ironically they show a great deal more competence, professionalism and intelligence in encountering an alien threat than the actual scientists in the prequel movie, but the first conversation these characters have when they come out of hyper sleep is about money. From the outset, these are people in a place of work.
It’s a model that set the format for gritty-industrial-working-class-people in space movies going forward for better or worse. Event Horizon just lifts Alien’s aesthetic completely for the rescue ship Lewis & Clark, as does the videogame series Dead Space, like Alien, set aboard a mining ship.
Away from the horror genre, Outland sees Sean Connery play sheriff in a final frontier mining town that could have taken place in the same world as Alien.
And of course, Red Dwarf, which not only made good use of the Alien aesthetic, but also cast the colony commander from Aliens as their Captain, to tell the story of chicken soup repairmen in space.
Across all of these stories, and of course the aforementioned videogames, the life of the blue collar space traveller is an unpleasant one, exploited by a company that not only controls your life while you work, but also owns all of your food, water and air. Indeed, it’s not rare for them to go further. In Moon, another film where the spacemen-to-earthmen ratio seems not far what it is now, Sam Bell’s employer decides to save the cost of training employees and ferrying them back and forth from Earth to the Moon by taking one employee and filling a cellar full of his pre-programmed, short-lived disposable clones.
Space Sweepers
Public Transport
But maybe you don’t want to work for “the Man”, not an unwise call given the Man is probably trying to feed you to something horrible in the hope of creating a new bioweapon. One surprisingly under-utilised method of getting into space is public transport.
In The Fifth Element, Bruce Willis plays a special-forces-operative-turned-cab-driver who, as part of his cover, wins a ticket to go on a space cruise. Although looking at the sets and the extras in this movie, as well as the packed-in-as-tightly-as-we-can apartments back on Earth, one gets the impression this is not an option open to the majority of working joes.
Perhaps the best example of this is in the shockingly under-loved 2018 flick, Prospect, featuring future Mandalorian Pedro Pascal.
In Prospect, the spaceship is little more than a rotating framework filled with cargo containers in front of a massive engine. The father and daughter prospecting team are on board a lander that resembles nothing so much as an old Apollo Lunar Lander on the inside, and as the mothership approaches their destination the ship doesn’t even stop, it just releases the lander, tells them when the ship is going to be passing back that way and warns them the line is being terminated, so there won’t be another ship passing that way.
This is a model it would be fantastic to see more of. The landing module is small enough that it’s entirely plausible that even these not-very-well-off characters could buy, hire or rent one. Rather than having the freedom of the space ways like Mal or Han, their travel options are entirely restricted by what destinations are profitable for large shipping companies and whether they’ll let you tag along. And while on the surface the aesthetic looks a bit Alien, in truth it feels far more like it’s cobbled together from relics of the actual space age.
Borrow Your Way Into Space
And finally, of course, there’s the Elon Musk solution. Borrow your way into space. One of the early places to use this idea was Gateway, by Frederik Pohl. Frederik Pohl in particular is fantastic at writing science fiction worlds where people actually have to worry about money. In Gateway and its sequels humanity has discovered Ancient Aliens left a space station nearby, stocked with a lot of spaceships. Being alien technology, humans can’t control the ships accurately, they’re limited pretty much to pressing the “Stop” and “Go” buttons, and when the ship flies off it might land on a world of fabulous riches, or it might chuck you into the heart of a star.
Prospectors who want to try their luck in these ships have to take out a loan to get to the station, and throughout the novel the protagonist is constantly aware of how many credits are in his account.
Which brings us back around to Space Sweepers. At first glance the Space Sweepers set-up might seem similar to that of the Millennium Falcon or Serenity – an extremely “used” looking ship run by a rag-tag bunch of misfits. But the first time we see the protagonist, Tae-ho, he’s in a pawn shop. As soon as he gets back to the ship we learn the crew are still paying off the cost of the ship, as well as the costs of repairs and parts.
We see an awful lot of “Space sweepers” throughout the film, junk collectors gathering up salvage from Earth’s orbiting collection of derelict spacecraft and defunct satellites. But these people don’t seem like roguish space pirates, the impression they give is more akin to app-based gig workers.
This is compounded by another issue – that to work in space you need a visa, with citizenship limited to the wealthy few who are able to afford a place on the deluxe orbiting space habitats.
Everything in Space Sweepers is driven by money, whether it’s Tao-Ho’s attempts to raise enough money to find his daughter, the robot, Bubs, and her attempt to get a humanoid body that reflects her gender, and of course, the $2 million reward for “Dorothy” which drives the whole plot.
cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });
Often space-based sci-fi is about the fantasy of freedom, of exploration. Even shows like Star Trek give us characters whose job isn’t much more than to fly around having adventures. But there is rich storytelling to be done about the people who have to clean the space toilets.
Chris Farnell’s novella series, Fermi’s Progress, is about a ship whose FTL drive vaporises planets, and features at least one space traveller who isn’t a scientist, super soldier or billionaire (although to be fair the other three characters are exactly that). You can find part one here.
The post Space Sweepers and the History of Working Class People In Space appeared first on Den of Geek.
from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/375jTzb
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R E B I R T H A N D R E C O L L E C T I O N — [ co-created with @incorrectprodigalsonquotes ] A Brightwell AU
I've got sunshine on a cloudy day When it's cold outside I've got the month of May Well I guess you'd say What can make me feel this way? My girl (my girl, my girl) Talkin' 'bout my girl (my girl)
sofia wylie as young dani powell | levi miller as young malcolm bright
This AU came about when thinking of how small things cause big changes as a result of reading too many Chinese rebirth webnovels. The idea of the rebirth is for a character to live their life for a second time; a little bit like time travel except that the character is reverted back to the age they were at the time. We both liked the idea of Malcolm and Dani growing up together because they definitely would have been friends given the chance. This was also a way to be able to change some things we didn’t like the show did, including not giving Dani enough screen time. It’s very interesting to think about what could’ve changed about the whole story if Dani had grown up with Malcolm. It’s also a chance to give our favourite detective (sorry JT) some much needed backstory. This is a chance to make this not just Malcolm’s story but both Malcolm and Dani’s story.
After being fatally shot during a case, Dani is sent back in time to when she’s five years old and ends up becoming Malcolm’s childhood friend.
Dani didn't even really intend to reach out to Malcolm so early, she had been more interested in connecting with Gil in addition to making sure her father and aunt, Dinah Senior didn’t die early this time around
The first time that Dani met Malcolm after being reborn, there was a public performance for her ballet class in the park that day and it was also Dani's first solo performance
So Malcolm ends up seeing this tiny girl with her curls flying while she dances to “My Girl”
She was wondering how to approach him because he's just so young, but he's not much different than the Bright she got to know as an adult
His eyes are still the same in any lifetime
Malcolm wanted to approach Dani too because he thought her dancing was great and they ended up meeting in the middle
It’s also the day Malcolm tries ice cream truck ice cream for the first time
Dani thinks the way that Malcolm's eyes go wide at his first taste is cute
She tells him that the twist is the best flavour because you get both chocolate and vanilla
She gets hers dipped in chocolate and Malcolm ends up ordering the same thing because he's curious about it
He ends up loving it. He's never had so much sugar in his life and he loves it
Ainsley is attached to Dani from the start and she's clinging to Dani and going “no” when the nanny tries to separate them
And they end up talking for so long that the nanny tells him they have to go in order to be home in time for lunch
And Ainsley is not even close letting go
Malcolm tries to convince her to let go for all of two seconds. "Ains, come on, you have to say bye to Dani." "No!" He just looks at the nanny with a look that says, ‘well, I tried’
Dani just finds the whole thing funny and she even encourages it by hugging Ainsley tighter
Dani's mom, Zipporah is giggling in the background
And that's when Malcolm decides to ask Dani if she wants to have lunch with them. "We have a pretty good cook, plus Ainsley likes you."
Which is good because Ainsley was glaring at everyone for daring to take her away from Dani
Ainsley gasps when she hears Malcolm invite Dani and turns the puppy dog eyes on Dani and the nanny and clings to Dani even more
Zipporah finds it hilarious because Dani is maybe a foot taller than Ainsley but the toddler is clinging to Dani like a baby koala
Ainsley is practically on Dani's hip. Dani doesn't really mind, but she looks at her mom to see if she can go. Dani knows that it's gonna be a disaster, but she kind of wants to talk to Malcolm more
He’s still weird, but she likes him
When Jessica allowed the nanny to take Malcolm and Ainsley out to the park, she didn't expect them to come home with a ballerina
"Malcolm, who's your little friend? And why is Ainsley clinging to her like a limpet?"
She did think that Dani was precious and was amused at how Dani already seemed so used to Malcolm and Ainsley's antics
Jessica immediately saw that she was a very calm and mature little girl
And Malcolm knows that look in her eyes means that she wants to keep Dani with them too. "She has a mom already, you can't keep her." "Malcolm dear, there are plenty of other ways to keep her around."
Malcolm was pretty attached to Dani despite the age difference. He could tell that she's supposed to be younger than him because of her round cheeks and small hands
It's her eyes that make him think otherwise
Dani called him ‘Bright’ since they were kids because that was she was used to calling him before the rebirth happened and she called him sunshine boy and says that's when he's ‘Bright’
Dani and Malcolm's family end up catching Watkins much earlier
He still kidnaps Malcolm, but here's a twist, he didn't just threaten Jessica and Ainsley, he also threatened Dani's safety. So Dani knows that the camping trip is coming up, but she knows she can't stop it from happening without Martin getting suspicious
So she prepares. She talks to Ainsley about her "imaginary friend" and slips Malcolm a walkie talkie so they can at least stay in contact
She's ready to arm him to the teeth to help get him out of there relatively unscathed. She gets him a collapsible baton that he can easily hide on him.
She plays it off as just some things her dad always has ready for a camping trip (even though they have never been camping)
It's what he uses to knock out Watkins in the end
And she makes him promise that the next weekend, they go to see Tarzan in theatres so that she can kind of reassure herself that he'll come back and she knows that in a couple months, Malcolm will find out about his father and call the police
And then Malcolm accidentally starts talking about Dani to Martin and Watkins because he's saying things like "Me and Dani usually like to go to the movies on Saturdays. She showed me this cool trick of when you buy popcorn and candy and mix it in the popcorn bag so every bite is a surprise. Dani likes the sour lemon lime gummies and M&Ms so we usually get those."
He doesn't realize that talking about Dani is making Martin and Watkins curious about her, he's just a kid talking about his friend
And when Watkins kidnaps Malcolm, he taunts him with; "Once I'm done with your mother and sister, I'm going after your little girlfriend.” And Malcolm just flies into a blind rage, shouting things like getting Watkins arrested if he so much as looks at Dani wrong and, "If you even get close to her, I won’t think twice about calling the police!"
He didn't even want Watkins to know what Dani looked like
Unfortunately, Martin told him in very good detail what she looked like. "Oh, she's this pretty young girl that Malcolm's quite taken with." And when Watkins starts describing Dani in perfect detail, almost as if he's been watching her for some time and Malcolm has never been more terrified
In reality it was Martin, who's amused by Dani most of the time
So Watkins gets caught after the camping trip. He kidnaps Malcolm because Martin didn't go through with killing him and takes Malcolm to the little room under the Whitlys' house
Malcolm escapes similar to how he escapes in the original timeline
Only thanks to Dani preparing in advance that he doesn't need to break his hand this time
Dani gave him a lock pick set disguised as a Swiss Army knife
Malcolm managed to hide it up his sleeve before Watkins kidnapped him
Dani was relieved to hear that Watkins hadn't been able to hurt him because he managed to escape
He managed to find Ainsley and Dani in the living room and told them to find Jessica
Dani managed to call Gil right before Watkins cut the power
Watkins had an axe with him and was aiming for Dani. Cue young Malcolm flying into a rage and knocking him out. Dani and Malcolm shove Watkins in the box together
Gil shows up and is like, "Should I ask how he got in the box?" Dani and Malcolm look at each other and eventually go, "He's not as heavy as he looks"
Gil doesn't say anything because he can tell that Watkins tried to hurt them, particularly Malcolm
Both of them are a little bruised, but they both have fighting spirit
Gil reminds Jessica to get them checked out in the meantime, giving poor Zipporah another heart attack
Poor Ainsley was clinging to Dani and Malcolm the whole time. She doesn't understand why police were showing up at their house or why Dani and Malcolm got hurt
And Jessica fusses over Dani and Malcolm. She even allowed the kids to have breakfast in bed
She has the chef make all their favourites like Dani's cinnamon and brown sugar waffles with strawberries and maple syrup. Malcolm let her convince him to eat some of her strawberries. And then Ainsley wants to be fed strawberries and it leads to the siblings fighting for Dani's attention
It was one of many instances where Malcolm and Ainsley were competing for Dani's attention
Dani forgets that she's been reborn for a little while and just enjoys her friendship with Malcolm until she meets Martin
She makes sure she's never in a room alone with him
Instead she invites Malcolm and eventually Ainsley over for sleepovers
She always hugs Malcolm's arm if Martin enters the room, even if he's just picking something up
Martin can tell that Dani is more than meets the eye, but he still underestimates her
She does impress him by keeping up with Malcolm and sussing out details and she's not happy about it because she doesn't want him to like her
Malcolm is a little amused at Dani treating Martin as if he's her nemesis
He's horrified when he learns the truth and immediately tries protecting her from Martin
He thinks that she'll stop being his friend now like his other friends did
Dani is creeped out by Martin because not only is she meeting pre-arrest sweater vest Martin but he's much taller than her
It's the eyes that creep her out, especially since he reminds her of a sociopathic Mr Rogers with the sweaters, but it's Dani's steady and knowing gaze that starts to unnerve Martin
She wasn't there the night The Surgeon was arrested, but she was there early the next morning. She had her grandma drive her to his house and Dani ends up being the first thing Malcolm sees when he wakes up
She ends up waking him from a night terror much like in the pilot
Jessica was horrified and didn't notice how calm Dani was about it
She was about to pull Malcolm off, but then he wraps his arms around Dani and starts calming down after she sings to him. And Malcolm just slowly wakes up, not realizing what just happened, though he does question why they're in the hallway
He's bewildered over why he's in Dani's arms. Then he sees a scrape on her cheek and reacts in horror
That's the incident that prompt him to seek help earlier than in the original timeline and it's the first time he cries since the arrest
He does go nonverbal for a shorter period of time, but he's more eager to communicate
They both learn sign language so that they can understand each other
If Malcolm doesn't want to talk, that's fine but she's not going to lose her friend and he writes constantly so he's communicating just fine, he's just choosing not to talk at the moment
Jessica thinks this is better than Malcolm shutting everyone out
She also appreciates Dani for sticking with her son when she had no obligation too
After a month, after Dani sleeps over for the tenth time, Malcolm finally talks
It's only one word, "Dani", but it still almost makes Jessica cry
And Malcolm laughs when Dani all but tackles him with a hug
It releases the floodgates and he keeps repeating her name as he buries his face in her hair
Later, Jessica squeezes Dani tight. She keeps stroking her hair and thinking that it's a miracle that Malcolm brought Dani home that day
She makes it clear that while she hopes it will never happen but if Dani ever needed her, she would protect her the way she'd protect her own children
Jessica is even more fond of Dani in the new timeline. She thinks she's adorable and that her friendship with Malcolm is precious. She's always gushing about Dani's maturity and intelligence
Malcolm isn't jealous. It's the first time he and his mother really agree on something
Malcolm and Dani had matching Halloween costumes when they were growing up together
Throughout Dani's childhood, she had dreams where she and Malcolm have odd conversations while dressed as characters from children's books
One dream had her dressed as Alice and trying to get a straight answer out of Mad Hatter!Malcolm. MH!Malcolm tells her that the answer she’s looking for will appear after she finishes her Earl Grey and when she drains her cup, she finds two words painted at the bottom
She can’t remember when the words were, but it shocks her to the point where she doesn’t even realize that Malcolm has practically flipped the overly long table that was between them and he slowly and deliberately walks up to her. She wakes up just as he’s grasped her chin in his hand and tips her face up to look at him
Gil and Jessica have a long standing bet on when Dani and Malcolm will finally get together
Malcolm talked to Dani when he came home to visit from college and told her that he was thinking of applying to Quantico because by the time he told Martin, he had already applied. And he asks what she thinks of it
He shares his fears about being told that he's his father's son and she tells him that Malcolm Whitly is his own person
She gives the idea of changing his last name and he chooses Bright because she calls him that all the time. She said that he was old enough to change his name without anyone's approval
He didn't call himself Bright for her approval but he did it because Dani's the only person he has in his life where he doesn't have to pretend that he's someone he's not
Jessica is a little miffed at the name change at first. She suggested that he take her maiden name, but then Malcolm talks to her about his discussion with Dani and she now thinks it's sweet
Malcolm is the first to realize his feelings for Dani. She comes by to congratulate him and they talk until late at night. Dani ends up falling asleep on his shoulder and Malcolm stares at her as if she'll disappear if he looks away for a second. Dani has him promise not to drop off the face of the earth before she ends up falling asleep and he kisses the top of her head
During his first year in college, he comes back for Christmas with his Walking Dead look.
Dani and Jessica are a little horrified, but Malcolm just wants his hug and he playfully chases Dani
They're both laughing and they nearly fall over when Malcolm has her in a bear hug
Dani's dad, Christophe died when she was sixteen in the original timeline, but he lives in the new one
Christophe and Dani's sister Naomie were riding home from her swimming lessons one afternoon when a truck ran a red light and hit them in the side. Naomie survived, but she was traumatized to the point when she had night terrors for months afterwards
Dani and her oldest sister Mona took turns sleeping with her to take care of her whenever she had one
This time, Dani was with them and helped them avoid the accident in the nick of time, but she didn't come out of it unscathed
Dani got a bad concussion and was unconscious for two days. That was the first time she caught glimpses of the original timeline
Malcolm came running after Jessica called him in hysterics, especially since he had literally been away for a few weeks because his second semester of college had started
He was a mess when he arrived and he practically collapsed in Christophe's arms
He was half-demanding to see Dani and Christophe let it slide because he knew that the demands were coming from grief and worry
Christophe still had to tell Malcolm to calm down and rubbed his back until Malcolm was somewhat calm before he went in and all the while he was sobbing that he can't lose Dani and it was heartbreaking for Christophe to see
That's when he knew (though he always suspected) that Malcolm loved Dani
Jessica, Christophe, and Gil had to force him to eat and for him to go home for an hour to get cleaned up. Jessica makes a comment about Dani would be complaining about his stench and that earns a watery chuckle
He keeps talking to Dani hoping that she's listening. He gets hopeful when he's talking and he feels her squeeze his hand the tiniest bit. "Are you just trying to get me to shut up?"
And even while unconscious, Dani still has a sense of humour because she squeezes his hand again
Malcolm falls asleep in the chair next to her and Christophe is on guard because he knows Malcolm has night terrors too
He's still surprised when Malcolm actually sleeps through the night
He chalks it up to it being the effect that Dani has on him
Dani wakes up eventually and is surprised to see him
Her voice is still croaky from disuse, but she manages to rasp out "Malcolm"
Malcolm almost lunge-hugs her and he presses his forehead against hers and cries tears of relief. "Sorry," He wipes away a tear that fell on her cheek. "You're awake for one second and I get salt water all over you."
She just smiles at him. She looks tired and worn and she's covered in bandages, but he can still feel her breathing under his fingertips
And he always liked her eyes, but he's never been so grateful to see them open. He swears there's no more beautiful sight than in that moment
At one point, Dani falls into a coma and she sees glimpses of the original timeline where she died. She bleeds out in his arms while he's yelling for an ambulance and begging her to stay awake
In the aftermath of everything, Malcolm takes to talking to Dani whenever he's particularly stressed or sad. He talks about her family and Gil and Jessica getting together and how much everyone misses her. And how he wishes he had been selfish about his feelings for her and admitted it when she was still alive
“I’m still mad at you,” he says one day, “for dying. You didn’t have to, you know. If you weren't always looking out for my selfish ass--maybe you'd still be here. You weren't supposed to leave us. You weren't supposed to leave me… I would’ve switched places with you in a heartbeat..."
In the new timeline, Malcolm does think that Dani has some sort of secret with how she came into his life
He looks at her for a second and thinks that her eyes are still the same as they were twenty years ago and he thinks that with all the coincidences and how knowing Dani has been in the last twenty years and realizes there's something going on. But it's not dark like Dr. Whitly's secrets. It's warm, bright, and gives him hope. He's okay with not knowing
Because Dani is not Martin and her eyes are still the same as ever. It's those eyes that make him think that instead of growing up, Dani just grew into who she was all along
#Prodigal Son#Rebirth and Recollection#Dani Powell#Malcolm Bright#Brightwell#ship it#not exactly my best work#my graphics
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La La(chimolala) Land Chapter Four: To the Hills
jimin x reader genre: fluff, fluff, and more fluff word count: 2.5k warnings: none
[Inspired by La La Land]
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You wait on the sidewalk outside your apartment building, gazing up at the palm fronds directly towering over you and the electric blue sky beyond. Late spring in LA is usually nice, after the rainy season has finished—but this year's weather is phenomenal. If you weren't waiting on the car to come pick you up, you'd have headed for the hills hours ago. For a moment, you consider ditching. A picnic up the canyon sounds nice. After all, you do love your alone time.
But you've been anticipating this moment all weekend. So when the limo pulls up, you climb inside.
Is a limo really necessary? I'm just one person. But it doesn't seem like this Jimin guy does things halfway.
The driver takes the 405 up into the Valley, and ventures out onto Mulholland Drive. As you climb higher towards the cloudless sky, you take in the view below. It's a clear day; you can see for miles. You think back to your first meeting with Jimin. You have to look up, he'd said.
Now, you wonder why you were ever looking down.
You reach San Vincente Mountain Park, a picturesque spot perched atop a peak in the Santa Monica Mountains. The dirt road ahead has been blocked off, but a team of men arrive almost instantly to remove the barriers for you. Trailers, cameras, and lighting equipment are spread across the dusty mountain landscape. The driver opens the door for you—nice touch—and you step out of the limo.
"JIMIN-SSHI, SHE'S HERE!" You hear a voice yell.
The door to a trailer across the way bursts open with a dramatic flourish, and Jimin appears in the frame. His blonde hair is freshly washed and blow-dried, his makeup impeccably applied. He's dressed in a crisp, baby-blue suit that compliments the afternoon sky in a way that had to have been planned. The top few buttons of his white dress shirt are undone, and as he eagerly approaches you, you notice a tiny mole resting on his collarbone.
"Y/N! You're here! I'm glad you made it before we start filming—I can show you around a bit. Was the ride comfortable? I wanted a white limo but the service said they only had black available. Did you find the strawberries I put for you in the cooler? I was worried you wouldn't open it and find them there, so I wanted to put a sign, like a sticky note that said 'Hey, Y/N! Open here for strawberries!'—but Tae said that would be tacky, and I think he's right. Oh, and I hope you like strawberries. I hope you're not allergic. In The Parent Trap, Lindsey Lohan's allergic to strawberries. That's how I know it's a real possibility. You can learn so much from movies. Have you seen—"
"Jimin-ah, breathe." One of Jimin's bandmates appears behind him, slapping his back and stopping his monologue. "I'm sorry, Y/N. He gets chatty when he's nervous." He winks. "I'm Taehyung, but you can call me Tae."
"It's nice to meet you, Tae."
"That's Jungkook over there, downing donuts at craft service. He's the one who shouted when your limo pulled up."
"I am perfectly able to introduce her to Jungkook myself, hyung," Jimin defends.
"Yes," Tae responds, "but can you do it in less than eight thousand words?"
Jimin stares daggers at his bandmate, but quickly turns his attention back to you. "Come with me," he says, grabbing your arm to lead you. He lets go just seconds later, and looks as if he'd just reminded himself of something important. "You look great, by the way."
And he's right. You still feel terribly outclassed by him in the fashion department, but you spent a lot more time on your ensemble this time. It's warm out, so you paired a collared, pinstriped dress made of light cotton with a pair of wedge sandals. Walking along the dirt road makes you regret wearing open-toed shoes, but you can't help but notice that the blue of your dress exactly matches the blue of his suit. And with the vibrant California sky as a backdrop, you're both a picture in azure.
You make the traditional amount of small talk—how's your day, how was your weekend—as he leads you down a path and up some stairs to a viewing platform. From here, you can see both the Valley and LA: slopes and canyons, palm trees and sage brush, dirt roads and highways. You can certainly see more from up here than you could on top of City Hall.
You lean against the railing, and Jimin lags behind a bit before joining you. He doesn't seem too enthralled by the view beyond his immediate location.
"We always seem to find ourselves high up, huh?" You smile at him.
"We sure do," a grin tugs at his lips before he licks them nervously. "You're not . . . scared by being up here, are you? We can go back down."
"No, I'm fine." You assure him. "It's . . . beautiful up here."
"It is," he agrees—but he still isn't looking out towards the city. A gust of wind travels through his hair and shirt, reminding you again of the time you met. You feel the urge to grab his collar again—but why? You're not frightened.
In fact, you feel enchanted.
"So, what can I expect today?" You ask him.
"Oh, right," he says, remembering the reason you're here. "Well, we're filming a music video for our new album. The song's about flying high through life—above the chaos and noise of all the distractions—so we figured a mountain peak would be a good fit. Or, rather, the directors did. I don't get to make these decisions."
"Wait . . . is that why you were at City Hall? To shoot at a place high in the air?"
He nods. "As the video progresses, we travel higher and higher up."
"That's . . . way cool."
"As always, you have such a way with words, Y/N."
You smile. "I sure hope so. My entire dream depends on it."
He turns serious. "Well, you'll learn a lot today. We're going to film the parts of the song that we need to, and it'll take more than a couple of tries. You'll see us get flustered, and tired, and hungry, and frustrated. One of us may even get mad at another—it's been known to happen—but someone else will step in and help out."
"And are you usually the peacemaker around here, or the instigator?"
"I . . . opt not to answer that question."
"By refusing to respond, you answer it for me."
"That's only because you're highly intelligent." He moves closer to you.
"Not at all. It's common sense. People want to save face. They'll avoid saying anything that will make them look bad. I've studied this in my character development classes—I know."
"I don't doubt it." He half-whispers, getting closer still.
"And seeing as how you were such a chatterbox earlier when you were nervous, you probably get quiet and despondent when you're frustrated. They're quite different emotions—at least in my book—so you're bound to have converse responses."
"You already know me so well." His lips are inches from yours.
"JIMIN! WE START SHOOTING IN FIVE!" A yell interrupts.
"Ughhh," he whines. "Duty calls."
_________________________
In what seems like a flash, Jimin is in front of the cameras. It's a real "Avengers Assemble" moment, except with seven extremely attractive Korean men dressed in suits. Tae's in navy, and Jungkook—who seems to be the star of the show—is in white. You're unsure of the others' names; there was no time for introductions like Jimin had planned.
They line up in a v-formation with Jungkook at the helm. Jimin's near the back . . .
But you cannot, for the life of you, take your eyes off of him as he starts dancing.
It's anything but a simple dance. The song has a steady, powerful beat—and Jimin follows it exactly. Every part of him is moving: feet, shoulders, hips . . . you cannot stop watching his hips.
You brought your favorite notebook and pen, planning to absorb as much as you can for your research. But not a lot gets written down. What words could you even use to describe it? Enthralling? Entrancing? Mesmerizing?
How about just sexy?
Woah, you tell yourself. Stop it. You can do this. Focus.
They do about five takes of the dance. A few of them sing along with the backing track (they'd recorded the song beforehand so they would have something to dance to), but Jimin isn't one of them. They take breaks in between to swig some water, and the makeup artists come out of the shadows to freshen the boys' looks. By the fifth take, the directors are fairly satisfied with the results—but Jimin doesn't seem to be.
"I don't think I'm hitting the beat quite right when Jin starts singing," he says. He crouches behind the camera equipment to watch the playback. "Yup. Right there. I'm coming in late."
"Jimin-ah, you've been dancing perfectly," says one of the taller ones. He seems to be the leader of the group. "If the film crew doesn't see a problem, I think we can move on to the next shot."
"One more try, Namjoon-ah. Please," Jimin pleads.
You watch as Jimin practically writhes in discomfort. He nervously pulls at his fingers and runs his hands through his hair as he watches the playback over and over again. What's going through his head is as clear as day to you.
He's being much, much too hard on himself.
You're unsure of how to approach him. You feel out of place among all these professionals—you're just some random, nerdy screenwriter, after all—but you want to help him.
Your feet start moving before your brain realizes what you're doing. You emerge from your comfortable spot in the background and walk towards the camera station. He sees you approaching out of the corner of his eye and turns to look at you. You stop in your tracks, sheer panic hitting you like a semi-truck. What do I say to him? You manage a weak, shy smile.
And he matches it with a grin: one that holds the power to explode any heart.
"Very well," Jimin says to Namjoon. "Let's move on."
The team quickly shoots the scene for one of the rapper's parts, and then it's time for Jimin's solo at the bridge of the song. The hair and makeup team has altered his look just a little bit; the suit jacket has come off, and a few more of the buttons on his dress shirt have been popped. He struts out of his trailer, spotting you waiting off to the side.
"I'm sorry for all the wait. But at least now you know that the industry requires a lot of patience."
You force your eyes to leave his bare chest. "It's okay. I'm learning a lot." Only half a lie.
"That's awesome." A long pause ensues. His eyes travel downwards. "It's . . . it can be intense. I wish—"
"Park Jimin! Get up to that viewing platform, now!" Interrupted again.
He cringes. "I'm sorry this keeps happening."
A director walks up, and proceeds to literally drag Jimin away from you.
You trail behind the posse, struggling to keep up in your wedges. You clutch your notebook to your chest. What was he about to say? He wishes . . . he wishes what? Thoughts swirl through your head, and excitement swirls through your stomach.
Focus up, you tell yourself. You review the minimal notes you've taken on the band members—just a page of bullet points—as you walk. Supportive of one another. Self-deprecating to a fault. Busy as can be . . .
You stand on the fringe of the film crew as Jimin readies himself for his solo. He does a few vocal exercises and stretches, and even takes a few moments to do some deep breathing. After a few minutes, he says: "I'm ready."
You, however, are not ready for what he's about to do.
There's no dancing this time. His job is pretty much just to walk across the viewing platform, lean against the railing a bit, and sing his part of the bridge. It's a beautiful scene, but next to what you witnessed earlier, it seems underwhelming—at first.
But then he opens his mouth.
It's your first time hearing him sing—and you are again at a loss for words. You can't imagine a sound clearer, a voice more beautiful. It's a voice with the power to caress you gently, to bring you to tears, to take you to places unexplored. The pure emotion he puts into it is unparalleled.
If I could capture this feeling in my writing, you think, I would be the most renowned screenwriter in the world.
It takes him about an hour to get it "just right," but every single take sounds like perfection to you. When he's finally finished, he downs a bottle of water and uses a towel to dry the beads of sweat forming along his hairline and collarbone. He's exhausted; clearly, he's not used to the heat. His face goes white, and he looks like he might pass out.
But you catch his eye, and he summons up enough strength to climb down the stairs to talk to you.
"Jimin, that . . ." you stumble over yourself, averting his gaze. "There are no words."
"There had better be. Your dream depends upon it, remember?"
"There's no way I can capture what you just did."
He glances down at the ground, kicking a pebble, hands in his pockets. His smile makes another appearance, the color returning to his face.
"Jimin," you start. He looks up. "Earlier, outside your trailer, you started to say something. Something about wishing . . ."
Suddenly, panic fills his eyes. "Look at the time, Y/N!"
You notice he's not wearing a watch.
He starts leading you down the path back to the main setup. "You must be getting hungry. I'll have the car take you back home. You've been up here all day—you've probably sunburned. Later, I can show you some skincare products that I swear by. J-Hope and Yoongi and I love to do face masks together. It's great bonding time, you know?" By the time you reach the road, the limo is there waiting. "Text me and let me know you got home safe. I hope you learned a lot today—you're going to be a great screenwriter someday."
He stuffs you into the limo, closes the door, and walks off.
During your descent back into LA, you feel deflated and disappointed. What the crap was that? He'd almost kissed me earlier . . . what changed since then?
Besides Jimin's enigmatic goodbye, the only words that run through your mind on the trip home are those Tae had said to you:
He gets chatty when he's nervous.
#bts#bangtan sonyeondan#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts fanfiction#park jimin#park jimin x reader#park jimin fanfiction#jimin#bts jimin#jimin x reader#jimin fanfiction#jimin fanfic#park jimin fanfic#jimin fic#inspired by La La Land#La La(chimolala) Land
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