#they’re the types of passengers to talk too loud during quiet hours and bring the wrath of everyone else down upon all 3 of you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ellewords · 4 years ago

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hey elle! i saw your answers for the questions i sent—i love coffee and cookie dough ice cream too! i’ve found that i like a lot of coffee-flavored stuff like ice cream, cake, and candy lol. i also really love cookies and cream! i’d say that’d be my favorite with coffee and cookie dough being VERY CLOSE seconds

BABY DON’T STOP IS ICONIC WHEW but may i propose....haikyuu boys dancing to it.......

anyways today i’ve got some headcanons for a past written on the margins question! first it was a karaoke party with the seijoh 4, and now it’s a road trip! aka you and iwaizumi are the only ones with any braincells in this godforsaken car (they make you handle the gps stuff since you’re the best with it). i can imagine each of them rotating and driving for a set number of hours or at least until they reach a rest stop, especially on long trips. whoever’s sitting shotgun (they rotate between this seat too) has control over the radio and aux cord and oikawa jokes that it’s the best part of going on road trips (but is he really joking though...)

makki and mattsun pretend to groan when you sit shotgun, but in actuality they don’t mind and will probably sing along to some of the songs you play (if there’s a rap part in the song currently playing everyone makes mattsun rap along i feel like his voice just fits it) while oikawa would be like UGH FINALLY SOMEONE WITH SOME MUSIC TASTE just to get a rise out of the other boys (but he really does think those kpop songs you blast lowkey slap he’s been listening to some of them while he works out or goes on his morning runs). iwa generally doesn’t have much of a preference but i can see him being partial to more upbeat songs to keep him or whoever’s driving awake, but even during slow songs the rest of you guys sing loud enough and chaotic enough to prevent anyone from getting any shut-eye (oikawa, makki, and mattsun dramatically act out a whole SAGA)

when you guys reach any rest stop makki is the first one out of the car and he makes a beeline towards the bathroom because he drank a lot of water during you guys’ impromptu karaoke session (gotta keep those vocal chords taken care of!). oikawa and mattsun are usually the ones in charge of getting snacks, they always end up getting a lot but they make sure to get everyone’s favorites! the amount of snacks they buy seems overkill but they’re athletic boys with voracious appetites and getting this many snacks ensures that the car is never short on food. if this is during or post-timeskip iwa is probably a little more strict on the snacks everyone eats (especially with regards to oikawa, being a professional athlete and all) but eventually decides to let up a bit—it’s not everyday he gets to go on a trip with his close friends, plus all those calories are gonna get burned right away once you guys reach your destination and go from place to place.

god help anyone who actually falls asleep in the car because oikawa and makki are taking photos of whoever’s sleeping with their phones AND with the polarioid camera you brought. despite this, though, everyone makes a conscious effort to be quieter when someone’s napping, and the volume of the radio is turned a bit lower. one of your favorite pictures on your phone is a selfie you took of everyone while you were sitting in the passenger seat: mattsun was driving at the time and though he wasn’t looking at the camera, a smile is on his face as he makes a peace sign with one hand; oikawa, iwa, and makki are sleeping in the back seats with oikawa and makki leaning on iwa’s shoulders (he lost a few rounds of rock paper scissors and had to sit in the middle). this also extends to when you’re asleep in the car as well—oikawa jokingly made his phone background a selfie of you leaning on his shoulder while napping (featuring a blurry iwaizumi at the side) but he actually finds it quite cute and doesn’t want to change it to his usually background quite yet.

it’s evening when you guys finally reach your hotel and everyone’s a bit tired from being cooped up in the car all day but surprisingly enough no one’s really sleepy because everyone at one point had the opportunity to nap on the way there. if you’re dating one of the boys the others DEFINITELY make you two take one room while the other three take the room adjacent to it. after everyone’s gotten ready for bed you’re all gathered in one of the hotel rolls just vibing on your phones and you and oikawa decide it’s the perfect time to bring out The Sheet Masks™️ that you kept in the cooler in the car during the trip so they’d remain cold. many more goofy photos of everyone with the masks on their faces are taken.

by this point it’s late at night and eventually you guys fall into having some nice, genuine heart-to-heart conversations. if this is during or post-timeskip everyone’s sharing what they’ve been up to ever since graduation or ever since you guys last saw/talked to each other. it’s just such a nice and comforting environment to be in because everyone’s a little tired from the day’s events and so it’s not as loud and boisterous, but at the same time this tiredness and it being nighttime means everyone’s filters are a little looser than usual and you could ask for advice on just about anything and everyone else would chime in with both lighthearted and actual suggestions. the boys are just SOFTER during this time like you could bring up how you’ve been getting back into something you did during high school (like playing piano or guitar or something) and they’d want you to show them videos or pictures of what you’ve been up to! maybe one boy brings up something that’s been worrying them for a while and you and the others are giving him words of encouragement while also cracking jokes. it’s just really chill and nice and everyone likes these late night talks because they bring you all a little closer.

everyone ends up sleeping in the same hotel room. you wake up sandwiched between oikawa and mattsun (oikawa’s got an arm thrown around you and mattsun’s long leggies are literally on top of yours and you wonder how you managed to sleep soundly last night) and iwa and makki are on the pull out sofa bed and you’re like Hey Guys. What The Heck (makki takes this opportunity to snap a photo of the three of you wrapped up in the bedcovers) and when you guys go to get breakfast at the hotel buffet it’s strangely quiet because almost everyone is still sleepy lol.

after getting some food in your system and getting ready for the day you’re all back to your usual energetic selves! you snap a mirror selfie of everyone gathered around the sink in one of the hotel rooms because oikawa was finishing getting ready (he takes the longest i just know it) and the other boys were just hanging around him talking about what’s planned for the day. the schedule you guys have isn’t super specific but there’s a few choice locations that you guys looked into in advance and try to visit no matter what! a day out with them is definitely filled with photos. you’ve got a lot of them in which they’re trying to recreate some funny pose in a picture oikawa saw online (like the one of nct in the ask i sent you earlier!!) and they either turn out really great or really horrible (funny) because you have a knack for taking photos where everything looks normal but someone’s face would be really blurry. but they would also try and take some really nice photos too—they’ll all even help you if you want to take some solo shots! oikawa and makki know the best angles for aesthetically pleasing photos, mattsun has a knack for taking panorama photos that look perfect, and iwaizumi’s really good at taking those types of photos of you guys jumping in the air without them looking weird. you’ve basically got four tall hypemen it’s great!!

overall i think it’d be so fun to go on a trip with them because it’s the perfect balance!! they’re chaotic clowns but they also won’t hesitate to give you a piggyback ride if your feet really hurt or if your shoes are giving you blisters (oikawa will try and make iwa give him a piggyback ride too, though). you guys end up getting a lot closer and having a TON of photos and inside jokes at the end of the trip, and though you’re all reluctant to go back, you also all know that this is only the beginning of a lot more outings together! if you take little clips of various events throughout the trip and compile them all together into a little vlog they’ll all probably watch it together through zoom or discord screenshare or something loool

THIS IS SO LONG take a shot (of water) every time i say one of the guys’ names or if i say “everyone” or some variation of it FJDJSNS seijoh 4 brainrot things am i right.....i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing and thinking of this! i think in the future i might think of stuff for if you go on a trip with the miya twins (and maybe suna too?).....hmmm hmmm hmmm!!! —🌸

— from elle ! i love this so so much >_< like literally what do i have to do to go on a road trip with the seijoh four??? it would be so much fun and chaotic and i want that for me,, i love them and their friendship so much it's insane ;-; anyways, thoughts + additions under the cut <33 thank you for this !!

everyone who isn't driving makes it their mission to annoy the one who is; whether it's through repeatedly poking their cheek, asking how long of the drive they have left, etc. the person who can last the longest in driver's seat would probably be iwaizumi, all his years playing volleyball with them as prepared him for this moment — but also looked up breathing exercises to avoid getting angry.

the best person to have riding shotgun would most be mattsun, especially when it's really late or super early ; keeps the conversation going and doesn't fall asleep, even when everyone in the backseat is. he shotguns energy drinks every hour or so.

i love the idea of oikawa, makki, and mattsun acting out a whole saga in the backseat omg !! in my head it's a song like taylor swift's love story wherein makki is the love interest, oikawa is taylor, and mattsun is like the dad who doesn't want them together. they really go all out on the acting — oikawa might have let out a couple of tears — and even iwa cracks a lil smile from the driver's seat.

awe timeskip!iwa watching out for everyone's diets ;-; but i do agree that he's gonna let up a bit considering that everyone doesn't see each other all the time. but i feel like he gives everyone the look™ every now and then despite this.

aw cmon don't hit me with oikawa making his background me leaning on his shoulder as i sleep that's so adorable i might cry :<< but other photos taken during naps include : iwa leaning on oikawa’s shoulder, makki sleeping with his eyes halfway-open ??? mattsun’s face covered in stickers that you impulse-bought at a random stopover.

sheet masks with the boys ??? yes pls !! though iwa would definitely be the type to almost wash his face after and oikawa screeched just before he was able to splash water on his face.

but late in the night heart to hearts ??? ugh, peak softness from the boys — everyone cries at some point because woah all of you really grew so much since high school and it made everyone feel all warm and tender.

but at some point, without thinking, and also bec it’s late and what does he have to lose, iwa just goes “you know, i had a crush on you when we were in high school” at yn and everyone just goes ?!?!?!?!?

yn : what the hell i had a crush on you ????

and oikawa’s just cackling in the background like, “i knew it !!!! both of you kept saying i was crazy for pushing it i feel so vindicated rn”

meanwhile makki hands mattsun some money because they bet on it years ago and they were finally getting answers — makki thought you would confess first and mattsun thought it would be iwa ; several years too late but at least ;//

also i would just love to fall asleep in between oikawa and mattsun,,, please how do i get that

also on mattsun’s panoramas: everyone likes moving around a lot when he takes those photos and it’s the perfect mix of weird and cool because yeah there are like five makki’s but one of them looks like he has a third arm and a triangular head

and the vlog and we all get to watch it together over discord ???? that’s it, that’s what i want ;-;

tldr; I would give anything to go on a road trip with the seijoh four ;((

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

a question: what are the hq characters like on a road trip? | written on the margins masterlist

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs @mysticstrawberryballoon @cloudedsky_29 @sakusasimpbot @aoirohi @kokogxddess @tooru--o @meiankolia

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#seijoh four road trip how ???#I wanna go on one with them so bad :<<#written on the margins 🔖#haikyuu hcs #🎐 — 🌸sakuranon! <3

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scullydubois · 4 years ago

Text

Only the Light ch. 5

read on Ao3 here. read the earlier parts here.

Description: Mulder & Scully head to Aubrey, Missouri, but not without a few bumps in the road...

WC: 3,527 words

tagging @today-in-fic

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Five days. She was five days late. She had never been five days late for anything in her life. Why did it have to be this? Always the perfectionist, she double, then triple checks her math. For once, she hates being right. Five days off, no matter how many times she counts it.

She looks at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. It shudders back at her. This is not possible, she thinks. Her cycle is always on time, and she hasn’t done anything lately near the type of activity that would get her pregnant. But by now, she knows better. Anything is possible, including the unthinkable. Especially the unthinkable. No amount of disbelieving can stop the force of the universe. No amount of believing can either, no matter how devout. These are truths she wishes she never learned.

It occurs to her that she sounds like her sister, which makes her chuckle to herself despite the dreary circumstances. That’s what a few weeks of living with someone can do to you. Then again, maybe it isn’t Missy who’s changing her. The voice in her head sounds more and more like Mulder these days. It scares her sometimes...how succinctly he can present his point of view, how she’d spent almost three decades skeptical and comfortable in this belief and now--less than two years later--she could almost believe him. Wants to believe him, no less.

Mostly though, she wants the truth. Which is what he wants too, but he has a preconceived notion of what he wants that truth to be, and won’t ever be satisfied, she thinks, until he is proven right. The thought that he might never have satisfaction makes her stomach ache. Or maybe that’s a symptom of her other problem...regardless, Scully finds that the notion of never getting answers to their quest makes her want to dissolve into thin air. The desire to disappear was new to her. How odd, to care so much it makes you wish you had never cared at all. This was new to her too.

But as always, she has to keep going, keep moving, keep working, keep her sanity. She puts in her earrings, swipes on her lipstick, and switches off the bathroom light. In her bedroom, she puts on her favorite pair of heels (the most comfortable ones) and zips the pockets on her suitcase. She rolls it into the kitchen, where Missy sips coffee with so much cream it might as well be milk.

“You’re here late,” Melissa remarks.

Scully nods. “I have a flight to Missouri.”

“Oh.” Missy sets the mug down. “Will you be home tonight?”

“I don’t know...maybe...hopefully.”

“Yet you packed a whole suitcase?”

Scully casts a stray glance at the luggage. “I like to be prepared.”

Missy frowns. “Don’t you think you should take a leave of absence?”

As if she didn’t hear, Scully asks, “What?”

“All this traveling and the long hours, while you’re recovering from trauma, no less. It’s not good for you.”

Scully purses her lips. “I’d rather be traveling and working than sitting around here all day.”

“You mean you’d rather be ignoring your feelings.”

Scully recoils, as wounded by this as anything. Being seen as you are never gets easier. It hurts just as much as when they were teenagers and Missy told her she was too nerdy to ever be cool (“and why would you want to be?” is the part she always forgets about), or when they were kids and Missy wouldn’t share her dolls because Scully was “not a good mommy.” If psychics were real, Missy would be one.

Not that Scully would admit that.

“I’ll have plenty of time to process my feelings on the plane,” Scully half-jokes.

“But you won’t!” Missy retorts in good humor as Scully heads for the door.

And then, because they’re sisters and no amount of ill will could change that, Missy yells across the place, “Love you! Be careful! Bye!”

Scully laughs as she unlocks the door. “Bye, Missy! Don’t throw any parties while I’m gone.”

“Uh-huh.”

And so the natural balance of things is restored.

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

She meets Mulder in the terminal at Dulles and they go through their usual morning flight routine: coffee & breakfast (a breakfast sandwich for him, a bagel for her), a stop at the kiosk for Mulder to buy sunflower seeds (he buys her a trashy gossip magazine for fun every time), and a brisk jog to their gate because why “waste time,” as Mulder puts it, by showing up early. There’s usually a remark from Scully about how she’s wearing heels so he needs to slow down, followed by him quipping that she needs to get her head in the game, at which point she reminds him that his legs are at least twice as long as hers.

“It’s not the heels that are the problem,” she teases. “And while we’re on the subject, you wouldn’t be able to pass a sobriety test stone-cold sober in these.”

“You get one cup of coffee in this woman, and suddenly the trash talk comes out,” Mulder says to the air.

“You better watch out or we’ll switch shoes and see how you like it.”

“You underestimate me, Dana Scully.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

“I’d prove it, but it would only make you look even more vertically challenged than you already are,” he taunts.

“Not when the heels snap and you turn them into flats.”

“Touché.”

They have some form of this conversation before nearly every flight. It’s one of their rituals, a comforting familiarity in an often uncomfortable line of work. No matter what has happened, they can return to this harmless banter and find solace in it. Scully’s dad died, but they were here. Deep Throat got shot, but they were here. Scully was kidnapped, but they are here again. Scully wonders if the rest of her life will continue this way. She’s not sure if that would be a good or bad thing. She does not say any of this out loud.

They board their flight without any problem. Mulder lifts their suitcases into the overhead compartment as Scully scoots into the window seat. That’s a benefit to traveling with Mulder; he needs the space, so he always takes the aisle seat, leaving Scully with whatever gorgeous view the flight graces them with.

Of course, she usually isn’t looking. Unsurprisingly, Scully’s flight activity of choice is catching up on her reading. The case files, the morning newspaper, sometimes even the gossip magazine Mulder bought her if the case doesn’t keep her busy. She makes a mental note to give this copy to Missy when she gets back. Cheesy stuff like that always makes her smile.

Mulder’s preferred activity, on the other hand, is sleeping. He doesn’t do much of that and has come to realize that a plane is actually one of the easiest, most comfortable places for him to fall asleep. His in-flight power naps are treasured by both him and Scully, who gets through her reading uninterrupted and--every once in a while--uses the occasion to observe the way her partner’s mouth hangs slightly open and his chest rises and falls with his breath. She doesn’t get to notice these things when he falls asleep in their rental car, though that doesn’t happen very often. She’s the one who’s prone to dozing off during a late night drive past cornfields, or deserts, or plains. Perhaps it has something to do with comfort, or the lack of it. She could never sleep on the plane with all these strangers around. The car is much cozier.

The flight to Missouri passes uneventfully. Mulder snores, quiet enough that Scully is almost certain she’s the only one who can hear it. This makes her smile. She wonders, as she frequently does during moments like this, if he is dreaming and what he dreams about. Consorting with aliens, probably. Does he dream about her, or would she be a stranger in his land of dreams? He is no stranger in hers, that’s for sure.

Soon enough the wheels hit the tarmac, and Mulder wakes up almost instantly. Is it any wonder that he’s so at home in the sky? He’s been looking that way for most of his life. It’s the ground that’s alien to him.

Mulder pulls the carry-ons from the overhead bin and they exit the plane in the same way they spent the flight, silent but content. They agreed early on that they wouldn’t talk much on flights. It’s like talking in a library. They get the witty banter out of the way in the airport and leave the more interesting stuff for the rental car. Luckily, they never run out of things to discuss.

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

They move through the airport and sign for a rental car. Mulder takes the keys and they hop in, Mulder in the driver’s seat, Scully on the passenger’s side. Mulder cranks the engine. It grumbles in response.They are alone for the first time all morning.

Scully unfolds a pastel paper map they bought in the shop. “So you’re going to get on I-29 and head north,” she instructs. “Stay on that for a while, it looks like we’re fairly far away from Aubrey.”

“The Bureau couldn’t have picked a closer airport for us to fly into, huh?”

“I guess it’s more cost effective if we finish the last leg of the trip ourselves.”

“It won’t be when I use the Bureau credit card to fill up this piece of junk.” He flashes a smile toward the passenger seat, shifting his gaze off the road a moment to see if she’s smiling too.

She is, but she keeps her lips together, unwilling to give herself away so easily. There’s a telltale sparkle in her eyes though.

Mulder pulls out of the parking lot. “I’ve been meaning to ask you what Melissa was doing at your place the other night. You didn’t mention anything about her being in town.”

Scully purses her lips, keeps her eyes on the map. She’s been hoping that he would not bring this up.

“She’s staying with me for a bit,” she says as casually as possible. “She got a hostess job downtown.”

“So she’s living in DC now?”

“Essentially.” She glances at the map. “Go right.” Mulder listens.

“Where was she living before?”

“The West Coast. An assortment of places. She’s a bit of a wanderer.” She focuses on the map, hoping this will quell the conversation. Mulder doesn’t pick up this signal. He’s watching the road.

“She didn’t come around for your father’s funeral, did she? I don’t remember you talking about her.”

Scully frowns at the map. “No, she didn’t.”

Missy and their father’s relationship had been strained for a number of years. While he didn’t necessarily criticize his eldest daughter for her life choices like their mother sometimes did, he couldn’t understand them, and that was somehow worse. Once he realized that Melissa wasn’t going to fulfill the dreams he had for her, he essentially stopped checking in with her. Not wanting to disappoint him any further, Melissa let them fall out of contact.

This is different from their mother, who makes her opinion about Melissa’s decisions very clear. She’s under the impression that by being straightforward with her daughter, she can have some influence over her life. This has created an odd relationship between them: strained, but in frequent contact. Scully can relate.

“She wanted to be there, but we couldn’t reach her in time. It really upset her, she didn’t talk to my mom until my...incident.”

Mulder casts a sympathetic glance Scully’s way. “Ah.”

They merge onto I-29, their car joining the dozens of others already speeding toward some unknown destination. Mulder is reminded of a thought he often has while driving, and seeing as he’s made Scully share more than she wanted to, he decides to lighten the mood by saying it out loud.

“Driving has always reminded me of a dance,” he says, making brief eye contact with his passenger.

Scully raises her eyebrows, amused by this sudden change of topic. “How so?”

“It’s just a bunch of strangers trying to match each other’s rhythm and not step on any feet.”

“You make it sound so romantic,” Scully replies, unconvinced.

“I mean, it kind of is, isn’t it?...There’s so many songs about it.”

Scully laughs. “I take it back. If there’s so many songs about it, it must be true.”

Mulder smiles. “That’s what I’m saying.”

Speaking of music, Scully switches the radio on. A local country station blasts through the speakers, some song about drinking whiskey and pulling off a gravel road to watch stars from a truck bed.

“See?” Mulder jokes. “Height of romance.”

Scully turns it down, but doesn’t bother to change the station. Mulder now has the courage to ask the question he’s been holding onto.

“So why is Melissa staying with you? Why not get her own place?”

The edges of Scully’s lips tilt down. This again?

“We get along well, so we thought it would be nice. Like being teenagers again.”

Mulder braces himself for an unpleasant reaction from his partner. “So it has nothing to do with your abduction?”

Scully bites her lip.

“Jesus, Mulder.”

“What? You don’t offer information unless I ask. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He glances at her. She’s looking out the window.

“I’m okay,” she confirms.

“You know, if you just elaborated a little bit, I wouldn’t have to ask such prying questions.”

Scully rolls her eyes. “You sound like Melissa.”

“Good. She knows exactly how to handle you.”

“Handle me?” Scully straightens up in her seat. He waited until she was trapped to confront her. What a shitty move.

“How to talk to you, I mean. You’re good at evading the point.”

“And you’re using your interrogation training against me,” she responds, clearly irritated.

“What do you mean?”

“You lightened the mood so I would trust you, then hit back with the toughest question yet. The one you really wanted an answer to.”

Mulder frowns. He had done this instinctively, not realizing that he was treating her like a suspect.

“I’m sorry,” he responds without hesitation. “That wasn’t my intention.”

Scully crosses her arms. “Of course not,” she says curtly.

The drive continues in silence, Scully only speaking up to give him directions off the map. The country station is the only one with anything to say, the singers drawling about booze, babes, and of course, driving. This frays Scully’s nerves. After one song too many about a pick-up truck, Scully switches the radio off.

Mulder wants to make a joke, but now is really not the time. Instead, he focuses on what he’ll say to her when they get to the motel. She needs to be pushed to talk, he knows this and deep down, she does too. He pushed her too hard though, in a manipulative way, and it’s up to him to straighten this out. He knows Scully well enough to know that if there’s no trust, there’ll be no openness. But that trust has to be genuine, not coerced or manufactured. He’ll have to work on building that up again if he wants to know what truly ails her.

The rest of the drive takes about 45 minutes. They don’t even discuss the case. Scully gives directions, Mulder follows them, and they end up in tiny Aubrey, Missouri. It’s just after noon when Mulder cuts the engine in their motel parking lot.

“You hungry?” he asks.

Scully clicks off her seatbelt, reaches for the passenger door. “I’m fine.”

Mulder watches her get out. He pops the trunk so she can grab the suitcases, then meets her at the back of the car. She lugs her suitcase out of the trunk and sets it down beside her. She’s mad at him, but she’s waiting for him. Mulder takes this as a good sign. He grabs his carry-on and shuts the trunk. It thuds closed, shaking the car.

Scully looks up at him. He expects her to say something, then takes the chance when she doesn’t--

“Hey, I know I overstepped my boundaries earlier, and I’m sorry. I just...I was supposed to protect you, and I failed. I’m trying to make up for that by looking out for you now.”

The expression on Scully’s face is as neutral as ever. She extends the handle on her suitcase and turns toward the motel.

She speaks to Mulder from over her shoulder. She’s not mad now, just insistent. “You didn’t fail.” She starts toward the entrance, rolling her suitcase along with her. Mulder jogs for a few strides to catch up with her. He wasn’t expecting her to take off like that.

“You became an X-file on my watch. That’s failure,” he responds.

“It’s my fault. Don’t guilt trip yourself.”

“Are you kidding me?” He freezes in the middle of the parking lot. Scully turns around and walks back to him, not wanting to have this argument here, or ever really.

“Mulder…”

He puts his hands on her shoulders. “Did Skinner ever tell you that I handed him a resignation letter while you were lying unconscious in the hospital? When I was pretty sure you were gonna die because of what I got you involved in?”

His eyes are dark, dark brown right now. Almost black, Scully notices. They’re not like this often. She sighs, then shakes her head. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“If you had--” he leaves a space for the word ”--that would have been it for me. With the X-files, the FBI, all of it. I couldn’t save my sister, and if I had lost you, the chase just wouldn’t be worth it anymore.”

And so they’ve found themselves sharing a very sincere moment in the middle of a motel parking lot.

“That’s not true, Mulder,” Scully tells him, her voice grating. “You would have been more determined to find the truth.”

He shakes his head. “I would have imploded. Collapsed in on myself. You’re the only thing keeping me in check, and the fact is, we wouldn’t have made it this far in our search if it weren’t for you.”

Scully isn’t sure how to respond. She’s adamant that he would have continued on without her, that he would go far and wide to find answers, and that he would get justice for Samantha and her if they had both fallen victim to the conspiracy. She’s also aware that this is not what he wants to hear at the moment, and seeing as he’s being so complimentary, it would be smarter just to let it go.

“Okay, Mulder. I believe you.” How often did he get to hear that, out of her mouth no less?

“Thank you,” he says, as if she’d just agreed that he would become king of the world, not that he would inevitably fall apart without her. This time, he leads the march toward the motel entrance. Scully follows in-step with him.

They’re heading up the entrance ramp when Mulder stops short yet again. Scully’s forehead bangs against his back.

“Ow!” he jests, letting out a laugh as she turns to her. “You okay?”

Scully’s face has turned as red as her hair, but other than that, she’s fine. She nods.

“I was going to ask if you ever heard what happened to Duane Barry.”

At the sound of that name, the color flushes itself right out of Scully’s face.

“Just that he died in custody.” Her voice is clipped.

“Oh.” Mulder scratches his chin, wishing that he hadn’t brought this up. Of course, this is Scully we’re talking about, and she’s not going to let him off easy.

“Why?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

An elderly couple scrambles up the ramp and walks around them, a bell ringing when they open the door. Mulder waits for it to shut before continuing.

“Well, um, he did die in custody. He stopped breathing shortly after I...uh, I squeezed his windpipe.”

Scully’s mouth drops open. “Mulder, you killed him?!” she hisses.

He moves closer, pulls her farther from the doorway. “That’s a good example of what I mean by collapsing in on myself,” he whispers calmly.

This is so frank that Scully almost laughs. She stares up at him in (relieved) disbelief. “How did you--”

“I don’t know, and I’m not gonna question it.”

Scully nods. “That’s probably for the best.” Their eyes meet, a shared acknowledgement of what they have been through together, because of each other, and for each other. The reality of it is at once tragic and downright comical. Mulder laughs, and then Scully does too.

“You may have gotten more than you bargained for when you walked into that basement office,” Mulder quips.

“Oh yes,” Scully confirms, her voice light and fluttery. “Oh yes.”

They make their way into the motel at last, ready for whatever the case has to offer. They may solve it, or not. Regardless, it is their line of work, and they will do it together.

~~thank you for reading!!

#as i'll prob say every time #this got longer than i intended #missy & scully fic #only the light fic #the x-files #the x files #fan fiction #fan fic #x files #txf #msr #fox mulder #dana scully #mine

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hannahcoursey · 4 years ago

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Jealous Minds Part 2

Author: Hannahc56

Word Count: 3,391

Request: Hi! Can I put in a request for a dean x reader? Dean and the reader are friends with benefits and neither want a relationship because they’re too much pressure for both of them being hunters. But then during a case, YN runs into an old boyfriend and they actually had a great relationship and broke up because he had to move for work and they both got out to catch up and Dean is super jealous because he wants that same type of relationship with her. (Sorry if it’s too much. LOVE YOUR WORK!!!)

PART ONE

A few hours had passed and you found yourself eagerly waiting for Daryn to pull into the gravel parking lot of the motel. You had put on a nice pair of jeans, without blood or holes, and a nice black tank top. You’d popped in a pair of earrings you always had sitting in the bottom of your bag that you never got to wear. With a few quick swipes of mascara, you were as dolled up as you were going to get. It wasn’t much, but you felt alright and put together for once and a small part of yourself wish you could do this more often. It was nice to feel pretty every now and then, but your lifestyle didn’t call for a nice manicure or decent clothes. Loud pounding on the door pulled you out of your thoughts, as you took one more look at yourself in the mirror before running to open it. The smile fell off your lips when the door revealed Dean. His face was hard, it was obvious he was in deep thought. When he looked up and saw you, his expression softened. The two of you stood there while he took every inch of you in. A heat rose to your cheeks and you cleared your throat.

“Can I help you with something?” You asked, leaning your arm on the door. Dean’s eyes shot up to yours and he slightly shook his head.

“I-I just wanted to come and,” he hesitated, licking his lips, “Wish you good luck on your date.” He finished. You rolled your eyes and sighed.

“Funny, Dean. See ya.” You turned to shut the door, but his hand sprawled across it.

“No, I mean it,” He nodded, “I know how much you cared about Daryn, I-I hope that it goes alright.” He said, letting his hand fall away from the door. You stared at him, your brows crunched in confusion of what sort of scheme he was playing at. His eyes darted back and forth between yours as your brain searched for words to string together to respond. When you didn’t say anything, his eyes fell to the ground and he nodded slow. “You look nice.” He said, his lips in a tight smile, “Anyways, have fun.” He finished, before turning and walking away, leaving you standing in the doorway. You blinked, trying to process the words that’d just come from his lips. Your heart felt like a cinder block in your chest. You let your hand fall to the door knob and slowly pushed the door shut. You leaned against it, your mind running a million miles a minute. Across the room from you was a dusty mirror, only your reflection stared back at you. Why was your heart pounding in your chest? Why were you even going on this date? Was this even to be considered a date? Before you could answer any of the questions that rattled around in your mind, a loud knock from behind the door you were leaning against shook you out of the deep consciousness you’d fallen into with a jump. Maybe Dean was back - maybe he was going to tell you not to go, that the two of you would spend the rest of the night tangled up in the scratchy motel sheets, whispering throughout the night, stealing kisses on exposed skin. The thought alone had you ready to bolt out of your room to find him. You turned and opened the door, Dean’s name about to fall off your tongue, when your eyes fell on Daryn.

His eyes shimmered when he saw you, a smile lighting up his face. Your expression dropped for a moment, before you forced a smile. He pulled a small bouquet of roses from behind his back and flashed his picture perfect grin at you.

“Daryn, these are beautiful,” You shook your head and accepted the gesture, “You shouldn’t have.” You turned and set them down on the table beside you. He threw a hand up and waved.

“Hey, it’s the least I could do,” He laughed, as you pulled the door shut, locking it behind you. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at you as if he was memorizing every detail of your face. Color rose to your cheeks and you looked down. “You ready?” He asked, your eyes floating up to meet his again. You nodded and followed him as he walked over to his car, a new sporty car that surely was meant to be impressive. He walked with you to the passenger side and held open the door for you as you got in. Right as you sat down, you heard someone call your name from down the motel strip. You looked around, scanning for someone underneath the overhead flicking lights of the walkway until your gaze fell on Dean. He waved a hand at Daryn, who hesitantly waved in return.

“Have her back by midnight alright? Trust me, you don’t wanna see what she looks like when the fairy godmother’s spell wears off.” He laughed, throwing a wink in your direction sarcastically before turning towards the motel room door and walking in. Daryn pulled open the driver side door and slide in the low-riding seat. His eyebrows were crunched in confusion as he looked over at you.

“So, do you guys usually share rooms or?” He trailed off, the awkward tension in the air filling the small cabin quickly. You felt embarrassment rise to your face as you shook your head, trying to laugh it off.

“No, no, most definitely not, he just was probably grabbing something from the room, I guess,” You struggled to string together a sentence and rubbed your hands against your thighs nervously. Daryn let out a strangled laugh and started the car without saying anything more. You looked out your window, silently cursing the older Winchester as your heart fluttered at the thought of the things the two of you did behind locked motel room doors.

The ride to the bar was mostly quiet, the sound of the radio filling the spaces where neither of you could manage the right words to say. When you pulled up, Daryn escorted you to a booth in the corner. The place was packed. It was loud, lights strobing every second, making it hard for you to make out where you were walking, and you struggled to imagine how fun it would be to actually get drunk in this type of atmosphere. The bass music of the loud rap made your chest rumble and you found yourself yearning for a biker bar, squeezed between the boys at the bar while classic rock played from a jukebox.

“Y/N? Y/N/N?” Daryn said your name and you shook yourself out of your daydream.

“I-I am so sorry, was I spacing out?” You ran a hand through your hair and took a breath, letting out a light laugh, “Long day, you know how it goes.” You gave him a grin. He nodded and waved down the bartender before turning his attention back to you.

“I was just saying how great you looked tonight,” He said, his tone genuine and inviting. You couldn’t fight the smile that rose to your face thinking of the memories the two of you shared.

“Well thank you Daryn,” You tucked the hair behind your ears and leaned forward on the table, “You don’t look half bad yourself.” You beamed at him. Before he could answer, the bartender stepped up and asked for your orders.

“I’ll take a-” You began, but Daryn reached out and laid his hand on top of yours, effectively stopping you in your tracks.

“I’ll take a beer and the beautiful lady will have a Vodka Cranberry please, extra cranberry.” He told the bartender as she nodded and walked off. A feeling you couldn’t put a name to filled your chest. Was it nostalgia? Or was it disappointment? You flashed him a quick smile. “Not too bad for not seeing you for this long, I still remember your favorite drink.” He laughed, reaching over and grabbing your other hand with his other hand, focusing entirely on you.

“No, I’m impressed, that was pretty good. I gotta tell you though, I’m more of a whiskey bourbon kinda gal these past few years.” You said, trying not to visibly shiver as the thought of a Long Island Iced Tea hangover. His eyes grew wide for a moment before he let out a breath.

“Wow, you?” He shook his head, “Now that surprises me. You could hardly keep it down when we were younger.” He chuckled, bringing back memories of your high school days, sneaking around drinking your parents alcohol.

“Well yeah,” You snorted, “We were drinking rubbing alcohol it seemed like, we had the nastiest stuff.” You felt yourself thinking of all the times you’d use a fake ID to get the cheapest vodka you could find, only for it to taste twice as bad the second time later on in the night.

“Yeah, yeah, that led to some pretty rough nights,” He agreed, squeezing your hands softly, “But also some of the best nights too, you know?” He finished, his voice softening as his expression did. And there it was - that same pang in your chest. The more it happened, the more it began to feel like disappointment seeping through your lungs. He stared at you, his iri’s moving from your E/C eyes to your lips. You nodded and pulled your hands out of his, pretending to scratch the back of your neck. He leaned back in the booth, your mind grasping for things to talk about.

“So, what have you been up to? You were at State College for half the first year then disappeared off the face of the earth, no one knew where you went.” He pried, your heart sinking to the bottom of your chest. God, anything but that question. You cleared your throat and tried to force eye contact, but the topic proved too difficult.

“T-That’s a very fair question,” You let out a laugh that came out more like a sigh, “I-I just needed some time off, I traveled for a while,” You said slowly, which wasn;t necessarily a lie, “And just needed to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.” You finished, trying to tell him as much of the half truth that was possible without getting too much into the nitty-gritty. It was true, technically. You did travel while hunting monsters with the brothers and you did struggle with what you wanted to do for awhile; keep fighting the good fight or take a stab at the apple pie life. He nodded slow, as if he was ingesting what you were telling him and you prayed he wasn’t overanalyzing it too much. The holes in your story would be too large for him not to notice how it didn’t add up. “Anyways,” You scrambled to try to change the subject, “What made you want to become a ranger? I never would have pegged you for the type.” You asked right as the bartender brought over your drinks. He smiled while looking down the neck of his beer, thinking of his answer. Before he had the chance, you phone rang in your pocket. You struggled to get it out of the small compartment of your tight jeans and threw a hand up to him and he nodded. The phone vibrated as Dean’s name flashed across the screen. Throwing your legs off the side of the booth, you made your way outside to answer.

“Dean?” You tried, holding the phone to one ear while you pressed a hand over the other. Mumbles came through the other end that sounded like gibberish. “Dean, I can’t hear you, gimme a second.” You said, hoping he could make out your words better than you could of his. As soon as your reached the parlor doors to the outside, you called his name again through the phone. “Okay, sorry about that, what’s up?” You asked, shoving your hand in your pocket.

“Y/N,” Dean said, his voice raw, causing your heart to plummet, “Something’s wrong, you need to get back here,” He coughed, hardly audible on the other end.

“Dean, talk to me, what’s going on?” You asked, panic rising in your tone.

“J-Just come home,” He wheezed before the line went dead. Your hands shook slightly, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You turned on your heel and ran through the crowd, bumping into people and elbowing your way through them. When you reached Daryn, his soft expression had turned to a look of confusion.

“Daryn, I have to get back, something’s wrong.” You shook your head, trying to settle your hands as Daryn quickly got up from his seat and threw a few bills down next to your untouched drinks. Without making sure he was following, you raced back to the front doors, beelining to his car. When the both of your reached it, you strapped yourself in and he drove off, leaving dust in the rearview. The drive back to the motel felt like it took hours. When you pulled up to the strip, you noticed the Impala still sitting outside and your feet were on the ground before the car was in park. Your heartbeat thumped in your ears, your eyes scanning the surroundings. You noticed your motel room light was on. You turned to Daryn.

“Listen, I really appreciate you taking me out tonight and I-I’m sorry it had to be cut short, but I need to make sure everythings alright.” You rushed through your words while you managed to throw him a smile over your shoulder.

“Y/N, I can stay and make sure- '' He bega, but the thought of what unnatural force could be inflicting pain onto Dean was enough to make you cut his speech off short.

“No, no, I got it under control - I can call you, you still have the same number?” You spoke fast, trying to politely get to your motel room as quickly as possible. Daryn looked at a loss for words. To see him scrambling to try to spend another minute with you made your chest heavy with guilt, but this was Dean at stake. You turned before he could answer and opened the door so quick, you almost hit the wall behind it yourself. You were in fight mode, ready to rip apart whatever was wreaking havoc, ready to patch up Dean if he needed it, a million thoughts going through your head. Taking in the scene in front of you, the breath you had in your lungs slipped from your lips.

The room was dimly lit by dozens of small candles of all different colors and heights. On the table next to you was the beautiful bouquet from Daryn and a simple rose sitting next to it. Dean sat on the edge of the bed, nervously rubbing his hands down his thighs. Your hand fell to your chest as you took a deep breath in.

“Dean,” Your eyes filled with tears that you begged not to slip down your face, “You scared the shit outta me.” You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. Dean looked down at his hands.

“I-I know, I didn’t know how else to get you to come back,” He said, his voice low. You couldn’t believe the sight before you and you stood still, taking it all in. “Y/N, I should’ve done this a long time ago, but seeing you with Daryn” He said, shaking his head as he looked up at you, “ I couldn’t take it, watching you leave with him.” He stood up and crossed the small room to you, his hands picking up yours and rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand. “I don’t have the fast car and the big bouquet and all that crap - but the way I feel about you,” He struggled to find the words and you knew that all of the effort he’d already put into this gesture was big for him, “What I can offer you is to always be there for you, to always stitch you up, to make sure you’re not alone when you wake up in the mornings - We don’t have to do this stuff alone Y/N and we’re crazy for thinking we had to.” He shook his head and his warm hand cupped your cheek. “I wanna do this with you, I mean it.” He finished, his eyes anxiously looking into yours, waiting for your response. Even in this lighting, his eyes were bright and lively, his nose peppered with the freckles you’ve loved since you noticed them the day you met him. Bringing your hand up to his other cheek, you pulled him in, your lips colliding together as if it were the first time. His other hand found its way to the side of your head and his fingers tangled in your hair as he pulled you in, passion filling your every movement. You pulled away, a few tears making their way down your flush cheeks.

“I would love to Dean,” You leaned forward and pressed your forehead against his, “I’ve been in love with you since I laid eyes on you.” You smiled, your heart beating loudly at the confessions the two of you were sharing. He leaned back and pressed a kiss onto your forehead.

“God, me too sweetheart.” He mumbled into the kiss, before pulling away and taking in every inch of your face before letting go of your hands and moving to the bed. Out of a small plastic bag, he pulled out a few styrofoam containers. “Got you your favorite,” He spoke as he opened the containers, spreading them around the bed. Two burgers sat in their separate containers with fries, and a few slices of pie in the other. You walked over and sat on the bed with him as he laid the food out and sat next to you.

“Mhhh, bacon cheeseburger.” You took a deep breath in, the aroma of the greasy food filling the room. He rubbed your back, smiling.

“Extra bacon, the usual.” He laughed, still looking at you. You turned to him and kissed him once more, the feeling of his lips against yours making your heart drop to your toes. When you pulled away, his eyes were still shut, savoring every kiss the two of you shared.

“I am so in love with you, I hope you know.” You whispered, still close to his face. He blinked slow and a lazy grin crossed his features.

“I know.” He replied, his sarcasm causing you to throw your head back and let out a laugh.

“Good, I’m glad.” You replied, smacking his shoulder. He took a deep breath and looked at the candles around you.

“Now can I blow these out? It’s starting to smell like a friggin’ hallmark movie in here it’s nauseating.” He grumbled, your laugh filling the room as you shook your head at him.You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing as he went around to each of the candles and huffed them out.

You put on the tv and played the first movie that popped up and thought about all of the choices you’ve made in your life that got you to this exact moment. Life with the Winchester boys isn't for everyone. The life you lived was fast and dangerous, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. With Dean’s arms around you, shitty take out food in front of you and a whole life to share with him ahead, you found yourself filled with the sort of peace you didn’t think you’d ever get your hands on.

----

Hope you guys liked it! My requests are always open!

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hortensemitchell · 3 years ago

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Into the Woods: Chapter Two

After Big Time Rush, their lives seemed to only get more hectic. So on the rare chance their schedules lined up, they had to make the most of it with an epic camping trip for the ages.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Kendall Knight/Carlos Garcia/Logan Mitchell/James Diamond

Words: 2295

Logan has been pacing back and forth by the door for the past ten minutes, and looking at him was starting to make Kendall feel tired. He’d make it to one side of the room, check his watch and immediately trek to the other side. “We’re supposed to be on the road already.” Logan made his way over to where Kendall was laying across the living room sofa. “I gave them a laminated schedule and everything.”

“You sent Carlos and James upstairs with James clad only in a towel and you think they’re up there packing?”

Logan gaped for a moment, his eyes instantly flickering to the stairs. “They wouldn’t.”

“I think we both know they would.” Kendall replied, trying to bite back a laugh. He couldn’t care less about a schedule, he’d always been more of a go with the flow type of guy. But he had seen the hard work that Logan had put into his planning for their trip, and he wasn’t about to hurt his feelings. “I could go check on them if you want?”

Logan just shook his head, and turned on his heels heading directly up the stairs. From his spot on the couch, Kendall could hear the bedroom door open upstairs and Logan’s exasperated sigh of “Really guys?”

Several minutes later, Kendall heard the telltale sound of footsteps coming down the staircase and the sound of luggage being drug behind them. Kendall finally sat up from his spot on the couch, loading his bags on his shoulders to bring to the car.

Logan came down the stairs first, with Carlos not far behind. Logan was quickly shuffling around in the other’s bag, most likely checking to make sure he brought more essentials than his game system and snacks.

James came down the stairs last with a slight pout on his face, no doubt caused by Logan’s interruption. He made a beeline to stand beside Kendall at the foot of the stairs and whispered into Kendall’s ear, “He’s such a cockblock when he’s on a schedule.”

“You guys do this every time, you think you’d have learned your lesson by now.”, Kendall replied with a laugh. He looked over at his taller boyfriend before something caught his eye. “By the way, you have a little something right there.” He said as he gestured to the developing mark right under James' jaw.

James’ hand immediately flew up to touch the spot before he threw a teasing smile in Kendall’s direction. “Jealous?”

“Nah, there will be plenty of time for that later.” He readjusted the straps of his luggage on his shoulder. “But if we don’t get out this door, I think Logan will murder us before we get the chance.” With that he linked his fingers with James and finally headed out the door, ready to get this vacation under way.

For once the California sun wasn’t quite as overbearing, which Kendall was thankful for. A nice breeze broke through the normally dry heat and the cloud coverage was mild. It was almost like the entire state knew they were on vacation.

In the passenger seat beside Kendall, James typed away on his laptop, no doubt answering some last minute emails to his agent. Having been in the entertainment industry together, the other men fully understood the sheer amount of obligations James was under.

In the back, Logan and Carlos were sitting together, the rest of their luggage piled on the seat behind Kendall. The two of them looked through a pamphlet of the campground they had chosen, quietly discussing where the best place to set up would be.

Kendall reached over, turning on the radio of the car, making sure to turn the volume down to not disturb James. The sound of an obnoxious car salesman flooded the car, and Kendall rolled his eyes. When he was a kid, he actually could hear music on the radio, but now all he heard were commercials. He would have said those thoughts out loud if he didn’t think it’d make him sound like an old man.

His thoughts were cut short when the radio announcer came back on air. “Welcome back, you’re listening to WYMZ, the station for all your favorite throwback hits. Coming up next, we have Big Time Rush’s hit, “Boyfriend.” The starting beats of one of their first songs filled the car, and all four men looked toward the stereo.

No one said anything, the car silent except for the voices of their younger selves in the stereo. Until Logan started to laugh. “Throwback? Has it really been that long?”

“Pretty soon, we’ll be on the Golden Oldies channel, right next to Taylor Swift and Beyoncé.” Carlos added.

James finally closed his laptop and turned around to face the men in the backseat. “Speak for yourself old-timer, I happen to be in my prime.”

Logan leaned forward in his seat, playfully shoving at James’ shoulder, “Yeah yeah, we know. Aren’t you at week eight topping the Billboard Hot 100 chart?”

“Just hit nine weeks actually. My agent Nigel says this is a good sign for the album drop in October. Soon you won’t be able to turn on the radio, without hearing my angelic voice.”

When the conversation first came up about everyone taking a hiatus from Big Time Rush, James had been reluctant for the change. It had always been his dream to be on stage performing, but he’d grown to love the safety net of having Kendall, Carlos and Logan with him.

He had always planned to have a solo career at some point, but when that moment finally arrived he felt nervous. Anxious that no one would like him on his own, and that his boyfriends would see him as a failure.

None of them had ever doubted his ability to shine without them though. There wasn’t anything like seeing him step out on stage and sing his heart out. It was simply what he was born to do. And thankfully it seemed the world could see that too.

Kendall leaned over, placing his hand on James' knee squeezing gently .“I’m proud of you, but didn’t we say no work talk on our vacation?”

The car filled with murmurs of agreement at Kendall’s careful reminder. It seemed like such a simple rule, but it could be so hard to follow sometimes.

After Big Time Rush officially ended the boys imagined that they would finally get a chance to relax. For four years they had been going from dance practice, to the recording booth, to concerts, and interviews. While they were all thankful for the chance of a lifetime, it really took a toll on them.

Logan was the first one to bow out of their quiet free time after just four days. He’d applied to several colleges in the surrounding LA area, anxious to get a jump on his studies. When Kendall thought about those days, he wondered how Logan had even made it out alive.

He would take 18 credit hour semesters, a decision he made to make up for the two years he claimed he was behind. And while that alone seemed like a lot to the other guys, the classes weren’t exactly easy either.

While none of them could keep up with the concepts that Logan had been learning, they all tried to help out where they could. Kendall was usually elbows deep in flashcards filled with medical terms that he still couldn’t explain to this day. And James would try his best to stay up with Logan as he studied late into the night, rubbing the stress from his shoulders and making him take breaks.

The late nights and early mornings were worth it though, that much Kendall knew. One of his favorite photos of Logan was taken on the first day of his residency at a local hospital. His smile shined just as brightly as his new lab coat, and Kendall had never seen such genuine happiness etched on his features before.

Logan had pretty much always known what his dreams were, Carlos on the other hand had chosen to get out into the world and explore. Letting his future come to him.

During those early years, he had held a variety of jobs, and he took to them with such exuberance and focus that it was always hard to picture him doing anything else. When he started working at a bakery, it was like he was born to do that. And when he took up a job at a local daycare, Kendall wondered why he hadn’t been doing that his whole life.

Carlos was simply the kind of man who thrived in any situation. But it became clear to everyone when he found exactly where he was meant to be.

Growing up when asked about his future, Carlos always said he wanted to be a superhero because he wanted to save people. And while he had long since put away his ‘El Hombre Del Flaming Space Rock Man’ costume, the urge to protect was still inside of him.

When he finally applied for the police academy, it was like it all had made sense. Following in the footsteps of the greatest man he had ever met, his father, Carlos understood how his boyfriends had felt everyday as they put all their hard work in.

It truly was something special, being able to see all of them achieve their dreams everyday. Kendall didn’t know what force of the universe he had to thank, but something somewhere was looking out for them.

While they all loved where their futures had brought them, that didn’t mean there weren't some sacrifices to be made.

From the very first time he had a hockey stick placed in his hands, Kendall knew he was going to be a center for the Minnesota Wilds. And to this day, he still couldn’t wrap his brain around the fact that he achieved his goal.

However, the sobering reality of just how demanding his career was always hit when hockey season began.

Being gone from your loved ones for months at a time was difficult, especially for Kendall who had gotten so used to seeing his boyfriends every single day. They all tried their best to make it easier, video chatting often, and flying out to see each other when the opportunity presented itself. That didn’t make up for the feeling that something was missing every night when they went to bed though.

The four of them had gotten pretty good at saying goodbye with how often Kendall and James had to be on the road. And when they finally had time to spend together, it was important to make it count. That’s why this trip meant so much to Kendall. He was looking forward to spending the weekend with the three men who were the world to him. Completely uninterrupted, they could be together just like they had as kids, when they would trek out into the Minnesota wilderness with Papi Garcia.

Kendall felt a warm palm cover the hand he still had absentmindedly rested on James’ knee and was pulled from his thoughts. He glanced away from the road to see the other man looking at him fondly. “We’ll be there pretty soon, you excited?”

James leaned into Kendall’s ear voice barely above a whisper. “Absolutely, don’t tell Logan but I’m totally gonna push him into the lake first chance I get.”

“Dude you’re like a foot away from us, we can hear everything.” Carlos piped up from the back. “Besides, if anyone is throwing him into the lake it’s gonna be me.”

Logan looked frantically between Carlos and the front of the car, meeting Kendall’s gaze in the rearview mirror hoping for some backup. “I personally like the plan where I don’t get thrown in the lake.” Kendall fought back a smile, as he listened to Logan plead his case and his other boyfriends tease about their future plans. Up ahead he saw the worn sign for the campgrounds and pulled in already feeling much more at ease.

As he got out of the car, Kendall had to shake feeling back into his achy limbs, as he fished his supplies out of the dogpile in the trunk. The sheer amount of bags they had managed to shove into the tiny vehicle was actually impressive. However, now reality had sunk into him that they would have to carry everything to the designated camping spot.

Once they were finally loaded up with their belongings, Logan stood at the front, his nose buried in the map to lead them to their destination. James was not far behind him, carrying not only his own bags, but most of Logan’s as well. He didn’t seem to mind too much though as he hummed a soft tune that Kendall couldn’t place.

Kendall took up the back and Carlos bounded up beside him and offered his hand for Kendall to take. It took him a couple of moments to rearrange all of the bags he had been carrying, but it was worth it for the smile that came across Carlos’ face as he intertwined their fingers.

They fell into a comfortable silence, enjoying the sounds of the wind rustling the leaves and the birds chirping in the trees. It felt like the calm before the storm, and Kendall knew the moment they arrived, things were going to get chaotic, it was just in their nature.

But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited to see what the weekend had in store. After all, he had to see which of his boyfriends would get to push Logan into the lake first. Little did they know, Kendall would probably get to it first.

#my writing #Big Time Rush #Kendall Knight #Logan Mitchell #James Diamond #Carlos Garcia #ot4

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let-it-raines · 6 years ago

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Betting on the Bullseye (16/?)

Summary: Emma Swan loses a bet that means she has to ask her celebrity crush to be her date to her office’s annual fundraising gala. Killian Jones is that celebrity crush. She expects all kinds of humiliation and for her dignity to be completely lost. What she doesn’t expect is for him to say yes.

Rating: Mature

A/N: I didn’t have to edit, Nonnie, so sometime this weekend turns out to be Friday night! Happy weekend, you guys!

AO3: Beginning | Current

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Over the course of June, Killian’s sure that he flies between Los Angeles and Boston more times than any other passenger. He’s not really working consistently while Emma is, so he’s constantly loading up on a plane, racking up miles every time just to spend a day or two in Boston before he’s flying back for a meeting or a pre-made appointment. Sometimes he has to simply show up an event, let people see him wearing clothes, and then he can leave. He thinks those are his least favorite, but as much as acting is his job, that is too.

Sometimes he really wonders about his life. It’s definitely not normal. He knows that, but he’s honestly used to it. He was comfortable with it, but that was before he fell in love with a woman who lives three thousand miles away.

(Two thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine miles to be exact. He looked it up.)

Honestly, though, he’d spend his life on a plane just to be with her. Will calls him sappy (a sappy wanker actually), and while he might be, he doesn’t really care. It’s definitely worth it.

Emma is worth it.

Damn, okay, maybe he is sappy.

Of course, with his frequent flying and the few posts he’s made about Emma online, never showing her face or saying her name, the amount of pictures of him on the internet has increased drastically. With that, journalists and paparazzi have begun to investigate where he’s going, often finding him in Boston with Emma when they’re out to eat or running outside. Last week they went to the Red Sox game when they were playing the Yankees, bringing her friends with them, and he couldn’t even begin to count the amount of people that were waiting outside of the stadium when he left. What could possibly be so interesting about him walking out of a baseball game he’ll never know.

According to Robin, they’ve recognized Emma from their first date at the charity gala, and with every new picture that’s taken, there’s some other bogus article about them, the information supposedly coming from their close friends. Considering that everything about it is bullshit and that none of their friends would ever talk to a journalist, he’s not too concerned about it all. Really, everything is gossip, just articles that are made for clicks, and the only concerns he truly has about all of it is Emma and her well-being.

She seems to be fine, says that she’s fine, and is always telling him that she understood what she was getting into to a certain extent. It hasn’t been as bad as it once had been in the past, his lack of released projects likely helping with that, and he’s never been so thankful for not having worked as much as he usually does. She did say there were some photographers outside of her apartment last week, which isn’t a shock since they managed to find it the night of their first date, but that it hadn’t been enough to make her uncomfortable.

He, however, is entirely uncomfortable with anyone trailing after Emma and her home. He’s the one who chose this profession and everything that comes with it, and while he doesn’t like it, he should be the one to have to take all of the displeasure and annoyances that come with it, not his girlfriend when she’s simply trying to go throughout her life like she always has.

Emma’s flying out to him tomorrow, though, claiming that she wants to spend some time at the beach for the weekend. She took Friday off, has been working her arse off all week to make up for it too, and he’s excited to see her while also being able to spend time in his own home. He’s not saying his bed is more comfortable than Emma’s, but his bed is definitely more comfortable than Emma’s.

She admits to it as well.

His bed is bloody comfortable.

“You have issues, man,” Will whistles, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge and settling down on a stool while Killian continues to wash their plates from lunch.

“What issues do I have?”

“You’ve been in here scrubbing three plates for over fifteen minutes. And you’re just going to put them in the washer too. I don’t see the point.”

Killian shrugs, rinsing his plate off one more time before drying it with a towel. “It’s a force of habit. Didn’t have a dishwasher growing up and had to do things by hand. I’ve never quite gotten out of the habit. Also, you’re not supposed to insult the hands that feed you.”

“Before you eat, mate. It’s after. You can’t spit in my food now.” “I’ll save it for next time. What time do you have to be down at the bar?”

“Seven. I’m working until closing, which always sucks on Wednesdays. Who the hell stays out until closing on Wednesdays?”

“People who need something to drink about or who don’t have normal jobs. Or kids. So, really, most people in this city.”

“True,” Will sighs, taking another sip of his water. “I’m still waiting for you to give me a fancy job like Rob where I can finally work semi-normal hours.” “I told you. Come up with something you can do, and I’ll let you do it. Though you do serve a mean drink.” He opens up the dishwasher and puts the plates inside, checking to see how much longer until he can run the thing. “Is the match still going on?”

“Yeah, it’s in the beginnings of the fifth set. I think Rob is going to pull his hair out. But not for him. Rol has apparently been freaking out for the whole tournament. Tennis is his new thing, says Messi and Ronaldo are old news.” “Ah, to be young and switch interests so quickly.”

“Bloody hell,” Robin groans from the living room, loud enough for them to hear in the kitchen. “Why would you do that? You should have gone down the line instead of cross court.”

“Do we need to go save him before he rips all of his hair out and breaks your TV?”

“I don’t care about his hair, but I do care about my TV.”

“I can hear you,” Robin yells, the displeasure in his voice obvious. “You try having a son who’s freaking out about this match while he’s supposed to be learning how to use correct grammar at school.”

“I’ll get to working on that,” Will jokes, sliding back in his stool while Killian grabs himself a water bottle as well. “Though I don’t really think a lass will want to have a kid with me just so I can yell at the TV. I think that’s the opposite of what they want.”

“Just shut up and come watch the match,” Robin groans, and Killian shakes his head back and forth while laughter rumbles through his stomach.

“You two are ridiculous.”

-/-

Emma: I just boarded the plane. See you soon! Is there a way you can make the rain forecast go away?

Kilian: Let me just use my magical powers, and I’ll do that for you.

Emma: You’re da bomb diggity.

Emma: Pretend I didn’t type that.

Killian: Never. Be safe, love.

Emma: I shall not wear my seatbelt and will walk around during turbulence.

Killian: The definition of safety.

He goes back to lounging on his couch and flipping through channels on the TV. It’s been a long time since he was this bored, and he’s contemplating asking Elsa to bring Aiden over to the house just so that he has someone to talk to. Of course, he’s thinking about having a baby for his conversational partner, so he’s not sure how good of an idea that is.

Elsa would be here too, but he honestly wasn’t thinking about having her to talk to. He may be a horrible brother-in-law. And friend. So both. He’s terrible with both.

He’ll have to go see them sometime next week. He’s saw Liam when they went to dinner Monday night, but Elsa had been going to spend time with her friends. Maybe Emma will want to go over there this weekend, or they can come here and spend the day at the beach with them.

If he makes the rain go away. He’s supposed to be doing that.

He really might be bored enough to be delusional.

Sighing, he keeps flipping through the channels and leaves it on Friends, knowing if anything that can just play in the background while he fiddles around on his phone. He might need to pick up a new hobby other than reading and exercising. And he’s pretty sure that exercising is technically part of his job.

Does he really only have one hobby? Well, taking his boat out must count. So that’s two.

He’s got to work on this apparently.

Slowly but surely the hours pass as he alternates between watching TV and wandering around his house, cleaning up and straightening anything that’s out of place. If he wasn’t always traveling, he’d get a dog to keep him company, and he definitely spent at least two hours looking at different breeds just now.

He wants them all.

His phone buzzes to tell him there’s someone at the gate, and when he checks the video feed, it’s Emma punching in the code and walking through with her weekend bag slung over her shoulder. He immediately gets up from the couch and walks to his front door, swinging it open and running outside to catch Emma before she bothers going through the garage.

“Oh hey,” she begins when she sees him twisting her body at the sound of the door opening. “Were you watching the cameras because – ”

He doesn’t let her finish, grabbing onto her waist and pulling her to him with his lips, effectively quieting her words while she gasps into her mouth. It’s only been a week, but he’s been anxiously awaiting her being here for the entire time. Missing her isn’t getting any easier. If anything, he thinks it’s getting a bit harder. She tastes like coffee and minty gum, a combination that’s not great, but he doesn’t really care with the way she’s sliding her lips over his and threading her fingers into his hair, her nails scratching at the sensitive spots on his scalp. God, he loves her a ridiculous amount, and he’ll never not be thankful that she allows him to be a part of her life.

“Were you watching the cameras?” she sighs breathlessly when she pulls back, resting her forehead against his, her skin ridiculously warm while a breeze blows past them, the impending storm picking up. “Because I can’t decide if that’s sweet or creepy.”

“Just be quiet, Swan,” he laughs, gliding his lips over hers again and sucking on her upper lip. He quite likes the little noise she makes when he does it, and he’d like to hear it as often as possible. “And I wasn’t watching. My phone sends me a message whenever there’s someone at the gate.” “Fancy.” “I try to be. You want to come inside?” “Why, Mr. Jones,” she begins in an exaggerated accent, “you have to buy me dinner first before I come inside. I am a lady. I can’t just go home with any man.”

“Did you watch a period piece on the plane?” “Absolutely I did.” “That’s what I thought.”

The moment they get inside and have the door closed, Emma drops her bag to the ground and wraps her arms around his neck while he backs her up to the front door, rolling his hips against hers while his mouth moves over hers with more force and more intensity than it did outside. This is how most of their reunions go, hurriedly greeting each other and making up for all of the lost time that they’ve missed while apart. She’s bloody intoxicating in the way the she feels against him, the way that her tongue feels as it dances with his, and with the way that her hands move along his shoulders and up and down his sides, snaking up under his shirt at the same time this his hands find the warm skin of her stomach.

“I smell like airport.” “You know I don’t care. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she sighs before gasping as his lips trace along her jaw, nipping slightly and soothing every bite with his tongue. He doesn’t want to leave a mark, won’t leave one, but she likes when he teases her. He likes it too.

“That seemed like the longest flight of all time.” “You weren’t…ah fuck, you weren’t even on it.”

“I was waiting for you.” “Again, it sounds creepy without context.”

He chuckles against her ear before kissing the lobe all the while his thumbs ghost over her nipples through her bra. He can feel the lace underneath his touch, and it sends a shiver down his spine. She’s not usually one for pretty little underwear, so he’s not going to complain when he’s gifted with this.

“You talk far too much when I’m supposed to be taking your breath away.” “Do a better job,” she teases him, resting her forehead against his shoulder while she maneuvers herself to wrap her legs around his waist, grinding her core into his so that they both groan. “You can take me upstairs now.” “Not feeling like walking?” “Not at all.”

He walks her down the hallway and to the stairs all the while her lips trail across his jaw and down his neck, the pressure at the base of his spine continuously building and building and building to the point where it’s almost painful not to be inside of her right now.

“Oh my God, KJ,” she gasps when he stops to readjust her in his arms on the middle landing, “don’t you dare drop me.”

“I’m not going to, love. That’s why I’m adjusting you. This isn’t as easy as you’d think when my entire body is thrumming with frustration.”

“Thrumming?” “It’s a word.”

“Yeah, but it’s kind of weird word when you think about it. I mean – ”

“Emma, my love,” he interrupts continuing to take the steps upstairs since he’s now confident he won’t drop her, “I will absolutely sit with you and talk about language in about twenty minutes, but I need you to not think about the origins of the word thrumming right now.”

“Oh you think you’re going to last that long when you’re thrumming with desire?”

He drops Emma on the bed the moment he’s close enough to it, letting her bounce just because she’s being a smart arse, but she doesn’t seem at all deterred by that. “You are driving me mad.” “I know, I know,” she squeals as he peppers kisses across her face while undoing his zipper. “I just feel like humming would be a better choice there and – ”

He cuts her off with a kiss. It’s all he can do when she’s in a playful mood like this and wants to have an absolutely ridiculous conversation with him when he really does feel as if he may burst from frustration, desire, or whatever the hell Emma wants to call it. Honestly, he loves her, but he missed her like mad and needs this right now. And Emma’s very obviously not protesting with the way she whimpers into his mouth.

Despite their brief interlude, it’s a rush of clothing being removed and bodies melding into each other just as their lips have been. She feels fucking fantastic wrapped around him as she moves up and down above him, and he has to briefly close his eyes with the pleasure of it all. They’ve truly gotten into a groove as of late, finally having time to learn more about each other’s bodies and pleasures as they spend more time together, and he can absolutely feel all of the proof of that right now.

It’s honestly like heaven.

Emma falls apart before he does despite how keyed up he’s been, but he doesn’t last long after her, not with the way she feels pulsing (thrumming) around him and the way she whispers his name over and over again into his ear while her nails dig into his shoulders. It was quick and a bit messy, maybe even a little harsh, but as they both rest against each other while catching their breaths, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Hold on, darling,” he whispers, moving her off of him while he walks into the bathroom on still shaky legs to clean himself up and get a wash cloth for Emma. He gently cleans her up before pulling on his boxers and tossing the cloth in the laundry bin as he settles back into bed where Emma is still stretched out. “You not going to move, Swan?”

“In a minute,” she yawns, slowly sitting up and propping herself up on her elbows. “The jet lag is hitting me right now. Like, hard. I think I was run over by the plane at some point.” “Why don’t you go to sleep?” “I’m trying,” she yawns again, slowly getting up from the bed and stretching her limbs out the slightest bit. “Will you be, like, the best man in the entire world and go get my bag from downstairs? I’m just going to wear your pajamas, but I need my toothbrush.”

“I bought you one to keep here when I went shopping the other day. And I stocked up on some more of your shampoo.”

“Is it the – ”

“Yep, it’s the electronic kind that you and your special teeth like.”

“Bless you,” she sighs, coming over to him and cupping her cheeks before slanting her lips over his while his hands rest at her hips. “I love you, and I know I’m, like, deliriously tired, but that is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.” “Yeah, we’re definitely going to have to work on that then.” He gently slaps her arse while their lips are still ghosting over each other. “Go get dressed and try out that toothbrush, Swan.”

“I most definitely will.”

-/-

He’s standing in his kitchen drinking his mug of coffee the next morning when Emma stumbles down the stairs with all of the grace she usually possesses as she walks over his pajama pants that are far too long on her. Usually she rolls them up, but she must have just decided to take the risk of tripping and walked down the stairs like that. Honestly, he’s not even really sure if she’s actually fully awake right now with how sleep rumpled she is.

“G’morning, love.” “Morning,” she gruffs, walking toward him and taking his coffee out of his hands only to take a sip and scrunch up her face. “This is disgusting.” “That’s because it’s made for me and not for you. You don’t like black coffee. I do.”

“You’re weird,” she moans, resting her head against his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist after putting the mug down. She must be exhausted, all of her sleep making her groggier than usual, and he lets her rest there, rubbing his hand up and down her back while her hair gets caught in his mouth. Her hair is really something else. “I’m tired.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell.” She weakly hits his back before pulling away from him. “Sorry for taking your coffee. I’m going to make an actual, drinkable cup now, and you can keep your nasty one to yourself.”

“Sounds like a plan, Stan.”

“Ha,” Emma laughs, her eyes lighting up, “I knew that I’d get you to say it!”

“Aye, Swan, you’ve bested me with your odd little sayings.”

“Yes, exactly.” She pokes him in the stomach before moving around him and preparing her own cup. “I said bloody hell the other day, so we obviously both have problems.”

It’s nice to have a slow, quiet morning with Emma. There’s no impending plane ride tomorrow, no immediate rush to do everything they absolutely can in twenty-four hours, so they sit in his living room, drinking their coffee and eating the bagels he had delivered this morning. Usually he’d cook something, but he wasn’t feeling like it this morning, figuring he could just order in while Emma was sleeping upstairs.

He really likes having her here, and while he knows it’s far too soon to even suggest it, he wishes it could be a permanent thing. He keeps thinking about it, though, thinking about the fact that Emma could have more than just her toothbrush here.

She’s laughing at the beginning of the Hangover, something he’d like to get to experience more often, and while he wonders why that movie is playing before noon on a Friday, he’s not going to question it when he can already feel his stomach rumbling with laughter as well. Suddenly Emma’s phone starts ringing, the vibrations causing it to move across the coffee table, and she leans forward to pick it up. “Hello?” she answers, adjusting her legs and tucking them underneath her. “Oh hey, Rubes. Rubes? Hey, Ruby?” she soothes, her voice calm yet firm, and he immediately mutes the television so Emma can hear. “Ruby, you have to stop cursing and tell me what’s wrong. Are you okay? Is Marg okay?”

She looks over at him with fear in her eyes, the green brighter than usual, but he can see them relax while Ruby tells her whatever she tells her. He can’t hear, the sounds muffled, but if Emma wanted him to, she’d put in on speaker.

“Oh, Rubes,” Emma sighs, getting up from the couch and pacing the room, “I’m so sorry. Do you want to talk about what happened?”

He has absolutely no idea what’s happening, what’s wrong with Ruby, but he watches Emma move back and forth in front of his television, running her hand through her hair multiple times all the while biting her lip. She doesn’t look upset, not truly, but she’s definitely not happy. The fact that she’s not crying soothes him in the fact that he doesn’t think someone has died or been in an accident.

He wants to know because he’s curious, but he also wants to know because he wants everyone to be okay. He’s really come to care about Emma’s friends.

“I’m going to be home Sunday night. I promise. I’ll come over to your place, or you can come over to mine. It doesn’t matter, but why don’t you go spend some time with Marg? I know you probably want to be alone, but Marg really does help. And I know for a fact that she’s got a bunch of good junk food in her freezer. I love you, Rubes.”

Ruby obviously says a few more things, Emma nodding her head to all of them, before she’s hanging up her phone, placing in on the coffee table, and then coming to straddle his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.

He rubs his hand up and down her back in what he hopes are calming circles. “What’s wrong, Swan? You okay?”

“Fine,” she mumbles into his skin before pulling back and settling back on his thighs. He gently take her hand in his, bringing her wrist to his lips and kissing the skin there several times. “I mean, I feel really shitty for being here because Ruby and Victor broke up and I’m not there to comfort her. She took the day off of work and everything, and Ruby is not one for moping. But she’s moping. I think we really all hoped it was going to work out for them this time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“You’re not home because you’re here with me. I’m sorry for Ruby, and I’m sorry you can’t be there with her.”

“It’s okay,” she sighs, and he can tell that she only partially means it. “Marg is much more comforting, and then by the time Ruby’s ready to bash Victor, I’ll be there with all of the things that bothered me about him but that I never voiced.”

“Is the hair number one on that list?”

“Stop,” she groans, scrunching up her face and slapping his shoulder. “That’s awful.” “I mean, that is probably pretty tame compared to what’s going on in your mind right now.”

“True.” Emma dips her head and slants her lips over his. She tastes like her coffee, the vanilla creamer obvious, and he can’t say he minds, not when the taste is on her lips and not in his coffee. It’s much better than the mint and coffee of last night. “I love you.”

He reaches up and tucks her hair behind her ears, the strands continuously falling, before looking up at her through his lashes while his thumb traces over her cheek, over the freckles that reside there. “I love you, too. Do you want to go out to the beach to get your mind off of things?” “I’d like that.”

The temperature continues to rise throughout the day, but with the way the sky is overcast, the heat isn’t overwhelming. If anything, it almost makes it cool despite being over eighty degrees. And as the dark clouds move in, thunder rumbling in the air, he only gets a few minutes to appreciate Emma in the scrap of fabric she has on before they’re rushing inside already soaked to the bone with how quickly the rain fell.

He thought maybe the storm wouldn’t come after it didn’t break last night, but he was apparently wrong about that.

After they’ve both quickly rinsed the sand off in the shower and changed into warmer clothes, they settle down in his room, Emma pulling the comforter practically up to her chin while he flips through the channels trying to find something to watch. Emma teases him when they pass one of his movies, practically begging to watch, but he refuses and settles on one of the Oceans movies just to have something playing. Friday afternoon is obviously not prime time for movie replays.

Obviously Fridays are just bad for television overall.

Emma’s been herself all day, but he can tell that not being at home with Ruby is definitely bothering her. She’ll get quiet every now and then, her gaze trailing away, and she’s got her phone by her side constantly when she usually leaves it alone for a little while, not always having to be on it. He wishes he could help, had offered to pay for her ticket so she could go home early, but she insisted that it was fine, that it really will be better for her to stay. Still, he can tell that she wishes she was at home, especially when she walks out of the room to talk to Mary Margaret for at least an hour.

“We should do something with your family tomorrow,” she tells him. “Or Will and Robin. I don’t know. As much as I love sitting inside with you with it pouring down rain outside, we probably should leave this house at some point. Or maybe have people come to us.” He wraps his arm around her shoulder, tugging her closer and kissing her temple. “Elsa did say she wanted to do something with you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“How?”

He can feel her shrug under his arm. “We text.” “Really now?”

“Hey, don’t be so surprised. I like her. Also, I know that you and Marg talk about food all of the time, so it’s really not weird.”

“I never said it was, love.”

“It was implied, KJ.”

-/-

“You’re such a cutie,” Emma coos to Aiden, brushing his hair off of his face while she lays on the floor of Elsa’s house with him so that they can play with all of the toys he has scattered across the ground. Aiden’s taken quite a liking to her, which is good considering his fondness for only liking people he knows. “You remind me so much of Leo.”

Aiden runs one of his trucks over Emma’s stomach, and she doesn’t even care, laying out on the ground and making Aiden giggle with all of her theatrics.

“If anything, I think I’m going to keep you around to entertain my kid,” Elsa laughs, settling down next to him on the couch and handing him the tea she’s been making.

“I mean, I’m being run over by giant trucks right now, so it’s very hard work. I feel like I need a pay raise.” “We’ll negotiate later.” Elsa nudges his shoulder, making him tear his eyes away from where Emma is now tickling Aiden’s stomach, their combined laughter filling the room.

“What?”

“Slow your roll,” Elsa whispers into his ear, squeezing his shoulder.

“What are you on about, lass?”

“You’re thinking about future things,” Elsa continues, and he can feel the blush rising in his face and reaching the tips of his ears. He is thinking about future things, has been all weekend, but watching Emma with Aiden is filling him with more thoughts than it should. One day at a time. They take things one day at a time, maybe a few weeks at a time, but they’re not thinking years ahead. He’s thinking years ahead. “I can see all of the gears turning in your head, see the way you’re making all of these plans.”

“I am not.” “You are.” She rubs her hand up and down his arm while he takes a sip of his tea, letting the warm liquid wash down. “And I’m so happy for you, but you gotta take the baby steps before you take the running leaps.”

He hums, knowing that she’s telling the truth. Honestly, though, even with all of his thoughts about the future, he knows this. He’s not looking to do anything that he’s not ready for. He’s not looking to do anything that Emma’s not ready for.

“Thank you for your all-knowing advice, oh wise one.”

“Shut up,” she groans, slapping his shoulder before pulling back and picking up her tea from the coffee table and drinking it. “Emma, let me know when you’re tired of fooling with him, and I’ll pull Liam out of his office so that the three of us don’t have to have him constantly in our sights.” “Are we talking about Aiden or Killian here?”

Elsa giggles beside him, blinking down into her cup all the while he feels the tips of his ears heat again. “Sweetheart,” he sweetly begins, “I will leave you here and change the gate code at the house if this is how things are going to be.”

“Hmm,” Emma mumbles, pulling Aiden up to stand on her stomach, “I think I’ll just stay here. I feel like Aiden will gladly share his room with me. He’s much cuter than you too.”

“This is so true.”

“Bloody hell,” he grumbles into his cup. “I’ve made a mistake introducing the two of you. This is not nearly as entertaining as when we’re all ganging up on Liam.” “That’s because Liam is much more fun to make fun of,” Elsa laughs, having to wipe the corners of her eyes. “He gets much more flustered than you, which is saying something.”

They stay over at Liam and Elsa’s while the storm rains itself out, coating the city in water that it probably desperately needed, especially with the summer heat taking full effect. It’s nice listening to the steady rhythm of the rain beating against the house, watching it fall down through the floor-to-ceiling windows they have leading out to the backyard, and while he had no intention of staying here all day, it’s exactly what happens. Emma falls asleep in a recliner, a blanket pulled up around her legs and Aiden snuggled into her chest, while he and Elsa watch TV and eat food, catching up on everything they’ve missed while Liam finally leaves his office and joins them.

It’s one of those days where you know it’s good while it’s happening, and even though Emma wanted to spend time out at the beach while she was out here, he doesn’t think that the rain has been a bad thing.

It’s actually been a good one.

Really good.

#betting on the bullseye #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic

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artificialqueens · 8 years ago

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Read My Mind (Trixya) - Candy For Children

A/N: Hey! So this is my first time writing a fic in a few years, but I had this idea and wrote it all tonight in a mad dash! I’m thinking I will probably write more of this at some point soon, because I am pretty happy with how it turned out. I’d love any constructive criticism, Hope you enjoy! Also this is a AHS Coven AU, but I play a little fast and loose with the rules of the universe.

Summary: Trixie is a clairvoyant witch, sent to study at Mrs. Charles’s Academy for Gifted Girls, where she meets another young witch named Katya, and sparks fly (no pun intended).

The train wasn’t like it was in the movies Trixie had seen. In them the train had always been a place for quiet, often solemn, contemplation. Lonely attractive people would watch as the countryside zipped past, and think about their broken hearts, or the difficult choices they had to make, or whatever else they had to think about that could fill up a two minute montage before the resolution of the film.

But unfortunately, the train wasn’t a quiet place for Trixie. It was boomingly loud. Buzzing with the “quiet” contemplation of the other passengers, and though she wished she didn’t Trixie heard every word. According to her mother Trixie was cursed with clairvoyance. That’s what she had said before sending her off to god knows where with nothing but a jam packed duffle bag, and her guitar. She had been taken from her home to the train by the woman who was sitting next to her, Ms. Monsoon. Ms. Monsoon said that Trixie’s abilities were a “gift” which was why she was taking her to Mrs. Charles’s Academy for Gifted Girls. Trixie didn’t buy that for a second.

Should I tell her I’ve been cheating? No Chuck, it’s not cheating if you only kissed. You know Nancy wouldn’t think of it that way.

The thoughts of the pudgy middle aged man sitting on the other side of the train car played through Trixie’s mind, and she shook her head trying to get them to stop. No sooner however after his had stopped did another voice start, this time female and coming from right behind her.

I’ll walk right up to her and say “No Mother, you can’t talk to me that way, I’m an adult now” yes that’s what I’ll do.

Trixie focused all of her energy into stopping the voices, and to her surprise, she succeeded. All was quiet. For about thirty seconds. Then she heard Ms. Monsoon’s voice. For a moment she didn’t realize what was happening, and she looked over to see what the woman was saying to her. That’s when she realized the red haired woman was not talking to her, merely looking at her.

Poor girl… They’re going to eat her alive.

Trixie snapped her head forward and rummaged through her bag. She took out the huge noise cancelling headphones, and plugged them into her phone. An hour later she was asleep, snoring fitfully to the sounds of Dolly Parton’s greatest hits.

“The academy was founded many many years ago, by then Supreme Ms. Rupaul Charles.” Ms. Monsoon smiled and looked at Trixie as they stepped up to the front gate. The school was huge, and white, with big white pillars and a wrap around porch. It was beautiful, but it made Trixie uneasy, like a angel statue at a cemetery.

“Supreme?” Trixie asked, tearing her eyes away from the building.

“The leader of the coven. The most powerful witch alive at any given time. The current supreme lives here at the academy, but I’m afraid she’s in Paris on business at the moment so you won’t get to meet her right away. But you have plenty of people to meet in the meantime!” Ms. Monsoon leaned forward and opened the wrought iron gate, and began to lead Trixie up the brick path that cut through the front yard. After opening the front door she turned, smiling warmly at her, and ushered her through the entryway to a grand curving staircase that appeared to be set at the heart of the building. “Up the stairs now darling, let’s get you settled in”

At the top of the stairs they were met with two long hallways that forked off, leading away from each other. Ms. Monsoon led them to the left. As Trixie walked past the rows of closed doors, she could hear little snippets of thoughts from within the rooms.

If we have lasagna for dinner again tonight I’m going to fucking scream.

You shouldn’t look at her like that, she’s almost twice your age, what’s wrong with you?

It’s not your fault, It’s not your fault, It’s not your fault.

“Earth to Trixie!”

Trixie was startled out of her, or rather someone else’s, thoughts, by Ms. Monsoon waving her hand in front of her face.

“Sorry, I must have zoned out a little.” Trixie said, forcing a little smile onto her face. They were standing in front of the last door at the end of the hallway.

“That’s quite alright, it happens to the best of us.” Ms. Monsoon replied, and then opened the door, “Most of the girls room in pairs, but due to your unique condition we all agreed it best you room alone. We wouldn’t want to add to any sleeping issues I’m sure you’re already having. There was a young girl with the same gift as you during my time at the Academy. Never slept a wink poor thing.” She smiled, and opened the door for Trixie to walk into the room. “I’ll leave you to get settled in. Dinner is at 7, we’re having lasagna, you won’t want to miss it.” The chipper woman smiled one last time, yanked Trixie into a hug, and then left, clicking the door softly behind her.

Trixie sighed and looked around her at the room. It was fairly sized, but stark and cold, and nothing like the warmth of the familiar cotton candy pink she had back home. Where she was used to clutter and posters, and pictures and stuffed animals, she was met with white, sterile, blank surfaces. The walls were white, the bed clothes were white, the drapes were white, even the floors were stained with a white wash. It reminded Trixie of the padded cells she saw in the shitty B horror movies she used to watch with her friends back home.

She decided however, instead of crying about her lot, she may as well make the best of it. After putting her headphones back on, setting ‘Islands in the Stream’ to repeat, and putting her guitar in a safe corner of the room, she set to work.

An hour later she sat on her bed and surveyed her work. It wasn’t perfect but it would have to do. A pink scarf covered her bedside lamp, basking the room in a warmer glow than before. The few pictures she had brought with her, polaroids of her friends and mom hung above her bed, and a few other scarfs were placed strategically around her room as if they were throw blankets or wall hangings.

For the first time all day she felt herself actually smile. A small smile, but at least this time it was genuine.

Not a second later Trixie was startled out of her thoughts when a girl suddenly appeared right in front of her.

The girl was tall and slender with big lips, sharp eyebrows, and blond hair piled on top of her head in a sort of half beehive. Trixie didn’t notice any of that though, she was too busy screaming. The girl looked on, unimpressed, as Trixie wheezed panicked breaths and looked between the intruder, and the unopened door.

“I was sent to bring you down for dinner… when you’re done screaming…” The girl said in a low droning voice and rolled her eyes slightly.

“I- uh- I, sorry.” Trixie stuttered, managing to calm down ever so slightly “You startled me.”

“It’s alright, I forgot you’re new. you aren’t really used to us yet huh?” She smiled, then turned and walked to the door, pulling it open and standing in the doorway. “We really should get to dinner. We don’t want to be late or there won’t be anything left.” And with that she turned and started walking.

Trixie stared after her for a second, before getting a hold of herself and rushing after her. “What you did back there, what was it? You just sort of appeared?”

“Transmutation. The ability to jump from place to place in the blink of an eye.”

“Is that something… all of us can do?” Trixie asked, excited at the prospect of learning to teleport.

“No.” Alaska said, then at Trixie’s disappointed look added “A few of the other girls have it too, so who knows about you. But I’m the only one with the power of Divination.” She smiled proudly and started walking down the stairs.

“Like in Harry Potter?”

The girl stopped and looked at Trixie as if she had just slapped a baby, “No. Not like Harry Potter.” She started walking again, “You’ve got a lot to learn Barbie.”

“Trixie.”

“What?”

“My name is Trixie.”

“Oh, well nice to meet you Trixie, I’m Alaska.”

“That’s an interesting name.”

“Yeah, my parents fucked in a Wendy’s bathroom in Wasilla, and 9 months later I popped out. So my mom thought Alaska was the perfect name. Cause Jenny or whatever would be too easy to explain.”

“I like Alaska, it suits you.”

“Yeah, I like it too.” The girl smiled and then stopped in front of a set of large oak doors. From the other side Trixie could hear the clamor of many different conversations. “You ready?”

Trixie’s eyes darted from the doors to Alaska and then back again. “Yes?”

Alaska nodded her head, “don’t worry you’ve got this.” she said and then pushed the big doors open.

The dining room was beautiful. All reds and browns, lit up by candles and a extravagant chandelier that hung above a large mahogany table at the center of the room. Trixie glanced around the room and counted 8 girls and 4 women sitting at the table, with three empty seats scattered about, two of which Trixie assumed were for her and Alaska.

Alaska pointed at an empty chair between a girl with sleek grey hair and Ms. Monsoon, she then went and sat at her own seat between a gorgeous blond and a girl with ink black hair who was glaring down at her food. Trixie didn’t particularly want to sit next to Ms. Monsoon. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the woman, she was perfectly lovely, and the type of person she would normally love to spend time with, but she kept giving her pitying looks when Trixie thought she couldn’t see them. And there was always something about strong personalities that made their thoughts the loudest. For the moment though it seemed her brain had decided to give her a break. She hadn’t heard a single one of Alaska’s thoughts during their brief trip from Trixie’s room to the dining room, and now that they were here all she could hear was the chatter of the witches sat round the table. She was confused, but as she took her seat she decided to enjoy it rather than think about it too much.

“Hi Ms. Monsoon.” Trixie said with a smile turning to the older woman, receiving a bright toothy grin in response.

“Hello Trixie! Get settled in alright?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“I know how hard it can be being the new girl.” She frowned and looked at Trixie with pity in her eyes, but then brightened up and looked past her to the grey haired girl, “Max was actually the most recent addition to the academy before you showed up. Been here, what two months?”

“Three months tomorrow.” The girl said with a smile and an accent that Trixie thought might be british. She was very pretty. Incredibly pale, with a perfectly circular beauty mark on her cheek. Trixie wondered if it was real. The girl was suddenly sticking her hand out for Trixie to shake. “Max Malanaphy, pleased to meet you darling.” When Trixie took the girl’s hand she stiffened a little, and her eyes widened. Trixie thought her hands must have been very cold, or sweaty, but then Max’s eyes darted to the only empty chair left at the table, and she let out a little giggle. A second later she seemed to realize what she’d done and said sheepishly, “Sorry about that, long day.”

“Of course, I understand” Trixie said, not understanding in the slightest.

Suddenly one of the women sitting at the head of the table stood up and began to address the room. “Ladies, Ladies, settle down. We have a new sister with us today.” The woman was beautiful. She wore a boat neck dress and her hair was in an impeccably curled updo on top of her head. “I’d like us all to go around the table and- Where the fuck is Zamolodchikova?”

“She wasn’t in our room earlier.�� Alaska drawled.

The woman grit her teeth, “Goddamn it. Well, I guess we’ll have to deal with that when she gets back. We aren’t going to wait for her to eat. If the food is gone when she’s back then the food is gone she knows the rules.” The woman sighed “In any case. This is our newest sister Trixie. I want us all to go around the room and introduce ourselves to her. Alright? Can we do that without getting distracted” the girls all laughed and nodded. “Alright. I will start. I am Ms. Del Rio. But all the girls call me Bianca, because Ms. Del Rio makes me feel old. You’ve already met Ms. Monsoon, these two lovely ladies next to me are Mrs. Edwards, and Mrs. Royale.” She gestured to a grinning woman with curly brown hair, and a larger woman with one of the kindest faces Trixie had ever had the pleasure of seeing. They both smiled at her. “We are all teachers here, and we’ll make sure you leave this academy a competent and confident witch. Alright, Miss Delano?”

At the sound of her name a pretty round faced girl, probably a few years younger than Trixie perked up. Bright white teeth emerged from behind her charcoal lips. “I’m Adore.” She said smiling

“And what are you in for?” Bianca said her voice a friendly bark, causing the girls around the table giggle again.

“Telekinesis, that’s it so far. Most of the girls here can move stuff too though.” She smiled, but it wasn’t as bright as before.

“Don’t worry doll, you’ll get there.” Bianca said, and patted the girl’s hand. Adore smiled and blushed turning back to Trixie and smiling once more.

After Adore came a girl named Fame, who, just like Adore, had telekinesis, but could also resist the magic of any other witches, which sounded to Trixie like something that could come in handy. After Fame was Naomi who could control people with her mind, and do the same teleport thing Alaska could do. After Naomi came an oddly familiar face.

“Kim?” Trixie gasped

“I was wondering when you’d recognize me!” The round faced girl laughed.

“I barely did under all that make up! The last time I saw you you weren’t even allowed to wear tinted chapstick!” Trixie laughed and got up to run around the table and give the girl a hug, “I haven’t seen you since 5th grade! What are you doing here?”

“Well remember that pomeranian my grandma had when we were little? Gadget?”

“He peed on me three times, how could I forget?” Trixie laughed.

“Well this one night, my grandma was watching me at her house, and I accidentally fed him a snickers bar, because I didn’t know dogs weren’t supposed to eat chocolate. He died, and my grandma was so upset. I didn’t want her to be upset and I was so sad, and I was petting Gadget’s body while my grandma called the vet, and I guess I just brought him back to life? Turns my great great grandmother was a witch. Grandma thought that the stories were just stories, but then I happened. So the next day she convinced my mom to ship me here. And I’ve been here ever since.”

“Wow.” Trixie breathed, not quite sure what to say. When Kim had up and moved away out of the blue just days before the last day of fifth grade, it’s safe to say that ‘witch who can resurrect the dead’ was not one of the explanations Trixie had thought of. “That’s incredible. It’s so good to see a familiar face.” She smiled and hugged the girl one more time.

“It’s good to see you too, now go sit down and eat, you have more people to meet, we can catch up later.”

Trixie did what she was told, and looked to the next girl, still a little dumbstruck from Kim’s story. Next was the blond that Alaska had sat down next to. When she spoke it was with a heavy Australian accent, “I’m Courtney, I got sent here when my parents caught me making my teachers let me cut class with my mind.”

Trixie nodded and smiled, turning to Alaska who was discreetly putting something in her pocket, after a moment, Trixie realized it was a ziplock baggie filled with lasagna. “We’ve already met.” Alaska smiled.

Next was the black haired girl with the stern looking face. She looked up from where she was eating, and stared at Trixie. “I’m Violet.”

“What do you do?” Trixie asked with a smile, it was interesting to hear what tricks all the other girls had up their sleeves.

Violets eyes darkened “Don’t worry about it.”

The room went quiet for a moment, everyone clearly uncomfortable. Then, for the first time during the entire meal Trixie heard someone’s voice inside her head. She couldn’t be sure who thought it, but she could make out the words as clear as day.

Black Widow.

Trixie struggled to keep a neutral expression, “That’s fine,” she smiled, “I didn’t mean to pry.”

Violet offered a tight lipped smile, and then went back to stabbing at her food with her fork.

The next girl was Pearl, a blond who, when she slapped her own face somehow made Trixie feel the blow, “It’s called injury transference, but I like to say i’m a Voodoo Doll. Sounds more punk.”

“It’s not punk if you say it’s punk girl” Adore laughed from her spot next to Fame.

After Pearl was the empty chair that Trixie assumed must belong to whoever Zamolodchikova was, and then Max.

“And we’ve already met Darling.” Max said, and paused, “But I’ve got the sight.”

“Like, seeing into the future?”

“The future, the past, whatever the universe wants me to see.” She said with a flourish of her hands. A few girls around the table rolled their eyes, but it made Trixie laugh.

At that moment the phone rang, and Bianca stood up to go get it.

The girls ate and chattered quietly, until suddenly there was a clamoring at the front door. A whirlwind of plaid and leather stumbled into the house. Sprinting, yet still somehow tip toeing, until coming to rest in the seat next to Max.

The whirlwind was a girl. And boy was she something.

Trixie couldn’t take her eyes off of her. Sharp cheekbones and a sharper jaw line, full cherry red lips, and heaps of platinum blond hair that fell around her shoulders like drapery and rested against her chest. She was wrapped in a hideous combination of clashing plaids and seemed to be wearing leather pants, boots, and gloves, yet somehow it all suited her. When she smiled at the table, two sets of perfect white teeth revealed themselves, and when she began to talk, it was quick and in between heavy gasps for air.

“Sorry I’m late” a breath, “I ran all the way here, “a breath, ”I got caught up,” a breath, “at the pawn shop,” a breath, “Whats up?” She smiled.

“We have a new member of the coven” Naomi said, and gestured to Trixie, “This is Trixie.”

When the newcomer’s eyes suddenly met hers, Trixie realized she was still staring, and quickly averted her gaze.

“Hello Tracy.” The hello was long and drawn out, and it made trixie blush, “I’m-”

“Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova” Bianca’s angry voice came from the doorway.

“I was going to say Katya. Everyone calls me Katya.” The blond, -Katya- said with a wink in Trixie’s direction. “Yes Bianca?”

“Don’t ‘Yes Bianca’ me. You know what time dinner is. This is the third time this week you’ve been late. What’s your excuse this time?”

“I was at the pawn shop!”

“Doing what exactly.”

“I dunno, looking for stuff! I lost track of time. You know how I am.’

“Yes I do, but that can’t be an excuse any more.” The girls around the table all made ‘oooh’ noises. “Not helping ladies.”

“I really am sorry. It was an accident.” Katya said, and she did look genuinely sorry.

“I know it was, that’s why I’m giving you one last chance before the consequences start.”

Katya looked like she wanted to argue, but then cast her eyes down. “Yes mam.”

The rest of dinner passed very quickly, since the food was already gone by that point, and much to Trixie’s immense disappointment, she did not get another opportunity to talk to Katya.

Trixie went to bed before the rest of the girls. She had had a long day and she was tired. She had been lying in her darkened room for about an hour, unable to sleep, when she heard voices outside her door. She got up and crept to the other side of her room, and pressed her ear to the wall and listened.

“I can’t keep saving away food for you Katya.” Alaska’s voice came, slightly muffled, and sounding tired.

“I know, I’m sorry. I promise it won’t happen again. I won’t even go out tomorrow. I promise. Thank you though I- hold on. Did you- never mind thank you for the food. I’m gonna eat it out here, I know you hate food in the room.”

A sigh.

“Alright. Goodnight Katya.”

“Gnight.”

Trixie waited a few more seconds, but couldn’t hear anything else. She shrugged to herself and turned around, almost letting out a shriek when she found Katya sitting on her bed eating lasagna out of a little plastic bag.

“I knew I heard you listening in on us. Hear anything juicy?” The girl smiled, her bright red lips stretching to show her upper and lower teeth, in a smile that would have been unflattering on most people, but for some reason, not on her.

“Fuck. Can everyone here do that? And if so can they please stop doing it in my room?”

“Nope, just Alaska, Naomi and me.” She smiled, “And I can’t make any promises.”

“Can’t make any promises to what?”

“To stop using it to pop in on you. Not when you turn that cute shade of pink when you’re scared.”

Trixie blushed. “I wasn’t scared, just startled bitch!”

Katya laughed, a loud blast of noise, and put the last bite of lasagna into her mouth. “Alright Tracy, alright! I think you and I might just get along.”

“It’s Trixie. And please don’t put your shoes on the bed.”

“I know it is, Tracy.” She replied, and instead of taking her shoes off, or moving to sit with her legs off the side of the bed, she lifted her feet into the air and left them there, her body bent in half as if there were a wall to support her legs.

Trixie blushed again. She couldn’t seem to stop doing that. “Flexible.” She said, eloquently.

“So you noticed?” Katya smiled and winked. “Mom wanted me to be a gymnast before I went all Carrie. She thought I was the first woman in our family not to have the gift, but turns out I was just a late bloomer.” She took a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and stuck one in her mouth. It lit without her so much as looking at a book of matches.

Trixie gasped and went to sit down next to her on the bed, forgetting momentarily how much she disliked the smell of cigarettes, “How did you do that?”

“A little slow on the uptake aren’t we Barbie” Katya laughed, and then whispered “It’s magic.” and did jazz hands.

Trixie rolled her eyes and shoved the girl in the shoulder, “Yeah I assumed that cunt. It’s just, no one else talked about being able to make fire.”

“Well, that’s me, the little fire bug. Pyrokinesis. What about you? What do you do?” She asked taking a long drag from her cigarette and smiling up at trixie.

“I can hear people’s thoughts.”

Katya shot upright, her legs slamming down on the bed to the side of Trixie. “You’re clairvoyant? No fucking way. We haven’t got one of you yet. Okay mama, what am I thinking?” She stared deep into Trixie’s eyes, and moved so that her face was inches from the other girls.

Trixie was uncomfortable for a second, she was tense. Beautiful icy blue eyes stared into hers, and the mind reader had to fight not to get lost in them. That is until Katya’s thought rang through her mind.

Send nudes.

Trixie shrieked a laugh and pushed the other girl away from her. “You whore, oh my god.”

Katya was laughing too hard to respond, rolling around on the bed and flapping her hands about like some type of seal. Finally she caught her breath and sat up, still giggling a little. “You’re fun Tracy. After classes tomorrow we should hang out.”

“I could be talked into that.” Trixie said quietly with a little smile. And then neither of them were talking, and there was that tension again. Katya looked like she was going to say something, when her eyes darted up to behind Trixie’s shoulder. Trixie looked behind her, and sucked in a breath and grasped at her chest. Alaska had appeared behind her again.

“I really wish you guys would stop doing that. Just use the door like a normal person.”

“A)…” Alaska said “I’m not a normal person. And B) I did use the door. You two were just too wrapped up in whatever it was you were doing to notice.”

Trixie blushed, that wasn’t like her.

“Anyway…” the slim girl turned to Katya, “It’s almost midnight. You should really be getting sleep, because you know that Bianca is going to be hard on you tomorrow in class.”

Katya looked back to Trixie and sighed, “Yeah you’re probably right.” She winked at Trixie and said “Until tomorrow Tracy.” She then disappeared.

Alaska sighed and shook her head, then walked to the door and left through it like a civilized person.

Trixie laid back in her bed and looked at her ceiling thinking about what Ms. Monsoon had thought.

She was right, these girls are going to eat me alive.

195 notes · View notes

josai · 8 years ago

Text

you’re now rockin with the champion

Read on AO3 here || Part 1 of 4 || Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: It's just a job. It's just sex.

So why is Oikawa feeling more than he has in years for Iwaizumi, a MMA fighter who only cares about the ring?

Oikawa sighs, dropping his head down against his arms.

It’s been another long day.

He can only sit in the same desk, spend eight hours working on the same, boring work for so long before he wants to bash his head against the wall.

Today is unfortunately one of those days.

He’s sitting at his desk, shoes already kicked off in front of him. He’s loosened his tie, and is breaking the rules by having a coffee cup on his desk, but he really couldn’t care less. He didn’t even take the time to style his hair properly today. He’s a hot mess, and no amount of cat videos, swiping snacks from the staff room or trading jokes via e-mail with his only colleague that he actually likes seem to be able to save him from today.

He’s very busy contemplating life as it is and what poor choices he must have made in the past when he finally gets some reprieve - his phone rings. Not his office phone, the old, ridiculous black corded phone that the office has saddled him with, no, but his personal cell phone. The one he’s shoved in a bright orange case because it makes him smile that his boss glares at it during every meeting. He picks up the phone after letting it ring a few times, to maybe annoy someone in the office with his obnoxious ring tone, seeing that it’s from his college buddy, Kuroo. He doesn’t hesitate to pick up the phone at lightning speed, grateful for a distraction, pressing it to his ear and sighing out a greeting. “Tetsu! Hey!”

“Tooru,” It’s loud, and Oikawa wonders if Kuroo’s at work. “Hey, I have a job for you. Are you interested in getting out of town for a couple of days?”

A job? Oikawa has one, and Kuroo knows that - but he can’t help but be intrigued.

“Out of town?” Oikawa sits up a little straighter. That’s caught his attention. He’s dying for something, anything to change. “I’m listening.”

Kuroo clears his voice, and sounds a little smug, like he knows he’s already won Oikawa over. Asshole. “Well, I’m taking one of my fighters to America in a week. The problem is, he’s hopeless and can’t speak a lick of English, so I need someone to interpret for him. I know this isn’t what you do for work, but - I know you’ll do a good job and be… private.”

Interpreting? In America? Wait - “What’s the need for the privacy?”

“Hm,” Kuroo hums, and the phone shifts, rustling a bit in Oikawa’s ear. “It’s for one of my more famous fighters. I know you don’t follow this kinda stuff, but, well. I need someone that I know is going to do their job properly, and not use this as an opportunity to try and get something more than a paycheck out of it, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Oikawa lifts his gaze up as one of his coworkers walks past his desk, but doesn’t say anything. Even a greeting. Oikawa clicks his tongue.

“Listen, I know that it’s short-notice, and you probably need some time to think about it, but-”

“I’m in,” Oikawa interrupts. His voice is firm and steady, and he doesn’t hesitate. “E-mail me the details, okay?”

He can hear Kuroo’s smile on the other end of the phone. “Will do, Tooru. Thanks. I’ll see you in a week.”

It surprisingly doesn’t take much to get some time off work - he’s been saving up his leave days pretty much since he started, and if Oikawa didn’t know better, he’d think that maybe his boss is looking forward to having a quieter office for a few days.

The trip itself is spontaneous, for sure, but the thought of it leaves Oikawa excited for the rest of the week. He can’t wait to go, and finds himself powering through his work for the week, making use of his office’s lax sign-out policy, leaving early almost every day. They’re technically allowed, as long as their work for the day is done, but Oikawa’s never been so motivated to do his work quietly and efficiently.

Oikawa has no idea what to pack for this kind of trip, and Kuroo isn’t exactly helpful - when Oikawa texts him for some guidance, all he gets back is a something that isn’t too formal, but you still look good in, which tells him absolutely nothing.

He ends up probably packing too much - his suitcase is heavy when he drags it into the airport - but he’s confident that he can face any situation that might come his way during his trip, and look good while doing it.

Oh, how wrong he is.

It’s early, their scheduled flight - far earlier than Oikawa would like to be awake, but his plane ticket is being paid for by Kuroo’s company, so he really can’t complain. He rubs his eyes as he makes his way through the airport, getting through the check-in and security with ease, as they’re apparently waiting for him. His luggage is just too big to carry it on, so he has to check it; he keeps a small bag with him, with just a few things that he might need on the plane. He checks his phone as he goes to find his gate - Kuroo’s already texted him, and they’re apparently already there and waiting for him. How punctual.

Oikawa still doesn’t know who Kuroo’s mystery famous fighter is, as Kuroo said no more, but he truly couldn’t care less. He’s never been to a match, and doesn’t really care to be; he’s pretty sure that it’s not his thing, watching two guys beat each other to a bloody pulp. That sort of thing only sounds good on television. In real life… not so much.

He sees Kuroo right away - he’d know that bed head anywhere - sitting in a quiet row of chairs, talking to the guy who’s sitting next to him. Now, Oikawa would be lying if he said his interest wasn’t piqued at least a little by this entire situation, and even more so when he gets his first glimpse at this fighter.

It’s pretty clear, right away, that he’s athletic. He’s sitting in some casual clothes, a pair of gray sweatpants and a red sweater, with his arms crossed; but Oikawa can see that he has broad shoulders, and a strong frame. His black hair is cut short, and is messy, He runs a hand through it while he talks, looking over at Kuroo tiredly. He doesn’t seem to be a morning person either. Oikawa fixes his bag around his shoulders before walking over.

Kuroo notices Oikawa, looking up and offering him a grin. “You made it!” He stands, and after sending a pointed look to his fighter, the other man stands, too. “This is Iwaizumi Hajime. Iwaizumi, this is Oikawa Tooru. He’s going to be working as your translator during the trip.”

Oikawa gets a strong look from Iwaizumi, who very clearly gives him a once-over. It rubs Oikawa the wrong way; this guy exudes a certain type of confidence, like he’s used to having people treat him like a celebrity. He doesn’t smile at him, but gives him a small smirk, like he’s evaluating Oikawa’s reaction.

Of course, he wants to give him exactly the opposite of what he’s looking for.

“Nice to meet you,” Oikawa replies, short and curt. Iwaizumi gives him a look, but nods back at him rather than speaking.

“Did you get the schedule I emailed to you?” Kuroo pulls his phone out of his pocket, apparently ignoring their little Mexican stand-off, “Because the trip is only for five days, it’s a little bit jam-packed.”

“Yes,” Oikawa shifts on his feet, and looks over at Kuroo, “I got it, I’ve already memorized it. The plane lands at eleven local time, we’ll have time to check in and rest before the morning interviews.”

Kuroo sighs, relieved. “Thanks, Tooru, this is really taking a weight off my shoulders.”

Iwaizumi gives them a look at the use of his first name, but Oikawa misses it, so Iwaizumi clears his throat, and, “Have you ever done anything like this before?”

Oikawa has to hold back a snort, and remind himself he’s working, but it doesn’t really work that well. “Worked with an entitled fighter? No, but don’t worry, I’m a quick study.”

At that Kuroo laughs, pocketing his phone. “Alright, alright, we - oh, hey, we’re about to board. Grab your bags.” Kuroo points to the gate, where the personnel are starting to prepare to take passengers. Iwaizumi slings a duffel bag over his shoulder, and Oikawa watches him just for a minute, before looking away.

Their first meeting is a little less than amicable, but that’s okay. It’s just work, after all.

They manage to board the plane, and Oikawa gets a little bit of solace. He’s flying coach, while Kuroo and Iwaizumi are first-class; it’s alright, except for the woman sitting next to him that’s elbowed him in the side at least six times within the first two hours of the flight.

He sleeps, on and off, but really he’s too excited to do much of that. It might be work, but Oikawa knows this isn’t going to really be work - he likes using his English, and he’s looking forward to getting to see America. He hasn’t gotten much opportunity to travel, with work being crazy busy, and spending time with Kuroo is always fun, especially as they haven’t really gotten to see each other much since college.

And this Iwaizumi guy? Well, Oikawa’s sure that he’s going to love putting him in his place.

Happy birthday to @frenchibi! This one is for you, thank you for always supporting me, motivating me, and reminding that not everything I put out is trash (only like, 90% of it!)

I need to say a special thank you to some AMAZING people who are helping me develop this world and bring this fic to light - @trashytacosan for motivation and support (thank you my trash buddy), @amalasdraws for helping talk headcanons and scenes with me, @ace-of-aoba-jousai for seriously helping me flesh out some upcoming angst, and @manicpation for giving me some much-needed motivation!! THANK YOU!! Part two is coming soon!

#haikyuu!!#iwaoi #iwaizumi hajime #oikawa tooru #haikyuu fanfiction #fighter iwa #i guess this can be the mma au? idk #ill figure it out later #IM SO EXCITED GUYS #i cant wait to show you all more!!#myfanfic

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anarchetypalarchive · 8 years ago

Text

you make me feel like ben and jerry’s would

aka that sorted.food ben/mike/jamie/barry poly fic literally no one asked for, does anybody even ship all the boys together, i’m so sorry this channel has consumed me (happy valentine’s day @egocentrifuge) rating: teen for lads being lads content: takes place in an au where either the boys are all single or their partners are aware and accepting of the relationship, no infidelity in my house; lots of banter; lots of sap on ao3

“Not that I don’t love having Barry’s thigh pressed sensually against my own,” Jamie starts, “but would someone care to remind me exactly why we thought it was a good idea for the four of us not only to take one car on this seven-hour journey, but to take the smallest car we own between us? No, no, Baz, get your damn hand off my leg!”

Up in the front seat, Mike laughs. He shares a grin with Ben, watching through the rearview mirror as Jamie and Barry scuffle.

“Mike’s car has the most efficient gas consumption,” Ben says reasonably from the driver’s seat.

“Alright, sure, fine, but it’s a bloody tighter fit than Mike’s skinny jeans,” Jamie says, giving Barry a solid shove against the door.

“Hey!”

“And twice as sweaty,” Barry contributes, pushing back.

“Hey.”

“Complaining isn’t becoming on either of you,” Ben says primly, laughing and ducking his head when Jamie swats at him from the backseat. “Oi, no distracting the driver!”

“And no taking the piss out of my car unless you want to walk,” Mike adds.

“Why aren’t you driving?” Jamie asks. “I’d be able to fight Ben for passenger seat if he weren’t driving.”

Mike shrugs. “Ben wanted to drive.”

“Oh, well, if Ben wanted to drive,” Jamie starts, cooing, and Mike grabs the nearest object (his phone) and throws it at him (whoops).

“Shut it.”

Barry and Jamie make loud, obnoxious kissing noises at him until Barry pauses and frowns. “When are we going to stop?”

Ben glances at the GPS. “We’ll be there around four.”

“No, I meant— The type of stop where we get to take a piss.”

“Are you kidding?” Mike says, incredulous. “We left twenty minutes ago!”

“Why didn’t you go before we left?” Ben asks disapprovingly.

“Well, I didn’t need to go then!”

“I don’t have a stop scheduled until noon. And that’s for lunch.”

“That’s three hours from now!” Barry protests.

“Do you have an itinerary?” Jamie asks, sounding delighted about it.

Ben looks defensive. “Yes, what of it?”

Jamie and Mike break out into a simultaneous rendition of SuperGeek while Ben rolls his eyes and tries to shout above them about how it’s important to stay organized during a long trip.

Jamie breaks off mid-harmony to yelp. “Barry, what the hell are you doing?”

“If we’re not stopping, I’m still going.”

“Zip up your jeans right now.”

“It’s fine, I’ll do it out the window, nobody else is even on the road right now.”

“If somebody doesn’t switch seats with me I am going to lose my mind.”

Mike rolls his eyes and tunes out their bickering. Ben offers him a smile.It’s the first real trip they’ve been on since—well, since this started.

Mike keeps referring to it in his head and sometimes out loud as this, or that thing we’re doing, or just it. It’s not because he’s embarrassed by it or uncomfortable with it—hell, he’s never felt so sure in his place with Ben and the lads, never felt so loved and cared for and all that stupid shite. That thing they’re doing, it’s good.

Jamie calls it a fourway shag even though they haven’t managed to navigate more than messy necking and wandering hands with all four of them at the same time. Honestly, Mike’s glad they’re taking it slow.

Barry doesn’t actually give words to it; maybe he’s in the same boat as Mike, nothing feeling quite right in his mouth, but he’s never been hesitant, giving affection easily to each of them and calling for the occasional lad’s night in. Maybe that’s how he sees it in his head.

Mike’s pretty sure Jamie and Baz have been getting together since school, and he’d been nervous at first, like it’d be intruding on something that already existed, but Barry’s easily affectionate and Jamie’s general attitude is the more the merrier with food and people, apparently, so it’s been good.

Ben takes to the word polyamory with such equanimity that Mike wonders if he’s been thinking about it for a long time, researching it the way he does with anything he’s curious about. Ben likes definition, likes specifics, likes knowing, and Mike’s sure the word brings him comfort.

He figures it doesn’t really matter what they call it. It works, is the point, and Mike’s glad to have finally arrived here after the four of them had floated aimlessly, beating around every bush and avoiding each other and frustrated as they struggled to sort things out in their heads.

Ben was the one who brought an end to it, calling a meeting like it had been just another work issue. Somehow, the familiarity of that was enough to break through the tension and finally get them talking.

(“All in favor of one giant shagfest?” Jamie had said.

“Aye,” Barry piped up.

“Jamie,” Ben said reproachfully. “This isn't about shagging.” At Jamie’s expectant face, he rolled his eyes, looking to Mike without responding.

“Aye,” Mike said, grinning.

Ben laughed, relaxing. “Alright, alright. Aye.”

“All those opposed?” Jamie continued, playing it up. He looked around the room and waited, then clapped his hands. “Excellent. Motion passed. Let the shagging commence.”

“Sorted,” Mike and Barry said at the same time.

Ben sighed, fighting a smile.)

That had been a few weeks ago. They’d been especially busy with the show that month, and Mike’s been looking forward to the trip all week. Sure, it’s for work, but it’s still kind of a vacation.

“Mike, I love and respect you as a person, and I love and respect your car as a car, but if we don’t stop soon I’m going to be marking my territory in it, fair warning,” Barry announces, throwing Mike from his reminiscence.

“Ben,” Mike begs. “Ben, please save my car.”

Ben laughs, relenting. “Fine. I suppose we can top off on fuel.” He eyes the gauge dubiously. It hasn’t moved much below full.

Barry bursts from the car before Ben even comes to a complete stop at the station. “I never thought I’d be this overjoyed to enter a disgusting petrol station bathroom,” he sings out as he rushes into the little quick-mart.

“Wash your hands!” Ben calls after him, shaking his head when they hear Barry’s cheerful Nope! in the distance.

Jamie wanders inside after him. “I’m getting a Daim bar. You lot want anything?”

“Oh, excellent, yes, I’m coming in with you,” Mike says.

“I packed food,” Ben says. “Good food. Lovely food.”

“Exactly. Good food,” Jamie says, letting the door to the shop swing shut behind him.

“We want rubbish food,” Mike explains, grinning, and darts in to peck Ben on the lips before chasing after Jamie.

He notices Ben’s surprised but pleased expression; Mike’s not one to initiate much, but he’s feeling loose and relaxed and confident today. He tries out the word boyfriends in his head and ends up smiling idiotically to himself until Jamie asks what the hell he’s smirking at.

Mike shrugs, gathering the bag of junk food he just paid for. “Just that I’m gonna get the front seat again,” he says nonchalantly, and then breaks into a run for the car.

He hears Jamie swear and chase after him, shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor and then crunching on the gravel outside. Mike manages to get the passenger side door open and then he’s shouting, laughing, as Jamie grabs him around the waist and hauls him back. They scuffle, Ben watching with a smile, and then abruptly Ben’s cracking up.

They pause, looking back at the car, where Barry has managed to sneak past them, get into the coveted spot, and throw his seatbelt on.

Jamie sets Mike down. “Oi!”

“Lads,” Barry acknowledges them with a nod.

“You utter—”

“Nah, we’ve lost,” Mike says diplomatically. “C’mon.”

As they return to the main road and get back up to speed, Mike realizes Barry and Jamie were not, in fact, exaggerating the small amount of space in the back seat of his car. He’s going to have to fight for his spot back next time they stop.

He and Jamie tear through their junk food; Jamie takes pity on Barry’s complaints that they didn’t get him anything and tosses a candy bar at him, then promptly falls asleep leaned against Mike once his sugar high wears off.

“That’s a picture moment,” Ben announces quietly, smiling.

Mike frowns. “No.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Barry agrees, digging in his pocket for his phone and twisting around in his seat.

“I hate you.” It’s not like Mike is going to risk waking Jamie up by pushing him off.

Barry shows him the picture once he’s taken it; Mike’s raising an eyebrow at the camera, and Jamie’s face is half pressed into his shoulder, mouth open slightly.

“If you post that on instagram,” Mike starts, “I’ll—”

“Sorry, what was that?” Barry asks, tapping at his phone. “I couldn’t hear you. I was too busy posting this lovely picture to instagram.”

Mike can’t find it in him to get annoyed, not with the way Barry and Ben are laughing quietly and with Jamie’s warmth pressed against him.

It’s quiet for a while, just the hum of tires on the road and the occasional murmur of conversation. Jamie stirs occasionally, Mike shifting to make him more comfortable.

He shakes Jamie awake when they stop again for lunch; Ben’s meticulous planning means they pull off onto a side road that leads to a picnicking area.

They tear into their sandwiches, complimenting Ben’s work and thanking him for it (Barry doing so with a mouthful of food, making Ben roll his eyes fondly and bump shoulders with him).

Ben’s meticulous planning also means that he orders them all up and back into the car before they manage to finish eating. “We’ve got to make up time for Barry’s impromptu bathroom stop.”

“Ah,” Barry says. “Well, actually, speaking of bathroom stops—”

“Go in the bloody bushes,” Mike says, and the second he’s thrown away his trash, he’s racing Jamie to the car. Jamie hip-checks him before he can get the door open, and he lands in the dirt as Jamie throws himself into the car dramatically like he’s just won an Olympic-level race.

“Arse,” Mike says without any real heat, dusting himself off.

“It was my turn.”

“Well, then, it’s my turn next.”

“Unless I beat you again.”

“Then you don’t get to use turns as an argument!”

“Ah! No, no, wait, here, hold out your hands,” Ben says from behind them, stalling their bickering. Barry’s rolling his eyes, Ben brandishing a small bottle of hand sanitizer.

“I barely even touched,” he starts, and Ben looks at him like he’s prepared to upend the bottle over his head. “Fine, fine, give me that, then.”

They’re back on the road soon after, Barry kicking at the back of Jamie’s seat and demanding more leg room until Ben says I will turn this car around, so help me, and they’re all cracking up, Ben looking decidedly pleased with himself.

They’re all half-dozing by the time Ben pulls into the parking lot of the hotel they’re staying at. Mike rouses, picking his head up off of Barry’s shoulder, and rubs his face, feeling the imprint of the seam of Barry’s shirt pressed into his cheek.

Ben’s as alert and cheerful as ever, due to witchcraft or a deal with the devil, probably, and they grab their suitcases and trek into the hotel lobby to check in.

They had deliberated over how to book rooms before they left, and finally Mike had said, “How about one room with two king-sized beds?”

There’d been a long moment of silence, and Mike had flushed, ready to pass it off as a joke, but then Jamie had nodded, and Ben said it was a “fantastic idea, and it’ll save us some money,” and Barry suggested they push the beds together and “have a sleepover, paint each other’s toenails,” and Mike had punched him in the arm.

The room is enormous, the beds more luxurious than the one Mike has at home, and he takes a running start and leaps onto one of them in a belly flop.

“Incoming!” Barry calls out, and Mike barely manages to roll out of the way before he hits the bed where he’d been a fraction of a second ago.

“I thought we’d go to dinner around seven,” Ben says, dragging his suitcase further inside. “There’s a lovely place not far from here we can walk to.”

“Sounds great,” Mike says. “You want to get some footage and then watch telly for a bit?”

“I am going to go down to the pool,” Jamie announces, rifling through his bag.

Ben looks mildly concerned. “Jamie, you are aware it’s the middle of winter.”

“The pool’s heated,” Jamie says. “Barry told me.”

Ben and Mike look at him. Barry nods. “Yeah. It’s deece.”

Jamie snags a towel from the bathroom and tucks his room key into his back pocket, a swatch of fabric held in one hand. “You lot are free to come join me if you like.”

“Noted,” Mike says.

Barry’s looking at the fabric in Jamie’s hand with a horrified expression. “Is that a speedo.”

“Absolutely,” Jamie says proudly.

“You know, suddenly I think I may not be joining you.”

“Your mouth says no, but your heart—”

“Says hell no.”

Jamie shrugs, grinning. “Your loss,” he says, heading out into the hall, shaking his hips as he goes.

Ben folds his arms over his chest. “Barry.”

“Ben.”

“The pool isn’t heated, is it.”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Footage opportunity?” Mike chimes in.

Ben cracks a surprisingly devious smile. “Oh, absolutely.”

(Jamie greets them when they reach the pool, changed into his speedo and commenting about how lucky it is that they’ve got the pool to themselves. He takes a running start and cannonballs into the water, the rest of them scampering back to avoid the splash, and then emerges with a shriek.

“You wanker!” he splutters, splashing about frantically until he reaches the wall and hauls himself back onto the deck.

“Oh, don’t get all stroppy,” Barry says. “It’s not very becoming.”

“You are so dead— Actually,” Jamie says, calming down suddenly, “no. No, you know what, you’re right, it’s not becoming.”

Barry looks at him warily. “Well, good.”

“No, I think what you need is a hug.”

Barry takes a couple of steps back. “Now, Jamie— Mate—” He yelps when Jamie charges forward and wraps his arms around him tightly. Squirming in Jamie’s grip, he pleads for help, going from a joking tone to a panicked one when Jamie lifts him off the ground and falls back into the pool, taking Barry with him.

The two of them shiver pathetically all the way back to the hotel room, trying unsuccessfully to share a single towel. Ben and Mike push the beds together while they change into dry clothes, and they pile into the mega-bed, blankets and pillows strewn chaotically around them as they search for a decent program on television.

By the time seven o’clock rolls around, Mike sees Ben take in the sight of them—laying on each other in a haphazard pile, bickering over a rerun episode of Downton Abbey.

“You know,” Ben says thoughtfully, “perhaps we could just order room service.”

Mike kind of loves his life.

#anarchetypal writes #sortedshipping #no one is here for this and i don't care feast your eyes on presumably the only fic for this ship in existence #welcome to rarepair hell

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celestial-leaves · 6 years ago

Text

This Is Our Land

2 o’clock AM, November 9th, 2016

The lounge is silent; on the TV screen, the spokesperson is droning but no sound emerges from the speakers. It’s as if the entire world has been muted, there’s an irritating buzzing in his ears but when Maël lifts a finger to clear them there’s nothing there. He lets his hand fall back to his side and takes a breath, it catches on the way in but he forces it through, and turns his head to look around the room. Oscar is seated at the base of their raggedy armchair, scarily still, and eyes fixed on the monitor. The comforter he’d dragged from his room pools around him, the scarlet color painful to look at. Maël forces another breath and looks away, Nathan’s sudden flurry of motion catches his attention.

“I need a cig,” is all the other boy says before he strides from the room, the outer door slamming closed behind him. The loud sound is jarring but while Maël jumps it doesn’t even draw a twitch from Oscar. Maël swallows and stands up, hands clenching, and unclenching restlessly, he shoves them into his pockets but it doesn’t help.

“I-I think I’m going to make some hot chocolate; do you want any?”

Oscar doesn’t react.

“Oscar?” Maël tries again, taking a step forward. He hates how weird his voice sounds it’s all whiny and catches in his throat, like it has claws.

“Don’t you have an exam tomorrow?” Oscar’s voice is low, unencumbered with any emotion. He doesn’t look away from the TV screen and Maël remembers suddenly that the Physics major can read lips.

“I do,” Maël says, “do you want me to unmute the TV?” Oscar remains silent for a moment before he sighs and stands up, the TV screen flickers to black.

“No,” Oscar says quietly. “I’m going to bed, don’t stay up too late.” His footsteps are heavy as he leaves the room, blanket trailing behind. Maël follows him with his gaze until he’s out of sight and then makes his way to the kitchen. The dishes in the sink aren’t appealing in the least, nor is the big pot of pasta that’s been left out on the stove. Mechanically he gets out the tupperware and puts the food away. The dishes he leaves for someone else, and instead reaches for the hot cocoa container. It’s empty, barely a spoonful of cocoa powder left at the bottom. The sudden unexpected urge to cuss is surprisingly strong, he doesn’t, instead he turns and throws the container as hard as he can. The part of him that was looking forward to the smash that it would make when it hit something, withers up and disappears when Nathan’s hand snaps out and catches it instead.

“It’s on the list,” Nathan says, he flicks off the lid, tilts his head back, and brings the container up to his lips. Maël groans and looks away towards their white board, true enough in Oscar’s scratchy penmanship ‘Cocoa Powder’ has been written. Maël groans again.

“Alex called, he needs a ride home,” Nathan says as he tosses the now empty container back to him. Maël fumbles the catch and the can skids off under the table. Grumbling, he ducks down after it and then rinses it off in the sink before placing it in their recycling bag. When he turns around again, Nathan is brewing up a cup of instant coffee. “Do you want to come?”

Maël hesitates, his fingers tightening around the hem of his sweatshirt. While the thought of leaving campus for a while is appealing, he’s not sure it’s a good idea. “I have to study,” he says instead and is rewarded with Nathan’s patented expression of disbelief.

“And throwing a cocoa can at the wall was going to help you study?” Nathan straitens up and continues, “Don’t kid yourself, no one is getting any studying done tonight. I on the other hand am looking at an hour long drive, there’s no way one cup of shitty coffee will be enough to keep me awake.” To further his point, he drains the cup, and pulls a disgusted face. “Beurk.”

Maël smiles a bit, despite himself and nods. “Alright, I’ll tag along then.” Nathan nods his approval and pours another cup. Maël leaves Nathan to his energizing and heads to his room, his phone is charging on his bed, but the blinking yellow light tells him he has a lot of messages. He ignores it for now and ditches his shorts for a pair of sweatpants, he keeps the sweatshirt but doesn’t bother with a jacket, if all goes well he won’t have to leave the car. He does fish his wallet out of his backpack though, before securing his phone and heading back to the lounge. Nathan is waiting for him, an unlit cigarette spinning around his fingers. They make their way towards the door, mindful of not waking Oscar.

Nathan’s car is parked outside, the Honda is getting a bit up there in the years and has the scars to prove it but it’s served them well since the group had been tossed together at the beginning of the semester. Maël clambered into the passenger seat and scrunched himself up, while Nathan fiddled with the controls. Once they’re on their way the car soon warms up, and he relaxes, pulling out his phone when it buzzes insistently.

“Put some music on,” Nathan requests. Maël complies and turns on the radio, the first station that the search pulls up is spewing out comments from celebrants. Maël turns the radio off and fishes around for the phone jack instead. He then snags Nathan’s phone and plugs it in, scrolling through the apps until he can hit ‘play all’ on the song section.

When ‘you will not be able to stay home’, fills up the car. Maël catches sight Nathan’s grin across the car and doesn’t need to be told to turn up the volume or to roll down his window. That done he slumps down in his seat, one hand drumming out the beat on the window sill, the other scrolling down the list of messages. The most recent is from Bianca dating ‘2:39 AM’, he keeps scrolling until he gets to a text from Pierre. His friend has only texted him three messages; Maël smiles as Pierre’s eloquence comes across, in a simple ‘What the Fuck?’, followed by ‘I am so so sorry’ and then ‘Don’t do anything stupid.’

“What’s so funny?”

“Pierre thinks I’m likely to do stupid things,” Maël answered, as he texts back. “He says he’s sorry.”

Nathan snorts, “He’s not the one that should be apologizing.” Maël hums an agreement, he’s vaguely relieved that Pierre hasn’t answered his text, one of them at least should be able to get some sleep. The next person he checks the messages from is Louise, most of his sister’s messages are pre-results, vague commentaries then there’s a time gap with her latest message dating to half an hour ago;

‘Well that happened. I’m going over to Claire’s, Elliot said she’s pulled out the whiskey. Stay safe.’

Maël texts her back, he’s not worried though, Claire may rage a lot but she’d never drink while with child. None of his other siblings or cousins have texted him, but there’s a message from Pearl, and he hesitates to read it. Instead, he checks out Bianca’s. Maël isn’t really surprised when it comes across as a mixture of gibberish, and angry GIFs. The final text though makes his throat clench painfully, and he has too clear it before he can formulate an answer, as if that would help.

‘How’s your studying going?’

‘Not well. Surprisingly, Nathan’s playlist doesn’t make for good studying music.’

‘What’s playing?’

‘Tears and Rain. Is anyone else still awake?’

‘Mamma’s retired to her study, Papa’s out on the back porch with the dogs. Ombre misses you.’

‘I miss her too, give her a good scratch for me.’

The next message is a GIF of a pile of cute puppies, Maël smiles but doesn’t send a GIF back. Instead he instructs Bianca to get some sleep, and flicks back to Pearl’s message. Bianca’s reply is immediate though. ‘As if I could sleep’.

‘I know’ Maël types, ‘but if you think Mamma’s going to let you miss class, you’ve got another think coming.’

‘Shaddup, you’re awake too.’

‘I’m in College.’

‘So?’

‘And I’ll be going to bed soon.’

‘With James Blunt as your sound track?’

‘No, with Green day. I’ll talk to you later, okay?’

‘Kay… G’night Maël.’

‘Good Night, Sorellina.’

The only thing Pearl has to say though when he finally gets to her message is, ‘I love you.’ Maël feels lips quirk up but he’s not smiling. ‘Love you too, will I see you at 8 for bk, as planned?’ That done he sets his phone aside and looks out the window, they’ve left the city and are now cruising along towards Alex’s hometown. It’s peaceful for a while, as ‘Wake me up when September ends’ fades away to ‘How to save a life’. Sometime during his texting, Nathan had shut the windows and turned down the volume, it’s now nothing more than a quiet sound track. Maël leaned his head against the window and fighting the urge to close his eyes. It’s a battle that he loses.

When Maël comes too, it’s to the sound of Alex scrambling into the backseat, shoving his duffel bag in front of him. ‘Sorairo Days’ is playing. Maël straightened up, rubbing at an eye as he scooted his chair forward. “Hey, Alex.”

“G’morning, sorry man, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Alex replies, he flops forwards stretching out a fists which Maël sleepily bumps. “Guess who’s now disowned?” Alex asks, his voice way too chirper for the early hour. He continues before Maël can question him, “I already got Oscar’s permission but do you two mind if Ilian chills at the dorm with us for a bit?”

“You woke Oscar up?” Nathan sounds impressed, he backs them out of the driveway and then they’re off again. Maël doesn’t know what to say, so he keeps quiet.

“Yeah, he was pissed. Wanted to know why I wasn’t texting Maël, I told him that you were studying, and that Nathan was driving. I wouldn’t be able to live with it if Nat got into a crash, you know, so that’s what I told him, plus you never text and drive, do you Nathan?” Alex flopped back into his seat, readjusting his seatbelt, but a moment later he’s taping his fingers and his feet.

“Of course Ilian’s welcome to stay with us,” Maël says, and is awarded with a wide grin. “As long as we don’t have to drive back and fetch him.” Alex laughs and leans forwards again.

“So why are you here anyway, Maël? Don’t you have an exam in like,” he checked his watch, “8 hours?”

“It’s alright,” Maël replies, “it’s an Italian exam. The teacher might even cancel it.” He yawns and then turns his full attention on Alex. “How about you, don’t you have a paper due tomorrow?”

Alex deflates, eyes wide and guilty, “Um…maybe, probably, I wonder if I can get an extension? But I’ll probably be fine it’s only a small one, like seven pages. I’ll finish it tonight. More importantly, what’s everyone doing for thanksgiving?”

“Don’t know yet, but you’re welcome to come over to mine.” Nathan offered, “just be quiet for a minute, I like this song.”

There’s instant silence as the familiar cords of ‘Einer gegen alle’ start playing. Maël lowers then raises his window questioningly, and in reply Nathan turns up the volume. Soon they’re cruising down the highway again, blaring music despite the cold wind that’s blowing into the car. Maël finds himself mouthing along, the words make no sense to him but they’re pretty. Alex is fluent in German and has no problems bleating out words, except that he can’t sing. The subsequent five songs are all in German, and Maël wonders if the shuffle disengaged or if Nathan just has that many German songs.

“I have two German playlists,” Nathan tells him when pressed. They’re approaching the city limits again, and so the volume has been obligingly turned down.

“And a Danish one!” Alex pipes up. “You know between the four of us it’s a wonder that we don’t start our own multi-linguistic club. I’ve got the German, Maël has the French and Italian, Nathan has the Japanese, and Oscar has the Spanish. We could totally form a detective’s club!”

“No.”

Maël leaves the categorical denial of their dreams to Nathan and instead finds himself laughing at Alex’s face. His fellow sophomore sighs, and informs them that they lack imagination, but he’s back to his usual self a moment later. Except, it’s not normal, Alex being excited about things is the usual but not like this, there’s something wrong and Maël finds that he really doesn’t want to think about it. They’ve all calmed down, the early hour catching up to them as Nathan pulls up to the front of the dorm. Maël stumbles out of the car, stretching towards the sky in an effort to loosen his muscles, it doesn’t really help. Alex does the same and then slings his duffel over a shoulder, leaving both hands to cradle Ilian’s carrier. To avoid waking Oscar up they make their pit stops on the first floor and it’s bordering on 5 o’clock by the time they stagger back into their apartment. Maël heads straight for his room, kicking off his shoes on the way and collapses on his bed.

His alarm doesn’t wake him up, nor does the morning sun streaming through the open blinds, not even someone knocking at his door. Maël wakes up because falling out of bed and landing on a hard floor, hurts, that and the sudden loss of his blanket brings the unwelcome sting of cold. He blinks blearily up at Oscar who’s standing above him, fully dressed, and glaring.

“Your girlfriend’s at the door, apparently you stood her up at breakfast,” Oscar informs him and leaves. Maël groans and sits up, holding his head. Alex sitting up on his own bed, laughs but saves his commentary for himself. It takes Maël another moment to register what Oscar said, and then he yelps, stumbling for the outer door. He jerks it open, Pearl’s not in the hallway, she’s not in the staircase either, and Maël doesn’t think about who he’s about to wake up when he hollers her name down the hallway.

“Yeah?”

The voice comes from behind him, Maël turns around wide-eyed.

“You called?” Pearl asks leaning towards him over the kitchen counter.

“You’re…” Maël says, his voice doesn’t come out right so he tries again. “Yeah, Oscar said you were at the door.”

“I was,” Pearl says, “And now I’m in the kitchen.” She tosses a teasing grin over her shoulder and flips her hair comically. Maël makes his way over, thoughts still to muddled to do anything other than stare, it doesn’t help that Pearl’s pretty. This morning she’s gone full out blue with a fluffy silk skirt and blue blouse. Maël has no doubt that it’s a political statement, just as much as her pink, white, purple, black, and blue hair tie is. “Oscar came and fetched me at the dining hall, he said that you all got back at an ungodly hour,” Pearl adds, providing the much needed explanation for her presence in the apartment compound.

“Morning Pearl, Nathan and Maël came and broke me out,” Alex says, sliding past them into the kitchen. “Wachya making?”

“Scrambled eggs, coffee, and toast,” Pearl replies, she finished whatever she was doing at the stove and turned around holding her arms open. “Oscar did mention something to that effect, c’mere you and I can be outcasts together.” Alex beams at the invitation and darts forward, sweeping Pearl into a swinging hug.

Pearl’s comment though sets off an alarm bell in Maël’s head. “Attends une minute, you said that Oscar met you at the cafeteria and then brought you back here?”

Pearl confirms this with a nod of her head as she passes him a plate and a cup of coffee. “Eat quickly, I want to make my 11 o’clock class.”

Maël complies, the dullness from sleep starting to wear off, still he’s not sure of the answers he’s come up with. He’s still thinking about it as he gets dressed and then walks to class with Alex and Pearl. Nathan had cussed at them when they’d tried to wake him so they’d made an executive decision to let him sleep. Alex leaves them at the Science Quad with a cheerful wave and a promise to meet up for lunch. Maël walks Pearl to her gender studies class, and then climbs another flight of stairs for his French class. It’s only, several hours later, when he’s sitting down to take his Italian exam that the answer, written in block letters across his exam paper, hits him square in the face.

(MISSING SOMETHING, LIKE THE ANSWER)

8 O’clock PM, November 9th 2016

Maël wants to laugh, he really does, a good deep laugh that would make his belly ache but he’d feel so much better after. He wants to cry, maybe scream and shout a bit for good measure. He does neither though. Instead he stiffens his posture, lifts his chin, and tightens his grip on the door.

“Either you leave or I call Campo and they escort you to the nearest holding cell,” Maël says, he feels an internal flicker of pride that his voice doesn’t shake. But the man on the other side of the door isn’t impressed, nor intimidated, not one iota apparently. Standing at several heads taller than Maël, he merely glares down at him with his arms crossed.

“I have a better idea for you, young man, why don’t you and your friends head to the library and hit some books while I have a chat with my son,” Alexandro Senior says. “I hear exams are hitting heavy this week.”

Maël doesn’t bother with words and just shakes his head, scrunching up his nose at the smell of alcohol. Alex’s face when he’d recognize Senior’s voice was enough to convince Maël that door duty is his post for the extended future. It’s clear though that Senior doesn’t agree, nor does Senior’s brother. He doesn’t know his name, but two of them is warrant enough to call Campo. However, there’s no way he can free a hand to make the phone call.

“Is this a bad time?”

Pearl, Maël decides, is a god send. He can’t see her over Senior and his brother but he’d recognize her voice anywhere.

“It’d better not be, I’m not climbing back down these stairs,” Oscar’s voice joins the mix and Maël grins.

“It’s not a bad time, these two gentlemen were just leaving,” Maël calls to them, rising slightly on his toes in an effort to appear taller. “Was practice that brutal, Oscar?”

“Practice is always brutal,” Oscar replies and then he’s standing next to Senior, only a head and a half shorter than him. “Excuse me.”

Senior looks like he’s about to comply, perhaps realizing the futility of his exercise but he doesn’t instead he makes an unarticulated sound of rage and strikes out. Maël still can’t see what’s going on but he does hear Pearl yelp, Oscar snarl, and then his view is clear. Senior is picking himself up from the ground, one hand to his bloody nose, looking thunderous. Pearl, no Paul is standing a few feet away from him, balanced on his toes and looking ready to knock him down again. Maël’s distracted by Oscar’s hand suddenly hitting him in the chest and he’s sent stumbling back, out of range of Senior’s brothers fist.

“Call Campo!” Oscar yells, and Maël scrambles to obey backing away from the fight and tugging out his phone. Fingers dialing a number in seconds.

“Bonsoir, Fratello!” Bianca’s voice chirps on the other end, and Maël finds himself unable to reply, unable to even hang up.

“Maël?” There’s confusion blossoming in Bianca’s voice now. “What’s wrong? Are you alright? Hang on, PAPAAAAA!” Her scream is enough to snap Maël out of it.

“SorrywrongnumbergottacallCampo,” Maël says and hangs up, this time he checks the number he’s typing.

“Campus Police, what is your exact location and nature of your emergency?”

“5th floor CAJ Complex! Um, I mean C. A. Johnson Dormitory Complex. There are two intruders’ kind of duking it out with my roommates right now, and they won’t leave they want to kidnap another of my roommates buthedoesn’twanttogowiththem!”

“There’s a squad car en route less than four minutes away. Take a deep breath. Can you give me an exact description of the situation without endangering yourself?”

“I’m sorry, Oscar just got slammed, yes I can give you a description. Paul and Oscar are fighting Alexandro Mullins Senior and his brother, I don’t know his name,” Maël describes, as he makes his way back to the door. He peers around it. Senior and Paul were still going at it, though it was mostly just Paul dodging and trying to make his way closer to their room. Oscar isn’t looking too good but he’s still on his feet, and trading barbs with Senior’s brother. Maël tells the responder so, and almost drops the phone when Oscar drops again.

“Hey, I’m going to put the phone on speaker and go help my friend, alright?” Maël doesn’t wait for Campo to reply, instead presses the speaker button, drops his phone on the couch, and charges at Senior’s brother. He doesn’t jump on him though, he knows better, instead Maël goes low and launches all of his weight at Senior’s brother’s kneecaps. It works like a well-oiled machine, and the larger man topples. Maël scrambles onto the man’s back, reaching for his arms and dragging them back in an effort to pin him. It’s not very effective, and the man is still struggling besides the grip Maël and Oscar have on him. There’s a loud thump from behind him, followed seconds later for a shout for everyone to freeze.

Maël looks over his shoulder and stares. Senior has also collapsed, though he’s on his back looking distinctly nauseous. Elian is standing over him, looking murderous, and holding a large book. Maël suspects that that is what felled Senior. The Campo Squadron has arrived.

In the end, despite his vehement protests, Campo leads Senior and his brother away. Maël flops down to the ground and sighs, relief making his muscles all shaky. Oscar groans and also lays down, he’s taken the worst of the beating with a blossoming shiner and a split lip. Paul makes his way over, looking just fine and smiles down at them. Maël grins back, even after a no doubt hard karate practice and getting into an uncalled for fight, his boyfriend is still pretty.

“I just showered,” Paul says letting out a put upon sigh, his hands resting on his hips. “I even rushed to get the best stall, now I have to shower again. Unfair.”

“At least you won’t have to get a sponge bath,” Elian says as he makes his way over, he’s carrying the first aid kit, and an officer follows behind.

“Too true, thanks for your help back there, Eli,” Paul replies, as he sits down, reaching up to redo his ponytail. Elian shrugs and it’s quiet for a bit, as the intern works on patching them up. A few bandaids on Paul, and an ankle wrap for Oscar settles the score. The officer clears them and they’re free to drag themselves back into their room. Maël helps Oscar limp over to the sofa and then relocates himself to an armchair. Paul tracks down Ilian and sits on the ground crooning to him softly.

“Shouldn’t someone go fetch Alex?” Oscar eventually asks.

“He’s not here,” Maël replies, “I sent him to find Nathan when those guys showed up.” There’s nothing to say after that, and Maël allows himself to relax as they wait. His phone bays a moment and effectively shatters the silence. Maël groans, and pats around for it only to remember that he dropped it on the sofa. He sits up properly, clicking his fingers at Oscar, the latter complies and tosses him his phone. It reads ‘three missed phone calls’, the latest phone a few seconds ago. Maël sighs and hits call back, dreading Bianca’s wrath, should she be the one that answers the phone again.

“Allo?”

“Salut, Papa,” Maël says, exhaling in ill hidden relief. “Sorry, about earlier I accidently dialed your number instead of Campo’s.” He ignores the curious sounds that both Paul and Oscar make.

“I see, is everything solved now?”

“Yeah, mostly. Alex says he’s been disowned but his Dad showed up looking for him, which wasn’t welcome. But Oscar and Paul held them off till Campo got here.”

“Them?”

“Senior and his brother. Is Bianca alright?”

“She’s fine, and Alex?’

“He’s…” Maël shrugs helplessly, even knowing that his dad can’t see him. “No, probably not. Nathan and I went and got him after the results were announced, he was already pretty messed up by then.”

“Physically?”

“Hunh? No, mentally like twice as hyper as usual. He was better this morning though, once we’d gotten some sleep. Oh, and I had my Italian exam today, the teacher didn’t cancel it.”

“And?”

“It was shitty, no one wanted to be in class but the teacher sent out an email reminding everyone that we had an exam. I passed it, but that’s only because I’m a native speaker, most likely.”

“How’re your other friends?”

“Eh, Paul hasn’t said anything but I can tell that he’s irritated. Pierre’s angry too, but he promised to call if he needed to rant. Oscar and Nathan, are okay I guess. I haven’t had the chance to talk to anyone else.” The conversation switches to less worrisome topics, and Maël is content to talk about his classes until the sound of a key in the lock catches his attention, he turns about in time to see Nathan and Alex stride in carrying bags.

“We got ice cream and cocoa!” Alex yells, and rushes into the kitchen.

“Ah, everyone is back so I’m going to hang up now. Say hi to Mamma and everyone for me, please?”

“Will do, stay safe Maël,” Robin answers.

“Oui, Papa,” Maël said and hung up.

#Current Events!AU #Samurai Judo #Who Gave Me A Pen?

0 notes

galysh · 8 years ago

Text

This is our land

“This is Our Land”

2 o’clock AM, November 9th 2016

The lounge is silent; on the TV screen the spokesperson is droning but no sound emerges from the speakers. It’s as if the entire world has been muted, there’s an irritating buzzing in his ears but when Maël lifts a finger to clear them there’s nothing there. He lets his hand fall back to his side and takes a breath, it catches on the way in but he forces it through, and turns his head to look around the room. Oscar is seated at the base of their raggedy armchair, scarily still, and eyes fixed on the monitor. The comforter he’d dragged from his room pools around him, the scarlet color painful to look at. Maël forces another breath and looks away, Nathan’s sudden flurry of motion catches his attention.

“I-I think I’m going to make some hot chocolate; do you want any?”

Oscar doesn’t react.

“Oscar?” Maël tries again, taking a step forward. He hates how weird his voice sounds it’s all whiny and catches in his throat, like it has claws.

“I do,” Maël says, “do you want me to unmute the TV?” Oscar remains silent for a moment before he sighs and stands up, the TV screen flickers to black.

“What’s so funny?”

“Pierre thinks I’m likely to do stupid things,” Maël answered, as he texts back. “He says he’s sorry.”

‘Well that happened. I’m going over to Claire’s, Elliot said she’s pulled out the whiskey. Stay safe.’

‘How’s your studying going?’

‘Not well. Surprisingly, Nathan’s playlist doesn’t make for good studying music.’

‘What’s playing?’

‘Tears and Rain. Is anyone else still awake?’

‘Mamma’s retired to her study, Papa’s out on the back porch with the dogs. Ombre misses you.’

‘I miss her too, give her a good scratch for me.’

‘I know’ Maël types, ‘but if you think Mamma’s going to let you miss class, you’ve got another think coming.’

‘Shaddup, you’re awake too.’

‘I’m in College.’

‘So?’

‘And I’ll be going to bed soon.’

‘With James Blunt as your sound track?’

‘No, with Green day. I’ll talk to you later, okay?’

‘Kay… G’night Maël.’

‘Good Night, Sorellina.’

“You woke Oscar up?” Nathan sounds impressed, he backs them out of the driveway and then they’re off again. Maël doesn’t know what to say, so he keeps quiet.

“Of course Ilian’s welcome to stay with us,” Maël says, and is awarded with a wide grin. “As long as we don’t have to drive back and fetch him.” Alex laughs and leans forwards again.

“So why are you here anyway, Maël? Don’t you have an exam in like,” he checked his watch, “8 hours?”

Alex deflates, eyes wide and guilty, “Um…maybe, probably, I wonder if I can get an extension? But I’ll be fine it’s only a small one, like seven pages. I’ll finish it tonight. More importantly, what’s everyone doing for thanksgiving?”

“Don’t know yet, but you’re welcome to come over to mine.” Nathan offered, “just be quiet for a minute, I like this song.”

“I have two German playlists,” Nathan tells him when pressed. They’re approaching the city limits again, and so the volume has been obligingly turned down.

“No.”

Maël leaves the categorical denial of their dreams to Nathan and instead finds himself laughing at Alex’s face. His fellow sophomore sighs, and informs them that they lack imagination, but he’s back to his usual self a moment later. Except, it’s not normal, Alex being excited about things is the usual but not like this, there’s something wrong and Maël finds that he really doesn’t want to think about it. They’ve all calmed down, the early hour catching up to them as Nathan pulls up to the front of the dorm. Maël stumbles out of the car, stretching towards the sky in an effort to loosen his muscles, it doesn’t really help. Alex does the same and then slings his duffel over a shoulder, leaving both hands to cradle Ilian’s carrier. To avoid waking Oscar up they make their pit stops on the first floor and it’s bordering on 6 o’clock by the time they stagger back into their apartment. Maël heads straight for his room, kicking off his shoes on the way and collapses on his bed.

His alarm doesn’t wake him up, nor does the morning sun streaming through the open blinds, not even someone knocking at his door. Maël wakes up because he falling out of bed and landing on a hard floor, hurts, that and the sudden loss of his blanket brings the unwelcome sting of cold. He blinks blearily up at Oscar who’s standing above him, fully dressed, and glaring.