Maggie. 20. isfp. history major. southeastern united states.

Currently obsessed with: Michael Fassbender, James McAvoy, X-Men, Erik Lehnsherr, Charles Xavier, Cherik, XMFC, XMDOFP, CINEMA

my skype handle is huxleypearl.

the once and future king

am I at work? yes

should I be getting ahead on my homework and readings this week? yes

am I writing RA!AU stuff instead? yes

am I going to eventually post an actual fic like an actual human being? yes

is today that day? …no, but here is a snippet of what is to come

Charles knew, he knew that he was going to regret allowing Erik to be in charge of calling role post fire alarm, but he didn’t have the energy to fight him over clipboard duty. He had spent the night before arguing with Erik that, no, they could not break into Emma’s room to steal her bleach and hair spray supply after she did that weird eye squeeze thing when she saw the floor’s new door tags, even if it was “the true source of her power, Charles!”

He rubbed his eyes. It was too early for him to worry about these things.

"All right, everyone, listen up," Erik called, clipboard in hand. The sleepy group of residents slowly cranked their heads in his direction; Erik absentmindedly floated his pen between his fingers while he waited.

"I would like everyone to know that the reason we’re out here at, let’s see," Erik paused to slide his phone out of his pocket, "4:42 a.m., fuuuck me, is because Alex Summers, who should be thanking some higher power every day that he’s pretty, burned popcorn in his microwave again—”

Fists balled, Alex seethed, “That was one time, you fucking asshole—”

"Oh, excuse me," Erik held his palms up in false defense, "we’re actually out here because Alex Summers doesn’t know how to toke up without setting off an alarm—"

"That’s a lie."

Eyes narrowed, Erik tapped his pen against his clipboard. “If you interrupt me one more time, Summers, I’m going to take the microwave you can’t operate to save your life and shove it so far up your—”

"That’s enough, Erik,” Charles warned, stepping in as referee before screaming and explosions lit up the inky sky. “Call the role so we can go back inside.”

"Et tu, Charles?" Erik asked, clearly amused. With an exaggerated frown and slightly raised eyebrows, he added, "You never were very nice the morning after."

That was it. Charles liked to think of himself as a patient, understanding man, but he was not going to be embarrassed in front of his residents at four fucking forty-four in the morning.

Raising his head in defiance, Charles sniped, “If I recall correctly, I believe that Magda said something similar before she cheated on you.”

Charles regretted it the second it left his mouth because shit shit shit SHIT, that was not common knowledge, and it was one of the things Erik confessed that one night they passed that horrible bottle of Absolut between them.

Glancing at the residents, Charles flinched. Hank’s mouth dangled open, Armando’s expression could only be read as ‘I am extremely uncomfortable and I am not going to make eye contact with either of you idiots,’ and Sean, ever the diplomat, simply said, “Oh, shit.” God, even Azazel looked like he would rather be strangled with his own tail than endure whatever was about to unfold.

Seconds (or was it minutes?) passed before Charles dared to look at Erik’s face. His stomach dropped.

Anger and a splotch of betrayal spun off of Erik. Eyes lit, Erik shoved the clipboard into Charles’ chest before he spun on his heel and stormed towards the courtyard.

Face flushed, Charles pleaded, “Erik, please, I’m sorry—”

"Fuck off, Charles," Erik clipped.

Charles scrubbed his face with his hands. For several moments, the group of boys stood in stunned silence.

"Dude, you fucked up," John remarked, yawning. Shooting John a glare, Bobby elbowed him in the side.

Scoffing, John said, “What? You know it’s true! Now Erik is going to be in a shitty mood all week, and we’re all going to get written up for shit like ‘assaulted floor atmosphere with stupid music’ and ‘annoyed me with excessive presence.’”

"I know," Charles muttered. He silently checked the role, marking off each matching name and face. Once finished, he clicked his pen and offered a weak smile. "You all can go back inside and sleep. I’m going to make sure he doesn’t do anything too drastic."

"Good luck with that," Alex grunted, which earned him a shove from Armando.

Charles nodded. With a sigh, he began the torturous walk to the courtyard. He prayed that Erik was still rehearsing whatever long, dramatic speech he was likely to give the moment he saw Charles.

A girl who looked a lot like Magda rushed in front of him; judging by her duffel bag, she was probably an athlete heading to the gym for a morning workout.

Oh, wait. That was Magda. She was jogging towards the courtyard, which happened to be on the way to the gym.

Wait. Wait.

They were both going to the courtyard…

…which was where Erik was…

…right after Charles had just very publicly betrayed Erik’s trust….

…about information involving Magda….

…Magda.

Magda.

Fuck.

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