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ronan purses his lips together. "well, it's no fun to tease a face looking like that without getting teased back. i feel like i'm kicking a puppy." he says with a small scoff, putting the water gun back into his back pocket. "and, you know, improv is a lot easier than it seems." spoken like a drama major who dealt with improv a little too much now. "i did give you my number, right? so we can start practicing?"
cue meliha pursing their lips at their reaction. should they have pretended to not know the answer? hell, math was their best subject, how could they not know the answer? was meliha reading more into it than she needed? yes. a soft smile rose to their lips at his statement, relaxing her shoulders that she didn't know was tensed. "i wouldn't blame you if you asked for a different partner, though. improv is..." meliha paused. "different compared to math." one of her advisors had suggested for her to take an improv class, to try and get her out of her shell before she would be student teaching.
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☆ — 𝗛𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗚𝗔𝗟𝗔 𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗞
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ronan was giggling like a school boy up until he was pulled closer by the toy in his hand, and by then, he wasn't sure what to feel. yeah, he could tell heath was annoyed and not at all impressed with his little games, but at the same time, the first thought that really entered his mind was does he want to kiss me right now? safe to say that ronan assumed that at any given moment, everyone would want to kiss him. he doesn't move back — in fact, he wished he could move closer. "but it's so much more fun squirting on you." he jokes, a stupid little grin on his lips — probably not the best joke to make at someone clearly not impressed with you. "okay, sorry, i'll put the gun away."
Ronan was an ill-informed nuisance, always doing something that got under his skin, and at this point, Heath had to think that he was doing it on purpose. How difficult was it to just act normal? Yeah, sure, he was the life of the party at SAE events, but out here in the real world, half his stunts didn't fly. And that included shooting people with a squirt gun. Heath recoiled almost instantly, lukewarm water dribbling down his face and splattering over his phone screen. "Bro, what the -- No, I'm not gonna --" Discombobulated. That's how he felt right now, wiping a hand down his face while pocketing his phone, reaching out to grab at the nozzle of the squirt gun. He yanked the other closer, simultaneously leaning in to sagely advise, "Save it for the pledges, Ronan."
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ronan frowns at him. "it's actually my third year of university, and i like to have childlike spirit and whimsy to make up for all the boring students on campus with a lack thereof." he responds almost immediately. ronan still puts the water gun down, though... knowing what little he knew of nova, he could guess that he wasn't exactly completely unserious about the cast comment. "i realize nothing, sir. i don't have enough room in my brain to memorize all your majors." or it was just that he didn't care enough about them, and was leaving room in his brain for other things. "but sure, how about a question in a different field? you're not afraid of a little spray of water?"
It's odd — that something that had once been a dream had become a source of dread, that the student who'd spent summers going places where they could continue to learn would rather rewind to the carefree one they'd just had then face the college campus. Yet, regrettably, here they are. "What is this? High school?" His tone is dead, mirthless, mostly because he's genuinely unsure if this is meant to be a joke or not. "You realize I'm a mathematics major, right?" And a member of Mensa but — Nova wasn't trying to toot their own horn here. "Also if you spray me with whatever is in that thing, you will very likely end up back in a cast so...perhaps reconsider." Frat boys. They didn't trust whatever was in that water gun, nor did they trust Ronan to not spray them, even if they answered his question correctly.
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ronan didn't even hesitate. he pulls the trigger, so to speak, and laughs as the water drips down her forehead. "— i'm sorry, but that was very deserved. not only did you not give me a correct answer, but you also gave me sass." he says with a shrug, but took a step back... just in case. "you kids always on that damn phone. who is more important than me right now? i'll give you a quick answer for this one, unlike you — absolutely no one. not even your mom."
"do i look like a goddamn calculator to you?" or worse, a nerd? she hardly looked up from her phone as she was tapping away at a text with plenty of emojis, not seeing the water gun in his hands. it was a very important text, after all. "try using your phone, alex trebek."
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ronan grins at her. it was hard not to be in a good mood around carmen — besides the obvious fact of the nature of their friendship and arrangement, she just exuded a really good energy. there was a fine line between an annoying good energy, and an actual let me bask in this good energy. or was it just that she was very pretty and that was what pretty privilege was? his mind began to circle back to himself again, as it always does, and began to wonder if people would like him as much if he didn't look the way he did. and of course, ronan was going to compliment himself...
but he snapped out of his egotistical train of thought and focused on carmen again. "you think a broken ankle is gonna bring me down? please, i can probably still get on stage like this. can you imagine all the roles i could do with a broken ankle?" he says with a small scoff. "but seriously — you don't have to stick around a filthy and sick-ridden hospital for me. go and...." enjoy your summer? is it okay to say that when they found the body of a peer? after being stuck in a burning building and ending up in the hospital? "well, go and get away from all this shit. i'll see you in the hamptons, right?"
"If I had been better prepared, I would have brought The Complete Poetical Works of Edgar Allan Poe but I'm afraid The Murders in Rue Morgue will have to do." No, she didn't actually have any books on her person but thankfully, with technology today, she could easily fix that problem and have an E-book ready in mere minutes if he so desired. "I'm fine." An assurance that comes with a smile and squeeze of his hand. She was, technically speaking, fine after all. "Just...minor smoke inhalation. My parents wanted me to go back home with them but...what kind of person would I be if I took off for California while you were bedridden here?"
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"well, you're very lucky that i have a gift with mothers." that gift being called manipulation and a faux ass-kisser charm that is just the right amount of ass kissing. "so i'm sorry if you and your mom are close, i think i'm going to the be the favorite this weekend." he teases her.
upon her suggestion, ronan takes it and makes his way towards the spare bedroom, taking the time to look around the house and all the different things that filled it. he couldn't quite explain it, but it definitely looked like the type of house eloise would live in. or maybe he was wrong — he had come to the sudden realization that he actually doesn't know her all that well. all he's ever done with her is tease her and then flirt with her, only to be shot down.
after putting his suitcase down and looking around the room a little, ronan decided that he would just unpack later (which meant living out of his suitcase for the remainder of the weekend) and made his way to the kitchen again. "so, you wanna get out of here? show me around the town?" he did have a feeling it wasn't as exciting as ronan would hope.
her eyebrow raised as she shut the door behind ronan, softly shaking her head. “don’t get used to it, zeng.” eloise said with a soft laugh, closing the door behind him after he entered. she had been slowly getting into baking more this summer, playing around with recipes. brownies were just one of those that were on her list.
“i know,” eloise started to say. “my mom would have a fit if she knew you came down to portsmouth and wasted money on a hotel when there’s a spare bedroom here,” eloise repeated what her mom had told her before. she wasn't about to fight her mother. she still wasn’t sure why he had chose to come to portsmouth. but she figured she should try to enjoy the next few days. eloise walked down the hallway, stopping at their guest room. "if you want to get settled, i can meet you in the kitchen after? it's right down the hall to the right."
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★ — 𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗘𝗥: 𝗱𝗲𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘀.



highlights; spent a lot of time going crazy at home with his healing broken ankle, hung out with carmen in the hamptons, went to see eloise in new hampshire, found out about a pregnancy scare for carmen, travelled to portugal.
started out the summer on house arrest and he was genuinely going crazy. probably annoyed so many friends by texting and calling constantly cause he was so bored.
when he was finally able to walk alone again, he went to the hamptons as he does every summer, and hung out a lot with carmen there (lots of hooking up)
he impulsively went to stay with eloise and her mother in new hampshire for a weekend
found out about a pregnancy scare that carmen has but not through her!! kept trying to reach her but she went radio silent for a while and ronan was like I Am A Father the whole time
travelled to portugal so he can calm down a little
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“um, obviously i do. i’m not clueless about numbers like some people, apparently.” he teases her, as if he wasn’t just looking up the answer himself on his phone’s calculator. and she probably knew it just as well, considering she knew him better than most. “but your wish is my command, babe.” he does as he’s told, pushing down on the trigger probably a lot more times than emma deserved — at least it was a hot day. god, it felt so good doing favors for people, even if they just didn’t know it yet. he was such a helpful person. “ — i just have the one, but you’re welcome to come watch me terrorize the student body with lukewarm water that’s been in plastic for hours.”
emma had been skipping around campus all day, helping freshman get to their dorms or find their classes, humming the song in her heart. finding a break throughout the madness, emma came across her best friend, a bright smile coming across her lips. at the question, though, her eyebrows furrowed together. "do you expect me to know that? do you know that off of the top of your head?" emma questioned, a soft laugh coming from her lips. "just spray me now, but do you have another water gun? i want to join in on your fun!"
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he wasn’t surprised that reina got the answer correctly, but he was disappointed in the fact that he didn’t get to have his fun and spray her in the face. but maybe an opportunity will arise soon — after all, they do share a living space. so ronan lets out a dramatic sigh, and puts the water gun back in his back pocket. he definitely wanted to answer her by saying he doesn’t carry bags, but what sound sounds more pretentious and privileged than saying that shit? besides, signing up for orientation leader, he kind of had to suck it up and touch the freshmen’s dirty luggage to help them move in with a big ogden smile! at least he knew reina was pretty much on his level. ronan breaks out of his classist montage of thoughts, and takes a bag from reina. “what kind of roomie would i be otherwise? i hope you heard the good news — or bad, depending on how you see things.” he grins. “imagine sharing a living space with me for the rest of the year. how does that make you feel?”
To be back on campus, it felt...weird. Weirder than last year. Reina chalked it up to the fact that she wasn't studying abroad this semester, that she was spending the full school year at Ogden. That was something she hadn't done since freshman year. It was because she wasn't off in some other country living her best life, that's why it felt weird. Not because she almost died at the end of the last school year.
"126" She looked at Ronan not the least bit surprised at his shenanigans. "Need a calculator to check?" She teased. "Careful who you point that water gun at, if it were a bright neon green, it could get you into some trouble." She extended the handle of her large suitcase carrying her wardrobe. She had another box or two of things in the car. "Care to help me out or are you going to continue ask me random math questions?"
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ronan had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes so far back at the mention of the dry clean shirt — even though he would have made the same comment if he let it slip. but he didn’t, and as much as he didn’t like ambrose he still had some sort of image to maintain around people. how else would they all like him? however, his disdain for ambrose couldn’t be shoved down very deep, apparently, as a petty spray of water left his water gun despite his request of avoiding it. and this time, the aim was not at his face as it originally was, but lowered down to the shirt in question. “oops! my hand slipped, i am so sorry. but it’s just a tiny little drop.” he ends with a small grin, and a shrug of his shoulders. “anyway, i sprayed you for cheating. no calculators allowed, but i guess that warrants only one bullet of water. want another question to redeem yourself?” another reason to ruin that shirt more, please? it's a nice shirt, which pissed ronan off even more.
Ambrose's steps faltered short when there was suddenly a water gun in his face and a figure behind it demanding he answer some math question. He blinked a few times as Ronan came into view and furrowed his eyebrows. "How quick?" He asked. He was a music major, not math. He hated math. But automatically he was reaching into his pocket to grab his phone so he could bring up the calculator. "Do not spray me with that, this shirt is dry clean only." Ronan would be able to understand that, right? Probably, but then Ambrose wasn't actually sure if Ronan actually liked him enough to care at all, and he was worried there was some sort of silent timer on this question. Eventually he managed to type it in and held up his phone to show the answer. Why would he ever need to do math in his head? "It's 126." A small pause where for some reason he started to doubt himself, "right?"
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ronan almost stuttered as he responded, and he hated heath for it. “well — if i wanted to use my phone to check the answer, i’d have done it already, wouldn’t i?” he questions, still holding that grin on his lips. “you get one spray for being boring,” the moment ronan says it, he does as he promised, drenching a spot on heath’s forehead. “so you gonna answer or take another hit?” god, it felt like middle school. ronan picking on the boy he had a crush on, except right now, heath didn’t look too impressed with him and his antics. usually he wouldn’t give a fuck, if it was anyone else. but if he wanted to ride him, then he gave too many fucks.
"What?" Heath was not good at normal math, let alone quick math. There was an ancient, elementary school memory lurking somewhere in the deepest recesses of his mind that had something to do with always carrying the nines times table on your hands, but he didn't care to dust that gem off ever again. It didn't seem like it'd help much with Ronan's riddle, either, anyway. He glanced over, the confused look on his face immediately turning dubious when he spotted the water gun in the other's grasp. Yeah, now he definitely wasn't going to take a guess. Shaking his head, he huffed softly. "You have a phone, don't you? Use that." And then Heath promptly went back to scrolling Instagram, not making a move to open the calculator himself.
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ronan gave birdie a grin — some would call it the grin of a villain in a movie after exacting their plan, but he just really wanted to spray someone with water already. “oh, so sorry, little birdie — you’re two points off.” and immediately, ronan taps the trigger and sprays them with two sprays of water in their face. “two sprays for being two off. it’s 126.” he lets out a small chuckle, finally putting it down and preparing for either a laugh along or for them to yell at him. it could go either or, depending on the people he was terrorizing. “don’t worry, i couldn’t answer that without a calculator myself. at least i let you cool off a little under this sun.” he says with a grin.
birdie had applied to be an orientation leader, which apparently the email about the job being offered was not seen by them and lead to them missing out. it ended up being for the better - turns out cross country practice interfered and their coach chewed out everyone who had even considered applying. still they're on campus, hopping around free of responsibilities for the time being. their favorite week of the year was coming up (syllabus week) and birdie was already prepping for it, not realizing that the end of the year before might affect the attitude in the new year.
and it's a good thing birdie was a math major, or ronan's question would have sent their mind in a spiral. "128, gimme something hard." they laughed. "so is the spray a reward or punishment? cause if it's vodka you got there, than it's a reward."
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the look that ronan gave meliha was one of disappointment — one that says, dammit, i really wanted to spray some water in your face. though, it probably wasn’t best to begin a relationship with an assignment partner by drenching them in water or holding a toy gun to their face. so ronan lowers the water gun, and gives her a shrug. “i was just testing your level of intelligence. you know, if you got it wrong, i would have to ask professor mckenna to change partners.” not that ronan even knew math like that — the only reason he knew this is because he used his calculator beforehand. "i guess you passed this time." he adds with a grin.
there was almost always something serious about meliha. like they couldn't ever let their guard down, or let loose. pity. did meliha know how to have even the slightest bit of fun? they didn't know. they thought math was fun, if that says anything about their character. meliha was taken by surprise as he held the water gun in front of their face, furrowing her eyebrows slightly at the question. "126," they answered, their voice soft, but still loud enough for him to hear. the answer came out faster than expected, but they could answer any math problem or riddle all day if they could. it was easy for them.
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he wasn't sure what to expect, impulsively suggesting that he comes to visit eloise in her hometown. for one thing, he certainly wasn't expecting to be invited to stay in their guest room, and actually hoping to get a hotel room or airbnb in case... well, in case eloise had a change of heart about the man after all. but here he was, standing outside the abernathy household — and for some reason, it wasn't like what he had pictured in his head at all.
the door opens, and before even speaking to eloise, the smell of freshly baked brownies hits him. immediately, he smiles at eloise. "did you bake brownies for me, abernathy?" he teases her as he walks in, his little carry on bag dragging behind him.
"— you know, i could have saved you the trouble and stayed at a nearby hotel or something. it's just a weekend."
who: @ronanzng
where: eloise's home in new hampshire
eloise wasn’t sure why she hadn’t stopped the idea of ronan visiting new hampshire for his travel plans. it wasn’t like she had always enjoyed the constant flirting. more so, eloise was mainly afraid of how the other would view her after visiting her home. it wasn't that eloise's family were incredibly rich. they lived comfortably in a two story home - enough space for eloise and her mom. it was nothing like she would see in the hampton's, or higher end living.
when eloise mentioned ronan’s plans to come here over the summer, naomi excitedly started cleaning their entire home, getting ready for a guest. that was one thing about naomi. she didn't have to know a person for years to make her home a home for them, as well. she would treat them as her own, making sure that they were comfortable. eloise loved that about her mom, but in this situation.. eloise was just nervous.
eloise had just finished plating a fresh batch of homemade brownies, her mom's peace offering for any (and all) situations when she heard the doorbell. naomi had insisted that ronan take the guest bedroom in their home. why waste money on a hotel when he can just stay here, eloise could her hear mom's voice in her thoughts. wiping her hands on a towel, she hung up the apron that she was wearing on a hook before finding herself to the door.
"hey, come on in," eloise spoke as she opened the door, moving out of the way for the other to walk in.
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— 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗿.
where: somewhere around campus, between 11 and 2 pm who: open
yes, what happened at the end of last year was quite tragic. very serious, and very sad. but the thing is, ronan didn't really do serious and sad. it was all just becoming so depressing, and it was really harshing the vibe of a new year — the parties, the rushing, the fresh new faces... so of course, he was walking around campus on the very first day while people were moving in with a small, green water gun in his hand. he thought about filling it up with tequila and vodka and giving people 'shots', but that will be saved for the actual fun part of orientation week. instead, he was walking around and asking people questions — wrong answers will get sprayed.
"quick," he held the water gun up in front of the face of the nearest person to him. "what's 47 + 79?"
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ronan couldn't help but let out a laugh as she began to list off the names of authors. she knew him well, and his affinity for the darker more dramatic works. "oh, you know edgar allan poe could put me in a peaceful sleep with his descriptions. i can't wait to dig in." she had at least given him something to do other than stare at his phone and watch tiktoks all day. "— you're fine, carmen, right? like you didn't get hurt at all during the fire?" the subject switches and as does his tone, sounding a little more serious and concerned. he didn't really think to check on others while he was getting treated himself.
"Oh ye of little faith; I could never forget about you." Carmen won't call him out for it any sooner than Ronan would admit to it, but she's as aware as he is that he's hamming up his predicament, playing into his injury with all the drama he could afford, of which he could afford a lot — and she's a sucker for it. Her fingers wrap around his own, dropping the bag onto the nearby chair and drawing to his bedside with a beaming smile. "But of course. I even brought the best bedtime stories to lull you off for a peaceful nights rest. Mary Shelley, Bram Stroker, Edgar Allan Poe, Daphne du Maurier...the works." It's a clear joke, stories that were far darker and more morbid than one should consume before sleep, that she herself wasn't particularly drawn to, that perhaps shouldn't even be referenced in light of their evening.
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