#but also slightly my complaint is for the love of god girl eAt some saLAD lol

[dangerliesbeforeyou]

complaining in tags ignore me

[let-it-raines]

I Hope We Never See October (2/?)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Thank you guys for reading the first part of this! I cannot say enough how much I appreciate all of you and how glad I am little things like this bring you guys joy! Thanks to @resident-of-storybrooke for reading over these words. ❤️

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: One | Two 

-/-

“Emma, the couple at table two wants to talk to you, and the woman at table seven has a complaint about the quiche. Something about there being eggs in them.”

Emma groans and closes her laptop to look at Ashley, one of the new waitresses she hired this summer. She’s good, courteous, and she’s always here on time. Emma is going to hate to lose her for a few weeks when she has her baby, but come hell or high water, the girl is getting maternity leave even if Emma can’t manage more than three weeks without the owner getting involved and likely trying to fire all of them. She deserves months more than that, but Emma can’t change the system.

It’s a shit system, especially for moms.

“They don’t want eggs…in their quiche? Are you serious?”

“She’s vegan and claims she’s been misled.”

Emma rolls her eyes and stands from her chair. She pulls her jean shorts down, the frayed edges covering just a little more thigh, and unties the bottom of her button-down. She probably needs to start dressing up more for this job, but she can’t be bothered. She managed to wear her Blue Dog Tavern polo last week, so that seems like enough effort. “We have symbols on the menu to indicate dietary restrictions, but this isn’t really a restaurant for dietary restrictions beyond one or two items. I’ll deal with it. Thanks, Ashley.”

It’s Sunday morning, which is their second busiest time after Friday and Saturday nights, and the Blue Dog is packed. It’s all hands on deck this morning, but Emma was hoping to get some scheduling and produce ordering done in her office during it. But this is a restaurant, so of course there’s never any time for a breather when she needs it the most. She’ll finish all that later, she guesses, because she has a feeling neither of these conversations are going to be a short one.

And she’s right about that. The woman hating on the quiche pitches a fit and demands her money back before threatening to sue the place and, quite frankly, threatening to cut off Emma’s legs, and Emma has to resolve that without losing her cool when all she wants to do is punch jerks like that straight across the jaw. Then the couple at table two asks her to run through every item on the menu and whether or not everything is organically sourced.

They serve fried mac and cheese balls at ten in the morning and have kitschy, slightly tacky artwork nailed onto the darkly stained wood. If you eat outside on the patio, you get a nice view of people taking off a little more than they should while sunbathing on the surrounding beaches and docked boats. There’s also the occasional ferry that drives by and blows a loud horn that tourists seem to get a kick out of. Do they really think everything is organically sourced?

God, sometimes she really hates tourists.

This is a nice place, though. It’s not somewhere you go for fine dining, but their brunch is divine, it’s got a good atmosphere, and the new bartenders she’s hired this summer make better drinks than you can get at any reasonably priced bar in a ten-mile radius. She likes this little part of the island, and even though she hates tourists, they do fund her entire life. So maybe she hates them a little less than usual when the paychecks roll in.

Today is not a day where the paycheck is rolling in.

Emma notices some of the tables are a little slow, so she picks up the slack, getting drinks and refills and checking on meals. It keeps her on her feet for most of the morning and through the lunch rush, but when it’s over, she collapses on a stool at the end of the bar.

“Chip, can you get me a coffee?” she asks without looking up. “I don’t care what milk or creamer you put in it as long as you don’t bring it to me black. Though, I think I need the caffeine so badly that I’d drink it. I don’t know why I agreed to work the late dinner shift at The Oaks last night. I’m exhausted.”

When she doesn’t get a response, she looks up for Chip. He’s nowhere to be seen, and when she checks her phone schedule, she realizes it’s his break time. Of course it is.

“Lass, I don’t believe the barkeep is here anymore.”

“Yeah, it’s his break, but I can help you. What’s your poison?”

“The coffee you’re having.”

Emma nods and turns to look at the man talking to her, and if she wasn’t so tired, she would have recognized the voice a hell of a lot faster than she did. A lot of different accents pass through this place, but he’s the first British one in awhile. Also the first one to show up in her backyard. Or the Fishers’ backyard, technically, but she’s been renting it for long enough for it to feel like her own even if she’s changed very little of the furniture and decorations outside her bedroom.

Killian. She thinks that was his name. Honestly, she’s surprised she remembers anything because she was in such a rush to get to work that she didn’t have time to deal with all the people at her house. But he was unexpected and attractive – she’s not blind to attractive men no matter what Ruby and Mary Margaret think – and he threw her off for a minute. He looked familiar, but she has no idea why. There’s no way she would have met him before.

But she also doesn’t care. She’s got a gut feeling that she needs to watch out for him, that there’s something that’s not right, and him being at her job is proving that to her. What are the odds that he’d wander in a few days after meeting her when she’s pretty sure he’s never been here before?

Then again, maybe that’s why he’s familiar. It’s June. A lot of people come through here, and she’s not going to remember all their faces. Sometimes she does, though, in the back of her mind where vague, slightly blurry memories reside.

“Sure thing,” Emma sighs, standing from the stool. “Do you have a server?”

“Aye. Heather, I believe, but…”

“But she’s on her phone.” Emma shakes her head. “My boss’s niece. Not much I can do about it, but I’ll get you your coffee, a water, and take your order right away.”

He nods, going back to his own phone, and Emma takes that as her cue to get behind the bar and start making some coffee. She doesn’t usually work this machine, so it takes her a minute to get it right all while she feels Killian staring at her.

“Do you need any suggestions on the menu?” Emma asks as the coffee percolates.

“How are the salads?”

“I prefer things with more calories, but they’re good. Our vegetables are fresh, and I personally enjoy the strawberry poppyseed with chicken, but I know not everyone loves fruit in salads.” He hums behind her as his mug fills, and she grabs some milk from the fridge under the sink, turning to show him. “Milk okay?”

“It’s perfect, Swan.” She raises her brows, which he mirrors, until he cocks his head forward and his lips form an obnoxious little smirk. “On the nametag, love.”

“Now, what did I say about being your love?”

“That you’re not.”

“Exactly.” She finishes making his coffee and hands it over. He’s a customer, she reminds herself. She’s got to try to be a little bit nicer than she wants to be. “So, the salad? If you’re looking more toward the healthy options with protein, the grilled chicken breast on its own is fantastic. You get two sides, which you can find at the bottom of the menu.”

He nods and looks at the menu for half a second before looking up. “The salad would be great. Thank you.”

He picks up his mug, pointing it toward her, and Emma takes it as a dismissal so she can put his order in, and hopefully she can get Heather to do her damn job and serve him for the rest of the meal. She doesn’t like that he knows where she lives and works, and even though she doesn’t think Ariel and Eric spend time with shady people, something about him gives her weird vibes.

His face just looks so damn familiar, and usually she’s really good remembering faces. Huh.

And Emma is usually right about these things. He’s likely nothing more than a rich man looking for a break from life by renting out a large house on the island. He’ll spend a week or two, maybe a month depending on his work situation, here, sleep with as many women as he can, and then he’ll go, never thinking of Martha’s Vineyard again. And she’s pretty sure Ariel does something having to do with high-powered people over in London, so he fits the profile. God, she must have seen him before with Ariel or something. That has to be it.

But for now, he’s a customer, and since Heather seems to be completely checked out, Emma guesses she’s going to have to deal with him. After this morning, he won’t be the worst person she has to deal with all day, and since she’s working at The Oaks tonight, she imagines being treated like shit then will outshine all of this.

Why the hell did she decide to pick up so many shifts at The Oaks? It’s a stuffy country club where tips reflecting the price of the meal aren’t even guaranteed, but it’s extra money with a flexible schedule. She’s doing okay on the money front right now, though, and if she were sane, she’d take some time off and relax, maybe enjoy the beach or any of the hundreds of good restaurants around here.

She is obviously not sane.

-/-

“Oh my God,” Emma grumbles as she strips out of her jean shorts, kicking them to the ground before unbuttoning her shirt. “I’m so tired of people.”

“I’m people,” Ruby says. “Nice bra, by the way. The girls look great.”

Emma rolls her eyes, but she does glance down at her boobs and hike them up a bit. They do look great today. “Shut up.” Emma picks up the black dress she has to wear at the country club and slips it over her shoulders. “You know I’m not tired of you.”

“That’s because you’ve barely seen me.”

“Busy. I’m busy. I work way too much. Speaking of that, why the hell aren’t you at work?”

Ruby stands from her couch and grabs her name tag from the end table. “I’m in between shifts. Granny’s in charge downstairs. I have a five-second commute to work, unlike you. Why are you changing here again?”

“Don’t want to run into any of the people at my house.” Emma smooths her dress and turns to Ruby’s mirror to reapply lipstick and put on some mascara. She’s got to wash her hair tomorrow. It’s hanging by on a thread today, if that thread is a little greasy and has a hell of a lot of dry shampoo in it. “But don’t worry, tomorrow, I will be out of your hair as they will soon be out of mine.”

“You know I’m always fine with you being in my business. Mary Margaret and David are coming here for dinner tonight. Any chance you can slip away?”

Emma finishes another coat of mascara. “Can’t. Working until past closing and then heading straight home to sleep in my house of strangers.”

Ruby laughs, carefree as always, and for a moment, the jealousy stings. Ruby has plenty of her own shit going on, but she always handles it with such ease. She’s the most carefree person Emma has ever met, and Emma can’t imagine living like that without way too much alcohol in her system.

“I told you that you could stay with me this week. Have I ever said it’s batshit crazy that they come to visit and are okay with you still staying there? Because that is batshit crazy.”

Emma shrugs and pulls back to take in her appearance. This is as good as it’s going to get. She doesn’t think she’ll be using her looks to get her any tips tonight, which is a crying shame since that’s half the reason she took this job in the first place. She knows exactly how to charm some of the older men into giving her more money by flirting a little, and she’s not ashamed that she has to give away her dignity to do it. She had to hire a dinner-shift manager at the Blue Dog because she was doing the work of two people with the pay of one. Now she’s doing the work of five people with the pay and of one and half people, so obviously she’s winning at life.

“I’m never there, and they seem like good people. I think they’re just glad I actually maintain the place and am slowly but surely getting through some of the renovations.” Emma looks at her hair again and ties it up in a ponytail with the elastic from her wrist. “Any way you can make me a grilled cheese to go?”

“Only if you agree to go to a bar with all of us sometime in the next month.”

“Yeah, fine. Whatever you want.”

God, she hopes Ruby doesn’t remember this conversation. The last thing she wants to do right now is go out with her friends and then end up sitting alone as they all make out with their partners and leave without telling Emma goodbye.

Actually, the last thing she wants to do is go to work again today, but here she goes.

-/-

Emma quietly turns the key in her front door. She saw that the kitchen light was still on from the street, and while the Fishers likely just forgot to turn it off, she doesn’t want to run the risk of seeing them tonight. It’s their last night here, so she only has to make it through one or two more awkward conversations before she has the house to herself. It’ll be just her and the creaky floors. She can collapse on the couch in her dress instead of having to walk all the way up the stairs and make it to her bedroom like a responsible adult.

In another world, Emma would like to own a house like this. It’s charming. That’s the best way to describe it. It’s two floors, three bedrooms, has bay windows and built-in bookshelves, and the cabinets in the kitchen are a light green. She likes that it’s not cookie cutter white all the way around like some of the nicer houses around here. It has character, and though there are a few things she’d change beyond the needed repairs she does for the Fishers, it’s got good bones. Plus, the location is fantastic, and the backyard is spacious. It allows Emma to spend time in the sun without being stuck on a crowded beach or near a busy dock.

But this is not another world, and Emma could never afford a house this close to the coastline. She’s got no idea why she still lives here. Well, that’s not true, she knows exactly why she still lives here, and it’d be possible for her to pick up and move inland toward Boston. She just…she can’t. She’s been here for ten years after leaving her last foster home in Brockton, and it’s been a comfortable reprieve. She’s got her friends and her job(s), and even though she’s got years of hospitality experience, there’s no guarantee someone like her with a GED can get a job this well-paying and accommodating somewhere else. Plus, her housing is almost free, and she really can’t pass that up.

It all comes back to the house, which she’s dreading going into now no matter how much she wants to collapse onto her bed.

(Or the couch. She really misses the couch. It’s the best for napping.)

Emma steps inside, avoiding the places that make the floor groan, but it’s impossible to dodge them all. She tenses, then hurries across the living room toward the stairs, only turning to the opening to the kitchen at the last minute.

“Holy fuck,” Emma gasps, dropping her purse. It hits the ground in a gentle thud, her keys spilling out and clacking along the floor.

“Didn’t mean to scare you there, Swan.”

Emma’s breath hitches as she realizes who it is sitting at her kitchen table.

Killian…whatever his last name is. She’s got no clue and doesn’t care to ask. What she does want to know is why he’s sitting here alone at two in the morning like a fucking serial killer.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

He takes a sip of his drink, coffee she thinks from the smell, and leans back in the chair, the front legs tipping up with him. “Getting sober so I can drive home. Had two drinks with dinner, and it appears I’ve become a bit of a lightweight.”

“Don’t drink much then? I thought all you Brits liked going to the pub.”

He laughs, smile bright against the black of his stubble despite her poor attempt at his accent. “We do, but not so much me anymore. Trying to cut back.”

“Yeah, I get that.” She leans down to pick up her bag, grabbing her keys and tossing them back in. “I also get that we have Uber here. You might want to try that the next time you have a little too much to drink. You look like a murderer sitting in my kitchen like this.”

“It was two glasses of rum, nothing excessive. Wishing Ariel and Eric well before they leave in the morning.” He leans forward, the chair landing on all four legs, and downs the rest of his mug. “I don’t make a habit of drinking too much.”

“I don’t care what you do in your personal time. Just don’t make a mess in my house…or your friends’ house, I guess. And sleep on the couch if you want. There are blankets in the basket.”

She doesn’t know why she’s offering him the couch. She should be making him leave. Her heart is still leaping out of her chest from him scaring her, and even though this has been her home for years, she technically can’t ask him to leave. In reality, Ariel has probably offered him the couch already.

What a long day.

She wants it to be over.

“That’s surprisingly kind of you.”

Emma’s step falters, and while she was turning away from the man, she decides to turn back and narrow her eyes. What the hell is that supposed to mean? “I guess I’m full of surprises for men who don’t know me.”

“Just who are you then, Swan?” he asks, standing from the chair and putting his mug in the sink, turning the faucet on while never losing eye contact.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Perhaps I would.”

A shiver runs down Emma’s spine, but she ignores it and walks up the stairs. This is a weird week, one she doesn’t want to repeat, and the last thing she needs is to spend too much time with a man who thinks he can charm his way into anything with a few smooth words and a smile. She’s been around enough men like that in her lifetime, but it doesn’t matter with him. Tomorrow, he’ll be gone with Eric and Ariel, and she’ll be back to being able to walk around her house without pants whenever she wants.

Tomorrow, this weird as hell week will be over, and she’ll be back to normal…mostly.

-/-

-/-

Tag list: @qualitycoffeethings @marrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @elizabeethan @jrob64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @galadriel26 @galaxyzxstark @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo @captain-emmajones @ilovemesomekillianjones @taylrsversion​ @dramioneswan​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​

[district2001]

Leader Maknae Date

Seventeen AU: 14th member

Jangmi x Seventeen (mainly Coups)

Recap: When Seungcheol whisks Jangmi away from practice to ask her a very important question

Words: 2k

Requests are OPEN: Please please please send me what you want to see from Jangmi. I’m also open to feedback :)

Jangmi’s Masterlist

“I swear to god if Hoshi Oppa makes us go through the dance one more time, I’m going to die.” Jangmi complained, as she flopped on the floor in the dance studio.

“If he starts complaining about how our jumping isn’t the same height, I will personally take one for the team and murder him.” Seungkwan agreed.

“You know I can hear you right?” Hoshi yelled from the speakers. Jangmi snickered, praying that he wouldn’t play their song again.

She loved the song, and thought Woozi had done a phenomenal job with it. Apparently the staff weren’t too thrilled though, hoping for something darker. But leader line had backed him up, with Hoshi calling the song ‘pop perfection.’

Her favourite section was her interchanging rap part with S.Coups, where the contrast in their tones was noticeable, yet blended together really well. Plus the dynamic of the maknae with the eldest would look quite cool in the music video.

She reached over towards her bag and grabbed her drink bottle. The room temperature water wasn’t the greatest thing to drink, but she was so thirsty she would probably have Minghao’s hot water without complaint.

After she emptied her bottle, Jangmi lay on top of her bag, closing her eyes to get some rest. She knew debuting would be hard, much harder than being a trainee, but she was exhausted. Between online school, group dancing lessons, private dancing lessons, rap lessons, song writing sessions, recording sessions… the list was never ending. She was barely getting 5 hours of sleep a day, and she needed as much as she could get to grow. She’d made a bet with Dino that she’d grow taller than Woozi, and she wasn’t willing to admit to defeat.

Her short nap was interrupted by someone clearing their voice above her. Opening one eye, she saw S.Coups newly dyed blonde hair looking over her.

“5 more minutes.” She whined, closing her eyes again.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

She opened both her eyes this time in confusion of why he was using his leader tone with her.

“Uhh. Yeah. Sure” She sat up, stretching out her hand. Seungcheol grabbed it, and pulled her up to her feet.

“I was thinking we could go grab a coffee?” Seungcheol asked as they walked out the practise room.

Jangmi didn’t know what he wanted to talk to her about, but she had a feeling it was serious, seeing the way he was avoiding her eyes.

“Yes of course.” She replied, fidgeting with her fingers.

They walked to the café in silence, with both of them trying to break it by trying to start a conversation, only for it to die down within a minute.

She was very aware that some bad news was going to be given to her at the café, and was mentally preparing her reaction in case he told her that she’d have to leave Seventeen.

Once they arrived at the café, Seungcheol had asked her to take a seat whilst he placed their order. She asked him for a water, and when he questioned her terrible choice, she explained that it was healthy and free.

While waiting for him to come back, she started playing around with the ring on her finger, a new unconscious habit she had adopted after being given the ring a few days ago. No formal ceremony, a staff member had just dropped it off in the middle of her dance practise with Jun.

She was brought out of her thoughts with Seungcheol plopping down the 2 drinks on the table- 1 lemonade and 1 chocolate Frappuccino. She raised her eyebrows at her leader, who smirked and placed the straw of the lemonade in his mouth. “Eunwoo said this was your favourite drink.”

Jangmi tried to hide her smile, knowing very well that she was not doing a good job.

She took a sip of her Frappé, before setting it down on the table. She knew he was trying to butter her up before breaking the bad news, but she wanted to hear it outright. Not sugar-coated in chocolate goodness.

“Is it ok if I ask you something?” Seungcheol asked tentatively.

“Of course.” Jangmi nervously smiled.

He cleared his throat again, before continuing. “How’s everything?”

Jangmi narrowed her eyes, “everything?”

“You know…” he signalled with his hands, “everything.”

“Good.” She nodded, waiting for him to continue speaking.

“Come on Jangmi, you’ve got to give me more than that.”

She chuckled, happy this awkward tension between them was slowly dissipating.

“It’s been good though. Honestly. It’s a lot of hard work, and I don’t think I can feel my feet at all right now. But it’s been fun. I’m learning a lot.” She smiled politely before adding “thank you for the opportunity.”

“Stop being so polite with me. Let’s go back to how we were before.” Seungcheol dismissed, taking another sip of his lemonade.

“How were we before exactly?” Jangmi cocked her head to the side, waiting for his response. Sure, she had spoken to him during her visits every holiday, but they hadn’t really spent much time together- and never one on one. There was no need to. He was busy leading the boys to debut, whilst she was just a random trainee who kept popping up every few months.

“I don’t know.” He struggled. “Not this awkward for sure.” They both giggled, glad that they both were acknowledging the tense atmosphere.

“Seriously though, I’m really enjoying working with you all. Plus you guys are so talented. Legit. Did you see Minghao’s freestyle dance the other day. I didn’t even think it was possible to be that flexible.”

Seungcheol chuckled, taking another sip of his drink.

“Don’t get me started on the vocals of this team. I heard Seungkwan and Seokmin singing the other day and I was mind blown. And then I found out that they were only messing around. How can they seriously be that good when they are taking the piss out of it.”

“Glad to know you think the team is talented!”

Jangmi smiled, “Of course you guys are. That’s why you’re debuting.”

“Why we’re debuting” Seungcheol corrected.

“Oh right! I’m sorry.” Jangmi bowed again, causing Seungcheol to get up slightly and smack her head.

She faked a pout and took another sip of her drink.

“Is everyone treating you well?”

She nodded. “Yeah. You don’t need to worry. I was friends with most of them before anyway.”

Seungcheol hummed before talking again. “I definitely think you transitioned well. Although, I feel slightly bad for stealing you away from Sungyeon. I saw her the other day and she told me that if any one of us made you upset, she’d come and hurt us.”

“She’s just very overprotective.” Jangmi giggled. She had been so busy with catching up that she barely had seen Sungyeon over the last few weeks. She missed her best friend. Maybe they could go out and get some food together. Well, Sungyeon could eat food whilst Jangmi would be stuck eating salad.

“Well, now you’ve got 13 more people to protect you.”

“I can protect myself, thank you very much.” Jangmi sassed back, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Somehow I don’t believe that.”

Jangmi leaned over the table. “Is it because I’m a girl.”

Seungcheol leaned over aswell, looking directly into her eyes. “No, it’s because you ran out of the recording booth the other day after seeing the cockroach.”

Jangmi’s eyes widened. “How’d you-”

“Sungyeon told me.” He smirked, whilst moving Jangmis’ glass away from her elbows. It was a disaster waiting to happen.

Jangmi leaned back into her seat in defeat, crossing her arms.

“Stop pouting. That’s my thing.”

“I’m the maknae, I can pout as much as I want.”

“You’re such a child”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Do you always talk to your elders with such attitude?”

“Not the ones I respect.”

‘Ya!” Seungcheol raised his voice, before realising that he had perhaps spoken too loudly in the café.

Jangmi shone her victory smile, and grabbed her drink off the table.

“Is there any reason you asked to hang out with me?” She asked. After their little banter session, she was starting to doubt that she would be leaving the band. Her leader was too relaxed.

“I was getting to that”

“Well, today would be nice, considering we have more dance lessons in 20 minutes.”

“Oh shit!” Seungcheol jumped up from his seat. “Grab your drink, and we can talk the way back.”

Jangmi nodded, before following him out the door. Stopping to yell ‘thank you’ to the staff.

Walking back to the Pledis building, Jangmi noticed how the sun was starting to set. She would have stopped to take a picture, and send it back to her parents, but Cheol started talking at that moment.

“I just wanted to take this opportunity for you to tell me if you were unhappy.” Jangmi looked at him in confusion.

“Like if anyone was making you uncomfortable, or if you were having trouble fitting in. I don’t know you well enough to read your mind, and Vernon said that you’re pretty reserved, like him, so I just wanted to make sure. Even if some members take longer to warm up to you, they will eventually.” She looked over to him and smiled.

Taking that as a sign of reassurance, Seungcheol continued. “I just wanted you to know that it might take a little while for you to feel completely at home. Or as homely as one can feel when they’re literally on the opposite side of the world from their friends and their family. I feel homesick sometimes, even when my home’s just a few hours from here.”

“If anyone mistreats you for being in our team, by talking shit about you let me know, or any of the other members. Seriously. We all look out for each other. And I know it’ll take some getting used to, but you deserved a spot on this team. I’m not just saying it as a leader, but as a friend. And hopefully soon you’ll think of me as an older brother. I overheard you telling Jihoon how you’re an only child aswell. This team is more like a fami-”

Seungcheol abruptly stopped mid-sentence when he realised Jangmi wasn’t walking beside him.

He quickly turned around, and let out a sigh of relief when he saw she was only a couple of metres behind him, wearing a massive smile on her cheeks.

“What?” He asked, genuinely confused to why she had stopped walking. Considering she was the one who reminded him of rehearsal.

“Do you really mean that?” she asked so quietly, that he could barely make out her question. He walked over to her and pulled her into a hug, “of course.”

Jangmi smiled into his chest. She had brothers.

Previous: First Official Meeting

Next: Debut.

[animusharmonia]

At about the beginning of last school year, I began logging the random stuff I’ve heard or seen around the wonder that is high school. Admittedly, some of this contains some of my shenanigans, because who am I going to pay more attention to other than myself. Writing every single thing all at once would take a while (the document I’ve been using is nearly to 16 pages as of now), so this is just a collection of some of what I deem funnier or more bizarre. 

Class split into groups of 4. The four Asian kids teamed up. The one guy of the group whispered “Asian Invasion” 

The manga section of the school library had two volumes of yaoi

The manga section of the school library being mixed in with the comic section

The comic and manga section of the school library being in the middle of the non-fiction area because “its cultural”

“I can’t reach the top shelf in my house, and who’s going to help me there? My dog? I don’t think so.” 

“Wow! That’s so cool! I don’t care, I might tomorrow. No, wait! It’s Saturday!”

“This one is fancy heels, this one is fancy pants”

“Wait, it’s a different Louis?” “There are a lot of Louii”

“And then the guillotine was too slow, so they shot them instead” “...okay”

“This is due Thursday, right? Let’s discuss who’s doing what slide and leave it at that because yay, procrastination”

The Latin teacher teaching us how to say “Go to hell” in Latin when she told a story about someone in the Latin 3 class having asked what the phrase in question from one of their books meant

The radio was playing music over the gymnasium. My Immortal came on. “I’m so tired of being here” “Hah, same”

“Everyone knows what a coup d'etat is, right?”

We got the majority of the class

“An overthrowing by the military”

And we got this kid

“It sounds like something from Lion King”

“???”

Someone said “Coup d’etat” slowly, to the tuneish of “Hakuna matata”

The realization and understanding dawning across the class

Waiting in those minutes for class to end, a few people sat there quietly singing Hakuna Matata

“A coup d’etat-ta, what a wonderful thing”

“And this guy was like “Hell yeah, we want change…””

“Probably using different words”

“Well yeah, he used French”

“Is that a lacrosse ball?” “Yeah” “We’re in theater, how the fuck did you get that?”

One girl sitting on one of the plastic desk chairs with her knees to her chest, calmly eating a salad as she participated in the class discussion

One girl dislocated her arm in sports and, instead of keeping it in a sling, got this exoskeleton thing made to keep her arm at a 90 degree angle. She was way too excited to discover it was at a perfect angle for dabbing.

“I swear, if we have a pop quiz in that class I’m going to cry. Or kill a man. I can’t tell which anymore”

One girl all but sprinting down the hall as she let out some low shrieking noise, only stopping when she got to her friend’s side and leaned far enough in front of him to make eye contact.

“I was doing, like, six things at once and thought ‘What if the building fell right now? I would get nothing done.’ Because hey, it’s the end of the year, I got all this stuff to do, and it would be really inconvenient.”

One guy had a table in the lobby and stood, roll of tinfoil in hand and tinfoil hat on head, yelling about the Illuminati, aliens, and government. He was passing out tinfoil hats to anyone who wanted them

Someone walked into my Latin class wearing one and magistra asked if the guy was talking about the “Alluminati” instead of the Illuminati

One girl’s promposal where she called out the other girl’s name to get her attention as one friend to her right began playing “Never gonna give you up” and the friend to the right held roses. The sign she held read “It would meme a lot if you went to prom with me” in large shiny foil letters, meme in purple as opposed to the gold of the others, and a pepe in the bottom right corner. It was adorable.

“I nearly got a detention for reading in reading class. I was tempted to continue just for when people asked me what I was in for”

On a Latin test, there was a section where you were given 7 names and you had to give a fact about 5 of them. For Vulcan, the Roman god of fire, someone put “A species of alien that appears in the series Star Trek” and he got a point for that.

A girl put “Got a Yugioh card named after him” in small font for Regulus, but filled in 5 others seriously

One girl who is Very Passionate about Yugioh

The teacher was making hand gestures as he spoke. He paused in gestures with his hand outstretched, still addressing the class, and the person sitting right beside him reached out and gave him a high-five

The guy who gave him the high-five had hacked his (the history teacher’s) computer earlier that year

The common “Final” for jazz band is that the teacher brings in Rock Band and they play that

“I’m amazed, you can hear the lack of brain cells”

One meme of a girl wrote “I’M SCHLEEP” on the whiteboard in band. She took a picture of it and walked away satisfied with herself. A few minutes later, the band director piped up from the back of the room. “Hey, Ashley? What does ‘schleep’ mean?” “I dunno”

Someone hiking up their shorts to the length of girls’ shorts, pulling his shirt down so you can’t see them, and Naruto running a circle around the room

Due to state testing, classes were shortened. On the day of the final band concert, those involved went to their first three classed but remained in third (concert band. Those from wind ensemble were pulled in as well) and lurked there for the rest of the day to practice. Pizza was ordered and soda was brought for a celebration of sorts. The 32 pizzas ordered were emptied within around half an hour.

A group of three girls and two guys. The third girl declared herself the fifth wheel of the group, staring tiredly at the two couples.

She didn’t really seem to care, though, and generally could be found latched onto one of her friend’s arms. Both the friend and friend’s boyfriend didn’t really seem to care either.

The other couple, meanwhile, was fluent in innuendos and suggestive comments that tended to scare away the asexual fifth wheel.

“Freshmen, do not climb into the trash cans, thank you.”

One girl convinced some guy in class that Inside Out ends with the girl dying

“That’s not possible.” “It’s magic, shut up.”

“Why is the final cumulative? I can’t remember shit.”

One girl’s realization that graduation was the following day (seniors have been out for well over a week, it’s hard to tell) and the complaint at how “WE HAVE TO PLAY AT THE FREAKING THING, WHY DOES NOBODY TELL ME THESE THINGS?!”

One kid brought in wasabi candy. He offered some to his table mate before telling him what it was. He ate the offered treat with hesitance and a shrug, but the underlying regret was visible before long.

“I hope you know my scoliosis doesn’t like you.”

Some people (4 or 5?) in the corner of the room, taking the Rice Purity test and comparing answers

Apparently the sole girl of the group had the worst score

A math teacher who doubled as the theater director had his yearbook picture taken in a ghillie suit

The ghillie suits had been gotten for the production of Little Shop of Horrors the year prior

“I love getting stepped on!”

Someone was complaining about how their hair looked bad. Our teacher just “Yeah, tell me about it,” gesturing to his own balding head

One of the freshmen band kids after graduation reverently whispering “You’re free” to every graduate they passed

For graduation, all of the people of the band and choir were wearing muted colors - whites, blacks, pale blues, soft floral patterns, etc. - and then we have one cackling flutist in fluorescent orange

“If Kim Kardashian doesn’t feel ashamed, neither should you” - the fucking valedictorian speech

It contained other golden moments such as “I got to work with some of these students due to my participation in The King and I,” (Note: he was the king) “and one of them said something profound that stuck with me. He beckoned me closer and made me lean down and he whispered in my ear… “yolo.” Now, according to Urban Dictionary, yolo is “a term that should have stopped being used five years ago and means You only live once””

He kept looping back to yolo. “What does yolo mean to you”

Next day some of us from the musical had been talking about that the next day. The collective statement was “Hudson. That was Hudson”

“We were the first class to take keystones, and the last generation to not get touchscreen laptops. What a time to be alive!”

The “corner crew” of Latin class (the people who had taken the Rice Purity test) decided to get a group picture with the teacher. One person in the group is my book-nerd friend who had been placed there by the teacher in an attempt to break up their antics (it didn’t work, they absorbed him, much to his exasperation). My friend is the smallest out of the group, so they decided to pick him up. The picture was taken with “Te Amo, Latin” written on the board behind them, my friend held aloft horizontally, and magistra slightly crouched in front of the group with an unsure smile.

The corner crew also had done a presentation on how Canada is just a government conspiracy and also the government is run by shape shifting lizards

“Did you really assign a project? Mr [Last name], I am appalled! There are four days left in school”

It was a 6 prompt essay. All prompts had to be answered with proper sources and everything.

That got a lot longer than intended, so I only covered the happenings of last year (still 6.5 pages of nearly 16)...