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artxyra · 5 years ago

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What if Damian and the miraculous class are friends and they have movie nights, but since Damian is in Gotham he sneaks out of the manor and portal via Max & Kalki to participate. The Fam get suspicious and try to figure out where Damian is going every week. When they find out he goes to Paris they try to follow him but the portal closes and they use the tubes instead. They end up crashing in on them watching a horror movie which freaks the class out. Insert yelling and things being thrown.

To: Demon From: Angel

Are we still on for movie night?

To: Angel From: Demon

Yes. Just need to get away from the family.

To: Demon From: Angel

😀

Marinette looks over smiling from her phone. Today is a good day. There were no akuma that needed Ladybug’s attention, nor had she broken up a fight between Max and Kim about the latest game. So yes, she was ecstatic to know this is how her day is going.

“Hey Mars, is Damian coming tonight?” Adrien asks seating next to her playing with a strand of his hair. Ever since he came out to her, their relationship has blossomed beyond a crush to a blooming brother-sister relationship. That and Luka were more than willing to take on the blonde without a second thought. She kind of feels bad for Juleka having to see Adrien on a near-daily basis and with her brother no doubt.

“Yup,” Marinette continues to smile, “I just received word that he’s good to go. All we need is for Kaalki and Max to open up a portal at the designated time.”

“Sweet, I hear that Kim was the one picking out this week’s movie. I hope it’s nothing horror-related.” Adrien pouts causing Marinette to laugh that the poor kitty’s face.

“I’m sure it’s nothing too crazy.” Marinette hopes that it was something simple to follow and an action pack rather than horror. She may love horror games but kwami be damn if she watches a horror movie in the dark that wasn’t comedic.

“It looks like break is almost over, we’ll continue you this later.” Adrien sends Marinette a comforting smile before jumping down into his assigned seat next to Nino. Alya and Nino just walked in holding hands.

“Hey, lovebirds, who’s ready for a night full of fun?” Alya greets the two causing them to roll their eyes at the nickname that no longer pertains to them.

“Hey Als, I should be asking you that instead.” Marinette lifts an eyebrow that accompanies her smirk. Nino and Alya’s faces turn red and they side glance each other. Marinette and Adrien laugh at the couple.

“After class, I’ll be giving a quick speech regarding tonight’s plans,” Marinette states pulling out her classwork and books for class. They all nod in understanding. Just then the rest of the class filed in with matching smiles and asking pertaining to tonight’s activities.

To: Angel From: Demon

Save me from the idiots that I call my brothers?

To: Demon From: Angel

Can’t love, I’m sure it not that bad.

To: Angel From: Demon

For some idiotic reason, they are watching me like a hawk today. I’m currently in the bathroom with the doors locked listening to them bicker outside.

To: Demon From: Angel

Yikes 😬. I’m sure it will die down before you’re required to leave.

To: Angel From: Demon

I doubt that.

To: Demon From: Angel

About that, why did we move our weekly movie night from Saturday to Friday?

To: Angel From: Demon

It’s a half-day at school.

Shit. Talk to you later.

Marinette places her phone down and slowly turns her attention to Mme. Bustier. The red-haired teacher tried to keep her students engaged with the content, but she was losing them faster than on average. Marinette turns to her classmates. Alix and Kim were trying to out strength each other, Juleka and Rose was trying to pay attention but the drooping in Rose’s eyes say otherwise, Sabrina and Chloe—well doing what they usually do—living in their own bubble, Nathaniel was sketching something down in his notebook while Max was pretending to take notes as Markov does it for him. Finally, Mylene and Ivan were also in their own world.

Hours seemed to past in Marinette’s mind before Mme. Bustier concluded today’s lesson. She was so caught up in watching the time that she didn’t realize that was sketching an outfit in her own notebook. Whoops.

“Marinette is there something you would like to add?” Mme. Bustier prompts sending the class’s designated designer a smile.

“Yes,” Marinette gets up from her seat and walks down to the podium. “Tonight is our weekly movie night instead of tomorrow. Do you remember what to bring? If not, please message me before the event. Remember that we are having this event at Chloe’s family’s hotel as it a makeshift theatre room.”

“Daddy says we can have the popcorn maker also.” Chloe interrupts. The class cheers at the thought of the infamous popcorn maker that was usually locked behind the hotel kitchen doors.

“Thank you, Bee, for that tidbit. Now, Max, you are to arrive at the bakery no later than six o’clock. The demon is having a half-day today and I’m ninety-nine percent sure that he’ll want to be here no later than that. Everyone else, you are free to do.” With that and a pretend gavel, Marinette dismisses the class to their next class for the day.

For Damian, being at school felt like a blessing even if it was a half-day. His brothers have been hounding him all morning. It’s like they are looking for something that isn’t there. Damian’s emotions? Yeah right, they all know he only shows emotions to his beloved animals or animals in general. Damian had to double, triple check the security on his phones because who knows what Drake would find if he had access inside it.

For over six months, he had been going to Paris for movie nights with his beloved and her classmates. At first, he had done it through the zeta tubes but after gaining their trust just enough to be in on the Miraculous Team of Paris, his trips became a lot more frequent. He would make up an excuse about going to a classmate, or Jon’s, house for the night, or to work on a school project. He had gotten away with it for a while, but Tim was the first to notice the lie.

Tim and Conner were having their usually meet up when the Damian had told his family that he was spending time at Jon’s, something that was no unusual. All was fine and dandy until Jon came home with a Damian Wayne. Tim, well it was mainly Dick, had grilled into the young hero about Damian’s whereabouts. Jon either lied or literally had no idea. Which prompted the Batbros to start the search on Damian's weekly disappearance.

Everyone took the day off to “spend time” with Damian. They wanted to trap the teen inside the manor and watch his every movement. Like that isn’t an invasion of privacy or trust.

Alfred brought Damian to the manor around noon. This gives them enough time to hide any open-source of weaponry they could find or items that Damian could use against them in battle. That was a lot of items on the list. Dick inquired for Bruce to hold off on the tracking device as a last resort. He wanted to start everything out with a discussion, but Jason laughs that idea out the window as he cleans his guns.

“The young master is residing in his bedroom,” Alfred speaks walking down into the Batcave.

The Wayne family knew this was it.

To: Angel From: Demon

I’m ready.

To: Demon From: Angel

ETA in 5

Damian smirks at his phone. He loves his girlfriend and how quickly she can manage an entire group of classmates and plan a weekly movie night event.

He had packed his belonging that he usually brings with him when he does to Paris. Which isn’t much.

Four minutes.

Damian thought his ears were playing tricks on him, but they weren’t. He could hear the stampede of footsteps that were no doubt from his family members aside from Alfred. Alfred’s footsteps are like a ghost, you never hear them.

Three minutes.

“Hey little D, since you had a half-day today, why don’t you spend it with us,” Grayson asks the second his bedroom door swings open. Alfred the cat sends a glare to his owner’s family.

“Yeah, Demon spawn, we all took the day off to spend time with you,” Jason adds gas to the fire that was already burning intensely.

“Damian…” Not his father too.

Two minutes.

Damian doesn’t say a word. His eyes bounce from one person to the next and repeat. He didn’t know who to answer them. “Tt.” Was the only word? Sound? That had escaped his lips.

“You need to leave like now.” Damian refuses to have his family find out the very secret he had kept hidden for so long. His quick need for them leaving only pushes them to stay. Worried about various reasons from teen problems to joining the League of Assassins again. They didn’t want to take any chances.

One minute.

Damian could sense the user of the horse kwami becoming active. Soon a blue swirling portal opens up behind Damian. Damian looks at his family and side glances at the portal. The portal wins. The family of vigilantes runs to the portal only for it to close.

“Am I hallucinating or did that just happen?” Tim asks wiping the sleep away from his eyes.

“No, replacement, that really just happened.” Jason states. Tim nods in understanding.

“I’ll do track him down.” Dick sulks at the thought that Bruce was right.

It didn’t take long for the results to come in.

“Uh…so how the hell is the Demon in Paris, France of all places?” Jason shouts from behind his older brother and Bruce.

“The swirling portal thingy?” Tim states the obvious, but it sounded more like a question as he sits down and drinks a cup of coffee.

“Boys we’re going to Paris.” Bruce states over his sons. From afar, Alfred sighs and goes to prepare the zeta tubes with the destination in mind.

“Uh, civvies or uniform?” Dick asks as they all start to make their way to the zeta tube. This was one of those questions that they linger on for a hot minute.

Before they knew it, Damian had gained an hour over his family.

“It doesn’t matter, we need to know where the little demon has been hiding all this time.” Jason screeches talking over to the zeta tube and teleporting to the location.

Bruce turns to the remainder of his sons who shrugged and follow suit.

Entering Paris, they were further from Damian’s location than anticipated. They follow the tracker with some interruptions. Dick wanted to buy something for Kori, Jason wanted food and Tim needed for coffee. After all that was done, they officially made it to the supposed location of Damian’s whereabouts.

“Why would the little demon at a hotel?”

“Hum, this coffee is really good,” Tim says before taking another sip.

“Boys, focus on the mission.”

“I am focus, Bruce.”

“I didn’t say you were, Dick.”

“Touché.” Dick rubs the back of his arm.

They enter Le Grand Paris with tensions high and were surprised by how calm and relax the employees were. Jason swears this was just a hoax and they were torturing Damian behind one of these doors. An employee asks them if they are in need of anything. Bruce states that they were looking for his son.

“Is he friends with Chloe and her classmates?” The employee asks.

“Who?” Dick and Bruce ask simultaneously. Jason had dragged Tim off somewhere to look at some things.

The employee eyes the family skeptically.

“Well if he’s not friends with Mlle. Bourgeois, then I suggest heading to the police department and report a missing child.” The employee states before walking away. Bruce sighs and pulls out the tracking device. Damian is so close to them.

“We’re going to find him, right?”

“And drag the brat back to Gotham?”

Bruce in the direction that would be location, he gestures for his children to follow.

Damian was having a blast. In his arms, Marinette sat on his arm clinging to his shirt cursing Kim’s name throughout the film. Kim had chosen a horror movie for tonight’s showing and by kwami it was fantastic. There was no comedic relief, actual horror storytelling leaving the class on the edge of their seats.

Adrien was curled next to Marinette in Luka’s arms. He was also clinging to a body, a certain musician as if he was a frightened kitten.

Just as the MC was about to open the door to the attic, a series of figures jump from the ceiling. Screams in real-life match those within the movie. Popcorn, empty cartons of candy, soda drinks are thrown at the figures. A string of curses follows not long after that.

“Damian, tell your friends to stop.” He knows that voice from anywhere, it was Grayson’s voice. Marinette slides herself off himself.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He screeches in English. Most of the class didn’t have a clue what was being said.

“We wanted to see where you were?”

“We thought you were kidnapped?”

“I just came for the scenery.”

Damian’s eyes twitch.

“That’s nice and all, but can you move? We’re trying to watch a movie here and you’re ruining it.” Chloe stands up demanding the bat-family to move. They all look to one another before subtly moving away from the screen.

Damian places a quick kiss on Marinette’s cheek and guides his family out of the room. He was not happy that they came in ruining his night with Marinette. Now he has to make up for it with something romantic, not that he’ll do it anyway.

“What made you believe that I was kidnapped?” He asks, the second they were out of the room.

“The portal thingy.”

“You not answering any of our questions.”

Damian breathes through his nose. “You’re all idiots.”

“Well movie night is a bust, but we all agree to stay here to continue rather than going home.” Marinette walks into the hall after a moment of them talking—well it was more of a screaming match between Bruce and Damian with some input from Dick. “Will your family be fine without you for a couple more hours?”

“Habibti, these dunces are my family,” Damian states gesturing to his family,

Marinette nods, “Well then, hello, and can we keep Damian for the night?”

Damian walks over to Marinette and wraps his arms around her. “I’ll return from before it’s nightfall in Gotham, father.”

“Uh, sure. Boys lets go.” Bruce accepts the came and walks down the hall. Before either of the brothers could pester Damian about this newfound relationship, Bruce gave them all the bat-glare and demanded that they follow.

“You know you’re going to get pestered, right.” Marinette laughs.

“Don’t remind me.”

“Come on, we have a movie to finish.”

With that, Damian takes Marinette’s hand and walks back into the room.

Tag List: *View my Tagging System guidelines for how to to be properly tagged or removed.

#maribat #mlb x dc #ml x dc #ml crossover #dc crossover #daminette

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mochascafe · 4 years ago

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advice for incoming high school freshmen

1. this is when your grades start to really matter. every homework assignment, quiz, and exam counts toward your final GPA as a high school student. your GPA is extremely important for college applications and class rank, so do NOT slack off — do all your homework, study for all tests, and pay attention during class.

2. try not to skip class! skipping one day or even one class can set you far behind. you could have lots of classwork to make up, so if you ever have to miss class, make sure you tell your teacher(s) ahead of time. this shows that you care about their class, and they might even excuse you from the classwork or give you extra time to complete it.

3. it’s okay to get a bad grade once in a while. even if it’s on a big test or project. some teachers may allow you to retake a test or assign extra credit. most teachers want you to succeed in their class, so just ask them for ways to make up your unsatisfactory grade during office hours. however, it’s best to avoid doing this for old assignments/tests the week before grades get finalized as it will give your teachers the impression that all you care about is your GPA. dm me (@threadlemons) for an email template you can use if you’re looking to improve your grade near the end of the semester though :)

4. join clubs you're interested in. during the school year, stay in the ones you enjoy and leave ones you dislike. at the end of the year, you should be actively involved in 1-3 clubs. participating in clubs can help you make new friends with similar interests, improve communication skills, and teach you how to work effectively with others!

5. do not procrastinate too much on assignments, especially the ones that are a big part of your grade. you’ll feel more and more stressed as the due date approaches and could end up submitting low quality work

6. be prepared. high school is so much harder than middle school. you'll have more work to do and classes will become more difficult. it'll take some time to adjust, and that’s okay. something important i’ve learned during my freshman year is to never slack off on any assignments. (i once turned in an assignment worth only 15 points, but it brought my grade down from a 93% to a 89%. i ended the school year with a B in that class because of that one assignment)

7. know your schedule and find out where each of your classes are located. this way you won’t get lost as easily on the first day.

8. get involved in the sport you like. it's easier to make the team freshman year and improve than waiting until sophomore year when tryouts are harder. if you're not interested in a sport, that's alright too! not everyone is athletic, we’re all good at different things.

9. that being said, do not prioritize sports or other extracurriculars over your grades.

10. be nice to your teachers. keep in mind respect should go both ways!

11. do not stand in the middle of the hallway to talk to your friends or walk slowly. it's annoying and people might even push you.

12. always have headphones, extra pencils, and a charger on you

13. be kind to everyone. don’t start drama. hating on others is unnecessary. they probably won’t be in your life for a long time anyway.

14. popularity is not important. it means nothing after you graduate, so just know who your true friends are. quality over quantity.

15. do your homework asap. don’t wait until 8 pm to start. also, doing homework from time to time over the weekend will make sunday evening a lot less stressful

16. there will be bad days. days when you feel like you can’t get out of bed. days when it seems like stress is the only thing you’re feeling. days when you just want to give up. but you have to fight through it. have a cup of tea. reread that old book you love. rewatch one of your favorite movies/shows. take a break and try to relax. time heals almost everything, it’ll all turn out fine.

#high school advice #high school

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deathonyourtongue · 4 years ago

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Proud of You

Summary: Your hard work doesn’t go unnoticed. Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader Word Count: 815 Warnings: Fluff. A/N: Requested by the lovely @fuckoffbard! 💜

There were times when the universe aligned for the sole purpose of fucking with your life. At least that’s what it felt like as you re-read the email your boss had sent before effectively disappearing for three weeks to some sun-soaked island, not caring that you were already going to school part-time to get your Masters, and that sleep was something humans needed in order to live.

You felt your heart drop as you read the words over, knowing it was a nearly-impossible task, given your attention to detail and the exacting standards you placed upon yourself. There was no way you could do an entire marketing proposal in a week while researching for your Management Development group project, the first part of which, was due in two days.

Blowing a puff of air out from deep within your lungs, you opened a fresh page in your notebook and started on a plan. Since the first part of the project was due first, you bullet-pointed all the information you needed to research. With that out of the way, you jotted down the key concepts of the marketing proposal, and set those aside. Next came all the fine-tuned details for each, allowing yourself to get a better frame of reference for how long it would take. Finally, with bullet points in hand, you cracked your books and got to work.

The world ceased to exist as you studied, your hands flying over the keyboard as you copied parts of the texts and lectures that would be most beneficial to your part of the project. Though time moved on around you, all you could see was your screen. With every muscle tensed and your headphones blasting high-tempo music to keep you motivated, you didn’t hear the sound of the front door being unlocked, two distinct footsteps coming in, or even groceries being set on the counter.

“JESUS MARY JOSEPH FUCK!!!” You screamed as you felt a pair of warm hands on your shoulders, your headphones flying across the room and your laptop thankfully dumped onto the couch beside you as you jumped out of your seat to face whomever it was.

Henry stood, eyes wide and hands in the air, a smile that verged on a grimace spread across his face. You placed a hand over your sternum, exhaling slowly as you confirmed it was only him.

“Hello, sweetheart. I’m sorry I scared you. Didn’t realize you were deep in it,” he apologized, your heart slowly stopping its thudding as you moved to sit back down, accepting a tender kiss from him as recompense. You held onto his face for a moment, stroking his five-o’clock shadow and allowing yourself a small break despite the looming deadlines.

Henry’s smile was sweet and understanding when you finally let him go, your eyes going back to your work as he padded to the kitchen, intent on making dinner. After a while, he returned, a plate in each hand, and the two of you ate side by side in amicable silence, him watching TV with the volume turned down, you eating and working at the same time.

When you finally finished some three hours later and got up to shower, Henry hung back, curious about what had you so laser-focused. His eyes glanced over your notebook, eyebrows going up when he realized how tight your deadlines were. The checklist came next, and he couldn’t help his beaming grin when he saw every item checked off, and a few checked off the next list as well. Finally, he flipped through your textbooks, finding the amount of information you were having to take in overwhelming and awe-inspiring.

After making sure everything was saved and shut down correctly on your laptop, Henry finished cleaning and headed up to bed, already under the covers by the time you let the steam out of the bathroom. Exhausted, you practically face-planted the bed, managing a tired smile as Henry immediately pulled you close, cocooning you in his arms and smoothing your still-wet hair back off your forehead.

“Thank you for making dinner,” you murmured, your voice muffled by the crook of Henry’s neck as you settled in, finding the perfect spot as you did most nights.

“You’re welcome. It was the least I could do given how hard you were working. I have to say, I took a gander at what you had blinders on for tonight and I was blown away.”

You looked up, half-expecting him to say something witty about your classwork, or the project your boss had given you, but instead, you simply found those earnest blue eyes gazing down at you and that gentle smile that always melted your heart.

“I’m so proud of you,” Henry added after a moment, his expression one of genuine admiration and love, his voice full of conviction. The look made your heart clench and you reacted the only way you knew how; by burying your face in his chest and kissing just over his heart, your cheeks burning as you smiled ear to ear.

#henry cavill #henry x reader #deathonyourtongueoriginals

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heliads · 5 years ago

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Still Love You Chapter 4: Heartbreak

Y/N L/N broke up with Peter Maximoff exactly one year ago because her powers threatened to spiral out of control. What will happen when he shows up at her front door?

previous / series masterlist / next

School was finally settling into a regular rhythm. You had made a new best friend in the form of Michelle, the girl who sat next to you in English. She was very helpful in sharing information about both the school and the students, which had saved you from several unfortunate decisions in picking groups for projects. Unfortunately, Peter had also made a close friend- Cyndi. Despite his initial lack of interest in her, her constant efforts at making conversation had worn him down and they appeared to be growing closer. This would be fine, were it not for the fact that every time Peter talked to her, Cyndi would look over at you with a vicious smile as if to say ‘Looks like he’s more interested in me than you.’

It was on one sunny afternoon, every student sick of English and wanting nothing more than to escape the classroom and go spend time outside, that your English teacher finally announced a new project. Not a whole lot of teaching really happened in English, so projects were a common tool to shift the responsibility for understanding the book from the teacher to the students. “Oh, and you’ll work on this project with your shoulder partner. No exceptions!” She announced this last bit amid grumbling from the rest of the class. You look excitedly at Michelle, then remember who’s sitting next to Peter and turn back around just in time to see Cyndi gleefully putting her number into Peter’s phone. Great. Michelle pats you on the back supportively. “Look, it’ll only be like this for a few more weeks until the first quarter is over and the seating chart changes. Then you’ll have nothing to worry about, right?” You nod in agreement, but you can still see the way Peter’s hand lingered on Cyndi’s when she was giving back his phone.

But after class, Peter still walks with you to and from school. He comes to your window when he needs help with homework like usual, and you come over to his house when his mom is out and you two need to take care of his younger sister. Everything seems fine, but you still feel like maybe Peter’s a little more distant than he always has been, and maybe he and Cyndi are talking more together in class and in the hallways than they usually do. You try to distract yourself by spending more time with Michelle and throwing yourself into your classwork, but the only thing that seems to do is distance you from Peter even more. After one day, where you have to watch Cyndi practically lying on Peter, you drive to the middle of nowhere and sit on the back of your car, letting your powers go wild. As the waves of frequency leave your hands and fade out into the distance you feel a little better, but not a whole lot. Small doubts start entering your mind, like what if Peter just got back together with you because you were both mutants or what if Peter only got back together with you because he felt bad or, the worst one of all, what if Peter is only using you to make Cyndi interested in him. You end up lying awake at night letting these thoughts run through your head, and you wake up feeling even worse than you did before.

During one early morning before class, you find yourself sitting in the library with Michelle by your side. You can’t help but turn to her with a sigh. “I don’t know what to do about Peter. I feel like we haven’t talked in a while other than the typical ‘how was your day’ nonsense, and he keeps spending all his time with Cyndi. He usually walks with me to school, but recently he’s been walking much faster than usual so he can get to school more quickly. It’s like he wants to hurry to school so he can get rid of me and go hang out with Cyndi.” Michelle just smiles sympathetically. “She does this with every new guy in the school. She’ll lose interest in a week or so and then you’ll have Peter back to yourself. Besides, I have some news that’ll make you happy.” You look at her curiously. “What?” “Cyndi tripped going down the stairs and she broke her ankle.” You laugh viciously. “Good! It’s what she deserves.” Michelle laughs too, a little shocked. “Y/N! That’s so mean!” You just shove her playfully. “But am I wrong? No.” Michelle rolls her eyes but nods in agreement.

However, Cyndi’s broken ankle turns out to be more of a curse than a blessing. Peter, the gentleman that he is, insists on carrying Cyndi’s books and walking with her to her classes every time. This is made especially bad when he tells you that he can’t walk with you to and from school anymore, as he’ll be helping Cyndi. “What?” You gape at him in astonishment. “She’s hurt! If Michelle broke her ankle, you’d want to help her, right?” “Yeah, but…” You let the words trail off. Yeah, but she’s not known for flirting with every boy in her vicinity. Yeah, but if I weren’t sure that she’s trying to steal you from me. “Great! I’ll see you in class.” With that, Peter walks away, and you’re left staring after him.

When you slink sadly into your chair besides Michelle, she turns to you in surprise. “What’s wrong, Y/N?” You sigh, putting your face in your hands. “Peter told me he’s going to stop walking with me in the mornings and afternoons so he can walk with Cyndi instead. You know, because of the whole broken ankle thing.” “No, really?” “Yeah.” You let out a breath in sadness. “I just don’t know what to do! It feels like every day he gets farther and farther away from being my boyfriend. I still love him, but I’m not sure he feels that way about me anymore.” Michelle pulls you close comfortingly. “Look, if he’s choosing Cyndi over you then he’s just ridiculous. Also, if you want to do something about it, have you considered talking to him about it? He might not even know he’s ignoring you!” You consider that for a while, then nod. “I’ll talk about it to him after class. Thanks, Michelle. You’re the best.” She waves the compliment away. “We’re friends. It’s what we do.”

You do your best to psych yourself up for the upcoming conversation, and by the time the bell rings to end the school day, you’re feeling confident enough to stride over to Peter’s desk and ask to talk to him in private. Peter nods, and you lead him away from your locker, saying “Look, I’ve been wanting to talk about this for a while.” He nods, but adds “Sure. Love talking to you. But can we make this fast? I’ve got to make sure Cyndi gets home okay.” You force a smile onto your face that you don’t really feel. “Actually, it’s about that. I feel like you haven’t been paying a whole lot of attention to me, and that you’ve been blowing me off to spend time with Cyndi, and-”

He cuts you off. “This is about Cyndi? Come on, Y/N, we’re just friends.” You sigh. “I know, but I want to spend time with you. I care about you, but it’s like you’re ignoring me to go hang out with her.” “So what if I want to spend time with Cyndi? She’s nice! We’re friends!” You cross your arms. “No, she’s flirting with you.” Peter scoffs. “And so what? I can talk to whoever I want!” This is so not going the way you want it to go, so you do your best to salvage the conversation. “And that’s fine, but as your girlfriend, I’m a little worried that-” He cuts you off again. “Oh, are you trying to protect me again? How did that work out the first time? Right, you broke my heart and didn’t speak with me for a year.”

You take a step back in surprise. “Why are you bringing that up? I’m literally just asking for you to talk to me more than once per day!” Peter just rolls his eyes. “No, you’re trying to control what I do. You know who doesn’t do that? Cyndi. So if you’ll excuse me, I am going to go walk her home.”

He tries to push past you, but you just stand in front of him again. “Peter! What is going on with you?” He looks you dead in the eyes. “Stop trying to control me. In fact, just stop talking to me at all.” You freeze. Everything seems like it’s in slow motion. “What?” “Stop talking to me. We’re over.” And with that, he walks away from you, back to Cyndi.

You feel like you’re in a haze. Dazedly, you grab your things and head home. When you finally make it through your front door, you collapse on your bed and finally let out the tears that have been building up. Sobs rack your body, and you can’t help but stare at the ceiling in regret. Peter doesn’t want anything to do with you. And he doesn’t love you anymore.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff imagine #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff imagines #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver imagine #quicksilver imagines #xmen #xmen imagines #days of future past

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astralhugs · 5 years ago

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Your Letters | 707 x Reader

��Your Letters’

Pair - Choi Saeyoung (707) x Reader

Description - Every Sunday, a boy named Saeyoung would give you a small handwritten letter. One day, those letters never came, a few years passed and you met the RFA but then the letters started to show up again.

1 | 2 |

—

Growing up in a religious house hold, you would always be dragged to church everyday. Your parents would always dress you formally as if they’re taking you to your coronation to be a ruler or something.

Going to church wasn’t bad, you tend to almost fall asleep sometimes but other than that it was good. Parents and their kids would come up and try talking with your family, you’d play with the other kids and have fun sometimes.

Until you met him.

A boy who seemed like he was a few months older than you. He wore a black jacket and had particularly red hair. He was the boy that always stood at the corner, trying to join in the other kids.

But he was always with a blonde girl who seemed like thats his older sister. Feeling bad, you went up to introduce yourself to him.

“Hi, I’m MC, whats your name?” you smiled politely, offering your hand to shake.

“Um...Saeyoung.” he awkwardly takes the hand shake, a small smile appearing on his face.

You noticed how pretty his eyes were, not only did he have bright red hair, his eyes are golden...and very pensive, always deep in thoughts.

Both of you grew close real quick though he doesn’t like to talk much about his family, you understand, of course! Its his right if he wants to keep something like family a secret.

He’s probably just a private person you thought to yourself and just shrugged it off thinking nothing of it and continued to play with him.

You learned that he’s always dreamed of becoming an astronaut, flying to the moon and marrying their significant other in the moon.

One day, you didn’t see him for a bit but, you did get a small handwritten letter from him. It was folded neatly and the nice blonde girl gave it to you.

‘Mc! I’m sorry I can’t come to church today :(,

my house is a bit...rusty so I had to miss church this week, but thats fine, I’ll be sure to go next week :), by the way, did you know I got baptised a few weeks ago?

it slipped my mind and i never really got the chance to told you! So I asked one of my good friends to give you this letter, sorry I couldn’t tell you in person...

I’d like to talk more but-

Oh shoot, my moms calling me to dinner got to go :(

see youuuu!

-Saeyoung💫 ‘

Every two weeks, he’d sometimes miss church but everytime he did, a letter would be given to you instead.

‘MC! I haven’t been feeling well lately and I caught a really bad flu so I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to church for a while.

But I’ll still try to write letters to you tho because I don’t want you to feel lonely!

Mc, thank you for all the fun memories in church even if it was short :(

Please live a happy life and I pray to God that you will!!

I don’t know when I will be back but just know I won’t be too far from you :D

Bye-bye for now!!

-Saeyoung 💫’

It sounded like a goodbye letter and you weren’t liking it. The next week, thankfully you got another letter.

‘Haha! Did I scare you? I’d never write an emotional goodbye letter to you.

Mc, how are you? I hope you’re doing well!! I’ve moved to a new school and made new friends, its fun! We learned alot of new stuff but I can’t tell you because its a secret ;)

I’ve been getting into computers lately and how interesting they actually are.

Like did you know that coding isn’t that hard? I learned how to write ‘Hello World!’ by coding and I’m so proud!!

Oh, I have to go back and finish some classworks and projects.

Wait for my next letter, okay?

-Saeyoung 💫’

Well.

Saeyoung was right.

He would never send an emotional goodbye letter.

Why? Because that was the last letter he sent before disappearing.

The woman who was always with Saeyoung disappeared as well. It was as if they never existed at all. You shrugged it off thinking they probably moved or something.

Fast forward to a few years passing and you were now a someone who’s looking for a job.

You looked at the convenience store to see if anyone was offering jobs.

A man behind you laughed, “Lady, if you’re not going to take anything, can you move so I can pass by please?” he politely said.

You quickly apologized bowing slightly and walked to the side, allowing them to pass and grab the item they wanted.

You looked at him for a moment and raised an eyebrow, he looks familiar, sort of.

He wore a black hoodie that covered his hair color. But something about his aura felt familiar like as if they knew each other for years.

You were about to ask them if they knew each other but he immediately paid the chips and walked out.

“Hey, are you looking for a job?” a man with white hair asks.

You nodded, basically you were desperate.

“Cool, I’ll explain the details once we have a short interview tomorrow, how about here?” he gives you a card that has an address, a phone number and a weird combination of numbers.

“....okay...” you say, hesitating slightly.

This is going to be fun, I guess..

The next day came sooner than you expected and now she’s heading towards the address, you check the place and see that its nothing suspicious. It was just a regular apartment.

You knocked on the door, no response.

Knocking once again, you didn’t hear a response so you decide to text the man.

‘...hello?’ you texted.

‘just enter the passcode i wrote on the paper.’ he replied.

you hesitantly typed in the passcode and just like that, you entered the room.

“Hello?” you said.

Surprise surprise.

No one’s there.

Suddenly, your phone lit up, saying a new notification has arrived, you clicked on it thinking it was the man.

But it wasn’t

“Congratulations, the RFA app has officially been installed on your phone.” you read it out loud.

You opened the app and checked what it was.

Was it some sort of virus?

While looking through the app, you didn’t realize it was actually a chatroom app with actual people.

‘Wait..I think someones in the chatroom.” a silver haired man says.

“You’re right!” someone who goes by the username 707 says.

Looking at the profile picture, you weren’t sure if it was the same boy from all those years ago..

And you were determined to find out.

‘Hello?’ you typed into the chatroom.

—

I’ll upload the next part next week!!

Happy Mother’s day everyone<3

Done reading? Why not read more at masterlist

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enragedbees · 5 years ago

Text

Wretched/Deluded

Pairing: Prinxiety, side Logicality

Summary: As Virgil helps Logan get ready for a date, he reminisces back to when they first met in high school.

Warnings: Swearing (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

Words: 3030

Song rec: Factories by Autoheart (This is less of a theme for this chapter, but more of the theme I’m using for the fic in its entirety!)

A huge thanks to the lovely @fall-sunflowers for being my beta reader!!

Taglist: @xionbean @thenewlarislynn @emo-disaster @darkstrange-son @starwarsdestroyedme

I love reading your comments! Please let me know what you think! :)

Read the companion to this story!

——————————————-

Chapter 1: To Put Together Me

~ -222 days from The Beginning ~

Virgil heard the front door of his apartment slam shut.

He switched the tab on his laptop from Tumblr to LinkedIn and got up from the couch, leaving the screen open and facing out as if to prove that he’d been doing what he was supposed to. His roommate walked through the kitchen, grinning.

“Hey.” Virgil walked across the room and leaned against the wall. “You look happy.”

“I am.” Logan opened the refrigerator and grabbed a water bottle. “I have a date tonight.”

Virgil grinned. “You finally asked that guy you met?”

“‘Finally’ seems rather melodramatic. I waited a perfectly reasonable amount of time before asking him out.” Logan cracked his water bottle open. “I’ve only known him for two weeks.”

“And for two weeks you haven’t stopped talking about him.”

Logan rolled his eyes. He took a drink and set the bottle down. “How goes the job hunt?”

Virgil grimaced and sat back down on the couch. “I can’t find anything worthwhile.”

“Maybe I can ask Patton tonight if he knows of anyone who’s hiring.” Logan offered. “He knows the city well.”

Virgil scoffed. “You can’t ask that on a first date. He’ll think that’s the only reason you took him out.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “Okay, I won’t.”

Virgil grabbed his laptop. “When are you picking him up?”

Logan checked his watch. “About two and a half hours.”

“And what are you wearing?”

Logan looked down at what he had on. “I was just going to wear this.”

Virgil stopped. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No. What’s wrong with it?”

Virgil shook his head, eyes wide. “You can’t wear your daytime clothes on a date! Especially not when he’s already seen you in them that day. Do you want to look like you don’t care about going out with him?”

“Well, obviously, not,” muttered Logan.

Virgil sighed loudly and stood up. ”Come on, I’ll find you something.” He clasped Logan on the shoulder. “I guess some things never change.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “It’s not like I’m helpless without you.”

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” Virgil lightly pushed against Logan into his room and started to rifle through Logan’s closet.

~ -3110 days from The Beginning ~

Virgil Terek had no friends.

And he was okay with that. He enjoyed being alone.

It’s not like he wasn’t likable. He wasn’t an outcast. People were nice to him and he was polite back.

Virgil just didn’t make an effort to put himself near other people. If he auditioned for the school musical, he’d be immediately adopted by the theater kids. Same with choir, or art, or any kind of sport, all things he could excel at. He simply didn’t want to.

Virgil didn’t want to join a group where he’d always be on the outside. He might have had a couple friends, but he was too far behind to ever be a part of some tight-knit collection of people who had been in that club together since childhood. Virgil would sit with them at lunch, hang out with them on the weekends, go to their birthday and graduation parties. But they wouldn’t ask to work with him on group projects in class. They wouldn’t pick him for their team in gym. Every time they made plans, it would be, “Oh, and you can come too, if you want, Virgil.”

And it was far too dangerous to have a single best friend, instead of a group of people. Virgil would never depend so much on one person. He’d just get hurt when they left for someone else.

Virgil was happy where he was. At lunch he sat in silence with the other kind-of-loners like him and did homework. At home, he read or wrote or listened to music or watched television or dicked around on his phone. Virgil was content.

The lack of friends eliminated distractions from what really mattered to Virgil. He could focus on what he wanted to do, and never had to worry about not having enough free time to do it.

Virgil Terek entered the ninth grade with complete indifference. By that point, he had learned his place in the world. As long as he maintained his grades and took all his required courses and interacted with his parents every once in awhile, nobody bothered him. He was free.

And Virgil had never had a problem maintaining his grades. Being categorized as a “gifted student” sometime in elementary school, he never struggled with completing an assignment or needed to study for tests. Virgil was placed in the advanced classes throughout elementary and middle school and had no problem breezing through them without trying or even enjoying it.

He took Geometry CP freshman year because it was the logical next step. He had no idea how much different an advanced high school course was from an advanced middle school course. When Virgil didn’t immediately understand a concept, he didn’t ask for help. When he only halfway understood the quadratic formula or didn’t memorize the order of the postulates and theorems, he didn’t study, because he had never had to before, and everything worked out on its own. Virgil started getting the worst test grades he had ever received in his life.

A few weeks into the course, he was barely pulling a D+. His parents and teacher kept getting on his case, Virgil didn’t know how to fix his grades, and he felt his freedom slipping away.

Other students complained near him about doing poorly, but their worst was always a grade Virgil would kill to have again. And the most annoying part was the new student in his class who never complained, who never was unprepared or confused, who seemed to have already mastered every topic in the course yet participated and accomplished classwork with vigor like it was the most interesting thing going on in his life.

Over the course of a few weeks, Virgil saw his irrational hatred of the kid intensify. Every time he got a poor test grade or failed assignment, he grew angrier at the kid who had no problems with the material. Everything about him annoyed Virgil. He was a freshman who had just moved into town, and he was still better than Virgil. He was very tall and very thin, which should have made him awkward, but he wasn’t. He dressed every day like he was going to work, tie and all. He spoke so professionally, almost robotically. He was stuck up and arrogant and took every chance he could to correct someone. But he had an A+ in Geometry.

Virgil, slumped at his desk in class while the teacher passed back their most recent tests, let these thoughts stew. He begrudgingly took the paper his teacher handed back to him, upside down and folded, with a stern but encouraging glance in Virgil’s direction. Virgil grimaced and turned it over.

A big red D- sat leeringly at the top of the page. Virgil sighed. He looked to the front of the room at the new kid, who was flipping through the test, observing it with noticeable interest, looking over the unmarked pages before setting it back on the desk with an obvious A+ at the top.

Virgil rolled his eyes to himself. None of his closest acquaintances were in the same math class, and he didn’t feel comfortable asking the sophomores and juniors in the period for help. This kid who didn’t know Virgil and therefore, didn’t have a reason to turn him away, might have been Virgil’s only chance to get his life back to normal.

He groaned inwardly. He wished he had another option.

When the period ended, Virgil walked up to the kid, who was packing up his backpack.

“Hey, how’d you do on the test?” Virgil asked. He hated small talk, but he was about to ask a complete stranger for help, and Virgil felt that he at least owed it to the kid.

“I got one-hundred percent,” answered the boy. Virgil resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Cool. I didn’t do so well.” Virgil slung his backpack over his shoulder and they walked out of the classroom. “I’m Virgil, by the way.”

The kid furrowed his brow. “Like the poet? What kind of a name is that?”

Virgil glared at him. He decided didn’t need straight A’s that badly. “Alright, fuck off.” He started to walk away.

“Wait, I’m sorry.” The other boy at least looked sheepish. “I don’t have much of a filter or an understanding of social etiquette. I tend to speak whatever I’m thinking without realizing the effects of what I say.”

Jesus, this kid. Virgil was sure he had just recited that from a textbook he picked up somewhere. He sighed. “Okay. I don’t think that makes it better, though.”

The kid stuck his hand out. “Pleased to meet you, Virgil. My name is Logan Schlenke.”

Virgil gingerly shook his hand and they continued down the hallway. “Okay, so here’s the deal. I’m kind of doing really badly in Geo and I can’t help but notice that you know what you’re doing.” He sighed. “Is there any way you can help me when I don’t understand what’s going on?”

“You want me to tutor you?” asked Logan. “Sure, I can do that.”

“It’s not tutoring, I just want a little help with the content.”

“That would be called tutoring,” Logan offered.

“No, I don’t need –” He stopped himself and gritted his teeth. “Fine, whatever, call it tutoring,” Virgil muttered. He bit his lip. “But you’ll do it?”

Logan stopped. He looked at Virgil thoughtfully. “I’ll help you under one condition.”

“Seriously?” Virgil groaned. “What is it?”

“It’s become evident to me that in order to have a productive and enjoyable high school career, one must be on good terms with their classmates,” Logan said. “I’ll help you understand Geometry if you help me to understand how to interact with people.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think I’m your best choice to learn people skills, man. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I kind of keep to myself and don’t talk to anybody else.”

“That’s not true,” Logan commented. “I’ve seen you talking with lots of people and everyone likes you. Besides, I don’t want or need actual friends. I just need to get along with the other students in the school.”

Damn. This kid. Virgil was already regretting the decision. There had to be an easier way to pass Geo.

He let out a breath. “Okay. I’ll help you.”

Logan stuck his hand out again, and Virgil shook it. “It’s a deal,” Logan smiled.

The two exchanged contact information, and Logan walked into his next class, leaving Virgil shaking his head in the hallway.

Over the next few days, Logan went to Virgil’s house after school and worked with him on the content they learned in class.

“Your main problem seems to be that you never learned how to study,” Logan noted. “If you practice teaching yourself the concepts you don’t understand in class, soon you won’t need someone to reteach it to you.”

Virgil scoffed. “Why should I teach myself something when there’s a teacher getting paid to do it?”

“Teachers or other professionals are useful to help explain a concept to students. Not all teaching styles work on everyone, so sometimes it’s necessary to find out how you learn best and teach it to yourself,” Logan explained, maintaining a remarkable amount of patience. “You should also pay attention in class more often.”

Virgil tried to help Logan interact in social situations, but he had no idea how to teach him, or if any of what he knew would work for Logan. Logan tried his best, though, putting the same effort into studying people skills that he did in his schoolwork.

“So, maybe, when you want to say something, just…don’t, for a bit. Until you think it over and decide it’s an acceptable thing to say,” Virgil offered.

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t think I’ve tried that?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Look, dude, I’m not really sure how it works for you, anyway. But if you want people to like you, you can’t say things that make you look like an asshole. Just…calibrate, I guess.”

Logan’s eyebrow raised, but he said nothing. He jotted something down in a notebook.

“And you have to lose the tie.”

“Why?” asked Logan, genuinely confused.

“Nobody wears ties to school unless they have to dress up. Don’t you own, like, a single t-shirt or something?”

Horror flashed across Logan’s face. “Why would I wear a t-shirt to school?”

“So you look like a normal human teenager and not a child trying to run for president.”

Logan pursed his lips but wrote in his notebook again.

Virgil took a breath. “Tomorrow, try wearing jeans, a nice t-shirt, and an unzipped hoodie. And brush your bangs forward a bit, your hair doesn’t have to all be going in the same direction.”

Logan looked at Virgil like he had told Logan to wear nothing but a bathrobe to school, but he wrote it all down.

And the next day, Logan walked up to Virgil at his locker, wearing skinny jeans with a brown belt, a long-sleeve gray and white raglan, and a green hoodie. He had his hair swept to the side, falling gently over his forehead, just high enough so it didn’t impede his vision.

“Whoa.” Virgil grinned at Logan.

Logan smiled sheepishly back, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “I feel ridiculous.”

“You look great, man,” said Virgil. And he really meant it. He could already feel a difference in the energy surrounding Logan. He could feel the other students no longer seeing him as an outlier or a stranger, but as someone who could be anyone else in the school. He’s one of us, they seemed to think out loud.

And, for the first time, Virgil realized that Logan was actually a really attractive guy. He just hadn’t known how to express himself. For some reason, Logan had tried to confine himself to a professional, more mature style. But in this outfit, he looked comfortable, relaxed, more laid-back and easygoing. Though he was almost definitely nervous of switching up his style so suddenly, Virgil could see in the way he carried himself that Logan felt more like himself in this outfit, not trying to prove to everyone that he’s someone he’s not.

They began walking down the hallway. “The most important thing about wearing this today is being confident in it. It won’t have as much of an impact if you doubt yourself.” Virgil said. “I know it’s a big change, but you’ve got to believe that you do look good.”

“You told me I did,” Logan said. “I have no reason to distrust you.”

As they walked, a few kids in the opposite direction smiled or nodded hello to Logan. He smiled back

“How do you feel?’ Virgil asked.

“I feel good.” Logan nodded. “I had no idea how much something as small as what I wore could have an effect on how I’m perceived.”

“You’re already starting to seem like a real person to the others,” Virgil smiled. “Keep this up and I’d bet anything you could get any girl in the school.”

Logan laughed out loud. “We’ll see. How did you do on the pop quiz in Geometry yesterday?”

“I got a B,” Virgil grinned.

“Well, that’s certainly an improvement, but I know you can do more. Are you free again this afternoon?”

Virgil sighed. God forbid he be proud of less than his best. “Yeah, my place again?”

Logan nodded and turned into his first period classroom for the day.

As the days passed, Virgil slowly grew more confident in his abilities to learn and understand things himself. He noticed that he started asking questions in class when he was lost, and he noticed seeing Logan smirk with pride every time.

Logan slowly grew more accustomed to social interaction. His robotic syntax and word choice didn’t change, but with the change in style, it began to seem quirky and intelligent rather than just arrogant. And though he still, with nothing but good and helpful intentions, corrected anyone who was wrong about anything, Virgil helped him to do it without making the other person feel stupid. Logan made friends, built connections, and started making a place for himself in the school.

Virgil soon became confident in his ability to study and learn things on his own, which was a huge source of pride for him. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to properly study. As one last benchmark, Logan went an entire chapter without tutoring or explaining anything to Virgil.

At the end of the chapter, his teacher handed him his test, upside down, with a pleased smile. Virgil turned over the paper to see a 96% A crowning the top.

Virgil ran up to Logan at the end of the class as they walked out together. “I can’t believe I did it!”

Logan grinned. “Congratulations.”

“Man, I could not have done this without you. Thank you so much for everything,” said Virgil.

“You’re welcome.”

Virgil pulled his phone out. “Do you want to come over today? I have to text my mom but I know she’ll be fine with it.”

Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “Is there another class you’re having trouble with?”

“What?” Virgil looked up at him. “No, no. Not for studying. Just to hang out.”

Logan raised his eyebrows.

“Like, for fun?” Virgil continued.

Logan’s face lit up. “Okay. Sure.”

He turned and walked away, beaming. As Virgil watched him go, a realization hit him. He had been trying for so long to get his life back to normal, back to being alone and untethered. But now, he’d never be able go back to that life.

“Goddamn,” he muttered.

Virgil Terek had one friend.

He walked away, shaking his head and laughing at himself, but unable to keep a smile off his face.

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noahiish · 5 years ago

Text

hellooooooo, my dudes !! i’m oliver and this is noah. i swear his majors make sense just read the intro...

「 gregg sulkin. male. he/him. 」 i hope that #lexsquad member 「 NOAH ARCHER 」 adds me to the squad ! the 「 TWENTY-ONE 」 year old 「 FINE ART & ANATOMY 」 major has been apart of the squad since 「 OCTOBER 2019 」 and seems to be the 「 WALLFLOWER 」 of the group. 「 NOAH 」 is a 「 JUNIOR 」 and seems to enjoy 「 SKETCHING 」 but you can always find them at a squad party , too ! 「 oliver. they/them. 21. est. 」 -- kie's wc !

ABOUT

– born in a suburb of nyc to a pretty normal middle class family. one brother two years older than him and his parents. he had your typical childhood, just your typical bumps that come with puberty and growing up.

– he grew up sketching a lot bc he spent a lot of time following his parents around and doing a lot of waiting and reading was too boring... and frankly… was not that good at it. but he kept at it and it developed into a pretty Big Talent !! he started gravitating toward people eventually, finding it challenging and full-filling. soon it was more strange to find noah without a sketchbook than with one.

– didn’t really know what he wanted to do as he neared the end of high school tbh. art was the only thing he was good at --- that and pole vaulting lol. actually he went to lex bc they offered him an athletic scholarship. so he went to lex for that, decided to major in fine arts while he was there ; luckily had supper supportive parents that let him LOL ( the scholarship probs helped a little in that regard ). learned a lot about painting, acrylic and oil, though sketching and drawing remained his first love. he took to the bustling street, sitting in cafes and sketching anyone and everyone ( in a non-creepy way, he promises ).

– middle of his sophomore year, his friend met this super hot guy at a bar but never got his name or anything. and well… that’s where the story really starts. noah figured hey, why not give it a try and that was his first time sketching from a description. and it turned out pretty spot on.

– from there, things spiraled out of control. parent of a friend of a friend heard some things and next thing he knew, he was shadowing a forensic artist at the nypd the next summer and adding a second major in anatomy. so yeah, that was a twist he didn’t see life throwing at him. but he’s surprisingly happy with the new direction, thinks it can really take him somewhere maybe. who knows.

USELESS FACTS

– he still has a sketchbook with him like… always. carries this worn leather messenger bag to hold it and all the pencils and charcoal he’ll ever need in addition to his backpack bc u gotta protect the real goods. definitely still in the habit of sitting in cafe and drawing random people. it keeps his skills sharp. sometimes has friends drill exercises with him where they describe a random person in like a stock photo to him. he thinks it’s fun…

– he paints too !! but those are like,,,, rarely ever finished unless they’re for class. he runs out of motivation too fast. his apt probs like half-finished canvases of every size just… everywhere. like i said, classwork and freelance is one thing — but all his independent projects lmao ???? like never finished. ever. king.

– uh. yeah sports. he does track n field ( pole vault is like his Thing ). rest of the year he just keeps himself in shape. running, gym, the works.

– has a little freelance business !! mostly just short sketching commissions bc what college student has money to spend on that lmao. business probably picks up around christmas and valentines day tbh.

– near photographic memory tbh… helps with all those anatomy classes tho.

– kie’s secret ex. probably still sad abt it. probably has a full sketchbook filled with him too. still the person he can draw easiest from memory. what can i say.

– his older brother plays in the nhl. that’s not really relevant at all but i’m including it anyway. he probs plays for the ducks so he’s close-ish. noah goes to his games occasionally.

PERSONALITY

noah’s just like.... pretty unassuming ? he does tend to stick more to himself than get into the thick of things, hence his label. he’s got an artist’s eye though : acutely observant, not much slips past him, probably could be a detective... lowkey his parents think he should’ve used that intellect for something that wasn’t art lbr. doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to have fun, just tends to hang back first. prefers to be in full control of his faculties so getting him drunk is a rarity. absolutely the friend that would dd. he tries his best to be kind and to let people make their own impressions on him. but like ? double-edged sword too ? he also doesn’t really care if you’re popular or whatever. he’s also a good listener and has been told he’s a reassuring presence ??? people tend to want to talk to him and find him giving off those like Trustworthy vibes, y’know ???

#lex.intro #( probs going to sleep soon but #ya boy is done with school now so #i'll be around always LMAO )

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orangeblossomstudies · 7 years ago

Photo

First off, I just want to say thank you to everyone who is giving this series love and support! It means a lot to me to see people reblogging and tagging it as useful information. That just really makes my day! Now, without further ado:

Part 3 in Surviving University (and other not so fun but important things)

Here I am going to go over how I both prepare for and partake in class lectures. Enjoy!

Part 1

Part 2

RE: College can be a trip sometimes so, seeing as I’m going into my third year, I think I have enough background to put together a list of tricks and habits that have both helped/hurt me in the long run. I struggled really really hard when transitioning from high school to college because I have severe social/general anxiety and am not good at dealing with new situations. My grades reflected that for my first semester, but I learned fast and am now going strong!

note: not all of these may apply to you and your university as every place is different! Despite this, if you are an incoming first year or struggling college student, I hope at least one of these tips help you!

Lectures (in general)

This is mainly for the Freshman audience!

Raising your hand to go to the bathroom is something that doesn't really happen in college.

it might seem polite but you're not a child anymore and you don't have to ask to go relieve yourself. No one can stop you. It is wise, however, to understand your surroundings. If you are in a small classroom setting (like you were probably used to in high school) then waiting for a pause in the lecture before getting up is polite and looked kindly on. If you are in a large lecture hall with hundreds of others, you can get up at any time, walk outside, do whatever the hell you want and come back in and no one gives a rat’s ass how long you were gone.

you also don’t have to bring your stuff with you if you plan on coming back. You can just ask the person next to you if they can watch your stuff (I do this all the time) and you’ll be fine (I mean, as long as you’re not leaving a wad of cash or something on your desk. Someone might take that lol)

No one cares that you’re wearing pajamas. It's your life, do whatever the hell you want. Unless you plan to go talk to your favorite teacher about a possible reference for a job or something important where appearances matter, you can wear anything. Not gonna lie, I've seen my fair share of butt cheeks in too-short shorts and muscle tees that are seriously low cut (not that I mind~), but at the end of the day it's college and you’re an adult. What outward image you want to display is totally up to you and they can't do shit about it (unless you’re literally in your underwear or something totally obscene like that, which is, yes, illegal). But seriously, you can get away with a lot.

As a sub-note, I personally live in Florida where it's hot, like really hot, and the humidity is most often at 100% so these “underdressed” occurrences are not uncommon. If you live under similar conditions where most people strip to fight the heat I'd give one fair warning: the AC is no. joke. You might end up freezing your ass off no matter how hot it is outside because the majority of the day you aren't in the sun—you're in a classroom that's blasting an AC that no one ever touches. I usually opt for a t-shirt under a flannel or some other type of over-shirt that can be taken on and off when needed. Find what works for you.

If you want to skip a class, pick the second meeting (this means if it’s a M/W class, skip Wednesday). Yes, I know. You're condoning skipping class? Yup. I am. But there are rules. First, you need to make sure you are confident in the subject. For me, that means English classes. That's my forte and that's what I'm focused on, so I feel comfortable skipping a class or two when I need to study for one of my more difficult subjects or when I feel I just can't sit in four classes that day. The second rule is to make sure you aren't actually missing anything like a quiz, or project overview that is going to be delivered that day. Lord knows you can't make that shit up (many times even if you have a legit excuse). Anyways, many classes have a set number of absences you can have (mine are usually 4 tops--unexcused and excused). Figure out how this may work for you.

I don't get sick but once every two to three years, so I can divvy out my skips easily, but for some people, they need to take certain things into consideration. I'd advise you leave an absence (or two) for a situation that might not be under your control. If someone in the family dies or you need to go to the hospital for some unspeakable reason, you don't want to have to be worrying about failing a class by being there. Understanding your personal situation is key to making this work without ruining your college career.

Deciding if you can arrive late is very circumstantial depending on your professor, yourself, the weather...it's a bit of a wobbly situation. I personally like to get to class 10 to 15 minutes early as I hate rushing and the thought of standing at the front and trying to find a seat while half a class is already there (despite the fact that they probably don’t even care) literally makes me want to hurl. Often times, the teacher will only arrive just as the class should be starting (or later). Yeah, as you can see lots of factors go towards whether it's a good idea to be late, so just analyze and make a decision (better late than never anyone?)

If it's a small classroom setting, again, it's usually a good idea to apologize quietly and take a seat quickly.

Sit wherever you’re comfortable. I see many people suggesting sitting up front, but everyone works differently. I personally prefer the front as it is easier for me to partake in class discussion (I feel pressured when I can see people turn around to look at me) and I don’t have to strain to see. Some people like the back where they can see the whole room and fidget without feeling like they are distracting other people. Some people don’t care.

No there aren’t assigned seats in college, but after a few days, seats might as well be. People tend to sit where they are at the beginning of the year the same as at the end of the year (give or take a few days where you’re later than usual). This is most probably due to the fact that students rely on people in their proper seats to help them find their seat quicker. Even professors rely upon students sitting in the same seats for attendance purposes. Try not to move the general area of the class you attend, or it may throw everyone off!

Lectures 1.2 (preparation)

This is just how I do it I by no means am telling you it is right or for you. Take the information as you will and enjoy!

The night before, make sure you have the readings read and the classwork done (whatever that may be). I can attest to the power of doing the readings (as one who is in multiple English classes and therefore has A LOT of readings). I had a class last semester that I barely did any of the readings for and, although I got an A, I didn’t enjoy it at all. Not only that, but I can’t believe the number of times that I complained I “didn’t learn anything.” Like, no shit, Michaela. You didn’t try. Getting readings and classwork done, even if it isn’t for a grade, will make your life so much easier and you might even find yourself enjoying the subject as you will get a much better understanding.

If you find something confusing or an obscure thought pops up while doing your readings/work, write it down. It will give you a way into class discussion and will help you tons in understanding the topic. I can’t count the number of times in which I know I had a question but by the time it came to the lecture I’d forgotten it.

Before lectures, I like to do a little researching on the topic outside of the textbooks. There is a lot of interesting information out there that can aid you in discussion when in class. Building a relationship with the professors of your major is key to your educational career as you move forward and the best way to do that is by getting them in their element and finding a common ground (I’m still working on this as I don’t like meeting new people).

Make sure you have everything you need. Whether that be a full case of pens and highlighters and your favorite notebook or simply your laptop and a water bottle, you don’t want to show up without the necessities.

Lectures 1.3 (how I do the thing called class)

To start on the most basic level, I get to my seat and set my desk up. I’m super anal about order and my OCD tends to kick in here so you probably won’t have to the compulsive problem I do to situate things over and over again because they’re a little tilted (like just chill Michaela), but however you do it, get yourself prepared before the professor starts the class. It’ll get quiet really quickly and (for me at least) shuffling around in your bag for your stuff is super uncomfortable and embarrassing.

During the lecture, I write down a lot of things besides the notes from the PowerPoints. For me, the notes I take in lecture are really messy. I not only cover what is in the slides, but also anything my teacher says that isn’t there. Usually, if the teacher decides to go off on a topic, it is important and you should pay extra attention to it (unless it’s obvious that your teacher just goes off the rails all the time). I also tend to add reflective commentary and any questions I may have (and their answers).

On the topic of questions, don’t be afraid to ask them. It is severely important for your questions to get answered. You thought them for a reason. You clearly don’t understand something and need a little more detail to do so. It does you no good to have a question sitting there in your head without an answer. Knowledge is power people. Even if you have to wait till the end of lecture because of shyness, do it. You’ll be thankful later.

If your lecturer has included them in their slides, copy the graphs or models (even if it looks like chicken scratch) those charts are more than likely going to show up again later on during a test or quiz because they are short, simple, and cover a heap of information. Get. It. Down.

I absolutely love when a teacher creates an example for better understanding. They usually come up with something that is simple and easy to understand and that is something that has become EXTREMELY helpful for when I’m trying to understand theory, philosophy, and language (yes, even the English language gets me). Examples given by teachers are also something to keep in your notes as they are usually never generic and can be helpful down the line when you need to write a paper.

After lectures, you should always engage with the material again. I do this by rewriting my notes. It has been scientifically proven that writing helps with long-term memory of ideas and conceptual information. Writing the notes twice helps me even more. By creating a format of my notes (as opposed to the bland first draft) I am able to make a snapshot in my head of those notes and thus remember the information (this is just something that helps me as I have a slightly photographic memory. You by no means need to doll up your notes. It’s a lot of work and not for everyone so don't feel bad about doing something more minimal!)

For vocabulary, I swear by flashcards. I, of course, have the vocab in my notes already, but I use flashcards for memory as they are not only a technical third time of writing the vocab., but they also help in giving a flash in my memory of the characters (Chinese) and their meaning. The repetitive motion of flipping the flash card also helps when I try to think back to the vocabulary I went over. If you are able to remember the routine, you can effectively form an image in your head of the word and remember the information more clearly (ok, I know this might not work for everyone, but that’s how my mind works. I would compare it to a “Mind Palace” where schemes and events are created to aid with memory of a certain topic, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say my memory is that good.)

That last point was sort of a sneak peek into Part 5! I really hope you enjoyed this. It was a little more personal as how I go about my lectures will differ as what will work to you, but I always find it fascinating to see how others work academically. If you have any questions or want to comment on your own experiences, please do so! Part 4 will be up next Sunday and will be covering assignments (homework and papers) and the tips I have for that as well as my own commentary of the “proper” ways to study *please, note the sarcasm and heavy eye roll*

Thanks for reading and enjoy the rest of your day!

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kiarasdeclassified · 6 years ago

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some REAL high school freshman advice

so, you’re finally finished with eighth grade & moving onto the next phase of your life: high school! that should be exciting, right? it’s around the time where everyone is starting to get their schedule, pick out classes, shop for new supplies & outfits… & maybe even check out some advice posts so you know what you’re getting yourself into. however, all of these posts seem to say the same thing: “join a club!” “study hard!” “go to football games!” “take an honors class!” “make some friends!” in all honesty, yes, these are great tips, but they’ve been tired out so much over the years of freshman advice posts that have been created & most importantly, don’t exclusively apply to freshmen either. so, to keep you from branding this as just another basic twitter thread on how drinking water will help you get good grades all year, i’ve compiled a list of things you probably haven’t already been told about your freshman year that will definitely be helpful.

it’s not as hard as your teachers might make it out to be.

i find that the idea of high school being absolutely impossible is mostly proposed by english teachers, so here’s an example: all throughout eighth grade, my english teacher gave my class mountains of homework, at least 2 essays every other month, and ridiculously hard tests over strange words derived from Latin. she told us constantly: “i know the work i’m giving you is challenging, but i’m preparing you for high school.” my freshman year, i had no more than three simple assignments to do per night (& even that’s a stretch), i wrote 8 essays the entire year, and my tests were pretty time consuming but they were not at all difficult. i got solid A’s in every class with some effort, but not nearly with the amount of effort my eighth grade teachers attempted to drill into me. especially if you go to public school, your high school is probably going to be a little more relaxed than your middle school is. they won’t freak out on you if you forget to turn something in. you’ll probably be allowed to take out your phone in one or two classes. you’ll most likely be able to chew gum. of course, you’re taking harder classes, so the coursework is going to be more advanced, but your teachers know that. no one expects you to be perfect, especially as a wee little freshman in a sea full of kids who have done this for at least a year or more.

that being said, you still have to put in work.

just because it isn’t going to be THAT tough doesn’t mean it’s going to be a piece of cake. you still need to develop decent study habits, even if your study “habit” is just you looking at a study guide or watching a crash course video or reviewing a quizlet the night before a test. you especially need to do this if you’re taking advanced classes; the most common classes for freshmen on the advanced track to take (depending on your school, this is just what i see the most often) are geometry and biology. both of these classes are heavily theory-based & require at least SOME studying for success, especially biology. if you aren’t taking an advanced class however, you might view this as less reason to try; but, it’s the opposite. since your coursework isn’t so fast-paced, you can focus more on the details of your unit/chapter/lesson/etc. so you can REALLY be sure to ace your tests & nail your classwork. freshman year is the easiest of all your high school years, so even if you aren’t taking advanced classes, you need to try, even if it’s just a little. you won’t regret it.

don’t take an advanced class if you know you can’t handle it.

an unwritten rule of thumb with most high school classes is that you can fail every test, but as long as you complete & turn in all of your classwork & homework, you will pass the class; while keeping that in mind, it’s important to note that advanced classes usually come with summer homework, group seminars, bigger projects, accelerated coursework, & a heavier load on your academic life in general. if you have little to no work ethic, advanced classes are not for you. if you know you’re going to be too lazy to even start any summer work & you won’t turn in any homework during the year, don’t even think about taking the class. but if you can’t even trust yourself to fulfill the latter part of that statement, don’t do it. if you’ve already signed up for it, drop out of it. if you can’t drop the class, good luck buttercup.

get a job if you can.

you’re getting older, you probably don’t want to have to ask your parent or guardian for money all the time, you’ll want to go out & buy things & do fun things with your friends, or if you’re more introverted, maybe even stay at home & spend your money on something nice you saw online. many places understand that you’re a teenager that has just ventured out into high school & began working, so they can be flexible with schedules & hours. this isn’t the post for me to spew out job info, but you can start your job search by googling “[desired workplace (mcdonald’s, walmart, etc.)] careers” & checking their application for an age limit. if there’s one clearly listed & you’re too young, don’t apply; however, if you’re old enough or if there isn’t one, then go ahead & apply! apply to multiple places at once so you have a better chance of landing one, then call back after around 2-3 days & let them know you’re checking on an application. if you don’t want to call, be ready to wait; i avoided doing this & didn’t hear back from what was eventually my first job for 4 months. regardless, having your own money that you know you earned yourself is an amazing feeling, & treating yourself with it is an even better one.

if you want to go to college, start planning.

if you’re an overachiever like i was back when i was a little freshie, then you’ve probably already started doing this; however, if you don’t care to start looking in depth at colleges, you should at least decide what you want to do after high school. take a career cluster inventory test to figure out what you’d enjoy most as a career & use this to decide between 2-3 potential majors/minors; then, complete the texas reality check to see what careers fit your ideal lifestyle. while these aren’t concrete plans at all, it’s good to at least have an idea of what you’d like to do, so you can eventually use this to decide on something later on. even with this in mind, it’s okay if you don’t even know what you want to do yet & no tests you’ve taken have helped you. at the end of eighth grade, i wanted to go into music; at the end of freshman year, i wanted to go into marketing; at the end of sophomore year, i wanted to double major in chemistry & entrepreneurship. it’s fine to be all over the place interest-wise, & it’s fine to have no clue what you enjoy interest-wise. you have a whole four years to make solid plans, so don’t stress it.

college isn’t your only option.

even though this is probably what your teachers, peers, or maybe even family has drilled into your head for a little while, you have so many other options besides college. you can go into the military if you’d like, even if you’re not interested in combat (there’s other positions too, you know); you can go to technical school for something like cosmetology, mechanics, welding, esthetics, etc.; you could go straight into the workforce or start a business if your interests point you into that direction; you could even do something as simple as an apprenticeship for specific jobs. if college was truly the only postsecondary choice, it would be so much harder to get into the schools you wanted to go to, since almost another 1.1 MILLION students in the United States alone would be applying as well. it’s an unrealistic expectation for everyone to go to college, so you’re not “lazy” or a “bum” because you don’t want to.

most importantly, HAVE (safe & solicited) FUN.

you’re in high school! soon enough, you’ll be driving, making your own plans, talking to your friends 24/7 (even if it’s just on tumblr!), & becoming more independent in general. these are the last four years of your life where you can act like a complete fool outside of school before you become an adult. have fun. bend the rules a little--if you want. whatever you do, don’t give into peer pressure. trust me, NO ONE cares if you don’t want to drink or vape or smoke or have sex, as long as you don’t act like you’re above anyone because you choose not to. never let anyone make you do something you don’t want to do. learn how to say no if you feel uncomfortable with something. if you’re into going out, i don’t recommend doing anything illegal, but if you’re going to, always have a trusted friend in a clear state of mind around who can help you stay safe & protected from harm’s way until you’re at home in your bed (or somewhere else where you feel secure) for the night.

popularity means absolutely nothing.

always have one close friend or a tight-knit circle of friends that you can trust & who you know won’t spread your business around. if something happens & you need someone to fall back on, it’s always better to have 1 real friend you can tell anything to than 10 fake friends who you’re iffy about trust-wise. i get it; almost everybody has wanted to be part of the “in” crowd & has wanted to hang out with them; talk to them; dress like them; be friends with them. eventually, you’ll realize none of that matters. it didn’t click for me until the last 4-5 months of sophomore year. there is no difference between you & rebecca over there with her 2000 instagram followers. she’s [hopefully] being herself, & you should be too. you’ll find your proper crowd, even if it isn’t until the end of high school.

i cannot stress this enough, BE YOURSELF.

who cares if everyone thinks math club is lame? what if your future best friend is in there? wanna go for the volleyball team but you don’t want to seem basic? so what? you’re interested in running for student government but you’re afraid no one will vote for you? you’ll never know if you don’t try! go ahead & wear whatever you want, hang out with whoever you want, listen to whatever music you want, & join whatever clubs you want. fix up the black belt you got from the men’s section at the thrift store slip on your checkered vans. go buy some cute stickers for your hydroflask while blasting billie eilish & ariana grande. finish that painting or developing those cool pictures you took last weekend. DO YOU. don’t stress this whole high school thing; you’ve got this. :)

#high school #high school advice #freshman #freshmen #freshman advice #freshmen advice #school #studyblr

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matrixaffiliate · 6 years ago

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Preponderance

NEW STORY! FFN and AO3

Ron has a pretty good YouTube following, but they're not interested in only him.

Romione! I forgot how much I loved these two! Thanks so much to @karachis for giving me the go-ahead to write a story for her amazing idea of Ron as a YouTuber. I hope you like it!

It had started out as a way to prove a point. Right at the end of A-Levels, Ron had decided to prove to Jameson Harper that Fred and George's products were better than every other joke and magic store's products and hence warranted a slight increase in cost. So Ron started a YouTube channel, invested a fair amount of his savings into buying a bunch of products from Weasley Wheezes and their competitors, and then recorded himself comparing them.

His following had been small, but Ron wasn't worried about it being a big thing, he was more concerned that he could rub it in Jameson's fat face that 300 people agreed, Weasley Wheezes' products were far superior to everything else available and worth the extra quid.

"You should show these to Fred and George," Hermione snuggled up next to him on her parents' couch, his latest video on her phone.

"I don't think I'll keep doing it," Ron chuckled at some of the comments on it. "I only did it to shut Jameson up, and we're starting university next month, I don't think I'll have time."

Hermione scoffed, "You know why I hated you when we first started A-Levels? Because even with skiving off all the time, you still manage to do decent in your classes. As much as I hate to admit it, you'll be bored the first couple years of university, and if Fred and George sponsor your videos, then you could make money doing this, fill some time, and take your girlfriend out on fancy dates."

"Does my girlfriend like fancy dates?" Ron chuckled, the idea starting to take hold in his mind.

"Yes, she does," Hermione pushed up to kiss his cheek, "but she also likes snuggling on the couch with you while we eat leftover Chinese."

Ron caught her lips. The Grangers would be back in an hour, and he thought they best not waste it.

Eventually, Ron simply sent an email to Fred and George with a link to his YouTube channel and the subject "Something I did to piss off a dick in my class." His phone rang an hour later.

"Hey George," Ron answered as he pulled the box of cereal out of the pantry.

"When can you be at the shop?"

"Twenty minutes, why?"

"We need to talk, see you in twenty," and George hung up.

Ron sweated a bit, but he hadn't needed to. Fred and George thought Ron's videos were genius. They handed him a bunch of legal paperwork to sign, planned out his next fifteen videos with him, reimbursed him all the money he spent on Wheezes and helped him pick out a good microphone and new camera to buy with that reimbursed money.

The next video he made was the first time Ron mentioned his girlfriend. He figured that she deserved the credit for these videos continuing since he was going to kill the project before she encouraged him to keep going. He hadn't expected any of his little following to even register the fact, but it was the principal of the thing.

"Have you read the comments on your last video?" Harry laughed.

"Not all of them yet, I've been trying to figure out my script for next week's video." Ron looked back down at his laptop as he deleted a paragraph he had just finished typing.

"Well, LavB6 is 'devastated,' to learn that you have a girlfriend." Harry leaned over and looked at Ron's script.

"She knows I have a girlfriend?"

"You said it at the beginning of the video," Harry said as he pointed to the screen. "You should make a pun here and see if anyone catches it."

"Good idea," Ron made a note in the document to do that before turning back to Harry, "I didn't think anyone would pay attention to me giving her credit. Maybe these people are better than I gave them credit for."

"Don't be too quick to change your judgment," Harry shook his head. "That user isn't the only one to say they're unhappy. Wait," He laughed, "realmagic says they're glad you're girlfriend was smart and made you keep going with the videos."

Ron blushed, "Yeah, I'm just going to ignore those comments about people being unhappy I'm taken. Do me a favor and don't point them out to Hermione."

Harry laughed, "If you aren't pestering Gin and me, then I'll make sure Hermione doesn't even know you can leave comments on a YouTube video."

Ron laughed, "Fine, but please don't snog my sister in front of me."

Before Ron knew it, he was two years into his marketing degree and his little channel of 300 subscribers had turned into a business. He had 2 million subscribers, did product reviews and comparisons, put up sneak peeks of new products that Weasley Wheezes was releasing, and put up prank videos using his brothers' products. But what surprised Ron more than anything was how much everyone loved Hermione.

They'd never even seen her! They didn't even know her name!

Ron never wrote Hermione into his scripts, but they were more of a frame for him to work within. He'd plan out good jokes and keep himself on track, but he'd grown comfortable just talking to the camera. And he liked talking about Hermione. He never said her name, just called her 'his girlfriend' and talk about whatever they'd done or what she did or just how awesome she is. His fans seemed to love it though so he didn't try to stop himself.

"prank2live: When do we get to meet girlfriend?!" Hermione laughed as she read through the comments. "That's the fifth one on this video alone."

"They love you," Ron chuckled, "That's how I know they aren't all idiots. They haven't even met you and they already know you're amazing."

Hermione chuckled and made to move from their little kitchen table in the flat they shared with Harry and Ginny, but Ron pulled her over to his lap. "I mean it, you're amazing."

Hermione's cheeks flushed pink as she leant in and kissed him.

As his third year of university was winding down, Ron was starting to see what Hermione meant that the first two years would be easy. This year was requiring work, and he was working hard to keep his 3 million subscribers happy too. Ginny looked up from her phone where she was reading comments on his latest video and laughed.

"realmagic: How was the vacation with your girlfriend and her family?" Ginny shook her head. "The first fifteen comments on your video are questions about Hermione. You should start a vlog or something for all these people who watch only because they ship you and Hermione."

"I don't know Gin," Ron looked up from his book as he tried to prepare for his final. "What would I even talk about? I'm not going to walk them all around campus with me."

"No, don't do that," Ginny looked down at the comments again, "but you could do short videos, two to five minutes, and just talk about life. You could talk about you and Hermione, about your classwork, about what it's like to be a YouTuber, answer comments, that sort of thing."

Ron bit the end of his pen, a habit he'd picked up from Hermione, before grabbing his phone and adding the idea to his list of potential ideas.

That summer, Ron started the vlog, and in his first video, he finally slipped. He blamed it on being stressed about doing a vlog, and nervous that he'd screw it up. But the fact remained that he slipped, and he didn't even catch it in the editing.

"So," Hermione's voice was calm over the phone, "your fans are ecstatic."

"Love, I'm so so so sorry." Ron was waiting for the bomb to fall. The one thing she'd asked when he first started mentioning her back before they started university was not to say her name in a video. And not only had he said it in the video, he hadn't caught it in editing and posted it.

"Oh, Ron," Hermione laughed, "I'm not mad."

"You're not?"

"I was definitely surprised, but I know that you didn't do it on purpose, and," she paused, laughing again, "your fans are really sweet. I've never had more compliments from strangers in my entire life."

Ron let his curiosity win out and he opened up the comments on his first vlog.

candyandwheezes: GIRLFRIEND'S NAME IS HERMIONE!

runtothehills: Hermione! That's the coolest name OMG!

prank2live: It only took 4 YEARS!

LavB6: Hermione I take it all back! Can we b friends?

realmagic: I'm calling them romione!

Ron laughed, grinning at his laptop screen, "Like I said, they aren't all idiots."

It was a full year after he and Hermione had finished university, and Ron had started full time with the twins when he gave his fans their next bombshell.

He laughed as Hermione sat on his lap and they read the comments on his latest video.

"I still think you should have done an announcement video." She leaned back into him and laughed at another comment.

"And miss out on all these amazing reaction comments?" Ron poked her side, "Never."

LavB6: OMG he said FIANCE!

candyandwheezes: WHEN DID HERMIONE BECOME FIANCE?

realmagic: long live romione!

soccerstar88: AAAAAAHHHHHHH! I'm FREAKING OUT!

prank2live: congrats!

OfficialWeasleyWheezes: Fred and George are happy to congratulate their brother and warn their future sister-in-law that it's not too late to back out.

Hermione smirked, "Are you going to do the same thing when we're married?"

"Nah, I thought I'd bring the camera in and record the wedding."

Ron laughed as he caught Hermione's wrist before it could hit his arm.

"I won't have cameras at my wedding, Ron." Hermione tried to pull her hand back but Ron pulled her into him, his fingers playing with her engagement ring.

"I was joking, love, they'll find out we're married the same way they found out we're engaged and the same way they found out I had a girlfriend."

Hermione's eyes softened, "Thank you."

Ron kissed her, loving the way that her ring brushed against his scalp when she brought her hand to his hair.

"Besides," Ron murmured against her, "I think they'd be mad if I just told them something straight out about us, I think they like the mystery."

Hermione bit his lip and tugged on the collar of his t-shirt, smirking at the moan she pulled from him, "Well, I rather like it when you tell me what you're going to do straight out."

Ron chuckled, "Well then darling, let me explain exactly what I'm going to do to you."

If Ron thought that his 6 million subscribers freaked out when he called Hermione his fiancé, he was pretty sure that he broke the internet when he casually said "my wife and I" in a vlog about a year later.

#romione #romione fanfic #ron x hermione #ron weasley x hermione granger #ron weasley #hermione granger #Muggle AU #YouTuberRon! AU #harry potter fanfiction

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wonhoetryme · 7 years ago

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Night Owl

Heart and Brew Coffeehouse (x)

... Despite the upcoming finals and the extravagant workload on his back, B/N makes an attempt to get it all done in a long night at the Heart and Brew Coffeehouse, where his best friend (and oblivious crush) Y/N works...

Genre: slow-build fluff

Words: 4.5k this got kinda long

A/N: I WROTE THIS WITH MY BEST FRIEND because I got block (which is why it took so long) but she saved it and she’s great, I love her. Shoutout to Merci. Also, Y/N sounds so against all them espresso shots, but I personally down a 10 ristretto-shot honey latte before I start cramming for any test, so... #teamcoffeebuzz ‘knaw mean?

(cc)

Despite the watercolor sunset that glosses the tables, and the pink-orange sunlight that soaks in from the windows, the coffeehouse is still filled with people. Though the rush has long passed with the coming of the evening, students and teachers stay hunched over study sheets, essays, and paperwork, populating the tables of the lobby. A calm hum of whispers can be found underneath sounds of espresso machines and steaming milk, mixing with the studious sense of anticipation.

That calm is brought to an abrupt halt, stopping everything in your track when an incredulous request gets your attention at the register.

“Wait B/N, you said how many espresso shots?” You say, not even attempting to write down this order in case you heard wrong.

Your question is met with a blank stare. “Eight.”

You blink at him over and over, as if he were asking for something ridiculous. And he is; it’s nearly seven o’clock in the evening, why does he need that much of a caffeine buzz?

“I want eight, Y/N.”

Good thing you and him are best friends, or you’d probably get into trouble for questioning his order so loudly.

“Are you looking for a heart attack?” Your brow wrinkles the middle of your forehead, showcasing the confusion you have for this boy. “That’s a lot of caffeine, not to mention a lot of… bitter” your nose scrunches up, kind of disgusted at the power that many shots could have.

He just just rolls his eyes, an audible scoff shot your way under the pretense of a chuckle. “ Oh whatever, I’ll be fine. I get this all the time, I’m surprised you’ve never noticed.”

You shoot him the look™ and turn to your coworker, conveniently making drinks right beside you.

“Does he really, though?” you ask your coworker, pleading for some kind of disagreement out of your concern for B/N’s heart rate.

“He really does...”

“See?” B/N exclaims, sharing a playful nod with the barista at your side.

You glare at him, still not convinced it’s healthy to have so much caffeine this late, or that it’ll taste all that good. He looks at you for a long moment, watching as your face scrunches up.

How cute. He smiles. “Just let me buy my drink Y/N, you got me holding up the line.”

There’s only two people behind him, and they look like they’re still trying to select their study refreshments, but you won’t mention it; it’s bad enough you’re arguing with B/N. And, if your manager sees you holding him up anymore you’ll probably get into trouble.

Begrudgingly, you ring up his order. Iced americano, eight espresso shots (whatta mad man), with grapefruit and and a splash of coconut milk.

Before he walks off to the end of the coffee bar where his otherworldly caffeinated drink will greet his buzz-deprived circulation system, he gets your attention once more.

“When do you get off, again?” B/N slips his change into the tip jar while you check your watch. He’ll always tip the coffeehouse, even if you do interrogate him slightly. Only when you’re here though.

“In like, half an hour.” You’ve practically been here all afternoon, and the line out the door from earlier had you practically done for the whole day. Maybe you were the one who needed eight shots of espresso.

He nods, taking a quick note how your voice changes pitch with a friendly “Hi, welcome in!” as you greet the next customer. A smile sneaks along his lips as he goes to wait for his drink. Adorable.

--------

You first met B/N in your morning physics class.

Turns out, the only open chair left in the classroom was next to him, so you had no choice but to set down your cup of coffee on the table before sitting beside his sleeping(?) figure.

“That coffee smells really good” he whispered to you, lifting his head from the desk and looking tired as ever. One look at him, he needed it more than you did.

“If you don't mind me asking, where’d you get it? I’m new here, and I don’t know any coffee places nearby.” He took a moment to ruffle his (obvious) bed head. “I should really find one if I have to do physics this early.”

You heard his chuckle the first time then. It’s got an odd ring to it, but it’s deep and very...attractive. It sounded like a laugh from a moviestar, handsome and boyish with the grogginess of 8am.

He definitely got your attention then. He was new to town, coming to school from out-of-state. You had actually been the first person he talked to since he moved in. That is, except for the bus driver.

“Oh, If you’re looking for coffee, I actually work at the coffeehouse down the road. Heart and Brew? It’s practically the study hub for this school if you ever find yourself there.” You found his smile to be warm, even if he did look like he just woke up.

“Really? Would you mind… maybe showing me?” He blushes a little, realizing he didn't mean to sound so flirty. “S-Since you work there. I mean, if you don't have anything to do after this.”

One thing you always note him on, is that he’s bold. That first day he met you, it was like he had the confidence to ask you out despite his perfectly-tousled bed-head and cotton long-sleeve.

“Yeah, I’m free. I’ll take you” You nodded, trying to take him in as platonically as possible. You didn't wanna get your hopes up if he was just trying to learn his way around town, but he looked so... huggable. Seeing him every morning for the next semester makes 8am physics a bit more appealing. “I’m Y/N by the way.”

He opened his notebook as the professor started handing out class papers. Smiling at you, he reaches, asking for your hand. “Nice to meet you, I’m B/N”.

Later, over shared jokes and a quick look over the syllabus, you two became inseparable. With two classes paired together, and his open love to mess with you, becoming friends was easy. You’re still not sure if that first coffee together was a date or not, but you two became best friends, bonding over Newton’s Laws of Motion and Chemistry.

---------

B/N sits comfortably in his booth, laptop on one side and a slew of papers on the other. His iced americano may practically be finished, but his homework? Nowhere near.

“Damn, B/N. What do you still have left to do?” You, off the clock and out of your apron, slide into the seat across from B/N.

The wholesomely comforting aroma of freshly ground coffee beans finds it way from your clothes to B/N’s senses, awakening the parts of his heart that espresso had yet to reach. He drinks it in as your unspoken introduction.

“Well, I have a science history project, that physics worksheet, an astronomy essay, and our lab write up”. He lists a few more things, noticing as you release your hair from it’s classic updo. It falls softly across your face, causing B/N’s fingers to tingle with the urge to tuck it behind your ear. And he could if he leaned forward a bit further. The top of your collarbone is a bit exposed when you start to rummage through your bag, letting him only innocently imagine the softness of the skin there. The lighting above the table does wonders for you, by the way.

“Geez, B/N.” You say. He’s taking a few more higher-level classes than you, so your load was nowhere near as heavy. But still... you finished all your classwork days ago, while he’s still got assignments due. “Is all this due before finals?”

“Unfortunately.” He sighs, finally looking away from you to run a hand through his hair. His tresses look just as fluffy and perfectly messy as they had the first morning you met him. That was months ago, yet you still see him the same: effortlessly handsome.

“B/N… you know finals are in… two days, right?’ You reach your hand out to land atop of his as if you were bearing bad news.

“Yes,” he laughs, “I know”.

He tries not to focus too hard on the warmth of your hand that rests atop his; he forces himself not to think about how softly your thumb is caressing underneath his palm. His chest suddenly feels warm. So soft and innocent a gesture, yet it exploded fireworks withing him. Don’t think about it.

“I may have… procrastinated a bit…”

You suddenly squeeze that hand you were holding so dearly, making him jump slightly. “What the heck, B/N! You have to get these done before tomorrow night, then!?” You give him the furrowed look™ for the second time tonight.

“Ugh, I KNOW.”

“If you plan to participate in the movie binge tonight, you gotta get all that” you release his hand to dramatically gesture to his mini pile of notes and readings, “done tonight.”

“Yeah, and if you don’t want to binge movies alone, you’ll help me finish these.”

He knows that he’s got you there, because you both know movie night isn’t fun without your best friend. He also knows that you really don't like doing anything alone. That’s why he even came during your shift tonight, because you were working after sunset and ‘wanted someone to walk home with’.

He is one for deals, and the deal was that he agreed to walk home with you as long as you would sit with him while he finished up some work.

...You didn't think he had so much to do though, sheesh.

“B/N, you’ve only got five hours left to get this stuff done before the coffeehouse closes.”

There’s a pause. He’s trying not to get too panicked, looking down at his hefty packet of worksheets and readings.

“Okay Y/N, bet.” He leans forward on his elbows, proposing what sounds like another deal to you. “If you help me, five hours is NOTHING. I got this.”

Ah, there’s the bold B/N you like so much. Except he was probably trying to convince himself more than you.

“What do you need me to help with first?” You reach over the table and grab hold of B/N’s hoodie that was laying on the table. The coffeehouse was relatively cold once you’re away from the espresso machine and steam station.

He just nods, watching you slip the fluffy large maroon thing over your head. It practically drowns you, since it’s even too big for him. That looks nice on you, he thinks, keeping the adorable vision at the top of his head and close in his heart.

“Um, can you just review this? Make sure my formulas are correct on this worksheet.” He hands you his physics papers. “And try to not be distracting this time? I’m finishing the lab report.” He takes a sip of what’s left of his iced americano.

You noticed right away that his hands were shaking, probably because of the overload of caffeine.

“Try not to be distracting, huh?” You chuckle, knowing that there’s been multiple study sessions where you’ve run him off course and now he’s calling you out.

“Yes,” he chuckles, and you feel the same warmth in your chest everytime he laughs. “My sweater looks good on you by the way.”

Your cheeks get red and you feel noticeably warmer now.

“Oh um… thanks.” You’ve worn his hoodie multiple times and he usually scolded you for not bringing your own, but a compliment? Whoa. Get him caffeine more often, he’s the one being distracting.

“You should’ve brought your own though, the temperature is falling.” Nevermind, there’s the scolding.

“The start of winter is coming soon. Days are getting shorter. When is the solstice again? Isn’t that the day of the light festival?”

“No, it’s in late December, I think? Or maybe-” He catches himself mid-sentence, “See! This is what I mean. I need to focus on this lab report, Y/N.”

You laugh at his antics. “You wanted my help, so there’s definitely no way you can get everything done in 5 hours”.

“Or you can stop teasing me and just help. ‘Cause If I don’t get this done, you’re on a very lonesome one-person movie binge tonight.”

“Hmph. Why though? What’s in it for me? I mean, besides your pleasant company.”

B/N glances up from his lab report for the third time in forty seconds. His fingers tapped against the grain of the table, his eyes soft though his mind hyperactive and calculating.

“Fine, if I don’t get everything done, you’ll have to kiss me.”

“Huh?” Where did that come from?

“Yep. SO we either get this done, or things will get hella weird.”

Caffeine does weird things for sure. He’s bold like espresso alright, but this was so sudden. You were at a loss for a witty retort.

“You’re the one that’s hella weird...”

His responses were getting quicker, and his knee bobbing up and down started to shake the table a bit.

“Yeah, so look over the worksheet please?”

“...Can we bet like lunch or something instead?” You weren’t gonna subject yourself to a caffeine-formulated bet.

“What, do you want to binge scary movies all alone?” He looked up from his papers, turning on the bold part of him again. “Or is it that you don’t wanna kiss me just yet?”

Yet? That cheeky bastard.

That scrunch of your nose assured him that you agreed. No answer would be a correct answer in your case, but you knew truthfully what you would choose.

“Here.” He passed another worksheet your way, shuffling the leftover stack in his hands. “Would you mind getting me another americano, too?”

Your head shot up real quick. “What? No! You’re already buzzed enough, over here making wild bets.” You notice the papers practically trembling in his hands. “Trust me, you don’t need anymore caffeine than you already have in your system.”

He pouts, nudging your foot beneath the large mahogany table. His hand brushes the top of the table, casting a shadow over the layout of homework he has left.

“Look at everything I have left to do, Y/N. It helps me study and not fall asleep.”

You thought about how else to deny him, because there is no way any of that is healthy, but you decided to only get him two shots in the americano. Water him down, let his mind clear.

He still holds your gaze, watching you look for another excuse. But you fall short in this staring contest, and his eyes crinkle with his laugh. With a sigh, you groan and roll your eyes at him, sliding out of the booth to get you both some coffee.

---------

Once you came back with your coffees (his having a significantly lesser amount of espresso), you both returned to your frantic work over the stacks of papers. Few jokes and teases were thrown at one another, coffee was sipped and refilled again, and eyes traversed over many, many lines of words and numbers while time ticked away.

And B/N still couldn’t help but watch as you help him with his homework.

The way your eyes squint as you work on some math to check over his formulas, or the way your forehead wrinkles and how your eyebrows shoot up when you read over his paper and find some horrible grammar mistakes. And when you bit your lip trying to comprehend something on the worksheets... ooh you’re just so adorable.

Sighing, you lift your head from the endless scrawls on the paper and raise your arms above your head in a long stretch of your body.

“You okay there, Y/N?” B/N said as you shook your head to wake yourself up, tresses of hair falling around your face. Just perfect.

“What time is it?”

“It’s almost closing time,” your coworker said next to you. They were cleaning off all the tables and counters, indicating how late it was getting. “You’ve been here a while”.

Looking at your phone, the time read 11:01 p.m. -- one hour left before Heart and Brew closed.

“You still gonna try to help me finish the last few papers?”

You roll your eyes at B/N and take a glance at the work that you had already completed. You did pretty well, you just need to complete two or three more worksheets.

Then you look over to B/N...

You aren’t sure if he pulled out more work to do from thin air, if he was slow to work, or if he just sat there the entire time doing nothing. Maybe it’s a combination of the three, 'cause he still had a considerable amount of papers to complete before he could consider himself finished.

“What the hell have you been doing this entire time, B/N?!”

“Wha- I… I was distracted!”

“By what? Do I have to take your phone away like your mom?”

“No, I was being distracted by you! It’s your fault!”

“But I wasn’t even doing anything to you except your homework!”

“Yeah you were! You were just sitting there...looking cute and shit.” His eyes avert from your own to the stack of papers in his hands.

As B/N trails off in his accusation, your face blossoms into a soft rose petal pink and your fingers clench around the ends of the long sleeves enveloping your arms. You furrow your eyebrows, sticking your tongue out at him to show how upset you are with his continuous procrastination... and flustering excuse.

“See! You’re distracting me now. How dare you.” The playful glow returns to the apples of his cheeks, and he almost forgets how obvious his flirting is.

“Oh, shut up and do your work.”

With a sly grin knowing he’s gotten on your uwus, B/N spins his pencil between his fingers. With a content sigh, he pulls himself to focus his eyes on the task at hand. You huff and follow suit, returning to the papers on the table.

Once you finish the few sheets you have left over, you drop your pencil onto the table and cross your arms, dramtically slumping further into the booth.

“Done. I’m not helping you anymore.”

“Fine, then be alone for your movie marathon.”

“Hell, after this, I’ll be perfectly fine. You, on the other hand, need to learn how to do your work on time.”

“Yeah, yeah. Lesson learned.”

“No you haven’t.”

“You know it.”

Seriously, how much work did these advanced courses give? Or was he just this bad at managing his time? And it’s not like you can help him with the rest of it either, you don’t have these classes.

You check your phone for the time, hearing your coworker putting away the chairs in the distance. Forty minutes have passed since you last looked; you guys really should get going.

“Well, you lost the bet, B/N. Pack up your stuff and let’s go.”

“Not yet! The shop hasn’t closed yet!”

“Just let them go home,” you whisper, pointing your thumb to your coworker who was now behind the pastry counter. ‘I mean, if you still want that damn kiss…’ you think, hoping he doesn’t figure out that he’s won that part.

B/N rolls his eyes and lazily lolls his head to look at the papers he has left to do. He looks so cute when he pouts.

You gather up the papers and tap them on the table, straightening them out and setting them down neatly in front of B/N. In a silent response, he takes the stack you offer and places it on top of his completed sheets.

Damn, didn;t get eveything done. He thinks. Then it registers in his head and he smiles a bit.

With a smile, he lifts his backpack onto the table, zipping it up all the way and patting it for good measure.

You clean your stuff up as well, the pencil, the eraser, and your phone all going into your small bag accordingly. It’s as if you’re still working when you pick up your empty cup, taking B/N’s as well to the trash and dumping them.

B/N stands up fully and straps on his backpack, waiting for you to join him as he strides toward the door. When he turns to see you catch up to him in his oversized hoodie, a smile lightly graces his face.

The garment practically swallows you whole; sleeves reaching past your palms, the torso going past your own and treading down to your hips. You look so good in his hoodie.

“Ready?” you ask, seeing his dazed expression.

He lightly shook his head, trying yet again to get you out of it. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Stepping into the cool autumn night, you flinch from the cold air that sweeps instantly around you, pulling yourself tighter into B/N’s hoodie. However, this didn’t escape B/N’s attention. He pulled his eyes away from your form and faced forward, hands in his pockets.

“Man, I just can’t believe we didn’t finish in time.” [Lies, he totally believes it, he made sure it happened.]

“You mean you didn’t finish in time. And you’re not that broken up about it because you just wanna kiss me.” You’re just as quick on your toes.

“Pfft, not broken up about it? Finals are in two days, Y/N.” He conveniently skips over the second part of your accusation. But yeah, ‘losing’ the bet is on his mind too.

“Whatever,” you sigh.

The conversation fades after that, the sounds of walking and rustling trees filling its place.

“So are you going to continue with that movie marathon without me?” he asks after a block or two slinks pass.

“After doing all your homework for you, I’m too exhausted to have a movie marathon. My brain is fried and I just want to go to bed now.”

“I mean… I could join you~”

“Shut up, B/N,” you laugh, nudging him with your elbow.

“But I could keep you warm!”

“Yeah, while you have the lamp on doing the rest of your homework? HAH I don’t think so.”

“...I don’t hear a ‘no’.”

You exasperatedly roll your eyes and keep walking. It’s not like you wouldn’t mind, but you refuse to give into him so easily. It’s not fun to give him what he wants immediately, ‘knaw mean?

The atmospheric melody returns once more as the walk to your home becomes shorter and shorter. The wind blows occasionally, making you shiver underneath the comfort of B/N’s hoodie. Absentmindedly, your face snuggles deeper into it, catching a full whiff of B/N’s smell: spearmint and cedar cologne. Like a calm walk through the woods, or like an aromatic sunrise. He bodies that well, you think.

Hopping up the steps of your home, you unlock the front door and retreat inside. B/N respectfully stands at the door, waiting for you to pop your head back out and tell him good night. And just as he anticipates, you do.

“Have a good night B/N. Walk safely.”

“You, too Y/N. And thanks for the help, by the way.”

“I would say ‘no problem’ but it interfered with our movie marathon and now I’m sad and tired.”

“Oh, shush and go to bed already, we can do it tomorrow night.”

You chuckle, gifting his ears one of the most pleasant sounds he’s ever heard (besides your wild out-loud laughter).

“But I’ll be collecting on my bet though, don’t think I forgot.” Dramatically, you roll your eyes at him, smiling at the sound of his chuckle. Inside though, he is a little disappointed he hadn't gotten to it sooner.

You bid him a good night and close the door, cutting you both off, alone with your thoughts in the semi-awkward atmosphere left between you two.

With the light of the moon high above him and the wind caressing his nape softly, B/N stares at your door for another moment.

The evening’s events cycle like a slideshow in his head; the image of you working behind the counter when you were still on the clock, then clips of you leaning over papers whilst reading and scribbling. That time when you released your hair from its binds and how your locks fell around your peaceful face. You in his sweater.

He’s forgotten his sweater.

Suddenly, the sound of a door opening grabs his attention, and he looks back up your steps to see your figure greet him once more, backlit by a warm yellow light as if you were a goddess stepping out of her home.

He glances up at you expectedly, thinking you have something left to say.

“Hm? Y/N, I thought you were going to bed.”

With a sigh, you walk carefully down the steps. “I will, eventually.” You get closer, getting B/N to think you’re pulling him into another goodnight hug.

“Then what are you-”

He stops as you take hold of his shirt collar and bring him down to eye level, looking him dead in the eye. He was surprised for sure, since this time you were the bold one. Amazing, the things late night coffee can do.

You’re close enough to whisper into his lips, noses barely touching.

“But I can’t sleep knowing I have a debt to pay, now can I?” You ask, smirking as it registers in B/N’s head. He smiles too, because he’s getting what he wanted.

Ever so softly, you lean forward. Your lips lightly meet his, like feathers landing on the ground after delicately gliding through the air. It’s innocent, yet long-lasting. He smiles into your lips as a gust of wind blows around you. He pushes a little further, letting his hands find home on the hem of his own sweater.

The soft sweater paws that held his collar slowly retreat with a teasing scroll down his chest. He takes a second to open his again as you pull away from the consolation kiss. Once they open, he watches as you slip off his hoodie in the cool breeze. He would be thinking about how effortlessly nice you look, but his whole being is floating, at the moment.

Though a warm blush decorates your face, you still have the courage to tease him a little more.

“Thanks for walking me home B/N, but next time, try not to lose a bet you know you aren’t ready for.”

And just like you had appeared, you disappear just as fast. B/N stares at your closed door in disbelief, his eyes wide and mouth slightly gaping in awe.

That just happened.

He looks down at his hands, seeing that you placed his hoodie in his open arms. With a slight laugh, his fingers tighten around the cloth, reminding himself of how cute you look in it. He might just let you keep it next time.

And with that thought warming his cheeks and a smile growing on his lips, he backs away from your door.

There are many things he thinks about on his walk home:

He has so much homework left to do

You kissed him, and he feels hella fantastic, not hella weird

He’s starting to get a headache from his caffeine intake tonight

He can’t wait to see you tomorrow morning during physics.

An all-nighter was worth it if he could lose a bet like this against you again...

Post Note: Me first trying the drink in this fic *per my journal lmao*: “It’s actually quite good because you get the welcoming (yet slightly overpowering) bitterness of the espresso, but it’s fantastically mellowed out by the coconut milk and met with a sweet after-tang of the grapefruit citrus. I’ll be up for the next few hours, but I’d definitely get this again. *finishes the pre-presentation course notes for the upcoming week* IT WORKS GUYS, I SWEAR” lmao YES I actually drank this 8-shot americano. Plz appreciate the struggle, good luck on midterms!

57 notes · View notes

chocafe · 7 years ago

Text

prom — chen linong

summary: in which linong, the shy boy in your chemistry class, takes you to prom with his pounding heart. pairing: shy!nongnong x reader a/n: zhengting + xiaogui + ziyi + xukun + chengcheng + yanjun + zhangjing + i’m making a prom series for every member in nine percent, so i’ll link them and make a masterlist once i complete them all :-)

BEFORE PROM

linong was always known to be a shy kid

if you weren’t his friend, then it’d be very rare for him to say a single word to you

not only that, but he even acknowledges how shy he is, so this always messes with his self confidence

he feels as if his shyness is the reason why he limits himself in so many ways

this time for prom, he won’t let this overcome him

it wasn’t until this school year that you and linong became friends

you both had the same chemistry class with not a single friend in there

the two of you were assigned to sit next to each other and you took this opportunity to befriend him since you noticed that everyone in the class had a friend in there except you guys

it took quite a while for linong open up to you

whenever you asked him to help you with your work, he would just simply give you the answers instead of explaining because he’s too afraid to hold an actual conversation

you would always try to greet him before class started and on some days you would compliment him whenever he wore his glasses when he wasn’t able to see in class

hUuuUuu glasses!linong is my favorite

whenever you did such a thing, he would look so awkward when he would respond back

it wasn’t until there was a partner project and of course, who would be linong’s partner except for you?

“linong?” you tapped his shoulder as he sat next to you

he stopped working on his classwork and looked up at you, awaiting to hear what more you had to say

“do you want to be my partner? i don’t have any friends in this class...”

hedoesn’thaveanyfriendsinthisclasseither

“s-sure.” he stuttered as you softly smiled at him

you both exchanged phone numbers, so you guys were able to work and communicate outside of school

the rest after that was history

not really history because you had that class with chengcheng

linong became comfortable with you and continued to talk and text you about anything even if it had nothing to do with chemistry

although, you two never had a chance to hang out outside of your shared class because of the different friend groups you guys were a part of

the only thing you two did outside of class was say hi to each other in the hallways or text through your cellphones

there were occasional skype calls from here and there whenever you didn’t understand the homework your teacher gave out

even though linong was able to open up to you, he still had a lingering feeling of how he should act in your presence because he might of gained a little crush on you

but that’s a secret he’ll keep to himself

once prom came along, everyone was asking each other from left and right

honestly, linong wanted to ask you to prom, but he was to shy to do so and didn’t know how he should to begin with

“should i make a poster? should i do a flashmob? what if y/n doesn’t like extravagant things? should i keep it simple and just ask her in person? maybe through text?”

“nongnong, stop over thinking. i’m sure they’ll be fine with whatever. it’s you who’s asking overall. your face makes up for it.”

FACT: linong was the cutest person on campus. i don’t make the rules here.

rumors began to spread that a particular basketball player, named xukun, was going to ask you to prom during lunch

justin: bROOOOOOO

justin: BALL HEAD BOY XUKUN IS GOING TO ASK Y/N TO PROM

justin: BITCH YOU BETTER ASK THEM SOON IF YOU DONT WANT TO GO TO PROM ALONE SJSKSHSKSISK

linong received justin’s text during the class that you shared with him

he looked up from his phone and slowly at you

right after chemistry was lunch and once the bell rang, he knew that it’d be too late

without realizing, the bell rang twice and everyone was dismissed from class

“y/n!” linong quickly shouted as he grabbed his belongings and followed you down the hallways

“yeah, what’s up?” you innocently asked as you stopped in front of him, clenching onto the book that was placed against your chest

“you’re going to prom, right?” he asked as he scratched the back of his neck

“i told you the other day that i was. did you forget that quickly?” you chuckled as teased him

“u-u-um uh.” he didn’t know how to start this off. this was all too soon for him. “i was wondering if you wanted to go to prom with me? it’s totally fine if you don’t want to! i completely understand!”

“linong, i would love to!”

if only you can imagine how much at ease he was once he heard that come out of your mouth

“really?” he couldn’t believe it

“yes, really! it would be very fun to have you as my date. i look forward to it!”

after the conversation was over, linong couldn’t help, but to repeat the whole story to his friends again

“and then she said, ‘LINONG, I WOULD LOVE TOOOOOO’”

“omg can you please calm down this is your third time telling this to us.”

and also during lunch

“y/n, would you perhaps go to prom with me?” xukun asked as he charmingly held your hand

“i’m sorry, but i’m already going with linong.” you nicely rejected him, pushing his hand away. “but your hand is really soft by the way!!!”

PROM DAY

HE’S THE SWEETEST BABY EVER

when he came over to your house, on the day of prom, he brought two bouquet of flowers

one for you and the other for your mother

“y/n, you need to marry him asap.” your mom whispered into your ear

“we’re just friends!”

since neither of you guys knew how to drive, your parents drove you two to prom

the car was overwhelmed with questions your parents were throwing at linong

“linong, i heard you have chemistry with y/n.”

“ah, yes i do!” he would answer as he nervously plays with his fingers

“are you failing that class just like y/n?”

“DAD, PLEASE STOP TALKING”

“what’s the relationship between the both of you?” your mom would ask with her eyebrow raised up

before you could answer, it seemed like linong was quicker than you

“we’re not dating... yet.”

linong’s ears turned red and he felt like digging his own gave

because HOW DID HE SUDDENLY GAIN THE STRENGTH TO SAY SOMETHING SO BOLD LIKE THAT

you didn’t correct linong because he was right in some way

to be honest, linong and you were not much of a dancer

you looked like a worm if you tried to dance and linong had just never tried to in the past

since the dance floor was filled with people, you guys took this opportunity to venture out and explore the venue

this year, your prom took place at a art museum

so you two used your time to look at the art pieces and walk around the quiet hallways

everyone was too busy dancing to notice such a thing

you and linong were sharing opinions on the paintings you guys walked past

not only that, but you guys were talking about whatever ran through your head

you’re telling him your embarrassing stories from your middle school years and he’s telling you how justin almost got them arrested just a week ago

justin is wild don’t underestimate that kid

the hallways were empty, with not a single person in sight, and there’s a distant sound of music playing in the background

linong anxiously reaches out and holds your hand as the two of you walk

you can feel his hand trembling, but you found it adorable how nervous he was because it showed how much he truly cared about this moment

in response, you held his hand in return and slightly tightened the grip to give him some reassurance

since you were still able to hear the blasting music from the hallways, you noticed when the song suddenly switched to a slow song

“m-may i have this dance with you?” he stuttered for the first time that night

“of course, my handsome prince.”

linongdiedwhydidyouhavetocallhimahandsomeprincewiththatcutefaceofyours

he’s internally screaming like always

you grabbed his other hand and the two of you steadily slow danced in front of the lovely paintings

linong found you more astonishing than the paintings hanging on the wall

but that’s for him to know and you to wonder

“thank you, y/n.” linong abruptly said

“for what?” you questioned him

“for agreeing to go to prom with me and trying so hard to befriend me when i would say so little.”

“you noticed how hard i tried?” your cheeks had a hint of a pink tint because of how embarrassed you were

linong got you. usually, it’s you who made him blush, but finally the roles had switched

“i mean, if i didn’t notice then maybe we wouldn’t be in this position right now. everyone usually stops trying with me, but to know you kept on trying really makes me feel better about myself.” linong stopped to flash his signature bright smile at you. “you’re really something special.”

you couldn’t handle it

linong was making your heart burst and it wasn’t fair in your opinion

you suddenly broke his grasp and placed both of your hands onto the sides of linong’s face

you pulled him down to your height and kissed him gracefully on the lips

once you were done kissing, linong had no idea what to say because he was truly at lost for words

since he was at lost for words, he used his actions instead and kissed you once more to continue the previous one

maybe prom wasn’t all about dancing

it gave you an opportunity to finally be with the one you always wanted to be with

in all honesty, you liked being in linong’s presence and you could care less about prom now

it had felt like you and linong were the only ones existing in this world of ours

you two had chemistry after all

#chen linong #linong #nongnong #chen linong imagine #linong imagine #chen linong scenario #linong scenario #idol producer #idol producer scenario #idol producer imagine #nine percent #nine percent imagine #nine percent scenario #linong scenarios #linong imagines #nine percent scenarios #nine percent imagines #✎

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stoopsbookstore · 7 years ago

Text

Daggers (Part 4)

Warnings - creepiness, violence, fooling around, general fuckery, The Guy (Yes! More creepiness from The Guy) A mention of the previous attack, mentions of killing, drugs

Besides the awkwardness inside the car that only Y/N could seem to sense and a traffic jam, the group arrived at the massive campus alive. The giant sign above the gates read "Woodlake School of Academics."

"Here we are. Now, me and Haechan have to go, our class starts in 5."

"We have to wait for Doyoung-Hyung and Winwin-Hyung. They're in the class as well."

"Alright, I guess we can wait for them."

A girl ran up to Y/N, spooking Haechan, and hugged her, "Oh my god, I'm so happy to see you."

"Jeong-Jeong, you just saw me 48 hours ago."

"Dressed in gross scrubs. So, what's this rumor that you have 9 new handsome bodyguards?"

"No, my dad decided to do some good will and some of the transfer students are staying with us for a while."

Sejeong squealed, "are any of them cute?"

Y/N started to tell her about the night before. "There's one guy, Jaehyun. We almost fuc- No, God no, none are cute," Y/N said a little too fast, when she noticed Taeyong, who tagged along with them since his class was next door, Winwin, Doyoung and Haechan appear.

Sejeong whispered to Y/N, "You are to tell me everything later tonight."

"Why don't you just come over?"

"I have a date with that guy I've been talking to, Hyuk."

The four guys seemed to have stiffened at the name, but neither of the girls noticed.

"I'll tell you everything in exchange for you know," she winked, "see you later, Lynn-Lynn."

Cringing at the nickname, Y/N mocks her friend's tone, "text me after, Jeong-Jeong."

Sejeong ran off and the guys pulled Y/N into the classroom.

"Who's that Hyuk guy she was talking about?" Taeyong asked.

"Just a guy at another school she's had a crush on forever, tall, nice eyes, really cute," Y/N listed off reasons as if she was the one with the crush on the male. While she walked to her chair, Winwin nudged Doyoung in the side, trying not to get mad, with his ears perking up when Y/N confessed, "but he's not my type. He's perfect for Sejeong, though."

The teacher walked in, shooing Taeyong off, as Doyoung looked like he was ready to start a full-fledged integration on Y/N. Haechan whispered to Doyoung, "Hyuk, isn't he the guy who almost kil-"

"Yes, now shut up and focus,” Doyoung growled.

The class went by smoothly, Y/N turned in her classwork and got 98% on it. Thanking Haechan for the study tools, she ran to meet Jaehyun. She waited for him to appear, but 5 minutes went by with nothing. 10 minutes, 15 minutes, finally Jaehyun appeared.

"I'm sorry, kitten, this is a strange school."

"I figured you would've known which stairwell to go to, seeing as you were the one who set this location," Y/N joked, blushing at Jaehyun's new name for her.

Jaehyun looked at her, eyes bugged out, until he remembered, "Oh yeah, I just assume that every school has that one place where there's no cameras and isn't on the path for most of the people."

"You got me there, no one ever comes to this hallway, it's haunted," Y/N did a silly dance and extended the final word to Jaehyun's laughter.

“Luckily, I don’t believe in ghosts.”

“They’re real, though!”

Y/N saw Jaehyun's face go all serious after their little ghost quip.

"So," she said, gaining the dirty blond's attention," what did you want to talk about?"

"Last night. I'm sorry if you felt like it was too soon. Like I said, I normally don't move that fast, especially if that person is a roommate of mine and she's the daughter of a C.E.O. and definitely not after a day after she was almost raped and killed."

Y/N walked up and kissed his cheek, "Jae, it's fine. I wouldn't have gone that far if I didn't want to. I think you're attractive, you hopefully think I'm attractive."

Jaehyun chuckled, "I definitely do."

"And it was a small room with a storm going on, that's literally a romcom movie or a fanfic scenario and it just so happened to us."

Jaehyun sighed and before he could say anything else, the alarm for Y/N's second and final class of the day went off.

"Offer still stays, we can try again tonight, same time."

The next class Y/N had was statistics, she didn't think she shared this class with any of the guys until she spotted Doyoung and Johnny sitting where she would normally sat.

"Haechan told us you always sit near windows," Johnny spoke up.

"Yeah," Y/N said with a gasp, shocked that Haechan noticed that, "when it's sunny, it feels so good and it's peaceful when it's raining."

Doyoung scoffed at the last remark, catching Johnny's attention. Johnny kicked his shin before getting up and moving to the table in front of Y/N's.

"You can take it, I can't stand the cold, this weather needs to make up its mind."

The entire class saw how well Y/N was getting along with the new transfers until one girl, Courtney, came up and pushed Y/N off the seat, landing on the floor with a thud.

"Courtney Adriane Peters, at your service," she held her hand out, waiting for it to be shaken, "I heard about the transfer students, but I didn't think they would be so se-"

"Can I help you?" Doyoung asked seriously, "you just pushed our friend off the seat and I don't think she appreciates that." Johnny helped Y/N off the floor.

"Oh, that's right... she's apparently screwing some of y'all. Wouldn't put it past her after the 'attack'," Courtney said with air quotes, "she probably was gonna screw him, changed his mind and said it was an attack, I know her daddy would get her off."

Courtney turned to Y/N, who had rage and sadness in her eyes, "I bet they don't even know why you had to be adopted."

"It's none of our business," Johnny finally spoke.

"It's a juicy story, her mom killed her father, her mom went on the run, little Y/N Jaqueline Louis on her own."

Y/N was visibly upset at this point and ended up walking out. Doyoung was seething in his seat and ended up following Y/N, leaving Johnny in the class with Courtney trying to get in his pants.

"For someone who's so angry, you walk very fast," Doyoung, catching up to Y/N, said.

"Just tell Johnny I'll see him and Taeil at the mal-"

"I'll walk you there, we can get to know each other," the tall boy spoke with a gummy grin, attempting to calm Y/N down, "maybe we can get some ice cream."

"You know, me being seen with a bunch of boys is gonna be a field day for Courtney."

Doyoung texted Johnny, telling him to write good notes that he can steal later. Johnny texted something back, but when Y/N tried to snoop, Doyoung immediately shut off the screen and threw it in his bag, "While we're walking, you can tell me why Courtney doesn't like you."

"She doesn't like that a powerful C.E.O. adopted me. She is that stereotypical rich bitch who cries when the spotlight isn't on her. Literally. Last semester I took a class with her and she was the lead. She had a mental fucking breakdown because someone else had a monologue."

Doyoung chuckled, "wow, so she's just never liked you?"

"She also claims I stole Sejeong from her. Sejeong was on the cheer squad, but her mom decided to put her in the same psychology class as me, we bonded over our mutual dislike for the teacher and the rest is history."

"Oohh," he exclaimed, "So this Hyuk guy?"

"Oh, they've been talking for like 2 months now, she just got out of a relationship with some girl named Heejun and Hyuk's the only person who's made her feel like an actual human instead of just a sex doll." The light turned green for them and they ran across to avoid getting hit by someone making a right-hand turn.

"Johnny and Taeil said they'll be here in any minute now, Johnny said the teacher did not show up at all and class was cancelled, 15 minute rule," Doyoung pouted, looking at his phone.

"Dude, we live together, don't pout."

"But we were just getting along, who knows how long that will last until Haechan starts pitting us against each other in a prank war where someone will end up naked in the middle of the football singing Old Smokey."

Y/N stopped in place, shocked to hear what the guy just said.

"You think he's quiet and innocent, he's actually Satan, or at least a descendant."

Y/N bit her lip to stop herself from laughing and Doyoung had to stop himself from staring. He didn't realize Johnny and Taeil were sneaking up behind him to spook him. While the four were laughing, a guy come up to Y/N, grabbing her ass and trying to get an upskirt shot of her. Taeil pushed the guy away.

"Dude, what the fuck? It was a joke" The creep said, getting up from the floor and before he could retaliate, Johnny got in front of him.

"Not a smart idea."

The guy, seeing Johnny's height, slowly backed away, mumbling "It was just a joke."

Taeil got a text and tapped at Doyoung on his shoulder.

"Doyoung, we need to go, Mr. Connors assigned us a project for film class. I'm sorry, Y/N, I was really hoping to spend some time with you and get to know you, but we can talk some other time. Doyoung, let's go." He said, seemingly in one breath.

"Oh Ok. Johnny, we don't have to stay here." Y/N told the tall guy standing next to her.

"No, we can stay, only 2 are needed for a party."

Johnny and Y/N walked around the mall, running through the different stores. 3 hours later, most of the good stores closing with the exception of Spencer's, so as a joke, they decided to look around.

"You would go to the back, wouldn't you?" Y/N joked.

After the mall, they were heading home, Johnny was wondering why Y/N's birth parents were such a touchy subject. Before he could say a word, Y/N broke the silence.

"Thank you, and tell Doyoung and Taeil thank you. It's something I'm used to, so it's nice for someone to stand up for me"

"Yeah, no problem. That guy was a dick, he'll get what's coming to him," Johnny said confidently. "Let me ask you something."

"No, I'm not really a princess from a foreign country."

"Ha-ha, no. It's a serious questi-"

"You want to know about my birth parents?"

"Yeah."

Y/N took a deep breath in.

"The story I've always been told was my dad was a druggie. He was hooked on everything. One night when I was younger, he came home. He was tearing through the house and started to attack my mom. She fought him off and then he tried to go after me and she, of course, didn't take too well to that. She picked me up, put me in my room, grabbed the closest thing and killed him. She called the cops, saying she thinks there was a domestic dispute and a child was in the house. She ran, They came, took me in, put me in foster care and the rest was history."

They walked in silence, for neither had nothing to say, back to the house. Johnny was once again going to speak up until Y/N just left him with a simple "I'm going to bed."

After she went to her room, Johnny ran up to the 3rd floor lounge to see the other 8 guys waiting for him.

"What the actual fuck, Doyoung? Why did you leave?"

"Mark texted us, that asshole said he's gonna expose Y/N's dad."

"What the fuck happened last night, I thought he was supposed to be dead."

Four of the guys went out last night, following the guy as he left a bar, drunk off his ass and high as kite. One of the guys went up to him to "steal" his wallet, another one knocked him out and the last 2 tied him up.

"That bitch deserved it," the guy spat out blood at the man who was holding a bat, he started to swing at the guy until he found a voice from his friend, "Calm down, he's just trying to get you riled up."

"Come on," the guy laughed, "you've clearly seen her, her face plastered everywhere, you don't think she'll be a good fuck? Those luscious lips, painted with that innocent pink lip color? Those short skirts she wears, just begging to pulled down? she probably wears nice little thongs or cute lace boysh-"

The male dropped the baseball bat and started punching the guy's face, seemingly beating him to death. Sirens started to come closer and the guys scattered, leaving the guy to bleed out.

"We thought he was dead, Hyung." Haechan said, ashamed of himself.

Taeyong, noticing the atmosphere, spoke, "we should probably get to bed. We'll figure things out later."

A little bit past 1am, the Guy crept into Y/N's room where she was laying, peaceful and soundly asleep. The moonlight shined on her, making her looking even more like a goddess. As he crawled into bed with her, she noticed the shift in weight. She started to wake up, but the Guy cuddled up to her side.

"If you wanted to cuddle, you could've just asked, Jae," she said in a sleepy voice. The Guy just simply groaned back and she went back to sleep.

"You will be mine one day soon," he said with a smirk on his face while he starts to slip into his own slumber.

#nct #dong sicheng #doyoung #haechan #jaehyun #johnny #mark lee #taeil #winwin #taeyong #yuta #nct reactions #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct au #nct imagines #my writings

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d0gdaze · 7 years ago

Text

The body swap au a surprising amount of people asked for, actually.

Read on AO3 / Summary

Pairings: Eddie Kaspbrak / Richie Tozier

Warnings: swearing, sexual references

Chapter 6/?

Prev | Next

Word Count: 4494

Eddie’s playlist

Seven uninspired oral presentations and a valiant attempt to set Richie on fire with his mind later – one day he would actually accept the fact he wasn't telekinetic, he swore he would – the bell rang and class was dismissed, and Eddie followed the outpour of students into the hallway. He scanned the sea of people, locating the maroon-clad boy fairly easily with his newfound height advantage. He strode over, completely ignoring and bypassing Beverly's questioning stare, and pulled Richie aside rather aggressively, so he had him pretty much trapped between himself and the wall of lockers.

“What the hell, Dick,” he spat through his teeth, attempting to keep his voice low to avoid capturing attention. (Sidenote, it didn't work, Eddie was just a habitually loud person, but considering what the rest of the school had witnessed in the cafeteria the day before, no one really gave the couple as much as a second glance. Most of them assumed it was probably just Trashmouth Tozier spitting some empty threats at the Kaspbrak kid, and nothing more. Which, sidenote, wasn't that far from the truth. All in all, time was sparse, classes needed attending, and no one really cared enough to watch a second fight in two days between the same two weirdos. Eddie could have probably been screeching at the top of his lungs and no one would bat an eyelid. Such is highschool. Anyway, back to your regularly scheduled programming.) “AC/DC? Are you serious?”

“What, not your taste?” Richie smirked, thoroughly amused with himself. “Should I have gone with someone in the Weather Girls instead?”

“Why didn't you just give the presentation you wrote for yourself?” Eddie's face, like his voice, was an interesting mix of anger, desperation, and terribly faux collectiveness. Richie thought his eyebrows might get permanently stuck with how hard he was creasing them.

“Mine wasn't supposed to be until next week,” Richie said, matter-of-factly, “I wasn't even gonna start thinking about it until at least next Tuesday.”

Eddie nearly blanched, as if hearing that should have been even slightly shocking.

“Richie, I swear to god if I fail that class because of you I'm gonna-,” he brought his hand up and back, and Richie flinched, bracing himself for the incoming slap. Eddie exhaled shakily and dropped his arm back to his side, then closed his eyes, letting out a defeated sigh. “What do you have now?”

“Art, you?”

“P.E.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

Eddie dragged his hands down his face in exasperation, then sighed again, as if to make some sort of point that Richie was pretty sure had already been made.

“Okay, this is fine,” he said, though judging by the complete lack of composure on his face, he was lying. “We're fine,” he repeated, “just-, try to get through today without ruining my entire life, think you can manage that?”

“Depends,” Richie crossed his arms over his chest defensively, “can you?”

Eddie sighed for a third time. Richie, quite frankly, was getting a little tired of Eddie's overdramatic ass.

“Just-” he tried to come up with a comeback, then decided against it. Because they were late enough to class as it was, of course, and not because he couldn't think of one. “Let's go to class.”

Richie nodded, though somewhat reluctant to agree and very much content to not go to class at all.

Eddie turned heel and left before the confrontative side of his brain could win him over.

Bill often dragged Ben and Eddie along to the art studios when their free periods overlapped or sometimes during lunch breaks if they decided they'd rather not brave the cafeteria. Bill would continue whatever new passion project he was working on, Ben would listen to music and read or study, and Eddie would consider doing homework and then do anything else, usually involving rambling on about whatever while Bill politely pretended to listen. It was decidedly one of the nicer aspects of the school, with big windows covering one wall and an abundance of posters and prints of famous paintings covering the others, student projects cluttering up shelves and racks and easels, coloured acrylic splattered on every surface, air filled with the mingling musty scents of clay and paint and something vaguely septic. And for someone with no sort of artistic talent whatsoever, Eddie had a quiet appreciation for it. It didn't feel like a classroom. If anything, the organised chaos and laid-back atmosphere gave it a very homely feel. He could understand why Bill was so content spending most of his free time there.

People were still milling around when he got there, settling onto paint stained wooden stools situated around three long tables. In the middle of each sat a woven basket overflowing with assorted fruit, spilling out onto an artfully crumpled stretch of sheen fabric. He made his best effort to look casual as he waited for most seats to be filled before he sat down, letting process of elimination aid him in figuring out which seat was Richie's regular one. He eventually pulled up a stool in between two occupied ones, one by a rather eccentric looking lass with several piercings that he could see (and undoubtedly plenty he couldn't), haphazardly applied makeup, and a hairstyle that surely had to be against school policy, the other a boy wearing a beanie that was pulled down nearly over his eyes and a black t-shirt with a band logo on it that Eddie had never heard of but already hated. He shuffled slightly in his seat, subconsciously folding in on himself. Sure, first impressions aren't always right, and he knew they were probably pleasantly decent and decently pleasant people, but that didn't mean he had to brush elbows with them. Thankfully, neither of them seemed to take much notice of him anyway.

He shrugged his backpack off his shoulders and brought it around to sit on his lap, and opened it up. There really wasn't much in it, a few loose scraps of paper, homework handouts and the like, a few more that were crumpled up into balls, a pen or two floating around, a couple of cheap lighters, a small brown paper bag that he was not going to investigate, a notebook – which he had discovered in History class contained the written work for all of Richie's classes with no obvious attempt at categorisation whatsoever – and a spiral bound sketchbook. He pulled the last item out, sitting it on the table in front of him and letting the bag slide to the floor by his feet. He flipped the book open.

Name: Seymour Butz.

Class: Easy Credit.

Eddie restrained himself from rolling his eyes and turned the page, wary yet intrigued about what the rest of the book looked like.

It turned out to be a mixed bag of crude stick-figure comic strips – most unfinished or completely nonsensical –, a handful of pages just scribbled on until there was no white space left, a number of tic-tac-toe games that he seemingly played with himself, and, very occasionally, actual classwork.

And dicks.

A lot of dicks.

An abundance, one might say.

Like, on almost every page.

And not in the tasteful nudity figure study way either. While there were a few more detailed spectacles, most were more on the cartoonish, bathroom stall graffiti side, you know the ones. In all colours, shapes, sizes, and artistic mediums.

Eddie was disappointed, but really not surprised, and a little flustered thanks to one particularly intricately shaded double spreader.

He quickly flipped through until he found a blank, phallic-less page, just as the teacher – he didn't know her name – brought the class's attention to the board and informed them they were doing still lifes – a term Eddie had never heard before and was honestly a bit confused by, fruit is not alive – in any medium they feel like, and then left them to their own devices. A bit of quiet chatter picked up, but nothing irritating. He grabbed a graphite pencil off the table, stared down the centrepiece, and got started.

Richie got to the gym in a record breaking time of sixteen minutes, the main contributor to his tardiness being that he previously had no idea where it was. Four years of avoiding any sort of sport, career fair, or school assembly left him with a pretty limited mental map of the school. He had his daily route that took him to his necessary classes, the cafeteria, and his regular smoking spot under the bleachers. And he had never found any sort of issue with that. Until now.

He dumped his backpack onto one of the benches in the boys locker room, and immediately wondered why Eddie would ever go in there. Everything smelt like perspiration and dirty socks and boy. Everything looked dewy and unclean. Every flat surface had been graffitied and vandalised – his eyes drifted to a tag he recognised as one Bev used to use, and he was definitely going to ask her about that later. There was a bandaid stuck to the floor by his feet. It was gross – and if Eddie could get worked up to the point of a public standoff because a stain on his shirt, surely he would never willingly step foot in a locker room.

Richie, however, was right at home.

He zipped the backpack open and shuffled a few books around before pulling out a plastic bag with, assumedly, Eddie's school uniform in it. After a second of consideration, he ripped the plastic to get it open rather than untying the knot, and grabbed the clothes before letting the empty bag fall discarded to the floor. He quickly shucked the shirt he was wearing and pulled the new one on. Just as he began to work on undoing his jeans, his eyes fell to the shorts. And he remembered.

Oh fuck no.

He lifted the bright red monstrosity, pinching the elastic waistband with both hands so they were on full display, and damn near scowled. Somehow they were more hideous up close. And so much shorter than he recalled, if that was even possible. His expression then could only be described as pure desperation. He should have just packed up and went home.

But he couldn't even do that, he thought, it's not his home anymore.

He sighed in defeat. Whatever scrap of dignity he still had left buried deep inside him was shrivelling up and dying.

He put the shorts on.

To add to his complete and utter dismay, Physical Education class apparently involved a lot physical activity. He was welcomed into the gymnasium by a chorus of shoes squeaking on vinyl flooring, with the occasional whistle blow accompanied by a booming voice shouting orders like “knees up! No slacking! Quit being a bunch of pussies! I have a power complex to compensate for my tiny dick!”

Well, maybe not those words exactly.

They were doing laps. Running. Richie would rather gnaw through his own ankles.

No one really seemed to take much notice of him skulking around near the entrance – that or they didn't care –, and he was about to make like a tree and get the hell out of there when -

“Dude, coach was totally bugging out, where were you?”

He turned around to see one of Eddie's nerd friends – the one without the stutter, though that's about the extent of the information he had – who was panting lightly and looking at him like he had just committed a crime – which he was sure he hadn't, unless wearing gym shorts two sizes too small counts as criminal, which it should, in Richie's opinion –, the tone of his voice indicating that he must have actually been walking around the school lost for three and a half years and not just sixteen minutes. Richie blinked at him.

“Everything okay?” Nerd Friend asked, starting to look worried.

Richie wanted to scream. No!, he would say, nothing is okay! I've got a curse on me! I got kicked out of my own body! I would barely be five foot five in stilettos! I can't reach the top of my locker! My worst enemy is walking around looking like me and dressed like a mormon! And he stole my ride to school! I'm pretty sure everyone can see my entire ass in these shorts! The weather is terrible! And now I'm getting chastised for showing up slightly late to a class I don't even want to be at! Nothing makes sense and nothing is okay!!!

“Yeah,” he said, “sure.”

A harsh whistle blow interrupted the start of Nerd Friend's next question, and they both turned their heads to look towards the coach, who was glaring at them and looked to be a couple of seconds away from marching over and dragging them back by their ears.

“Come on,” he said, and jogged back over, falling into a gap before working up to matching the rest of the class's pace. Richie took a deep breath and followed.

Eddie left class with a barely half finished and poorly executed fruit portrait – he had spent so long trying (and failing) to get the shading on one particular grape and ended up wasting a good portion of the hour. So he wasn't the best at time management, big deal – and a grey lead smudge on the side of his right hand hand that wasn't coming off and was really just getting worse with how much he was rubbing at it.

He had about a five minute timeframe to find Richie and swap schedules, because he was apparently too busy being annoyed to remember to do it earlier, so he walked with purpose, which turned out to be difficult when your legs have been replaced with knobbly stilts and you're approximately three feet taller than any human should be.

He was passing the language department when someone was suddenly linking their arm with his and pulling him off his course.

“Where're you off to in such a rush, buttercup?” Beverly M- something crooned, flashing him an easy smile that he didn't understand the meaning behind. She easily navigated them through the crowded hallway, headed towards the heavy doors leading out to the field.

“Uh,” he responded, sidestepping quickly to avoid colliding with someone's elbow as they widely swung their backpack on. Beverly's steps did not falter for a moment. “Class?” He continued, wondering why that was not the obvious answer. She responded with a laugh, unashamed, bright, and boisterous.

“Wow, first the new wardrobe and now you're skipping out on skipping? Who are you and what have you done with Richie Tozier?”

You have no idea, he thought. She punctuated her sentence with a grin and tightened her grip on his arm, walking through the doors and down the small flight of stairs just as the bell rang.

She led him out along the abandoned path around the skirts of the field until they reached the bleachers, standing proudly in all their rickety glory. Eddie didn't trust the bleachers; the support beams looked too frail and a few sections were in dire need of repair. Luckily, he never really had any need to use them, having no interest in attending football or baseball games, or rallies unless they had something to with his track, in which case he was on the field anyway.

He especially didn't feel like sitting underneath the bleachers, where, besides the risk of the whole thing collapsing on top of them, it was also dirty, and smelled like something that Eddie was pretty confident wasn't a legal substance, and there were so many cigarette butts littering the ground and so much chewing gum stuck to the underside of the seats that they may as well have been sitting inside a dumpster. Beverly did not seem to share the same concerns as he did, though, as she proceeded en route to the second stand over, and then proceeded to sit. On the grass. Wearing a skirt!

She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a red and white carton and a plastic lighter decorated in variously coloured star-shaped stickers. She flicked a cigarette out of the case and put the end of it between her lips before lighting it.

She seemed to lose herself for a moment then, closing her eyes when she inhaled. Eddie watched, mildly curious, as she took it between her fingers and held her breath for what felt like a few seconds too long before breathing out, the greyish smoke filtering through slightly parted lips and then dissipating in the air between them. She smiled, barely, a slight tug at the corner of her mouth.

“Are you waiting for an invitation or something?” she said, blinking one eye open and disrupting his thoughts.

“Huh?”

She patted the ground beside her, and managed to make it look sarcastic. He realised he was either going to have to sit down and be filthy and uncomfortable and risk lung cancer, or look like an insane person and hightail it out of there.

He sat down.

“So,” she started, after taking another drag. It smelt awful. He did his best to hide his disgust. He was only really successful in that because she wasn't facing him. “What's the 411 babe?”

Before he could even start to form a coherent sentence, she was offering him the open carton, holding it up in front of his face. He swallowed, leaning away from the box as if it might start spitting acid. (And it might have! For all he knew it could detect his fear!) He tried to think of a plan of action, but any option that immediately came to mind didn't really feel like it would be subtle enough. Smack the box out of her hand and stomp it into the ground, grab it and throw it as far away as he could and then bolt when she went to retrieve it, just start screaming bloody murder at the top of his lungs, tell the principal, call the police, call his mom, call child protective services, etcetera.

(He did not, at any point in this state of internal panic, think to politely refuse.)

“Rich?”

“YOU'RE GONNA DIE.”

Beverly, for some reason, looked rather affronted by the … warning? Threat? Prophecy? Nihilistic realisation? Whatever it was, though Eddie was just about as shocked, possibly even more so.

“Uh,” she started after an extended pause, when the echo produced by his sudden outburst faded out, “okay?”

“Cigarettes,” he said, the part of his brain that was definitely not the logical one deciding to take the reigns and push him further into his hole, “they're really bad for you, and smoking is the leading cause of cancer, and your lungs are gonna go black and all your teeth will fall out and you'll get mouth ulcers and burn holes in your throat and then you won't be able to eat and you'll have to put a tube in your stomach and it'll be horrible and painful and slow and then you'll die.”

She stared at him, then glanced back down to the cigarette still burning in between her fingers, then back at him. He regretted not running.

Then she laughed. Well, more of a snort than a laugh, and put the cigarette back between her lips.

“Is that like, one of your new characters or something?” she asked, words slightly muffled as she talked around the object in her mouth. “It's kinda shit, but alright.”

Eddie watched as she continued to smoke, even after he assaulted her with the most sudden and blunt anti-smoking campaign to ever be presented.

“Ha,” she continued, blowing the smoke out of her nose this time, like a dragon, or a tea kettle, or something, “work on it and you might have a decent Kaspbrak impression on your hands. That'll be some good ammo for ya.”

Richie did not like running.

He really did not like running for thirty minutes straight.

And he especially did not like running for thirty minutes straight while getting aggressively ordered around by some middle aged balding dude in a baseball cap. There were several times during the lesson when he had to stop himself from marching up to Mr. Tinydick and shoving that silver whistle so far up his ass that it got lodged in his throat and he choked to death.

He nearly crawled back to the locker rooms at the end of it, worried that his legs would just give out at any second, or that he would straight-up pass out from exertion. There was sweat literally dripping off him and his heart felt like it might actually burst out of his chest.

“Jeez,” Nerd Friend had said to him as he was slumped over on the bench seat with a towel around his shoulders, focusing all his remaining energy (of which there wasn't much) on staying conscious, “I've never seen you this tired out from a run.”

He wanted to return with some vulgar comeback, the first to mind was, 'oh yeah? Should have seen me with your mom last night. Yowza!' but what actually came out of his mouth was a drawn out, croaky whine, like the last sound you imagine a raccoon to make after it gets run over by a semi-trailer. Nerd Friend laughed softly and held out his hand.

“Okay, you really need a shower. Let's go.”

And so, after spending way too long standing under a busted shower hear with lukewarm water running down his back, making very little effort to actually, you know, clean himself, he was back in the locker room with a bunch of other dudes in various states of undress. Great!

He quickly got dressed and shoved the shorts as far as he could into the backpack, vowing to burn them as soon as he got home.

He made his exit just as the bell rang, – which was annoyingly loud on this side of the school. Between that and the coach's whistle, no wonder Eddie was so fucking tone-deaf. The hallways started to flood with students once more, the majority of them taking absolutely no notice of him as he tried to navigate through, being rammed into and jostled around like a human pinball until he could make his way to the side of the walkway. He huffed in frustration, standing against the wall as he waited for the crowd to disperse a little.

Damn shortstack, he thought, how do you live like this?

When the coast was relatively clear and the danger of getting actually trampled by his peers was gone, he kept walking. It was Wednesday, third period, which meant he was supposed to be meeting Bev to go smoke. He had no fucking idea what Eddie did during this time – probably attended class, like a prep, which he really was way too tired to even think about doing.

He decided to go find Eddie, though he wasn't entirely sure what he would do or say once he did. He walked out the double doors leading out to the quad, his calves protesting every step with a dull ache. From where he was, he would half to walk at least halfway across the field to get to the their usual spot under the bleachers, which, despite really not being that big of a deal, felt like he was being asked to climb Mount Everest in that moment. Except he wouldn't get to meet the president and get a cover story in the newspaper, or whatever it was that people who climbed Mount Everest were awarded with. Maybe it was just satisfaction and bragging rights. That sounded stupid. He would at least want a medal.

And so he began his ascent. It took all of a minute and a half for him to get close enough to see that Bev was already there – with Eddie. Of course. He couldn't help but feel a twang of betrayal, even though he knew that she had no idea what she was doing. For all she knew, that was Richie, just … dressed different. And more of an asshole than he was yesterday. And probably – definitely – not willing to touch a cigarette with a ten foot pole, all of a sudden. Yeah, she would have no reason to question the situation whatsoever.

Neither of them had seen him yet, but he could hear Eddie frantically going off about something that was undoubtedly out of character for Richie. He groaned. This boy was never going to make it in the world of show-business.

“Speak of the devil,” Beverly said, nodding towards the approaching figure. Eddie's head whipped around to see Richie – who looked horrifically dishevelled and so not up to his standards, dear god – trying to get his attention with jerky hand gestures. “Is he waving at you?”

“Uh,” Eddie replied, trying to figure out the what message Richie was trying to send through this weird interpretive dance, “I have to go.”

He stood and brushed off the seat of his pants more than he needed to before walking over. She said something that he didn't quite catch but didn't turn back to ask.

“What are you doing?” he asked through clenched teeth, pulling him into a stride beside him back in the direction of the school building.

“Trying to stop you from making a complete idiot out of me,” Richie replied.

“Yeah, you do that enough on your own,” he spat back, smugly.

“Not the time, shit-for-brains.”

“Says you.”

“Says your mom.” “That doesn't make sense.”

“Your mom doesn't make- argh,” he stopped walking, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Really not the time. You need to seriously chill out, dude.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What I'm talking about is you can't be giving lectures, washing your hands fifteen times an hour, or freaking out about everything. You need to not be yourself,” he huffed, “you need to be – uh –”

“You?”

“Exactly. Me. Be cool.”

“Okay, well, I can be one or the other, I mean –”

Richie gave him a pointed look. Eddie sighed.

“Look, it's not that easy, okay? In case you couldn't tell, I've never been in this fucking situation before.”

“You think I don't know that! I – fuck!” He all but smacked himself in the forehead, eyes blown wide. “What?” Eddie asked, tilting his head with his brow furrowed.

“The play,” Richie said, “I've got a rehearsal after school.”

“I though that was yesterday? You said they only happened once a week.”

“Yeah, well, we have to do extra rehearsals sometimes. It opens in like two weeks.”

“Fuck.”

“Yep.”

Eddie bit his lip, trying to think.

“What do we do?” he asked after a minute, worry written on his face. Richie looked at him, clicking his tongue. Eddie couldn't read his expression.

“Well,” he said, finally, his lips forming into a subtle smirk, “how do you feel about Shakespeare?”

Tag list (bolded won’t tag): @fanficisgoodforthesoul @i-is-gazebo@dandeliontozier@panicatbakerst@howellhxlic@musicalsaftermusicals@bernaynay @bust-a-move-bev@reddie-to-go@richietoaster@omgboiledcabbages@reddietofall@flowersiren@lousytrashmouth @get-fcking-reddie@finnwollfhards @bjrdies@steve-harringtwin @thecastlebyers@books-and-donuts@valenschmidt@grasshoppper @80s-trashmouth@beepbeeprichiellc@little-miss-hellraiser@okay-i-get-it-alreddie @finn-trashmouth@kaspbrakseggo @lolahood @sad-synth@turtleneckrichie@reddieforanything @vitomire @its-stranger-than-you-think@spooky-risley @ohheydatsme @hoteltozier @holystanlon@apatheticphotos@dewdropseddie @ill-float-too @peterparkerwithoutacause@sir-furry @ailecstuff @bird-uris @iamworried7 @beepbeepbitchard @trashcanonlegs@11leggomyeggo11@bisexual80scliffjumper @reddieseggrolls

#writing #vice versa fic #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie fic #reddie fanfic #it 2017 #in which .. shit happens idk

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