#start of schoolyear

[golden-bubblebee]

Hey quick question, how does one deal with start of school year overwhelmingness?

To sum it all up:

I wanted to apply for a altered school course, bc stress. I had one meeting with a lady who said she didn't know how to do it, but she would ask my teachers how they did it previous years. We're now a week and a half and 2 emails later, and I have heard nothing. She has ghosted me.

I am not technically speaking enrolled yet, because the lady is ghosting me, so I have no schedule of classes. No one seems to have a concrete, reliable one.

Our yearly overview is also unavailable because one of our teachers fell out and it has to be changed.

I go to the psychologist in the evening, to avoid having to go during school. I found out we have class until 20 today, so I have to email the teacher I won't be there. Only problem is, no one knows who the teacher is.

I wanted to go on erasmus, but the teacher who was going to mail me the powerpoint with all the info has not yet done so.

I just sat through an hour of explaining stuff and I kept zoning out, so I heard very little of it. Now we have to start an assignment I barely understand, while the teacher is in the room. This makes that I can't ask other students what we have to do, and the classroom is all quiet and I don't know the teacher very well, so I don't dare ask to explain what she just told us.

Any advice? I escaped the classroom and want to cry and go home, but sadly thats not an option, but I am not vibing.

[kirisclangen]

Zelda

She/her, 65 moons, cis molly

[daffietjuh]

Not me getting to that point in my obsession with DBD where I start to write an Old Guard AU with them

[asphodelis]

there are two impostors among us

[rederick-ignis]

Birdfolk au . You agree

(ft Handyman by @moonstonecanyon)

[antennatoheaven]

when is my uni going to update the info on their website

[lunabug2004]

The whole Power of Three to Omen of the Stars arcs will forever be the best Warriors books and I will die on this hill.

[cepheusgalaxy]

Heck yea ive bought my material for the next school year

[bagea]

i think i should re-listen to the BRC soundtrack its been like 2 years or sooo since i really got into them and i think enough time as passed where i can enjoy them again on their own

[jellykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Jinwoo x Artist! Fem! Reader: Drabbles ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 035 ✦ ┆・

[ Self-Deprecation, Cheesy Hs Love, mentions of bullying, Kyunnie making a fic for herself, Fluff Ending ]

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Admiration ] ¡! ❞

After the past years of schoolyears, you swore to never again make friends or even try anything to get attention on yourself. The plan for the remaining years is to just disappear like a ghost.

Not again, you wont open your heart, you will never let anyone in.

You wont go through another betrayal, you wont get picked on again, you wont ever let anyone hurt your heart anymore.

But ah, the way your heart stopped when you saw a tall guy with dashing ebony locks, his lazy grey eyes, a sharp angled jawline as if carved out by god's hands and a physique so perfect he might as well drop off of highschool and become an idol.

He felt your gaze from the other side of the classroom and his grey eyes would sweep towards yours— Instinctively making you avert your gaze from him.

Your heart is racing, it's suffocating, it doesn't feel pleasant.

It doesn't feel pleasant.

It does not.

So like a little a coward, you purposely started avoiding Jinwoo. You never try to meet his gaze, nor have you ever tried to be next to you.

The feeling in your heart is just so unpleasant. You don't know why, but Jinwoo's presence is making your heart race.

You thought it was just anxiety really, but secretly you studied Jinwoo's face when he wasn't looking.

Look down on the paper on your desk,

And start sketching.

You really don't know why you're doing this, perhaps it is to figure out just why he makes your heart race so much, to figure out why he just seems so... Different in a way.

Is it the way he talks? The way he carries himself? The way he seems just so... Unique?

What is it really? What makes him so different?

How can he make your heart squeeze itself like it felt like you're dying? How can he make you so fidgety even just bypassing by him?

You memorized the way his hair behaves, the way his clothes move along with him, the way his alluring grey eyes seemed to have a language of their own.

A language that makes you feel so lightheaded.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Jinwoo had always known your little gaze on him, and he grew curious about it. You're always hovering somewhere near him, but not too near. When he comes close even by just 20 steps— You scramble and run away like a kitten.

Cute.

Just like he was in your eyes, you were in his.

Not romantically, at least, not yet.

He heard small rumours about you here and there, how you were bullied in the previous years. Jinwoo couldn't get the details, and though he can in a heartbeat— He chose not to pry into your private life.

You weren't attempting to stalk him on that level, so he wont neither.

He'll let you hang around him, you're a harmless little kitten who doesn't meow after all.

It's no big deal.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

"You ready, hyung?" His teammate says as they all prepare on the trakcs for their daily training.

"Of course" Jinwoo hums.

Truthfully, he's bored, deathly bored.

When everyone thinks he is running like a damn road runner; he feels as if he is going on a walk.

Not even a jog.

A damn walk.

But he has to.

He passes by you and like a cliche, romance novel— The wind blows towards your hair and your strands toussle while your eyes are just focused on the journal in front of you.

Charming.

It was absolutely charming, you looked like you didn't belong here.

Jinwoo though in that split second that you should be in front of a canvas instead, inside of an atelier wearing an apron with a palette on your hand.

He momentarily looses his focus before hearing his teammates running behind him and he snaps back to it.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Page after Page after Page.

All of the pages are just full of him, only him.

Only Jinwoo.

It was only until you counted fifty pages of just Jinwoo that you realize that you in fact, are in love with him.

But why though?

Of all the cute guys and older oppas in the school— You're specifically attracted to Jinwoo?

There's just something... Magical about him. You've always love the prettier and mystical things, you love to live in a dream.

Perhaps its a coping mechanism you developed after all the bullying and mocking you went through in your previous years.

Reality is a sad, sad place.

It's dark and gloomy, the only pretty place sin this twisted hell are the flowers growing in the cracks.

The thought of having feelings for Jinwoo honestly brought a shiver down your spine. After all, you swore to never open your heart and let someone in.

But somehow, that tiny, tiny little box in your heart had Jinwoo containing it.

It's alright.

It'll past. It's just another little crush. Another infatuation.

This is normal, you're a teenaged girl.

But god, days turned into weeks.

And each time you would fall for him more and more.

It's torture, you don't know how to voice out your feelings. You don't know how to keep this overwhelming endearment under lock and key.

Isn't this supposed to be just a little crush?

If so, how come your control over yourself is slipping? Is this even infatuation at this point?

If its not infatuation, then what is it?

With a pen and paper in hand, you started jotting down stuff.

Mind as well make a little love letter.

Cheesy? Of course.

But it's going to be anonymous so surely it's fine.

Maybe if you do this, your feelings will be gone if you see him throw the letter away.

Crumple.

Crumple.

Crumple.

The sound of crumpled papers filled your room for the whole night.

You have to make the perfect love letter

You need to make the perfect love letter.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

You were going to sneak up into the classroom in wee early hours of school. Jinwoo is an early bird in school, soyou had to be even earlier.

As you shuffled around in your feet, you instinctively hid behind the bushes.

You can hear Jinwoo's voice.

And another girl's voice.

You swear its him, you were eavesdropping but the words werent registering.

The only thing you are realizing is that Jinwoo has... A gentler tone. His voice isnt bored. Not lazy, just... A little soft.

You had always been very focused on voices, you managed to pick up on even the slight shift on tones because it was your way to dtermine if people are fooling you or mocking you passive-agressively.

The more you listened, the more you felt hopeless.

It was then you realized Jinwoo must have some thing with another girl.

And you honestly... Felt awful, you felt terrible.

Because how dare you make a love letter to someone else's man?

How dare you like someone's man?

How dare you?

No wonder you are all alone, no wonder you are betrayed by your friends, no wonder you were bullied.

You're a fucking freak.

Jinwoo's affections will never be yours, it will never be bestowed upon your pitiful soul.

You're ugly, you're a worthless, piece of shit that is unloved.

So knock it off already, bastard.

So carefully you crawl away, making sure not to step on any leaves or make any rustle as you scurry away.

You then throw the carefully made envelop on the bin and go up the classroom.

while your lonely, sad letter in the bin— Faded into black shadows.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

"I'll pick you up after you club," Jinwoo said, ruffling his sister's head who whined in response.

"No, I will go out with my friends after for a crepe!" Jinah whines, stomping. "Oppa, knock it off!"

"Does mom know?" He inquires, amused at his sister's stubborness.

"Yeah, and so does dad!" Jinah beams. "Let me go, yeah?"

"Fine," Jinwoo rolls his eyes. "Don't come home after dark, if you do, call me"

Jinah would only pout, but nods her head as her brother shooed her away.

Jinwoo would watch his sister go to the nearby middle school, smiling softly as Jinah sees her friends and runs to her friends.

"My king," Beru's tiny little head appears beside him, "My liege's muse has thrown a letter"

"Hm?" He perks up in curiousity, holding his hand up to receive the discarded letter. "Huh. How cute."

Jinwoo hummed, turning the envelope over to admire the intricately designed envelope that was a scrapbook paper folded so expertly.

He then opens the thing carefully, to which Jinwoo felt like he was opening a letter from hundreds of years ago because it had a wax seal on it.

Instantly, a refreshing scent would waft through his nose.

It was your scent.

Not that you sprayed the paper with cologne, it's just that Jinwoo has a bloodhound nose and can pick up your scent anywhere.

Carefully, he unfolds the paper that was written in classic cursive.

My dear, sweet star I wonder which dream you have come from How so do you capture my heart with no effort? I can never know, I would never find out My heart aches for you, It is painful and unpleasant But also not so painful You're like a delicate twinkling thing on my dark night sky So close and yet so far You are of another world from Of another reality But how is it that my heart yearns for yours? Your grey eyes akin to a benevolent god's gaze, I find myself lost in them, And in those grey eyes I beg to be drowned in, The abyss I will willingly throw myself into May I love you? May I be allowed to hold these feelings for you? My dear beloved star, May I be selfish just this once and keep you in the small box in my heart? In this world full of madness and woe, Your gentle, sweet and pleasant presence gives me mercy Perhaps you are an angel Or a fleeting snowflake passing by O dear, beloved star Linger in my gaze a little while longer Live in my life for just a bit more Let me love you for quite a bit more

Underneath the poem was a sketch of Jinwoo, a delicately made one. The hunter's face was red to the very tip of his ears. He has never once received a love letter, okay maybe he did when he was in the future but not at this age and with this much effort. It even had a little artwork of him and it made Jinwoo bashful like he is an actual teenage boy.

"God..." Jinwoo groans, scratching the back of his nape as he felt... So fluffy. "You're so cute it's driving me mad"

He continues to sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

It's obvious you're going to continue avoiding him for quite a while. Between you and him, he was the man.

And what is a man to do?

He does the pursuing.

With a deep sigh and a rosy hue on his cheeks as looks up at the sky;

"Your star? Sure." He smiles as the wind blows in his direction. "If I'm your star, you'll be my goddess."

꒰ A/N: I'm so sorry for being selfish I just cant help myself xDDD!!! I havent written in so long so this is very clumsy and terrible srry guys hahahah!!! But man,,,, I lovee my woowoo so much<33 ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[miriammctroi]

New fav Headcanon: Regulus bullying Sirius into helping him woo James

By the second half of their schoolyear, James was 100% convinced the brothers could communicate telepathically.

One day in May, James followed Lily to the library to study with her. Lily liked Remus the most out of all the boys, so she often joined him when he studied.

When they reached Remus, he was sitting with the Black brothers.

Regulus looked up when they approached and touched Sirius's shoulder. He gave him a look. Just a look. Somehow, Sirius understood. He looked up at James and then back at Regulus and frowned.

“No.”

Regulus looked at him intently.

“No,” Sirius repeated. “I’ve told you all year and I won’t change my mind.”

Regulus kicked his leg.

“Stop, you’re too young. And too annoying.”

“Do you know what this was about?” James whispered to Remus.

“I don’t wanna.”

Sirius clicked his tongue. “It’s nothing.” He turned back to his brother and enunciated: “Nothing. Right, Reggie?”

Regulus gave him another look. Sirius looked right back. That was where the telepathy started. James knew they did it. Otherwise, how was it possible that they looked like they were having an entire conversation without uttering a word?

Finally, Sirius clicked his tongue again and groaned. “Can’t you get your own friends?”

“Who said anything about friends?”

James wasn’t entirely sure, but this might be the longest string of words he had ever heard Regulus say. Sirius looked appalled and another series of looks ensued between them – occasionally Lily must be the topic between them from how Sirius slightly nodded in her direction, and Regulus frowned at her before looking away. Lily, engrossed in her homework, didn’t notice.

James didn’t understand anything about the brothers sometimes, not their relationship, not their conversations – and he was always fascinated by things he didn’t understand. Regulus Black was a mystery to be studied.

***

The time came to return home for the summer holidays. The group boarded the train. Regulus, who was with them, kept hitting and tapping Sirius’s arms.

“No,” Sirius said.

Regulus hit him again.

“No.”

A kick to his ankle.

“Still no.”

Another hit. The child was relentless.

“Nope. Nope. Nope.”

Regulus made a frustrated noise and stepped on his brother’s food.

“Ow! Okay! Fine. I will. Now, Stop it.”

They sat down in their compartment and Regulus kept staring at Sirius with those huge, grey eyes of his.

The older one cleared his throat. “So, James, do you think you’ll try to ask Lily to be your girlfriend again?”

James hummed. “I have to. She’s my future wife.”

“Are you sure about that though? Maybe you should look for someone else… what’s your type?”

“My type?” James looked at him confused.

“If you were to get on with anyone else,” Sirius said through gritted teeth.

“Hm… well, dad said I have to like her and she has to share my humour.”

“That disqualifies Lily,” Peter mumbled. “She doesn’t think you’re funny at all.”

“She’ll come around! So, my wife has to like me, be funny, smart and share my interests – so, she should like Quidditch. Oh, and pretty! The prettiest girl around.”

“Disqualifies a lot of people,” Sirius said pointedly. James didn’t understand why.

Regulus scowls deeply and produces his notebook from somewhere so scribble into it for the rest of the train ride.

***

The beginning of third year started much like the last.

Sirius and Regulus were the last to enter their compartment, both severely overdressed.

The difference was that Regulus said, “Hello, James,” which was a whole word more than last year. He ignored Remus and Peter and sat between James and Sirius. The brothers had one of their telepathic conversations again.

When they were in the carriage driving from the station to the school, Regulus produced a whole ten words in a row: “I am going to try out for Quidditch this year.”

He was looking at James, waiting for his answer. His eyes were still too big for his face, like two silver coins.

“That’s cool, Regulus! Maybe we’ll have a match against each other soon, then. What positions are you trying out for?”

“Seeker.”

“Oh, wow. That’s awsome. I hope you get in. I didn’t know you were interested in Quidditch at all.”

“He wasn’t until summer,” Sirius muttered, which earned him an undeserved kick from Regulus. “Ow. Merlin, I can’t wait for you to grow out of that habit. You’ll break my ankles one day!”

Regulus just shrugged.

“It is so touching how much you care, Reggie, truly.”

Regulus gave his brother a sarcastic, wide smile. James thought that this might have been the first time he had ever seen Regulus smile.

***

All in all, the third year was very exciting but James made scarcely any progress regarding Lily.

Lily got even prettier over the summer and James didn’t miss any time in telling her so.

Regulus made the Slytherin teem as their big-eyed, tiny Seeker – blatantly underestimated by every single team in every single match which led to the Slytherins winning every game. Every single one. That kid was quick, sharp-eyed, and smart. They didn’t stand a chance.

“Your brother is amazing,” James had muttered while watching Regulus’s first match against Hufflepuff.

Sirius had rolled his eyes, sighed deeply, and said, “I’ll have to tell him you said that.”

[ryanthedemiboy]

It's mandatory here to have a semester of govt and a semester of econ. My govt teacher gave extra credit to everyone who registered to vote (I didn't turn 18 til the next year x.x)

One semester. That's 45-60 hours for all of our education in our public school career to learn about them.

I took it online and speedran the course in about two weeks. Only thing I remembered like a month later is about trickle-down economics, which it touted as a theory, at least, but didn't say it was a failure.

If they only give 45-60 hours of learning everything about the government, do you really think they'll spend their precious 45-60 hours discounting the very bullshit the country claims to run on?

One of the factors that really gets me about the asshole replies to your fiduciary post like "I looked up some US high school economic curricula and they all include this" when I have never once heard about a high school level economics course... existing at all. And I went to a school with a trimester system that had a LOT of extraneous elective courses to fill out schedules with. Closest they had was a business course that was much more about the everyday process of how businesses run than about economic legal duties of corporations. Just bc high school economic curriculum includes the topic doesn't mean any substantial number of high schools actually include that course...

Yeah.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Just Like Dad (3 of 4)

Content & Warnings: referenced military career, domestic fluff

Word Count: 804

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

Soap stumbles through an explanation when faced with a barrage of questions.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // just like dad masterlist

Johnny is a firecracker. The spark from struck flint.

He dives in headfirst, charges forward, his actions led by his head and his heart. Johnny might be high-strung at times. Rambunctious and eager. Sometimes he’s stubborn when it comes to people and things he cares about.

All of that is true. And all of it is also reflected in his six-year-old daughter.

The two of them stand in the middle of the kitchen. Johnny has his hands on his hips. His daughter mimics his movements, forcing all her attitude into it, even adding a single arched eyebrow. Johnny would laugh but he’s trying to be serious.

She looks so much like her mother it’s startling.

He’s trying to keep his demeanor calm under the barrage of questions about his job. His daughter is a curious creature. She wants to know everything, oftentimes asking so many questions at once they start to run together.

Usually, Johnny is indulgent. He loves nourishing that curiosity. But right now, that curiosity is treading on dangerous territory. Of everything Johnny is protective of, it’s his daughter. But more than that, it’s to protect her from the realities of his career.

It isn’t pretty. It isn’t clean.

And she’s asking endless questions. So many that they’re melting together, pushing him toward every bad mission and terrible death.

“That’s not one of the questions,” he replies cooly, nodding toward the piece of paper resting on the kitchen table.

It’s a questionnaire. One the school sends that has her basic interests along with information about family. She’ll use it for projects and to make connections with classmates. It’s a standard thing, something sent out early in the schoolyear as a form of introduction.

His daughter stands mute. Unmoving. She’s trying to be tough, and while it makes his heart warm with pride, it’s also incredibly frustrating.

“I’ll answer the questions on your paper. Nothing more.” Johnny is setting a boundary because it’s all he can do. He won’t lie to her, but he’s not going to swim through rough waters.

Her bottom lip pops out in a pout and Johnny sighs, crossing his arms. “Why do you want to know so bad?”

She takes a deep breath, shoulders softening. “Because I want to be like you when I grow up.”

Because I want to be like you when I grow up.

The automatic response is “no.” That isn’t what she wants or will ever want. All she knows are the friendly faces, of how Simon’s mask is way too big for her head, or Price’s hugs which she loves more than anything.

Those are not the realities. Those are soft things. Pieces that keep her satiated.

“Why do you want to be like me?” he asks slowly, chest slightly tight with dread.

“Why not?” she shrugs, as if that is a perfectly logical stance.

Where is his wife when he needs you? You would help. You would distract and move her on to something else so that Johnny doesn’t have to flounder under all these questions. She came like a fury of rapidly popping fireworks, peppering him until she finally ended her chatter with wide eyes and heaving chest.

Why not?

Because there are dark tendrils that cling to him that won’t let go. She doesn’t need those. She shouldn’t have to carry those burdens with her everywhere.

There is no reason to crush her dreams. There is no reason to smack this idealism down. Not yet. When she’s older, Johnny can be clearer, he can be more upfront about the toll this line of work has taken on him.

Sighing, he walks up to the kitchen table, picking up her sparkly purple pencil. It is rough against his fingertips as he bends at the waist to peer at the questionnaire. She stands next to him, watching intently, leaning on an elbow, peering over his arm as he starts to fill out information on the page.

Johnny takes his time. He is truthful in his answers. He is part of The Special Air Service. He runs covert missions. He vaguely lists out what a day might look like for him when he’s not deployed. His daughter watches on, saying nothing.

 But there is no snarky comment or attitude that he usually expects from her.

“Thank you, Daddy,” is all she says, neatly folding the paper in half to stuff into her schoolbag. Johnny offers her the glittery purple pencil and she takes that too.

He bends at the knees, getting on her level. “Want to help me start dinner?”

“Yes!” she beams.

“Grab a chair,” he says, nodding toward the dining table.

She drags it across the floor, pushing it up against the bottom cabinets. She turns, smile wide, hands clasped eagerly in front of her.

This is the distraction he needs.

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @pearljamislife @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair

[pansypath]

Personal growth journey

As a highschool student

‎Why I am doing this

This schoolyear is already nearing the end, and all of my 'I will study' promises dissapeared long ago. I'm not a bad student, but I'm lazy. Procrastinating studies makes me also procrastinate hobbies and things I enjoy, prompting me to use my phone instead. Not the ideal way of living as a teenager. I also suffer from anxiety and tend to overthink. I dont have many friends, but dread spending time alone, because of that my summers are spent scrolling away. However, this summer I dont want to do that.

The goal

Glow up inside & out. Enjoy life everyday, learn to push through hard moments, and look forward to the future. Become my ideal self, the type of person I would look up to. Learn to spend time alone, as well as learn to treat others more kindly and welcome them into my life with joy.

Rules I will follow

· spend atleast 1 hour everyday focusing on hobbies

· workout atleast 2 times a week

· always do all of my homework

· use my panner

· start writing in my diary again

· create and follow a morning/night routine

· follow a simple skincare routine

· eat clean and well while enjoying treats every now and then without any guilt

· no running away from plans or schedules

· practise gratitude

· keep things realistic and managable

[greasegotahold]

Lots of debate on the timeline of events in the outsiders and ages fitting into that, but according to Hinton Pony was born July 22, and he'd been 14 for about a month (line in the movie) when the main events kick off. That would put the murder during late August, which is exactly when that schoolyear would be starting. They only hide out for 5 days, which would put them at early September when they end up back home.

The rumble, Johnny's death, Dally's death, and Pony's concussion fainting happens the night after they get home.

Ponyboy comes to after 3 days, then ends up on bedrest for another week, where he displays delusional thought.

The Juvenile Court hearing presumably occurs shortly after that bedrest, as Pony is still not considered fit to testify on the murder, placing it squarely into the month of September.

It's not super clear how long the depressive episode lasts for Pony, but it's long enough that he is failing his classes and Syme is offering to bring him up to a C. Recalling my high school days, overall grades for fall semester were usually evident by like mid October, so I would give Pony 2-3 weeks, maybe a full month before Syme reaches out.

However, we also know Pony was procrastinating on his assignment, it's part of Darry's nagging iirc, so that + the theme being a final project for the semester, it was probably due mid-late November/maaaayyybe early December.

This is where ages come in bc some of the ages we have from the TV Show Bible don't align with the story's events happening in August.

However.

We know that we are reading Ponyboy's theme. It ends cyclical to the beginning, and there's also evident effort on Ponyboy's end to avoid writing profanity into his recollection. He's 14, been to Hell and back, and also procrastinated on his essay. That is to say, I'd believe it if the argument was made that for some of the surviving characters, he just mentioned how old they were at the time of writing.

Side note, too, that the musical does corroborate the main events happening in late August imo, as it explicitly ties the Curtis Parents' deaths to Darry's birthday; Darry was born January 5, and they died 8 months before the story took place; 8 months from January is obviously September, technically. However. Looking at the calendar year for 1967 (the musical is bumped up 2 years), Darry's birthday fell on the first Thursday of January. If Pony's birthday is July 22nd and it's been a month (not confirmed in the musical to have been a month, but confirmed that he would be 15 next July), the Friday Night Drive-In encounter would have been August 25 (literally the first week of school), 7 months and 3 weeks after the crash; technically not 8 months, but extremely close. If we want to push it closer and move the events a week later, then the drive in would have happened September 1.

In conclusion, my proposed book timeline, cross-referenced with calendars and given school start dates:

Tuesday, January 5, 1965—Darry's Birthday, potentially also the death of Curtis Parents

Thursday, July 22, 1965—Ponyboy's 14th birthday

Thursday, August 26, 1965—Pony gets jumped

Friday, August 27, 1965—Pony goes to the drive-in, Johnny kills Bob (technically this happens in the wee hours of Saturday, but the jumping that led to it was a consequence of the drive in so I'm lumping them)

Saturday, August 28-Wednesday, September 1, 1965— (technically the actual time of Bob's murder) + Windrixville hideout + fire + Hospital reunion

Thursday, September 2, 1965—Rumble + Johnny's death + Dally's Death + Pony's concussion

Friday, September 3-Sunday, September 5, 1965—Pony in feverish delirium

Monday, September 6-Sunday, September 12, 1965—Pony on Bedrest

Monday, September 13, 1965—Juvenile Court

Tuesday, September 14, 1965-Depressive fugue begins

Monday, October 11 or 18, 1965—Mr Syme alerts Ponyboy of his failing grade+presents semester's final project in the form of a personal theme.

Mid November, 1965—theme is written

[haikyu-mp4]

February

word count; 585 – f!reader

The end of a dark season left a lot of people tired and full of melatonin, which Oikawa Toru could undoubtedly feel that particular day in February. He wanted to get some schoolwork done in the library and sat across from a pretty woman by a table in the corner. The notes on the page slowly started getting blurry as his studying proceeded, and he eventually closed his eyes and rested his head on the tabletop. You only noticed Oikawa when he began lightly snoring. He was wearing nice clothes, and you could appreciate that along with his other striking features. A laugh bubbled in your throat before poking his arm with the back of a pen until he picked his head up at record speed. While you held your breath, he rubbed his eyes with a small mumble, "Sorry."

Embarrassment crept up his spine, but a joyful sound replaced it as laughter rang in his ears. You chuckled at Oikawa’s sleepy face, and he decided then and there that he wanted to hear it more. For the rest of that evening, he would look over at you every time someone in the library did anything and imitated them dramatically. He emphasised his facial expressions, sometimes even crossing his eyes or repeating their sentences. It made you laugh every time. This man was undoubtedly incredibly charming. "You're distracting me," you whispered, leaning slightly over the table and looking him in the eyes.

"What's the hurry?" he whispered back, genuinely wondering.

"I have a project," you informed him, followed by a heavy sigh as you leaned back in your chair to look at your notepad. "A big one." Instead of leaving you to work, this caught Oikawa’s attention. He switched seats to be beside you and looked at what he had supposedly distracted you from.

To his surprise, drawings of clothing and cutouts from magazines filled the pages. Funky coats and tailored pants seemed to be prominent on the page in a variety of colours and illustrated textures. "Fashion design? Amazing."

"I think so too, but we have to make a small collection, and I've created so many pieces that I'm struggling with making it all work," you rambled, and Oikawa showed that what you said genuinely interested him. His intrigued eyes almost made you lose your words.

"Can I help? I'm Oikawa, by the way." His look reminded you of a soft puppy as he held out his hand. What he said was interesting, though, and you didn’t expect it. He did dress very well, from what you had seen so far.

You took his hand, lingering for a second too long. "Y/n. I would like that, but don't you have anything you should work on?"

"It's not nearly as interesting," Oikawa answered quickly, closing his books for dramatic effect.

Thus, you met again one day later, in the same seats, looking at what you had so far. Immediately, it felt like you were old friends, not afraid to ask questions or make jokes.

Arms crossing over each other’s, moving cutouts and exchanging ideas in hushed voices made you forget everything around you until you finally agreed on one outfit. Oikawa even had some exciting ideas for each piece. Sitting back in your chairs with wide happy grins, you gave each other a high five. A loud clap rang through the room, and several heads turned, so you acted like you didn't know where it came from either. A dynamic duo in the making.

The Schoolyear Series ║ masterlist