#this is the kind of joke you’d see in a middle school science classroom I’m so sorry

[magic-can]

*eats a big ol’ bowl of primordial soup for dinner*

[collecting-stories]

She’s Kinda Hot - Sarah Cameron

Request: omg i really wish i could write but, can you do one with sarah and kind of like kie reader(rich but hang out with the pogues)where they are enemies and are stuck together for a project and the reader keeps annoying sarah to make her mad and the reader tells sarah she’s hot when she’s mad and then they end up getting together or something. sorry this is really long this is also my first time requesting so i’m kinda new lo

A/N: I really freaking love Sarah Cameron. That is all. Enjoy the fic. 

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Sarah was pretty sure that there was one of those personal rain clouds hanging directly over her head as she sat in math class with you. Who even assigned school projects in math class? Wasn’t that kind of thing reserved for english or science? But no, her math teacher...your math teacher...decided that a project to highlight Women in Math was a brilliant idea for Women’s History Month and, in an even greater stroke of genius, she stuck Sarah and you together as partners. It was all your fault really, that was all Sarah kept thinking as she stared across the classroom at the side of your head. That if you hadn’t walked into class late, in the middle of assignments, Sarah would’ve ended up with the next person alphabetically behind Cameron. Instead, she was stuck with you. 

“Why don’t we just split the assignment into parts and then put it together at the end?” Sarah suggested, after the bell rang and she managed to chase you down the hall of the kook academy to your locker.  

“Why not just work together?” You replied, shrugging a shoulder as if it shouldn’t be the worst thing that could ever happen to Sarah to be paired together for the project.

“I’d rather not.”

“Cause you broke up with me-”  

Sarah hushed you immediately, covering your mouth with her hand and looking back and forth down the crowded hallway. “You know what happened!”  

You pushed Sarah’s hand away and rolled your eyes, “well too bad princess, I need this grade so you’re gonna have to deal with seeing me.” You said, “everyday. After school.”  

“That’s bullshit,” Sarah snapped, following after you when you shut your locker and started down the hallway to your next class, “you do not need that fucking grade! You’re at like, the top of the class.”  

“Are you the teacher?” you asked, looking back at her. “Don’t worry Sarah, I promise I’ll stay six feet away and I won’t try to tempt you. Wouldn’t want anyone to find out you’re into girls.” You said, whispering the last part so only she could hear it.  

Sarah stopped in her tracks, watching you walk the rest of the way to your class. She wanted to scream after you, that wasn’t the reason. That wasn’t why she’d totally annexed you from her life. It wasn’t just that she knew this project was going to get her in deep shit, it was that she was one hundred percent positive that she would not be able to work with you without letting her feelings get the better of her.  

It wasn’t like the kook academy was a big place, there wasn’t exactly room to avoid you completely, but Sarah had done a pretty decent job so far. Even when the two of you crossed paths in class, and it happened more than Sarah would’ve preferred, she managed to keep herself away from you. At least until now, she was stuck with you as her partner for some ridiculous math project. She’d been banking on you wanting as little to do with her as she tried to have with you but instead you seemed totally fine. Unbothered by everything that went down between the two of you.  

She thought about asking Kiara what she would do but Sarah could already hear her best friend telling her that she wasn’t going to take sides. Kiara was friends with both of you and the most advice she would ever offer was “I don’t get what happened between you two anyway”.  

No, asking Kiara wouldn’t work. Sarah would have to resign herself to this project. She could this. It was just a three-week project. She could survive three weeks with you.  

“Hey, if I get lunch, what’d’ya want?” You asked, hanging your head off of Sarah’s bed and holding your phone out so you could tap through your doordash app.  

Sarah wanted to scream, it was still half-way through the first week and you had been to her house three times in as many days, spending your after-school hours driving her crazy. She was pretty sure that you were doing this on purpose.  

“It’s almost 5:30,” Sarah replied, not looking up from her laptop, “I think lunch is over.”

“Dinner then.” You said.  

“No. I don’t want dinner.” She snapped, “and I don’t want lunch or whatever else...I just want to finish this project.”

“We’ve got like, two weeks left Sarah,” you pointed out, rolling over onto your stomach and looking at her across the room, “just chill out.”  

You knew you were pushing Sarah’s buttons but you couldn’t help it. When things between the two of you had gone bad, when she’d told you that it was over and, worse than that, it was a mistake, you had been heartbroken. There wasn’t a better word for it. You hated how upset you’d been after Sarah broke it off with you but when things settled, you couldn’t deny that there was still something there. Little looks, fleeting in the hallway, moments you caught her staring and you knew she caught you too. It felt like boiling tension, the same way it had before, when you’d gotten together.  

“Chill out?” She huffed, “you’ve been at my house all week driving me fucking nuts and now you tell me to ‘chill out’. No, you need to help me with this fucking project!”  

You sat up on the bed, unable to contain the smile as you looked over at Sarah, “god, I totally forgot how insanely hot you are when you’re pissed off.”  

Sarah tossed her pencil across the room at you, “will you knock it off. You always pull this shit with me.”

“What shit?” You almost laughed, “you’re the one who told me that dating was an ‘accident’ and you were ‘confused about your feelings’. What am I doing, exactly, to pull shit with you? If anything, Sarah, you leading me on was pretty much exactly that.”  

“I wasn’t leading you on.” She groaned, flicking her hair over her shoulder the way she always did when she was pissed with something someone said to her. “What was I supposed to do anyway?” She said, voice dropping lower so no one would hear her. You might’ve been in her closed bedroom but if there was one thing you’d learned about Tanny Hill it was that someone was always listening. “Do you know what my family would do if they found out?”

“Found out that you were dating...basically a pogue? Or dating a girl?” You deadpanned, raising an eyebrow at her in question. You knew what the answer was. Sarah had been trying to live up to every expectation that Ward set for her from the moment she was born. She was always trying to make up for Rafe or Wheezie doing something to upset him by making sure she never did. And while other people dating whoever they wanted was totally fine with him, his favorite daughter, his pride and joy, dating a girl...maybe if it’d been Wheezie a few years down the line. But not Sarah, who was supposed to date a rich kook and go to UNC and marry the same rich kook and they could have a couple kids and buy a big house near his. He’d been planning it all out for her since before she was born and you had thrown a wrench in that plan.  

“It’s a delicate subject.”

“No,” you laughed and shook your head, “your dad’s a total homophobe. What’s he got against two super-hot girls dating each other?”

“When one of them is his daughter, I don’t think it’s at the top of his approved list.” She replied. “We should be working on this project anyway...I want a good grade and so do you.”

“Sarah-”

“No. Cause you’ll say something that you know I wanna hear and then you’ll do the stupid slow walk over to my chair and put your hands on the arm rests and I’ll be totally defenseless and then I’ll do something I totally regret...like kissing you.” Sarah said, “or letting you kiss me.”

“You’d totally regret it if we kissed?” You asked. “Positive?”

“Yes I’m positive.”

“We could test it out? Just to make sure?”

“No.”  

You shrugged, grabbing your math text off the bed and setting it on your lap again, “okay, I guess we should get back to work then.”

“What?” Sarah almost sounded shocked and really she shouldn’t have been. She should’ve known when the teacher put the two of you together for the project that this was exactly where she would end up at some point within the three weeks. Though really, she’d held out a lot longer than she ever thought she would be able to. “That’s it? You’re just going back to the project?”

“You said that’s what you wanted to do.”

She groaned and tugged at the roots of her hair for a second before looking at you, “you are the most frustrating, annoying, dense person in the entire world and I cannot believe that we-”

While she reamed you out, you had put your book aside and gotten up, going over to her and doing exactly what she said you would. You put your hands on the armrests of her desk chair and you leaned in and kissed her mid-sentence. “Is that what I was supposed to do?” You asked, pulling away just enough to see her face.  

Sarah wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you toward her and forcing you to stabilize yourself with a knee on the side of her leg, practically sitting on her lap. “Something like that.” She finally said, “though I would’ve appreciated a little warning.”

“Oh, sorry, you seemed stressed,” you replied, feigning innocence, “I just wanted to help you relax.”

“Is stressed the word?” She joked, tension melting as she brushed her nose against yours. She leaned forward so your foreheads were touching, her eyelashes just ghosting a touch on your cheeks when she closed her eyes for a split second.  

“Extremely hot? Sexy...a major turn on.” You joked, kissing her again. “God, imagine if you’d been paired with like...Topper for this? You’d be kissing him right now.”

“Stop trying to ruin the moment and kiss me.” Sarah laughed.

[raindownforme]

Hey! I’m back with another request!

Reader and Ted practicality have all the same classes and whenever they have to do projects or work in pairs Ted without fail or shame is always like “Can she work with me! Please!” Even in front of the class So he can flirt with her during the project

She/her pronouns pls :D

Also I LOVED ORBITING JUPITER I NEVER HEAR ANYONE TALK ABOUT IT

An Ode to You

Ted Nivison x reader [she/her used]

The teacher, Mrs. Statham, smacked a stack of papers on her rolling cart. She lined the edges of them up to make it straight, then held the stack in her off arm. She turned to face the class, smiling kindly as she stood tall in her professional shoes.

“This week, we’re starting a project. You and a partner will be writing poetry based on prompts and discussing your different styles of writing. Your partner will be randomly assigned-“ the class groaned, some shutting books in protest. “Hey. It’s 9am, you think I want this either?” The class grew quiet. “Exactly. Now, I’m pulling names from a hat. First is…”

y/n leaned into her open palm, closing her eyes for a moment. She could hear students shuffling around their chairs, tennis ball covered legs scraping the cheap cement. She ran a hand through her hair, leaning back to stretch her back over the cheap school chair.

“YES.” Someone stood quickly in the opposite corner of the room, the scraping and falling sound of the chair making y/n jump. She opened her eyes to see her classmate Ted standing up in the corner with his arms upright in a cheering motion. He smiled widely, looking over towards y/n. He quickly realized his outburst, dropping his arms and pushing his glasses further onto his face. “Should I pick up that chair?”

“Yes, Ted. Then go move over to your partner.” Mrs. Statham shook her head, going back to the task she’d been working on before hand. Ted gathered his things, placing the chair back to where it belonged, and headed across the classroom to where y/n sat. He pulled the chair next to her out and sat down, smiling widely.

“Hey, come here often?”

y/n rolled her eyes, trying to hide a small smile. “Good morning Ted.”

“Good morning gorgeous.” Ted looked away from y/n, sorting through his backpack for a spiral notebook and a mechanical pencil. He turned back to y/n, intending to say something, but Mrs. Statham spoke first.

“All partners have been assigned. On the board are types of poetry and some one-word prompts. Yes you and your partner must pick the same type of poem and prompt. If you have any questions, I’ll be up here grading. Go ahead.”

The students began chattering as Mrs. Statham went to her desk. y/n huffed, staring at the board. She wasn’t well-versed on types of poetry, and the list was quite long.

“How about an Ode? You know like an Ode to something?” Ted gestured with his pencil as he talked. “I’ll let you pick the category.”

“An Ode to…” y/n scanned the board, looking for the right word. “Does that say darling?”

“No?” Ted squinted as he looked at the board as well. “I think it says daring. But I like darling! An ode to darling.”

y/n smiled, turning to begin writing in her own notebook. The rest of the lesson went on with only a few scattered comments from Ted.

“What color are your eyes?”

y/n looked up at him, confused. “Why?”

“Never mind I got it.” Ted furiously scratched at his paper, y/n returning to her own.

“What season is your favorite would you say?”

“Fall.” y/n set down her pencil, smiling kindly at Ted. “I like the leaves and it’s usually a nice temperature out. You?”

“I’m a late spring early summer kind of guy.” Ted taped his pencil over and over in a slow rhythm he could only hear in his head. “I mean, unless you have a pollen allergy.”

“Why?”

“I can’t take you out if you’ll be sneezing and coughing the whole time. I don’t know, maybe the fall could be a good time.” Ted waved like he was getting rid of an idea. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Okay?” y/n thought to herself for a moment, then ignored Ted’s question to go back to her work.

“Hey what’s your-“ Ted was cut short by the ringing of the school bell. He groaned dramatically as y/n stood to gather her things. “No! Stop.”

“Why?” y/n didn’t stop, instead zipping her bag shut and throwing it over her shoulder. Ted grabbed onto the edge of her shirt, tugging slightly.

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Ted, I have a class across the school. I’ll see you tomorrow.” y/n gently pulled her shirt from Ted’s grasp. He sighed, standing up.

“Fine. Let me walk you there at least?”

It took Ted all of a minute to gather his things. He shouldered his back pack and led y/n out of the classroom. He let his hand fall to his side, gently taking y/n’s middle finger and wrapping his own finger around it. He looked down at her, smiling softly, and held on tighter when she showed no sign of discomfort.

The two walked in silence across the school, taking y/n to her science class. Ted stopped her before she walked in, keeping her finger is his grasp. “Can I see you later?”

“Ted, we have class tomorrow. I’ll see you then.” y/n patted him in the arm, politely excusing her self. She watched him walk backwards down the hall, and turned to walk into the class.

“I’ll be thinking of you!” She rolled her eyes at Ted’s outburst, avoiding the peering eyes of her classmates.

———

The next few days continued the same way; Ted endlessly flirting while y/n write her ode. The writing came easy to her. She wrote about the stars, about the constellations and the night sky. It was a basic topic she knew, but it was easy to write about and it fit the prompt. She wasn’t sure what Ted had written about, but by now everyone had finished their poems, and it was time to present.

“Alright, Ted and y/n?” Mrs. Statham sat behind her desk, yawning into her mug of tea. “Please state your type and prompt.”

“We chose an Ode, and I miss read the prompt so instead of daring we chose darling?”

She nodded, keeping her eyes on the grading sheet in front of her. “I like it. Go ahead.”

y/n cleared her throat. She looked over at Ted, waiting to see who would go first. He gestured to her, offering her to go first while smiling kindly. Oddly enough, for it being the first class of the day, Ted seemed to be the most awake in the classroom.

“For darkness around you, a pattern to make do…” y/n read robotically from the sheet of paper in front of her. The poem lasted only ten seconds, letting her quickly set it aside and awkwardly smile at her classmates. There was light clapping from the crowd, complimentary almost.

“Very good.” Mrs. Statham scribbled on the grading sheet with a blue pen. “And what was that called again?”

“An Ode to the Stars.”

“Thank you. Ted you’re next?”

Ted nodded eagerly, straightening himself. He smoothed down the front of his shirt and looked expectantly at Mrs. Statham. “Do I-“

“There are no extra credit points for memorization. However, if you’d like to, go ahead.”

“Thank you.” Ted turned back to y/n, smiling widely. “I’m encaptured in your loving stare; My darling girl, my lady, fair.”

Ted went on for a long minute, leaving y/n a flustered mess. Every stanza, Ted found a new way to look at her. A new way to gesture to her. A new way to emphasize the lines he spoke. And after that long minute, the class fell silent for a moment before clapping loudly for Ted’s display.

“Thank you both. Class, did we notice any differences in Ted and y/n’s writing?”

Someone y/n didn’t know the name of put their hand upwards, prompting Mrs. Statham to call on them. “Well, y/n wrote about an object, Ted wrote about a person.”

“Good. Is there anything else we can infer class?”

“Oh!” Someone in the back classroom sat up straighter as they shouted out. y/n couldn’t quite see who it was. “y/n wrote kind of factual? Like things that we could all see. But Ted sees the person differently than we’d normally… perceive them?”

“Yeah. Exactly. Alright good job you two, go ahead and take your seats.”

Ted followed y/n to the shared desk in the far corner of the classroom. Another set of students went up to present theirs, and y/n kept her eyes glued forward on the pair, avoiding looking at Ted.

“I really liked yours.” Ted leaned over to whisper in her ear. She jumped a bit, surprised by how close he sat. “I think it was beautiful.”

“Thanks.” y/n chewed at the inside of her lip. “What was yours called again?”

“An Ode to You.”

“Sorry?” y/n tried to swallow the heat rising to her face, trying to not be flustered in front of Ted.

“It’s called An Ode to You.”

“To me?”

“No— well.” Ted twirled a pencil around in his finger tips. “It’s called An Ode to You, not like An Ode to y/n, I mean technically it is about you-“

“Me? What, are you flirting?”

Someone snorted in the seat in front of y/n and Ted. “You just noticed?”

y/n watched Ted’s face turn bright red. “I mean, they’re right. You just noticed?”

“I assumed it was a joke.”

“Why would I be joking?” Ted looked at y/n with concern etched across his face.

“I don’t know! Are you not joking?”

“No.” Ted very gently took y/n’s hand in his. “y/n, my darling. I would never joke about you.”

“Well Ted, honey, it’s 9am and you’re flirting with a tired teenager.”

“Can I flirt with you some other time?”

“Yes.” y/n yawned, stretching her arms upwards. “Any other time.”

“Tonight then? 7 o’clock?”

“Why 7-?” y/n stopped, her face becoming increasingly heated as the realization came to her. “A date? You want to take me on a date?”

The school bell rang and Ted stood from the desk, placing a folded piece of paper in front of y/n. “Text me, I’ll come pick you up.”

She watched Ted walk away, then looked down at the paper. On it read a phone a number that she assumed belonged to ted. When she unfolded it, however, was a hand written poem with a title reading, An Ode to y/n.

[dont-you-dare-imagine]

If you’re still taking requests; being co-parent with Adrien to Plagg? Lowkey think it’s be funny since Plagg is a big baby sometimes

Adventures in Kwami-Sitting

🤍summary: plagg got into some trouble at school today.

🤍words: 1,004

🤍warnings: nothing i think? just plagg being a little trouble maker. if there’s anything i need to add, please let me know!

🤍a/n: i’m actually really proud of this piece! also, i made this one gender neutral. i think pronouns are only used once or twice but when they are used it’s they/them.

—————-—

It was around 2:40pm. Your last class, science, ended in about 20 minutes. You had this class with most of your friends, but also your boyfriend, Adrien. Adrien appeared to be an open book. He was honest, and couldn’t lie to save his life. He was kind, and nice. You thought that he was just your everyday average teen supermodel with millions of dollars who happened to go to your school and be your boyfriend. One day, after school, you came over to his house when he wasn’t expecting it, and caught him talking to what looked like a little floating cat. You walked into the room and then tapped on his shoulder, and Adrien screamed the most high pitched scream you’d ever heard from him. The little cat that you’d seen floating went crazy, and started screaming and flying all over the place at full speed. After a little bit of him trying to lie about it, failing miserably, and a long conversation, you learned that this flying cat thingy was a kwami. The black cat kwami, to be exact. Adrien was Chat Noir, and you were the only other human who knew about it.

Plagg knew that no one else was supposed to know. He knew that he is supposed to stay hidden unless its just you and Adrien. Does he listen? No. So, in the middle of science class, when you see Adrien aggressively talking to his shirt, you knew something bad was about to happen. You later found out that Plagg was trying to convince Adrien to let him go to his locker and get some cheese, even though there was like 15 minutes left of school. Adrien was arguing with his jacket for a long time, and then all of a sudden, you saw a little black blob fly up over the classroom and then go through the door and down the hall. You hoped that you only saw it because you knew what to look for, and that everyone else was too focused on class to realize. You were right, but still, Plagg knew better. You and Adrien exchanged a concerned, and also slightly annoyed glance, and both knew that Plagg was in trouble when you guys got home.

Plagg came back just as quickly as he left, and Adrien didn’t make a scene then and there. Then, when you guys got in the limo, you saw Adrien whisper something to his shirt. Probably something along the lines of “You are in so much trouble.” Something like that. The car came to a stop in front of Adrien’s house and you two quickly grabbed your things and rushed up to Adrien’s room. The second you shut the door behind you, Plagg flew out only to sit on the couch and looked ashamed. As if that would work this time. It was silent for a couple of seconds, before Adrien spoke up. “Plagg, what were you thinking?” He said in a stern tone. “I dunno.” the kwami murmured. “What do you mean you don’t know? I know. I know you flew above an entire room full of people just to get some food since you already ate your snack that Adrien had on him!” You added, frustrated. “I’m sorry.” Plagg said slightly louder than the first time he had spoken. Adrien took a deep breath, looked over at you, and then back to Plagg. “It’s fine Plagg. But you seriously can’t be doing stuff like that!” He told him, and then picked him up and gave him a hug. “This isn’t a joke, Plagg. I hope you realize that.” you spoke calmly, and then joined in the group hug.

It was a couple hours after that whole thing had happened, and the three of you were eating dinner together in the dining room. Plagg could be out and about then, since it was only the three of you. Plagg was sharing with Adrien (without Adrien knowing) and he would occasionally come over to you to “share” with you too. Once the three of you had all finished eating, you two were cleaning up. Plagg was using a napkin to wipe the food off of his face, but he missed a spot. So you came over and helped him out a little bit. “Ugh, (Y/N), I’m not a baby! I can do it myself.” he pouted. “I know, I know, I just thought you could use a little help...” you said, debating whether or not you should say what you wanted to say next. “...baby.”

Plagg was mad, obviously, and playfully chased you up to Adrien’s room. By the time you two got up there, he honestly forgot why he was even mad. You two play fought for a little bit, and then Adrien came up. “What are you two doing?” He asked, giggling. “I’m beating them up!” huffed Plagg, out of breath. You were all laughing now, and you held Plagg for a minute so he could catch his breath. You all walked over to Adrien’s collection of movies and decided on one to watch. You put the disc in the DVD player and then found the remote. Plagg jumped on the play button, and then snuggled back into your hand.

He sat in your palm and watched the movie quietly for... well, I don’t know, around... 5 minutes. A new record. He got up and started flying around everywhere. He started chewing on things, making messes, and playing with things he knew he wasn’t supposed to touch. “I’m boreddddd.” he whined, flying circles above the couch that you two were sitting on. “Good, because I have something for you to do.” You spoke. Plagg looked slightly excited. “You can go clean up that mess you just made.” You told him, giggling when he groaned and flopped down dramatically on the sofa.

Plagg might have been the biggest trouble maker you’d ever met, you still loved him so much, and you were so happy you got to know him.

—————-—

anddd that’s a wrap! thank you all so much for reading! requests are open as always! have a great day! check the adrien x reader tag if you want to view my other adrien pieces.

[princessofguineapigs]

A Straight Line to You | Harry Holland Chapter 1

What person is this? First? Second? Third? Who knows? Prepare to know some of Y/N’s thoughts and some of Harry’s. But I’m still telling the story to you about you so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also, I’m taking suggestions for how this story should progress.

University AU

The sound of voices singing let you know that you were getting close to the choir room at last. You kept getting lost in this large university building. All the buildings on campus were hard to navigate, but the music building was a true labyrinth.

You reached the doors of the classroom and tried to slide in discreetly, slowly shutting them behind you to keep from making noise. With the cacophony of voices, you don’t think anyone heard you come in. Certainly, no one saw you. You were used to being invisible.

You slipped in at the middle row of sopranos. The choir never stopped their song, even as you pulled out the packet of music you received the day prior. Being a transfer student, you weren’t sure of the protocol, but you were quick to identify which song they were on and began sight reading the music and singing softly. Thank god it was a song without many accidentals.

When the song finished, the director cleared his throat. 

“As you all know, in a few months, it will be time for our winter concert. This year’s performance has the potential to be a great one, especially with the orchestra accompanying us,” he said.

There were a few twitters of excitement in the group.

He continued on, “That’s why, I want to start the audition process for the Laudate Dominum solo next week. Any of you who wish to have a shot should start preparing. Now, let’s get back to it.”

With a nod to the pianist, the class went on to the next song.

*

Harry noticed her right away. The choir crescendoed in unison right before she entered the room, but the second she walked through the door, Harry’s voice faltered and all he heard was deafening silence. Everyone around him continued with the song, but it was as if all his senses left him except his sight. The miraculous vision before him was lovelier than any girl he’d seen before.

He craned his neck and watched this angel make her way unobtrusively to the other side of the risers. He knew then that he had to hear her sing. But there were too many voices for him to ever make out her voice like this.

When Dr. Cieber announced the solo audition, he prayed she would try out. He told himself he would introduce himself to her, so he spent the rest of rehearsal gathering the courage.

When it ended, Harry gathered up his things and strode over to her.

“Hey,” he said, lamely, kicking himself. Damn. He didn’t have a line. He didn’t even know what to say. He was so not smooth.

You felt surprised that someone was talking to you. You were notoriously shy and didn’t know why this super attractive guy had come over to you. Nervous, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

You didn’t know why your heart was suddenly thumping out of your chest.

“I’m Harry,” he said, tucking his hands into his jean pockets. He was wearing a red jumper that made his ginger curls look even redder.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, still feeling unsure.

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself.

“Are you...are you new?” he asked. He seemed nervous too. And so adorable. Wait, what? 

“Yeah, I’m a transfer,” you answered.

“I’m glad you joined choir,” Harry said, “What class have you got next?”

“Chemistry, it’s my last class of the day.”

“Hey, that’s great. My next class is in the same building. I can walk you there,” said Harry, “ y’know, if you want,” he amended shyly.

You’d gotten lost so many times today, you decided to take him up on it. Plus, you wanted to get to know at least one person at this school.

You put your bag over your shoulder and Harry picked up the books you’d been carrying that didn’t fit.

“You don’t have to do that,” you protested. You weren’t used to people doing things for you.

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you carry these heavy things yourself?”

You smiled gratefully.

“Let’s go then,” you said.

*

The next day, you were on your way to morning classes when you got a text from Harry. You had exchanged numbers after he walked you to class. When you read it you got butterflies.

Harry had asked you to meet up for lunch. Your morning was a blur of note-taking as your mind reeled ahead to when you’d see him next. Ugh, you had it bad and you’d only known him for a day.

When you reached the cafeteria, Harry was waiting for you.

“Let’s grab a table,” he said. In an old-fashioned gesture, he pulled out a chair for you.

“How have your first few classes been?” he asked.

“It’s beginning to shape into a tough workload already,” you laughed, “but I think I can handle it. I always liked school when I was a kid.”

“Nerd,” he quipped.

“And you’re not?” you cocked an eyebrow.

“Well, I’m not the smartest of my brothers,” responded.

“Your brothers? How many?”

“There’s four of us,” Harry said, “My younger brother Paddy, my twin Sam, and my older brother Tom.”

“So who is the smartest?”

Harry thought for a moment, “Sam.” he decided.

“So you’re saying you’re the stupid twin?” you joked.

“Hey, that’s not what I said!” Harry shouted a bit too loudly, but there was a smile on his face.

“So, do you think you’ll go out for the choir solo?” Harry asked, changing the subject.

You nearly spit out your tea. Where had that question come from?

“I don’t think so. I’m not confident enough to sing a solo,” you answered.

“Aw, I’m sure you sing beautifully. You’re so pretty with a speaking voice to match. I bet your singing voice is just as lovely.”

You blushed all the way to your ears. Meanwhile, Harry couldn’t believe he’d said that out loud.

As you and Harry talked, you found yourself staring into his eyes more. His irises were unusually detailed. They were brown and warm, but like a thick molasses with flecks of light caught in it.

Eventually, you did have to leave. This time, your classes weren’t in the same building. Harry offered to walk you anyway, but you declined. You didn’t want to make him late for this own class.

*

With your red jacket zipped up tight against the wind, you made your way back to your dorm, bag over your shoulder and books in hand. As you walked alone, you thought to yourself that you should probably make an effort to get to know some other people. Maybe some other girls.

You had seen a flyer for a forensic science study group. You could use some study partners and the girls in your class seemed nice. Maybe it would be fun. You had an hour to decide. In either case, you wanted to freshen up in your room first. 

Once you were ready (you had settled on going) you took a deep breath. You could do this. There was nothing to worry about. Just a study group. No big deal. You might even make a friend. Plus you needed to think about something other than Harry. You’d see him tomorrow at choir.

*

At the study session, you were greeted by a girl you recognized sat in the front row of your class.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” she beamed at you.

“Yeah, and you’re Briana?”

She nodded.

“We just got started. No one wants to study alone,” she said.

You sat down with the other girls.

“I’ve been so lost on this assignment,” you admitted.

“Let me take a look at what you’ve done so far,” Briana said. She skimmed over your work and the notes that accompanied it.

“I think we can work through this together,” said announced. 

You felt relieved. She was being so nice.

After a few hours of homework and studying, the conversation dissolved into girl talk.

“I know you’ve only been on campus for a few days, but tell me, have you spotted any guys you’re interested in,” Briana questioned.

It was a bit nosy, but you hadn’t had anyone to talk to about your love life in a long time. Plus you felt like you could trust her.

“Well, there’s a guy I met the other day. I know it’s early, but I think I’m falling for him,” you said quietly.

“Oooo, what’s he like?”

You sighed, “He’s like a dream, honestly. He’s the first person I met here and we connected so easily. I feel at peace when I’m with him, though I’ve only known him two days.”

Briana giggled, “What’s his name?”

You shook your head, “Sorry, not today. I’m not sure I want to tell people yet. I don’t want him to know.”

“Aw, I won’t tell,” she pouted.

You stood up, “I should get back to my dorm.”

“See you in class!” Briana yelled after you.

The moonlight cast shadows on the walkway as you scurried through the dark streets. You had no reason to feel unsafe, but you were paranoid anyway. The stars sparkled brightly above you. It could have been a romantic walk if you had someone to walk with. 

Just then you paused. Were there footsteps behind you? Surely not. You were almost to the end of the street where you needed to turn. Your dorm was at the beginning of the next one.

You glanced back. You didn’t see anyone behind you. You must have imagined it. Taking faster steps now, you carried on. Your own footsteps were light. The ones in your imagination were heavy. Funny, how our minds could do that.

You moved to round the corner. And time slowed down. Hands grabbed you from behind and you screamed as you were dragged backwards. You could feel your sneakers scraping helplessly over the pavement. You twisted and struggled against the arms. You felt the hardness of the back of your head smacking into something brick or stone. Your vision blurred and you felt darkness take over your senses.

End of Chapter 1

[joaquinwhorres]

Bottle Rockets (Sweet Pea x Reader)

Summary: You don't need feelings. You don't need friends. You need to stop obsessing over the fact that Sweet Pea is spending his summer with Josie instead of lighting bottle rockets with you. 

Based on Request: hello!! could you maybe write something where the reader was a northsider friends with sweet pea and he kind of ignored her while he was with Josie for the summer and now the reader is ignoring him and he's feeling miserable because he misses his friend (and maybe has actual feelings for her)? thank you 💚 

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Fem!Reader 

Word Count: 14,976

Author’s Note: This goes so far beyond the original request, but I started writing it, and the story just took life. I hope you love it as much as I loved writing it. [Insert normal begging/plea for feedback in asks and reblog form]. Also, I tried to capture some of the Sweet Pea we saw flirting with Josie. Hopefully, there was some success. 

Warnings: Language (there's always language). Underage drinking. Minor jokes about killing yourself (because of boredom). References to sex.

When it came down to it, it was all the Black Hood’s fault.

If it weren’t for him, the town wouldn’t have been so on edge and quick to shut down Southside High, ignoring years of hostility and prejudice and throwing over half of the student body into the already crowded halls of Riverdale High.

And while that itself was less than ideal, the situation would have at least been manageable if The Black Hood hadn’t murdered Midge. Because that changed everything.

That led to Fangs Fogarty getting arrested. Which prompted Ms. Klump to shoot Fangs. Which incited the riots and all of that wreckage. Which landed you in the seat next to Sweet Pea for the remainder of Physics.

The first day of the new seating arrangement came with little warning or fanfare—unless of course, you counted the fact that the trophy case was still cordoned off with caution tape and pretty much the entire student body all slipped on Southside Serpent jackets yesterday under threat of death from Veronica Lodge and Cheryl Blossom.

But still.

Walking into physics with your teacher mumbling “Your new seat is on the board—as if he knew he was about to cause the Riots - Part 2–was the first indication that shit was about to go down. Looking at the list of names, with you being placed towards the back right corner and seated next to a kid whose name you did not recognize should have been your second clue. Because you knew everyone who was supposed to be in this class. And maybe if you'd used a little bit of deductive reasoning, you would have known who you were sitting next to before the hulking mountain of flannel and leather dropped into the seat next to you.

"This is bullshit," he grumbled, slamming his books on the table and pushing them up out of his way.

It was Sweet Pea. Of all the people in this class, you were sat next to the angriest one of all. The one who hated Northsiders with every fiber of his being. So much so that he threw a trashcan through the trophy case.

And whose best friend was shot by his classmate's mom, a little voice inside your head reminded you.

You ignored her, as you normally did when she brought up irrelevant or otherwise inconvenient facts.

"What?" he growled turning to meet your gaze.

You blinked twice, unaware that you had been staring at him and shook your head giving what you hoped was a casual shrug. "I just didn't know that your name was--"

"Sweet Pea." His brow furrowed even more than it had a second ago making his face even darker if that was possible. "My name is Sweet Pea."

You rolled your eyes and looked back up to the front, your eyes landing on the projected seating chart once more. 

The rest of physics passed by in silence between the two of you, Sweet Pea keeping his head bent close to his notes and you keeping your eyes trained on Mr. Flutesnoot so you didn't take note of any of the other empty chairs in the classroom.

The rest of the week followed the same pattern as the first day. You arrived first and took your seat. Sweet Pea arrived a little later and dropped angrily into his. The two of you would silently complete your work, pack up as quickly and quietly as possible when the bell rang and then dash off to your last class of the day.

It wasn’t until the second week of the new seating arrangement that things took a turn. When you walked into the class, all eyes were on you. You walked down the center aisle to your seat, still feeling the eyes of your classmates on your back. It wasn't until you took your seat and looked up at the board that you understood why they were staring at you.

On the board, in Mr. Flutesnoot's scrawling handwriting were two words: bottle rockets.

Your stomach clenched as you took hold of your pencil, opening up to a blank piece of notebook paper and staring fixated ahead, your face stony. Because of this, you noticed Sweet Pea enter the classroom and the way that everyone's eyes seemed to flick from you to him. "This is gonna be good," Alex Cabot whispered behind you. Hushed snickers dotted the classroom, and this didn't go unnoticed by Sweet Pea. He scowled at row after row of students as he passed them on his way to you. The look did nothing of course, not even dissuading the oggling as he dropped into the seat next to yours.

You looked over at him and then put your eyes back onto your paper as the bell rang. Mr. Flutesnoot came back into the classroom. "Good morning ladies and gentlemen," he grinned and you rolled your eyes. He always seemed like an announcer whenever he was starting class. "I hope you're ready for our final lab of the year."

"Unit-Bomber is," Cabot snickered. "She's been waiting for this day all year."

"Probably ready to finish off the school," his partner, Fletcher Foley, added and the two boys chuckled.

“And I bet her partner is just dying to help her.”

“They still haven’t repaired the banner he cut.”

You picked up your pen, grinding the tip down into your desk. Keep your mouth shut, you chanted in your head. They're not worth it. Keep your mouth shut. They're not worth it. You continued to chant it throughout Mr. Flutesnoot's instructions and mini-lesson on factors to consider during the design stage.

"Alright, talk to your partners and discuss. What materials are you going to use? Play with the simulators to design the nose cone and wings and any other modifications you may want to make. Yes, Mr. Cabot?"

"We can't make this into an actual rocket right. Like, substitute real gas for water?"

Mr. Flutesnoot narrowed his eyes in confusion as you pressed your pen tip even harder into the desk. "No, you can't use rocket fuel."

"Well there goes the Unit-Bomber's big plans," Cabot snickered. You slammed your pen down and turned to Sweet Pea.

"So, any ideas?" you asked, sort of breathless. He jerked a little in his seat eyeing you, as if suddenly aware that you were about to go off at any second.

He shrugged his shoulders with a small shake of his head, and you gave a tight-lipped smile, pulling a laptop in between the two of you. "Why don't you play with the simulation, and I'll research what materials will work the best?"

"She has to tell him what to do because he's too stupid to actually understand directions," the voice came from behind you.

You watched as Sweet Pea's face went suddenly white and then dark, a snarl growing on his face and his fist clenching. If he had been a bit faster, he might have threatened to rip their throats out if they didn't cut the shit or some other kind of barbaric and totally justifiable punishment.

But he wasn't as fast as you

"Hey, so, if you're going to talk shit about us, can you at least try to keep it down a little?" you asked, your voice a vitriolic sort of cheery. "Or, I don't know, make it vaguer who you're talking about? We just get kind of distracted by how bad you are at it."

The rage was wiped away from Sweet Pea's face, replaced with a suspicious confusion.

The two boys behind you looked at each other as if trying to decide who would respond to your constructive criticism of their assholery.

"Ok, you're confused. Umm, quick tips--" you started, hearing the classroom around you gradually grow quieter. "When you're talking about someone behind their back it usually means that they can't hear you. Not that you're literally behind their back."

Foley's face was now completely blank. Cabot looked kind of annoyed.

"And if you were trying to bully us, you usually don't target a gang member who can beat the shit out of you. So cliff notes version: shut the fuck up."

"Ms. L/N!" your teacher reprimanded.

"Sorry, Mr. Flutesnoot,” you apologized, turning back in your chair to focus on the work.

"Freak," one of the boys muttered.

"Just one more quick thing," you turned back around. "Your material's old. The whole Unit-Bomber thing is last year. This year I'm the weird bitch who does shit like this--sorry, Mr. Flutesnoot--and also, hating the Serpents and Southsiders died with the Black Hood. So if you can stop distracting my lab partner with your mediocre middle school bitching, that would be great."

Silence followed as the class waited to see if and how they would respond.

"Are you finished Ms. L/N?" Mr. Flutesnoot asked, crossing his arms.

"I think so. You got anything?" you asked, turning to Sweet Pea. He shook his head. "You guys?" Cabot flicked a finger. You swiveled back to face your rather put-out looking science teacher. "I'm sorry, I don't think it'll happen again."

Mr. Flutesnoot nodded. "Right, well. The next person who starts it back up is going to find themselves in Mr. Weatherbee's office."

"Ok," you agreed before turning back to Sweet Pea who was looking at you as if you'd suddenly turned into a werewolf or had just started speaking Dothraki or something. "So you're good with the simulator?"

"Yeah," he agreed, and the two of you began work.

To some extent, you expected there to be some kind of blowback from you snapping in class yesterday. Earlier in the year, a freshman had snapped on a group of juniors, and the phone footage had gone viral, spawning the hashtag #thehallsarenotyourplayground (which coincidentally had made quite the resurgence when the Serpents rolled into town). 

So, you were fairly surprised that aside from a few whispers and the casual wide-eyed look from people who were in your science class, no one brought it up. It didn’t become a thing. The was no hashtag.

If you had to guess it was mostly because everyone else was sick of Cabot’s shit too and there were bigger and better things to whisper about.

Betty Cooper’s dad was the fucking Black Hood. 

Veronica’s jailbird father was first gentleman of Riverdale. 

Some weird shit had been going on in Greendale.

And Betty Cooper’s dad was the fucking Black Hood.

So, by the time you walked into science class at the end of the day, it was hardly surprising that Foley and Cabot glared darkly at you and the rest of the class watched vigilantly as you walked down the aisle to take your seat, only to find other things to direct their attention at when no words passed between you and Cabot.

You quietly went about drawing your notebook from your backpack, flipping the pages to find the notes you jotted down yesterday. Both you and Sweet Pea had made good headway on your specific tasks. In fact, so far Sweet Pea hadn't really needed any hints or oversight from you. You had given him control of the simulations primarily because you already knew exactly what shapes are the best, but he had come to similar conclusions on his own. One day and you were beginning to think that this partnership may actually work out; you wouldn't have to take over the project and do it all by yourself as per usual.

A stack of books dropped into the table signaling Sweet Pea's arrival.

"Hey," he greeted and you glanced up at him, your brows furrowed in slight confusion.

"Uh hey," you said still staring at him suspiciously. Greetings were not part of the normal. In all honesty, talking wasn't part of the normal.

He nodded before sitting down, looking as content as if the two of you had carried out a whole conversation as opposed to three words. Oooookay then, you thought to yourself, turning back to your notebook as Mr. Flutesnoot began class with the reminder that today was your last day of building the rocket and on Monday you would do launches. He finished his spiel, walking over to his desk to his usual hiding spot behind his computer.

You slid out of your stool without a word to Sweet Pea and walked to the front table, perusing the different materials and selecting the ones closest to what your research turned up.

"You know students used to set off real model rockets," Cabot said casually, sidling up beside you and grabbing the same material you had just grabbed for your fins. "Now they can't even trust us with matches because of you."

You rolled your eyes, picking up some masking tape. "I didn't use matches," you mumbled.

He snorted, bumping into you as he picked up some masking tape as well. "I'm still surprised they let you back. Then again, it seems like now Riverdale will let anyone walk through its doors. Bombmaker. Drug dealers. Gang members. I bet they'd even let that murderer back if Ms. Klump hadn't shot him."

You dropped the masking tape, picking up some duct tape instead as you glared at him. He smiled smugly. "Just stating facts," he said lightly, exchanging his masking tape for duct tape.

"Someday someone's going to kick your ass, and I can't wait to stand there and watch."

"Is that a threat?" Cabot asked, watching as you turned on your heel and headed back for your chair.

"Just stating facts," you threw over your shoulder. Besides, you thought to yourself. If I was going to threaten you, I would point out just how easy it is to torch someone's car.

You arrived back at your seat, slamming the materials down on the table. Sweet Pea looked up at you from his work with a questioning glance. "You good?" he asked.

"Fine. Ready to work," you answered, shaking off the comment and the strange feeling that came from Sweet Pea actually noticing your frustration this time. He nodded but didn't look entirely convinced until his eyes fell on Cabot making his way back to the table behind you. His face darkened, but you didn't have time for his anger issues. "Can I see what you've got?" you asked, pointing to the notebook. He nodded, pushing it over to you so that you could read it more easily.

As expected, all of his conclusions were accurate. "Good call with the fins," you said, nodding. "Not a lot of people think about making them different sizes in the simulator."

Sweet Pea furrowed his brow at you for a second before you scrawled onto the edge of his paper. Fucking with them. You drew an arrow pointing back at Cabot and Foley who had gone suspiciously quiet behind you, the same way they had all year whenever it came to listening in on your work with whoever your partner was. Sure, it was perfectly fine to treat you like shit, but you always listened to the girl who knew enough to get you a free day in science class. It wasn't incompetence that got you the name Unit-Bomber and everyone knew it.

Sweet Pea nodded, his lips quirking up into a distant relative of a smile. "Thanks."

"So, you cut these two the same size, and I'll cut the other ones into the short and the long one," you grinned back. Sweet Pea took the material from you and began tracing the shape he'd researched as you waited for the scissors and the pieces he was cutting to make them the same size.

You heard the whispers of Cabot and Foley behind you followed by the quick scratching out of something in a notebook.

"Perfect triangles?" Sweet Pea asked, holding up the fins for only you to see.

"Perfect triangles," you smiled. Taking one and using it to trace the pattern of the remaining two fins. There was more whispered argument behind you, and a devilish grin crossed your face. Sweet Pea shared the look.

Physics had just gotten fun again.

It felt like ever since they caught the real Black Hood, the student body of Riverdale High found any reason to party. 

AP testing was over? Party to celebrate your brains no longer being molten lava. 

Dr. Johnson went home sick today? Party to celebrate a sub tomorrow. 

Kelly Gordon got a new haircut? Party to show it off. 

Student Body President elections right around the corner? Party to influence the vote.

That was how you ended up in Cheryl Blossom's house at ten o'clock on a Saturday night with a beer in hand. You’d had a flyer shoved into your hand by Veronica Lodge, and with nothing better to do, you’d decided that after the Black Hood maybe you were someone who went to parties.

But even if you had suddenly become someone who went to parties, you still weren't the girl in the middle of the dance floor laughing and screaming and surrounded by a large group of friends.

You stood off to the edges of the dance floor, close to the speaker, attempting to give yourself permanent hearing loss and maybe destroy your liver while you were at it. It was easy to lose yourself in the base--to let it take control of your heartbeat and run through your blood along with the liquor. It only took half an hour for you to stop thinking about the sound waves and frequencies and to just have fun like a normal teenage girl out at a party.

You let yourself go until you finished your second beer, and you departed from the safety of your spot for a refill.

It would have been nice if you really had blown out your hearing.

Because maybe then, when you made your way out of the living room, you wouldn't have heard Ginger Lopez' not-so-quiet comment.

"She invited the Unit-Bomber?"

You paused, your grip around your beer can tightening.

"You know what they say," Tina Patel smirked, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "Every vote counts."

"I don't know, I think they could do without one," Ginger snickered and Tina laughed.

"Someone should keep an eye on her. The last thing Cheryl needs is having another house burn down."

You took a deep breath and started moving again, making sure to bump shoulders with a laughing Tina as you passed by. Based on the screams that followed in your wake, her drink had sloshed into at least one of them. You grinned, moving deeper into the house where hopefully the proportion of bitches was smaller.

Thankfully, it seemed like it was. While still heavily populated, everyone in the kitchen was for the most part too far gone or pre-occupied to worry about the black sheep in their midst. You headed over to the table where drinks were piled. On your way, Ben Button was pushed sideways, bumping into you so that you stumbled into the tall figure standing next to the drinks table.

"Shit, sorry," you mumbled, looking up at the figure who turned around and peered down at you. Your eyes widened slightly with shock, seeing Sweet Pea frowning at you. Taking in your face, his shoulders relaxed a little and his brow smoothed.

"Could have just said hey." It was hard to tell if he was teasing you or angry based on the look on his face. He wasn't smiling, and his eyebrows were raised.

"Hey," you greeted, tentatively, reaching behind him to grab another beer.

"Hey," he answered, turning to face you fully. The people next to him moved away a little and your gaze fell back on him. He looked down at you expectantly as if you really had run into him on purpose and now had to carry a conversation.

"So you’re supporting Andrews now?" you asked with an eyebrow raised.

Sweet Pea shrugged. "Toni invited me."

"Forced you to come, you mean." You immediately regretted the snarky and weird way the words sounded falling from your lips. He didn't seem phased at all but shook his head slightly with a shrug.

"What about you? Don't strike me as an Andrews fan."

"I came to be swayed. You know, see what my vote was worth," you nodded, taking a swig of your drink.

"And it's worth....this party?"

You shrugged. "Better than a cupcake."

He snorted and shook his head at you. A silence settled between you two, not altogether uncomfortable but not exactly companionable either.

"Well, don't let me keep you from your friends," you said, taking a step backward.

He rolled his eyes. "Topaz left with Blossom a while ago. I think they're upstairs." And Fangs was still in recovery. "But I guess you should get back to your friends."

You shrugged. "I came alone." There was a pause as his brow furrowed lightly and he gave a slight nod in response to the statement. "I don't need moral support to get drunk and dance," you added, punctuating the statement with a sip of your beer.

He snorted again, and you grinned, basking in the warm feeling of triumph. You had made Sweet Pea, The Angry Gangster, laugh. Twice.

This time, he fully nodded, his eyes running over your body. "So, since neither of us has any friends to get back to, maybe we should stick together? It might make this party a little less...shitty."

"This party is far from shitty," you scoffed. "Free booze. Decent music. And just enough jingle jangle to make most of the people here not assholes. This is as good as it gets on the Northside. Besides," you took a few steps away from him, heading back towards the music. "I'm happy being by myself. See you later."

He raised his drink as a goodbye, and you turned around, taking a sip of yours to try to keep the smile from tugging at your lips.

It took about twenty minutes for you to realize that Sweet Pea may have been onto something when he said the party was shitty.

It was a gradual shift. The music got louder, and the bodies got a little bit closer, pushing in at all sides until you couldn't help but brush up against somebody every time you danced. Everyone's eyes were glazed. Girls' voices got higher pitched, and boys spoke less. A bad feeling had settled in the pit of your stomach, but it wasn't until you felt the cool trickle of beer dripping down your arm from where someone had just sloshed their drink on you as they tried to pass that you realized this party was no longer the best the Northside had to offer. You turned your arm in front of you, looking down to assess the damage only to realize you didn't have a napkin. You heaved a suffering sigh, staring up at the sky before bringing your eyes back down to the party and catching Sweet Pea's gaze. You placed two fingers to your head, cocked the makeshift gun and pulled the trigger, your head jerking to the side with the force of the imaginary bullet.

A smile crossed Sweet Pea's lips as he tipped some of his beer onto the ground. You smiled as well before turning and heading closer to the speaker system and proverbial higher ground.

It was only fifteen minutes until the next hint that this party had taken a downward turn. While shattering your eardrums seemed inevitable, the earsplitting music seemed to keep most of the drunks away and provide you with a little room to breathe. You were even managing to enjoy yourself once again. And then your eyes landed on Sweet Pea.

Or rather, your eyes landed on the blonde girl who was writhing all over the front of his body. Every time he backed away she would follow, too far gone to process the rejection, judging by the way she couldn't keep her head up and her hips couldn't quite match the tempo of the music. He looked up with a face of disgust that melted away for the most part when he caught your gaze. Instead, he lifted a fist and pounded it into his chest several times before his head lolled to the side. You laughed at the brutal stabbing scene before dragging your attention away to continue dancing.

You managed to stick it out for almost another full twenty minutes before suddenly the song that was blasting out of the speaker next to you turned to "Shots."

You swore loudly. Not loudly enough to be heard over the dulcet does of LMFAO, but loudly enough for a drunk girl to look at you as if you were crazy. Your eyes quickly scanned the crowd and it seemed like his must have been too because you found Sweet Pea's gaze in record time. You threw back an imaginary shot before clutching your throat and slowly sinking down into the crowd. When you rose back up he was smiling. He jerked his head towards the kitchen, and despite the fact that you were moderately enjoying your time alone, you found your feet leading you off of the dance floor.

By the time you reached the kitchen, he already had two shots in his hand--courtesy of a wasted Reggie Mantle--and passed one to you.

"So maybe you knew what you were talking about when you said this party was going to be shitty if we didn’t stick together," you said, clinking your glass to his and throwing it back. The cheap Vodka burned on the way down, but it numbed you a little to the party.

“Of course I was.” He hadn’t even winced at his shot. He plucked the cup out of your hand, putting it back on the counter and grabbing two beers instead, passing one to you.

You cracked the can open, taking a sip—a watery chaser to the burning liquor. “Well,” you gasped slightly as you finished your drink. “At least you got the true Northside experience before it imploded.”

“Imploding isn’t the Northside experience?” Sweet Pea quirked an eyebrow.

“Aw," you put a hand over your heart. "You get us."

He exhaled a laugh, taking a drink, and a small silence settled between the two of you. “So, you still happy by yourself?" Sweet Pea asked.

You raised your eyebrows. "You know when you say it like that, it almost sounds like an innuendo.”

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he just inclined his head towards you.

You offered half a smile, shaking your head. "I'm always happy on my own. Not sure if you picked up on this in physics, but I’m not exactly a people person.”

“I don’t know, I thought it was generous of you to try to help Cabot and Foley out with their rocket,” he offered straight-faced.

You smirked and gave a casual shrug as you took a sip of what was essentially alcoholic tap water. “Anyway, I think you’re better off without me hanging around. You seem like you’ve been having a pretty good time on your own.”

He stared at you blankly.

“I saw you having a blast with Heather.” His face dropped and you burst into laughter. “Not into Northside girls?”

“Not girls like that,” Sweet Pea answered flatly.

“Shame, she seemed to really like you,” you pushed. “You’ll break her heart.”

“She’s not even going to remember any of it tomorrow.”

“I mean, that is kind of the point of drinking at parties,” you said, toasting him before downing the rest of your beer. His eyes narrowed slightly as he seemed to give you an assessing kind of look. You slammed your can down onto the counter.

“Well, I’m going to take off. Leave before the cops come,” you announced.

"Need a ride?" He asked, and you tipped your head sharply to give him a questioning look. He was staring down at you with an almost challenging look. You squinted your own eyes attempting to size up the offer.

Accept a ride home from a Southside Serpent? Bad idea. 

Accept a ride home from your lab partner? Not as bad. 

Accept a ride home from Sweet Pea?

You shook your head. "I’m sure you can guess what I’m about to say.”

“You’re good on your own?” He guessed disbelieving.

You gave him finger guns and to be honest you weren’t even sure you could blame it on the drinks. “I can walk from here,” you said, straightening back up.

"By yourself at this time at night?"

"Survived the Black Hood, so I’m feeling lucky. Besides if someone kills me it saves me the trouble of the massive hangover I'm destined to have tomorrow."

Sweet Pea shook his head slightly, his lips quirking into his almost smile. "See you on Monday, then."

"Maybe," you threw over your shoulder. This time you didn't even bother to hide the smile.

Your walk home was uneventful. As a result, the weekend was swallowed up by a massive hangover on Saturday and rushing to do all of your homework on Sunday. By the time school came around Monday morning you hardly felt ready or rested and judging by the other zombies roaming the halls of Riverdale High, the rest of the student population was in a similar situation.

The day passed in a slow and dull sort of misery.

Until physics.

“Grab your rocket and then line up by the door, we’re going out to the field.” Mr. Flutesnoot greeted. The majority of your chemistry class was already along the wall, and you headed to the back to grab your rocket and join the rest of the class.

Scanning down the line you looked over the different versions of rockets. Some basic but functional and colorful. Others sleek and potentially good enough to give yours a run for its money. And a few were true disasters.

Among this category was Cabot and Foley’s. Because not only had they listened to every last sabotaged direction that you and Sweet Pea has given them, but they hadn’t even followed them well.

The thing had triangle fins of three different sizes and slightly varying shapes. The weight was focused in the bottom of the rocket and the nose cone was sharply pointed. Sweet Pea had tried to get them to cut holes in the rocket, but realizing that'd be taking it a bit too far and even Cabot and Foley weren't that stupid, you'd corrected him. That said, when he had them tape the whole thing with several layers of duct tape, you'd shrugged and let it go.

“Grab your rocket and then line up by the door, we’re going out to the field.” Mr. Flutesnoot said from the entrance of the classroom. You looked up from the line, your eyes falling on Sweet Pea who was scanning the line for you.

You held up, Ophiocus, and he caught sight of your green bottle, coming down to stand next to you.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Hey,” you answered. He looked no worse for wear than usual. His hair curled above his eye in the way it usually did, and the dark circles that had been under his eyes ever since the riot seemed fainter if anything.

“How was your weekend?”

“Well, I’m here and breathing so you can guess how Saturday went,” you quipped. “You?”

“‘S fine.”

The bell rang and you waited for the sound to die down before you continued the conversation, but before you could get a word in, Mr. Flutesnoot started. “Alright, out to the field. Remember I expect you to walk through the halls quietly and respectfully.” You rolled your eyes but quietly trudged out behind the rest of your class.

“Did you see their rocket?” you murmured to Sweet Pea. He shook his head, stepping out from the line and craning his neck a little to see it. It wasn’t until the line turned to go out the side door that his eyes lit up and he fell back into step with you.

“You’re vicious.”

“I can’t wait to see it fly.” You flashed a crocodile smile.

Luckily you didn’t have to wait long. Their rocket was selected among the first ones to go, and when they brought it up for launch even Mr. Flutesnoot winced at the sight of it. When he backed up to set off the rocket you reached out and grabbed Sweet Pea’s bicep, squeezing it tightly in excitement. He looked down at you, and if your eyes hadn’t been fixated on the rocket that was about to go up, you might have noticed the warm amusement on his face.

“3-2-1,” you chanted along with the rest of the class.

The rocket made it up just a couple of feet before making a hard tilt and crashing down into the ground.

It was the worst one so far. And while the rest of the class giggled lightly at it, you roared with laughter at the looks of shock and confusion on their face, doubling over and clutching your sides.

“Ms. Y/L/N!” Mr. Flutesnoot admonished.

“I’m sorry,” you straightened, wiping the tears from your eyes and shutting your mouth to keep the next burst of laughter in at the looks of sudden realization and anger that flashed across their faces. “I know they worked hard on it,” you added trying to suppress a smile. Next to you, Sweet Pea snorted.

“Alright, well, let’s see yours then,” Mr. Flutesnoot said, as if your rocket would be a similar failure and teach you how bad it was to make fun of other kids in class.

You strode forward, handing him the bottle to set up before stepping back slightly to watch it. Sweet Pea moved up next to you.

The pair of you counted down along with the rest of the class, watching as the water poured out and your bottle shot up into the sky soaring far out over the field.

When it finally landed, a slightly shocked Mr. Flutesnoot directed Sweet Pea to measure the distance the rocket flew. And as he stood there watching Sweet Pea run out, you took the opportunity to turn to Cabot and Fletcher, both of your arms straight out in front of you, middle fingers high, one for each asshole.

But that moment was nothing to when, after Dilton came back with the distance his rocket flew, it was determined that your rocket was the top performer.

“Yes!” Sweet Pea shouted, punching the sky. The rest of the class offered some halfhearted congratulations, and you beamed at him.

“Congratulations the extra credit is yours,” Mr. Flutesnoot announced. “Everyone let’s head back in.”

“That was incredible. Fangs would’ve loved that shit,” Sweet Pea said. A glimmer of something shone in his eyes before the look passed.

“You know,” you said, casually. “This experiment is entirely reproducible at home.”

“Maybe the rocket, but how’d you launch it?”

“Bike pump,” you answered, simply.

He nodded, the grin reappearing on his face. Which slid off as Cabot pushed past, shouldering you. “Fucking Unit-Bomber.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Sweet Pea barked. Your eyes flicked up to Mr. Flutesnoot who was busy opening the doors to the school ahead.

“Why don’t you make me?” Cabot spun around stepping up into Sweet Pea’s face. Sweet Pea pushed him backwards, and Cabot pushed Sweet Pea. A few of the other Serpents in class noticed the scuffle and ran back to step in and crowd Cabot.

“Alright guys back in the building!” Mr. Flutesnoot called. Your attention snapped to him, seeing him craning his neck to see what was happening and who should be written up. Cabot held up his hands in the face of all the Serpents and under the scrutiny of your physics teacher.

Little bitch.

“Better a Unit-Bomber than a dumbass,” you remarked, walking past Cabot who was still held there by the rest of the Serpents until you and Sweet Pea were back in the building.

“You good?” Sweet Pea asked with a quick glance down at you as you rubbed your shoulder.

“Fine,” you shrugged, letting your hand drop.

His eyes remained on you, and you met his gaze, a strange and completely unwelcome flipping sensation in your stomach. You shook your head, stepping into the classroom, pushing the feeling down. You’d deal with this later.

The bell rang, signaling the end of physics and the fact that only one more class stood between you and the weekend.

“Hey, y/n,” Sweet Pea called out, stopping you on your way out of the classroom. You slowed down, waiting for him to catch up so you could walk out together. “I was thinking, do you come over to the quarry after school?”

You narrowed your eyes, looking at him suspiciously, ignoring the way your heart seemed to speed up a little at the offer. “Why?” You asked, drawing out the word.

“I got stuff to make a bottle rocket with Fangs. Thought we could use your expertise.“

You grew stiff and your face went blank. There it was. There was always something. “My expertise as the Unit-Bomber?”

Sweet Pea’s head snapped to you. “You think I’d say that?”

You gave a jerky shrug, looking straight ahead and continuing to your math class.

“Or do you just not want to be seen on the Southside?”

“Think what you want,” you said quietly, your throat feeling tight with disappointment.

Next to you, Sweet Pea bristled. “I asked because I thought you’d enjoy it but forget it,” he stormed off.

Guilt flooded through you. This always happened. Fuck. Things were easier when you just stayed by yourself. “Wait,” you called out, hurrying after him. “I’m sorry. I’m not... I don’t...” you ran a hand through your hair. “Can you give me a ride?”

Sweet Pea’s face remained stony as he looked back at you. You stood in silence until the warning bell rang. His shoulders didn’t relax. He didn’t ease up. Instead he said, “I’ll meet you out front after school.”

You were surprised when he actually pulled up and parked his bike out front at the end of the day.

You walked up to the bike. “Hey,” you said, softly.

“Hey.” The word came out short, and he didn’t offer anything else except for an intense stare.

Despite the fact that your skin tingled with discomfort, you refused to break his gaze. “Can we forget about how I was a touchy asshole who is apparently new to the concept of friendship?”

Sweet Pea snorted and visibly relaxed, shaking his head. “Get on the bike.”

You hauled yourself onto the back, wrapping your arms around his middle and trying to lose yourself to the feeling of the wind in your hair and sun on your face as he tore out of the parking lot and towards the quarry.

The drive passed mostly in silence. Slightly more comfortable than your other silences if only because you were fairly sure you’d have to lean up and shout in his ear for him to actually hear you. Instead, you occupied yourself by watching the landscape pass and ignoring the way your arms wound their way tighter around him every time he turned. Kind of like how, when you arrived, you fought to keep down the shock and outrage at his living situation.

He lived in a tent.

In fact, it seemed like most of the Southside now lived in tents. And it seemed like complete bullshit that the mayor or someone hadn’t spoken up to address the fact that half the town had lost their housing and were now living with minimal running water and plumbing.

If it weren’t for years of practice pushing things down, Sweet Pea might have seen it all on your face. But instead he looked at you and found only a blank sort of contentment. “Fangs!” Sweet Pea called, and out of a nearby tent popped Fangs Fogarty’s head.

He didn’t look like he’d been shot just a couple of weeks ago. His smile was bright and genuine even as he hauled himself up on crutches and hobbled out to greet you.

“Hey, what’s up?” He greeted, coming over to you. You moved a little faster to meet him halfway.

“Fangs, Y/N. Y/N, Fangs,” Sweet Pea introduced before disappearing into a tent. The introduction was hardly necessary. Everyone in Riverdale knew exactly who Fangs Fogarty was.

“Heard a lot about you,” Fangs said, reaching a hand forward and you shook it even as you cast a glance at Sweet Pea’s tent. Fangs chuckled at the look on your face. "You're one of the few Northsiders Sweet Pea thinks 'Isn't that bad.'" You snorted.

“Wow. High praise,” you said flatly, and Fangs full out laughed.

“For him? It’s about the same as declaring—“

“Shut up,” Sweet Pea cut him off, appearing with a couple of grocery store bags. “Or I’ll throw your crutches in the lake.”

“Whatever man I’m about to be off them anyway,” Fangs dismissed goodnaturedly but thankfully didn’t finish his statement.

“Sooo rockets?” you asked, changing the topic just in case Fangs decided he did want to make things more uncomfortable than they already were.

Fangs grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Yes.”

You wished you could have blamed how bad Fangs was at building rockets on the fact that he was injured. But given that most of his tasks were literally groundwork, it really came down to the fact that he was too excited and a shit listener. Without your constant intervention and shouting at him, the rockets would have turned out similarly to the SS Clusterfuck you saw in physics. As a result, it took twice as long to build the damn things than it should have, but eventually you had your rockets, Cobra, Viper, and Galileo ready to go on the launcher you talked Sweet Pea through building.

And while Fangs was a shitty engineer, at least he was funny and a good conversationalist and had just enough of a saving grace personality for you to not want to drown him in the quarry like you would have for anyone else.

“Mine first,” Fangs declared, pushing Cobra into your hands. You rolled your eyes and set it up, looking back at the boys.

“Ready?” You called back, and they flashed a thumbs up.

“Go!” You shouted, moving back towards them as Fangs pushed down on the tire pump, sending the rocket up. It was fairly impressive the thing went up at all.

He let out a whoop as if he had actually been a part of a real-life rocket launch. Behind the three of you there was some clapping. You turned to see Toni Topaz standing with Cheryl Blossom.

“Impressive Fangs,” Toni commented with a smile.

“Wanna set one off, Topaz?” Sweet Pea asked, holding Viper out to her.

“Nah, we’re heading over to Cheryl’s, I just had to grab a few things,” Toni shook her head, disappearing into her tent. It was hard to miss the way Sweet Pea’s face fell.

“Teaching them all your tricks Unit-Bomber?” Cheryl asked, quirking an eyebrow with a smug little smile. You glowered at her.

“Why? Looking for new ways to set your house on fire?” You shot back.

“Shit,” Fangs remarked.

Cheryl stepped forward and opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by Toni who re-emerged from her tent. “Ready to go, babe?” she asked, looking expectantly at Cheryl. The redhead plastered on a smile.

“No need to be here when y/n inevitably blows up half the tents.”

Well, shit. Toni was making her soft.

You watched as they climbed onto their motorcycles and pulled away.

“I’ll say it: that was incredible,” Fangs said, looking over to you. “You out bitched the bitch.”

You shrugged, feeling significantly worse than five minutes ago.

“Why'd she call you the Unit-Bomber?” Fangs asked, genuinely. Sweet Pea reached over and hit him upside the head. “The fuck?”

“It’s what everyone calls me,” you shrugged, sitting down on the ground next to Fangs. “It’s Riverdale. You do one thing and suddenly that’s all you are. You guys know that.”

A shadowlike feeling settled over the group as the three of you looked out over the water.

“What’d you do?” Fangs asked, breaking the silence. Sweet Pea hissed words you didn’t catch. “What? She knows what I did. Half the town knows about your anger issues—“

“I caused an explosion during a unit final last year in chemistry. By accident,” you added.

“You are too good at science for it to have been an accident,” Sweet Pea commented.

You rested your head on your knees. “Well, it was.” You simply hadn’t known that the reaction would go that wrong and be that big. It had nothing to do with the fact that your boyfriend just broke up with you because you refused to tell him you loved him, so you canceled class because you wanted to go home, not sit behind him in chemistry.

The silence once more settled over your group, each of you in your own thoughts and miles away from the quarry.

That was, until Fangs spoke. “Well let’s blow some more shit up. By accident.”

"What are we doing today?" Fangs asked, clapping his hands and rubbing them together in his excitement. You rolled your eyes, continuing to unpack the contents of your grocery store bag onto the bank of the quarry.

After the first bottle rocket experiment, Fangs had insisted you come back to teach other 'actually cool science experiments.' "You can homeschool me until I'm cleared to go back," he'd suggested. And like a sucker you fell for it. Even after Fangs returned to school, you always found yourself climbing onto Sweet Pea's motorcycle and riding down to the quarry with them.

Out of habit. You told yourself. Because that's definitely why you did it. Habit. Nothing else.

As a result, there was a direct relationship between the proximity to summer and the frequency of you exploding shit on the Southside.

"Well if Sweet Pea remembered to get the brake fluid this time, I think we're ready for a real explosion," you answered, your eyes darting up to Fangs just in time to see the look of absolute glee light up his face.

"I have it. Hold on, it's in my tent," Sweet Pea grumbled, disappearing into his tent to grab the supplies. Neither you nor Fangs had let it go for the entire week that last Friday Sweet Pea had forgotten the crucial part of your experiment. As a result, the three of you had resorted to sitting by the quarry’s edge and just talking for five hours. It was boring, uncomfortable, awkward, and the reason you were thoroughly convinced that these boys may just be your best friends.

"Fangs," you directed, holding out the Dr. Bob soda bottle.

"On it," he chirped, ripping the label off of the bottle before unscrewing the cap and beginning to chug down the drink. You watched him, counting in your head as the off-brand soda slowly disappeared, stopping when Fangs finally pulled away. Half of the bottle was empty.

"31," you announced. "Best yet."

"I can do better," Fangs said, punctuating the statement with a burp. He handed the bottle off to Sweet Pea who had reappeared with the brake fluid in hand. He reached down, offering the chemicals to you, and you took it from him, your fingers brushing against his. Your skin tingled at the contact, and as normal, you swallowed hard and ignored it. Sweet Pea did too, instead bringing the Dr. Bob to his lips and gulping down the soda quickly. By the time he was finished, only a little remained in each of the pockets at the bottom. You took it from him, careful to grab it at the top and away from his hand and finished it off.

You also pulled out the notably smaller plastic water bottle and finished that by yourself.

"Alright," you gasped, putting the water bottle down. "I need you to fill the chlorine up until here." You pointed to a groove on the water bottle and let your shoulders drop when Sweet Pea took the bag of chlorine from Fangs. As always he stopped right when he was supposed to, placing the water bottle back on the ground next to you.

You offered the soda bottle up to Fangs, and he took it, swapping Sweet Pea for the chlorine.

"Fangs, I swear you better listen to me," you warned, rising up from where you crouched to point a finger at him threateningly.

"I always listen to you," Fangs scoffed, rolling his eyes and stepping forward towards the bottle.

"I mean it. This is actually dangerous."

"I mean it too," he agreed, but that damn glint was in his eyes, and you knew you were in for it.

"So when I say stop, you're actually going to stop pouring it into the bottle."

"Relax. Trust me," he soothed.

"No." Both you and Sweet Pea spoke the word at the same time, and Fangs face split into a grin.

"Ok, I promise I'll stop after you say stop," he agreed, and you nodded so that Sweet Pea reached out the bottle for Fangs to pour the chlorine in. You kept a careful eye on the mark you set in your head, watching as the chlorine fell to the bottom of the bottle.

"Stop," you instructed a little before the mark. The chlorine continued to pour.

"Just a little more," Fangs stated, his lips twitching into a smile.

"Fangs, stop," you snapped as the chlorine piled up over the mark.

"I am--"

Sweet Pea yanked the bottle away from Fangs and some of the chlorine fell out onto the bank of the quarry. He held the bottle out with one hand and punched Fangs hard in the arm with another. Fangs swore as he laughed.

"Give me that," you said, taking the bottle from Sweet Pea and glaring at Fangs. "You're the worst science student. You know that right?"

"You're saying that because I'm from the Southside," he folded his arms.

You shook your head, turning away to place the bottles even closer to the water. "I'm saying that because you're a moron. Sweet Pea, can I have the brake fluid?"

"Sometimes you're just as mean as Toni," Fangs complained.

"She's meaner. That's what makes her such a good replacement," Sweet Pea corrected.

You looked over your shoulder at Sweet Pea, your eyebrows furrowing. "Stop saying that."

"What that you're mean?" Fangs teased.

You stood up straighter, crossing your arms against your chest. "No, stop calling me a replacement."

"What should we call you then? An upgrade?" Sweet Pea smirked.

You shook your head, maintaining your serious expression and ignoring the way your stomach dropped at his words. While he had been making fewer and fewer comments about Toni (maybe due to the fact that she and Cheryl stopped by less and less), there was always one or two about how they didn't need her now that they had you. And you didn't like them. You weren't sure why. "You can't just replace someone Sweet Pea, that's not how it works. People are different."

The smiles fell from the boys' faces. "We know that," Fangs said, earnestly. "It's just a joke. Right?" He hit Sweet Pea in the shoulder who nodded. His face had a new look on it. Something you hadn't seen before and couldn't quite trace to a specific emotion or thought. You decided you didn't like it though. It made you squirm.

"Ok," you swallowed, tearing your eyes from Sweet Pea and turning around back to the bottles. "Bring me the brake fluid.

You didn't look to see who pushed the container into your hand, focusing instead on pouring a proportionate amount of fluid into each container and swirling it to mix it.

"Alright, step back," you instructed, and the boys followed you back to stand a few feet away, all of your eyes glued to the bottles.

The three of you waited in silence. Fangs leaning on your shoulder and Sweet Pea standing so close that if he were just a centimeter to the left, his arm would be touching yours. You waited as a minute passed.

"Fangs, you fucked it up," Sweet Pea commented.

"No," you turned, tilting your head up to face him. "Chemistry takes time."

He raised his eyebrows and moved a fraction of an inch closer so that his arm bumped against yours. You turned your attention back to the experiment and shifted to your left, leaning more into Fangs.

A new silence enveloped the three of you, this one slightly less comfortable than the last. So much so that twenty seconds later you were stepping forward towards the bottles. "Maybe I should have shaken them more---"

A whoosh of fire shot up from water bottle, flames shooting up to five feet high. You jumped, but before you could step back or react in any other way the soda bottle burst into flame with a roar, pieces of chlorine shooting up out of the bottle and whizzing past you. A hand wrapped around your wrist and yanked you back as the three of you scrambled away to escape the burning bottle.

To your left you could hear Fangs' uncontrollable laughter as you slowed to a stop, colliding with Sweet Pea. His arms wrapped around you to steady you, and you glanced up at him. "You good?" he asked, looking down at you with that face again. Your mouth seemed to go dry and the world seemed to spin, and one word rang through your head: out.

You stepped out of his grip, whirling on Fangs with your chest heaving, ignoring the way Sweet Pea's face fell.

"You almost killed me!" you shouted.

"I didn't tell you to step forward," he protested hands up, his eyes flicking from you to the smoldering remains of plastic. You opened your mouth to argue but instead laughter burst out. And then Fangs was laughing again. And Sweet Pea. And the three of you laughed until you cried and then you scavenged bottles from around the campsite to continue setting off explosions until it got dark.

You had taken to sticking around until it got dark after that. Most of the time the three of you would make dinner and eat together after the experiment, and then you'd talk until one of the boys offered to take you home.

Tonight, Fangs had let you know that he wouldn't be available to chauffeur you. "I have a rendezvous," he announced a little while after dinner, standing up from where the three of you had been stargazing.

"A rendezvous?" you repeated, leaning up on your forearms. "With who?"

"I don't kiss and tell, you should know that," he winked, and you rolled your eyes.

"Just make sure you don't get shot this time," Sweet Pea called out from his position on the ground.

Fangs flipped him off, turning to head over to the motorcycle, and you watched him go, a small spark of anxiety making it's home in your chest. You turned to look at Sweet Pea. "Do you know who?"

"Could be anyone," Sweet Pea shrugged, continuing to look up at the stars. You stared at him for a second longer, trying to figure out if he was deflecting or if he really didn't care before laying back down next to him.

It was tempting to push it. To see what he knew about Fangs’ love life. But something about the thought of continuing this conversation set off warning bells. Change the topic, the little voice told you. 

"You know," you said, tucking your arms under your head. "I used to want to be an astronaut."

"Really?" Sweet Pea asked, turning his head to look at you.

"Mhmm," you hummed, keeping your eyes on the stars. "Back before I realized how much fun it is to blow shit up."

Sweet Pea snorted, returning his gaze back up to the stars. "Why?"

"They're so far away from all the bullshit," you whispered expecting to hear him snort again, but instead he was quiet. "And when I look at them, I don't feel so..." you trailed off, your chest growing tight with discomfort as you treaded close to the intimate. You abandoned the statement, taking a different route. "They just make you realize how small all of us are in the grand scheme of things. I like that." Sweet Pea was still quiet next to you and that tight feeling took hold of you once more. You'd shared too much. Gone too deep. You turned to him, fully intending to make a sarcastic comment--something, anything to alleviate the tension, but when you faced him you found that his eyes were on you once more, and your throat closed up, not letting any of the words that you'd planned get out.

"I like that too," he said. His eyes remained fixed on yours, and even though you desperately wanted to look away and back up at the stars or anywhere else, you stayed focused on him. Because dammit, you were going to keep this friendship. You would not self-eject. You would not break away. You would keep eye contact and continue the heart to heart even if it felt like you were being strangled by every prolonged silence.

"Can I ask you a question and you won't be on my shit for getting too personal?"

"Depends on the question," you offered a wavering smile before breaking your promise to yourself and staring back up at the stars, your eyes searching for familiar constellations, anything to separate you from the thoughts and the uncomfortableness of living in your own body.

"Do you really like being by yourself?"

You were somewhat relieved, and a wistful sort of sigh escaped you. "Mostly."

"Mostly?" Sweet Pea repeated.

"I can't do...I'm not a feelings person. It's easier to be by myself." You let a hand fall to the grass, twisting a couple of blades before tugging them out of the earth. "But it's not always...good."

Beside you, Sweet Pea started to laugh, and you swung out your fist, bringing it down to punch him in the stomach. The air left him in a quick exhale even as he continued to try to laugh. "You really are bad at feelings."

"Shut up," you grumbled, a prickly feeling on your skin. "I was being honest."

Sweet Pea attempted to pull himself together. "I know, just...you couldn't find a better word than 'good'?"

"This is why I don't do this shit," you grumbled pushing yourself up into a sitting position so you could get up.

Sweet Pea's hand darted out and grabbed your forearm. "Hey, I'm sorry, stay."

"Not unless we change the subject," you glowered.

The corner of Sweet Pea's mouth quirked up. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know. Tell me something embarrassing. Or don't. We can talk about motorcycles or movies or Hot Dog or anything else," you suggested, breaking from his grip and wrapping your arms around your knees.

Sweet Pea was quiet again, and you wondered if you could somehow disappear at this moment. You could just get up and walk away. Tell him that it was past midnight and you were tired.

"Can I tell you about this girl I like? Or will that make you uncomfortable?" Your stomach rolled, and you suddenly felt the urge to vomit. Instead you shrugged.

"As long as you don't expect me to tap into my romantic side and give some love advice, it should be fine." Your voice came out thankfully flat and sarcastic. You could practically feel Sweet Pea rolling his eyes.

"Like I need love advice from a robot," he scoffed, and you ignored the twinge of pain in your chest but didn't bother to hide the annoyance from your face.

If he noticed the fact that your spine straightened and you grew still, he didn't say anything. There was definitely no apology. Instead, he heaved a dreamy sort of sigh. A sound that quite frankly you should never have heard come out of Sweet Pea's mouth.

"Alright, Romeo, spill."

"She's just extraordinary," he stated simply. A part of you wished you had laid back down so you could sneak a look at his face, but you couldn't move. Instead, you picked at your nails, letting your science partner turned friend--probably best friend--spill his guts. "I don't know her that well...we just started talking a little in school, but I noticed her the first time I ever walked in Riverdale. She just has that sort of presence you know? When she walks into a room, people notice. And not just because she's beautiful. It's like, you can sense how confident she is. And she should be. She's the best at what she does, and I just know she's going to make it big one day, so I kind of want to take my chance now before I lose it forever..." he trailed off and you chanced a glance at him. He was staring up at the stars wistfully, and you looked back down at the ground, rolling a twig between your fingers. "I don't know. Even though she's a Northsider, she's kind of...intimidating. Hard to make a move on."

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest. "If she's intimidating, she's probably used to guys keeping their distance and never saying anything," you murmured. "Maybe take it slow. Play the long game."

"You know that almost sounds like love advice."

You turned back at him, throwing the stick you were twirling so it bounced off his side and onto the ground. He smiled and looked back up at the stars. “I don’t know. She seems more like a bold move type of girl.”

You shrugged. "I'm just a robot."

He didn't say anything. And despite yourself, you could feel your hopes slightly raise.

"But you think I should take a chance?"

Your heart beat faster. "Yeah," you whispered.

He nodded, thinking it over. “Maybe I’ll ask her in math or something.”

Your stomach dropped. You couldn't tell if it was in relief or something else. Because that would be wrapped up in your knot of feelings. What you could tell--what was factual--was that you and Sweet Pea did not have math class together.

That was the last time you saw Sweet Pea.

At least, it felt that way.

You started riding down to the quarry on the back of Fangs' bike, Sweet Pea meeting up with you later mid-way through the experiments. At first, you had made jokes that you needed him there in order to keep Fangs in line. After all, if he was gone, who was going to actually help you with the experiment?

But then he started coming just to watch the results of the experiments.

And then it started to take him hours to come back to the campsite, and he missed them completely, having to ask questions about just why there was rainbow covered foam everywhere or what had that charred out bottle even been originally.

And then he stopped asking about the experiments. By the last day of school he stopped coming at all.

It was the second week of summer before either you or Fangs talked about it.

The two of you sat by the edge of the quarry, covered in paint and the marks of your explosions littering the trees and the ground around you. It had been your most successful Post-Sweet Pea experiment yet. Presumably because Fangs was allowed to shake up the experiments and hurl ziplock baggies full of paint anywhere he wanted. The experiment was practically tailored to his destructive soul.

It was probably the post-chaos peace, the most disarming kind of quiet and calm there was, that made him ask.

"So," Fangs said slowly, looking over at you out of the corner of his eye. "How are you doing?"

Your brow furrowed in confusion as you turned to face him. "Good?"

He let out an amused exhale, shaking his head. "I mean with the whole Josie thing."

"Oh," you responded, still confused. "Also good?"

"Good," Fangs said, turning his full attention back out to the quarry.

You followed suit, watching as the water gently moved, the sunlight reflecting off the surface so that the water glittered. You tried to keep your mind focused on how beautiful the day was. How nice it felt to feel the sun on your skin. How peaceful the quiet was and how you didn't feel suffocated in silence when you were next to Fangs. Being still next to him was easy in a way it just wasn't with Sweet Pea.

"Why?" The word escaped. Lulled out of you by the calm afternoon and immediately your stomach clenched. You could see Fangs shift to face you slightly, his eyes running over the profile of your face as you purposefully kept your eyes out on the quarry, staying as still as possible.

Fangs shrugged, joining you once more in looking out over the water. "I just thought the two of you would be a thing."

Your heart stopped. Everything stopped. You’d been expecting it to some extent, but still. Carefully, you pushed down all of the feelings and discomfort that rose in your chest, keeping your mind focused on the moment you were in now, not letting it slide back to the night you and Sweet Pea stared at the stars or any of the times you rode on the back of his motorcycle, your arms wrapped around his middle to get to here. You focused instead on the facts. 

Sweet Pea and you had never been anything more than friends. 

You had gone into this wanting to be friends only. 

Friendship was easier. 

Friendship was safer.

"We're just friends," you said picking up a rock and throwing it into the water. "It's cool."

"Cool," Fangs echoed. He didn't say anything else, and after a while you let yourself be wrapped up in the silence too, enjoying just sitting with him.

You meant what you told Fangs.

You and Sweet Pea were only ever friends. Just friends.

You believed it with every fiber of your being.

Until you saw him and Josie at Sweetwater River.

While you spent most of your evenings with Fangs, destroying shit, causing mayhem and laughing until you couldn't breathe, you enjoyed spending the long summer days by yourself. Sometimes it was reading. Other times it was gardening. And on days as hot as today, you would go swimming, regardless of the risks.

You pulled your car in behind a maroon sedan, throwing the keys into your bag with your towel and heading down to the secluded spot on the river you favored. The fact that there was another car parked by the river wasn't too unusual. After all, it was the best parking space, nearest to where the river was widest and most of the high school kids and college kids home from break did their swimming. Your spot was firmly in the other direction, a narrow section of the river where it was a little shallower and therefore not quite as dangerous to swim alone in.

Due to the trees and brush surrounding the path, it wasn't until you were most of the way down to your spot that you saw them.

Laying out on a blanket, Sweet Pea hovered over Josie as she wrapped herself around him. You snapped your eyes shut, turning quickly and trying to block out the breathy sounds that were escaping her as you scrambled back up the path. You felt dizzy and nauseous. Even after you climbed into the front seat of your car and slammed the door shut.

You held on tightly to the steering wheel. So tightly your knuckles were white and your elbows locked into place and your back pushed against the seat of the car. And then you saw it again. Sweet Pea's hands gripping at Josie's chest as he kissed at the underside of her jaw. The look of ecstasy on Josie's face as she gripped tightly onto Sweet Pea's shoulders, his hand moving and cupping the side of her neck as he dipped his head to kiss along her collarbone.

You collapsed suddenly, your forehead banging against the wheel as you choked out a sob. Your body shuddered and shook with the force of your crying as you beat the wheel with the palm of your hand, every now and then missing the edge and startling the animals nearby with a honk.

It took a few minutes before you pulled yourself together enough to sit up, shoot off a text, shift your car into drive, and start back onto the main road.

It was another twenty minutes or so before you parked at the edge of the Sunnyside Trailer Park campsite.

"Hey, Y/N are you ok?" Fangs asked, coming to meet you as you slammed your car door closed, brushing past him as you stormed down to the riverbank, the plastic grocery store bag swishing and bouncing against your leg.

"Let's blow some shit up." Your voice was still gravelly, and you were certain your eyes were still red and wet. You may’ve even had a red mark on your forehead

To his credit, he didn't try to make you talk. He turned on his heel and followed you down to the river bank, following your instructions precisely before standing back and waiting patiently as you poured toilet bowl cleaner into the different plastic bottles. You walked backward slowly, your eyes on the bottles, only stopping when you felt your arm brush against Fangs'.

You watched as the bottles slowly filled with white smoke, the plastic expanding and elongating before finally erupting loudly, one after each other.

Fangs chanced a glance at you, concern and hesitation obvious as he stared at the tear streaks running down your face. You wiped them off with the back of your hand. "It's just the loud noises," you mumbled weakly, and he nodded, throwing an arm around your shoulder as you stared at the smoking remains of your bottle rockets. You stood there completely still for a minute, maybe two before you turned into him, allowing him to wrap his arms around you, holding you close as you sobbed onto his shirt.

Neither of you talked about that day ever again.

You found other conversation topics to fill up your summer. From Archie Andrew's court case, to Fangs string of unnamed conquests, to new methods of creating explosions, and once or twice the proposition that you should join the Southside Serpents.

You didn't go anywhere besides your home and the Quarry, and as it turned out, you liked your summer that way. It was safer. Better. No anxiety that you might run into anyone you didn't want to see. Which was why when Fangs invited you to come to Cheryl's end of summer pool party with him, you declined.

Because everyone would be there.

Fangs didn't try to convince you to change your mind. Because he was the best friend you could ever wish for. He didn't even tell you how in one week you were going to have to face the facts whether you wanted to or not. He nodded and mentioned offhand that Jughead had asked him and Sweet Pea to meet here in fifteen minutes. Which coincidentally reminded you of the chores your mother had asked you to do at home that you needed to get to immediately.

And that was why you were entirely unprepared to find Sweet Pea by your locker at the end of the first day of school.

"Hey," he smiled.

You didn't say anything, focusing on keeping your hands still, keeping your face straight, keeping your shit together. You raised your eyebrows, silently moving to open your locker. Sweet Pea turned, leaning his shoulder on the locker next to you.

"You look familiar. Weren't we lab partners or something last year?"

"Or something," you remarked quietly, putting your books back into your locker.

He snorted and ran a hand through his hair. "How was your summer?"

"Good," you shrugged. You tugged your backpack out, slipping it onto your shoulder.

"Yeah?" he asked. "Fangs told me about some of the shit you did." You hummed, closing your locker door and ignoring the way his eyebrows furrowed. "We should do a repeat tonight."

You paused, keeping your hand on your locker. "I can't."

"Hey," Fangs greeted, coming up to the two of you and hanging an arm over Sweet Pea's shoulder despite the height difference. Both you and Sweet Pea ignored the greeting.

"Why not?" Sweet Pea asked, shrugging Fangs' arm off of his shoulder.

Your eyes found Fangs' and then darted back to your locker. "I have homework for my AP classes already. Sorry," you said firmly and with noticeably absent sympathy. "I'll see you guys later." You gave them a brief tight-lipped smile before turning around speed walking your way to the bus.

You thought that maybe after the first week back your stomach would stop doing that dropping thing every time you saw him.

It didn't.

You also thought that maybe after the first couple of weeks you wouldn't want to throw up every time you saw Josie.

You still did.

Even though you knew she and Sweet Pea weren't together, you could still hear those sounds in your head which almost made it impossible to not puke.

But it did get easier to not think about it over a few weeks. You changed your seat in all of the classes you shared together, sitting in the front of the classroom, closest to the door so it was easy to scoot out. You ate lunch in the band practice rooms, primarily because it was easier to hide there than anywhere else and the band teacher had long since given up on enforcing school rules. You started to remember why you loved being alone so much.

By the time it was almost the end of the third week of school, you had once again perfected the art of being by yourself. Only caving every now and then to respond to Fangs' texts.

Life was better this way.

"Y/L/N!" You had been on your way to English when suddenly someone had grabbed your arm, pulling you to a stop. You jumped a little, turning to see Sweet Pea holding you by your bicep. "What's going on?"

"I'm going to class?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows at him and attempting to calm your rapidly beating heart.

"No," he pulled you over to the side of the hallway and you stumbled a few steps before ripping your arm out of his grasp.

"Let go, shit," you mumbled, turning your arm to look at it as if expecting to see some kind of damage.

"Why are you avoiding me?" Sweet Pea demanded, folding his arms as he stared down at you.

"I'm not. I'm going to class. Trying to get an education," you rolled your eyes attempting to push past him.

He stopped you, grabbing you by the shoulders and bringing you back to face him. "Cut the bullshit."

"Get your hands off of me," you snapped, your eyes darting around him to see other students slowing down on their way to class to watch the confrontation. As if you were a spectacular car crash for them witness and assess the damage. Sweet Pea let go immediately, but his face grew darker.

"What's your problem?"

"No problem." You shrugged, keeping your face closed off and distant.

"So you're pretending I don't exist for....fun?" Sweet Pea guessed. "That's fucked up, Y/N."

Your eyes followed the students who were now blatantly rubbernecking, looking anywhere other than Sweet Pea. "Like you can talk.” 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

No emotion. No feelings. Nothing. Just facts. you chanted to yourself. Just state the facts.

"Just that it's pretty convenient you want to exist and be a part of my life now, but where were you this summer?"

"I was busy," he said exasperatedly as if you were some toddler who didn't understand why her parents went to work instead of playing with her all day.

"And now I am. Sorry I don’t fit into your schedule," you shrugged, moving past him and out into the hall. The warning bell rang. It was the surprising sound that made your eyes sting.

"I thought we were friends," his voice called at your back. You whirled around, finding him much closer than expected. So close that if you had wanted to, you could have easily stabbed a finger into his chest. But you didn't want to. You didn't want to ever touch him.

"Yeah, so did I. Until I sat by the quarry all summer with Fangs while you were busy fucking Josie all over town." You turned back around to head off to class. "Fuck off," you called over your shoulder.

"Did you have to yell at him?" Fangs asked, leaning against the locker next to yours. You looked up slightly startled from where you had been exchanging your books. "Because he's being a huge pain in the ass now."

"I don't want to talk about it," you answered, shoving harder on your binder to try to get it to fit inside.

"Of course not."

You glared at him but didn't rise to the bait.

"You told him you saw him and Josie?" he raised his eyebrows.

"I told you I don't want to talk about it." You rotated the binder, hoping to fit it in the new way, pushing it until finally it slipped past the edge of the door.

Fangs sighed. "We didn't talk about it all summer. Give me this one conversation now."

"No." You slammed your locker closed, starting to walk away.

"This is why," he stated to your back, and you turned to face him, shocked to hear any sort of annoyance pass Fangs' lips. The words weren't heated, more exasperated. "This is why you two are so fucked."

You crossed your arms and remained silent.

"Neither of you will talk to the other."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Bullshit." Fangs dismissed. "You like him. He likes you. Discuss."

"Sweet Pea didn’t tell you? I’m just a robot. Nothing to discuss" 

"You’re not a robot. You may not like to talk about your feelings, but it doesn't change the fact that you have them."

You felt indignant. At least you tried to hold onto that feeling even as your chin began to quiver. Fangs' shoulders dropped as he stared at you, taking a few steps closer.

“It’s not fair.” Your voice came out petulant and broken. “Why do I have to forgive him and get over it, and he gets to do whatever he wants. He ignored me for months but I can’t do it for like three weeks?”

“Are you really that petty?”

“Yes," you answered. “I don’t know.”

“Talk to him, y/n. Tell him about the day you went to Sweetwater River.”

“No. Never.”

“Then don’t. Just stop making me watch whatever this is,” he said, and with that he turned around and left you standing in the middle of the hallway.

You got fairly good at avoiding both Sweet Pea and Fangs after that. If anything, the confrontation with Fangs was a reminder of why it was always better to be by yourself. Even friends got too annoyingly involved for their own good. Analyzing you. Evaluating your emotions and your actions. Eventually everyone expected too much out of you.

And you didn't need that bullshit.

What you needed was to pick yourself up, dust yourself off and carry on without them. Like always. Show them you didn't need their approval. You didn't need their advice. You didn't need their presence in your life.

You were happy alone.

You were fine alone.

You would be ok alone

As soon as you showed them you didn't need them.

And that was exactly the opportunity presented to you by Veronica Lodge's invitation to attend her new speakeasy's opening night. It was also the reason you got dressed up as requested and put more than a minuscule effort into your appearance for once in your life. Because you wanted them to see that you were thriving own your own. And he could just eat his heart out that he had to live without you from now on. They. You meant they.

You pulled yourself from your thoughts, instead focusing on the details of the room around you. At how absolutely fabulous everything looked. The old-fashioned lighting. The velvet curtained stage. The classmates dressed in dazzling clothes. Everything exuded charm and class, and it was easy to lose yourself in the time capsule.

"Hey."

You turned to face the person who greeted you, ignoring the lurch in your stomach that you wished would vanish.

Sweet Pea stood there, hands in his pockets, staring down at you. He was dressed head to toe in black, his silky button-up shirt rolled up to his elbows and arms decked out with the usual bracelets he never took off. You couldn't help but notice the absence of his dog tags and wondered if he tucked them in for the night or left them at home. You hated yourself for noticing.

"Hey," you greeted softly, and he stepped closer, and now you couldn't help but notice that despite the fact he dressed up his hair was still a tousled mess, falling over his forehead in random curls.

Dammit.

"I didn't think I you'd come to this thing," he said with an exhale, stopping a few feet away.

"Why not? I like mocktails and music," you shrugged, swirling your own mocktail in your hand as if the action gave more authenticity to your words.

"Josie's singing," he answered simply. It took everything in you to keep eye contact.

"So?"

"I didn't think you liked her."

You shrugged, taking a careful sip of your drink. "I don't have any problems with Josie."

"Then why were you on my shit about this summer?" his eyes narrowed.

"Because it wasn't particularly fun being blown off all summer regardless of you were spending time with," you answered, tightly.

Sweet Pea crossed his arms and lifted an eyebrow. "What happened to you like being alone?"

You paused, and his eyes glittered with triumph. Inside your chest, your heart constricted as if it recognized defeat as well, and the only honorable way out was through a sudden heart attack and death.

"Fuck this," you muttered, placing your drink on the bar and brushing past him to dart up the stairs.

He followed, pushing people out of the way in his haste to catch up to you. "Can you stop leaving every conversation I try to have with you?" he called at your back as the two of you rushed through Pop's and out the front doors.

You stopped and spun. "Why? There's nothing to talk about. I thought we'd hang out this summer; we didn't. Obviously we're not as close as I thought. We're on the same page now."

"Why are you so mad about this?" he shouted, stopping a few feet away from you.

"Why are you so mad I'm ignoring you now?" you returned, watching people scramble to get out of their cars and speed walk inside. As if they were running away from a bomb they knew was about to explode. Which might be appropriate.

"Because it doesn't make any fucking sense!" he held out his hands as if he wanted to strangle you but instead curled them into fists and shook a little.

"I missed you, you dumbass!" You blurted out, chest heaving as you stared at him. He took the confession in the same way you imagined he'd take a punch. A look of shock passed over his face as he stepped back towards Pop's and then seemed to regain his balance and took a step forward. Your shoulders dropped as the anger seemed to drain from you, leaving you with all of the feelings you'd been so careful to push down. "All summer. I missed you. And you didn't miss me because you had her," you continued softly.

"What?" He asked trying to follow your words as your face heated up like it was on fire, and you felt like you wanted to cry or throw up or explode into tiny bits. You pressed your lips together, trying to keep it in, keep it down. You offered a jerky shrug. "So what was this all some kind of revenge?"

You shook your head.

"Then why the hell were you ignoring me if you missed me?"

You looked away from him.

"Dammit, Y/N!" he shouted, and you turned back to him.

And in the next second you darted forwards swiftly putting a hand on his shoulder to help launch yourself up, standing on your tiptoes and leaning into him, pressing your lips to his. His hands caught your waist, almost reflexively, supporting you even though his lips didn't move. Didn't press into yours. Didn't open. Didn't do anything.

You pulled back, sinking down onto your heels. Sweet Pea didn't say anything. Or move his hands. Instead he looked down at you with an eyebrow quirked.

You had thought---You swallowed the thought, pushing it down with the other ones, and letting the feeling that you had taken a bad situation and fucked it up even more wash over you. Fucking feelings. Your lips moved, trying to make any sort of words, but every time you attempted to say something your voice caught in your throat. "I can't--" you finally whispered, attempting to take a step back and out of Sweet Pea's grasp, but his hands tightened on your hips.

His face still seemed angry. Maybe even more now than before you had kissed him. "You've been avoiding me because you have feelings for me?"

You looked down at your feet.

"How long?"

You shook your head.

"How long?" His voice was slightly angrier, and he gently shook you by your waist.

"Since we set off the rockets in class," you whispered, still refusing to meet his eye.

He exhaled a disbelieving kind of laugh. "And you let me feel like an ass for liking you? And then again for having a summer fling so I could move on from you since you were clearly not interested?"

It would have been nice if you could tell him that you had no idea he liked you. Tell him that you hadn't purposefully distanced yourself and tried to make it seem like you weren't interested. That you hadn't convinced yourself you weren't interested. Because then you wouldn't have felt like such shit in this moment.

"I'm sorry." Your voice was still quiet. "I wanted to save you from this."

"This?"

"Me. Being a disaster who can't feelings. This always happens. It's why I blew up a lab. It's why I'm alone. I'm broken, ok? Just let me avoid you, and you'll be better off."

"No." Sweet Pea said quietly, pulling you closer to him.

"No?" Your voice came out smaller than you wanted it to.

"Not this time. No," he shook his head.

"It'll just get worse."

"We'll work it out."

You felt the familiar claustrophobic panic rise in your chest. The one from the way he looked at you the first time you set off an explosion by the quarry. The one that had taken hold of you at the lake while you were gazing at stars with him all those months ago. You looked up into his eyes and found them fixated on you, and it all felt like too much. The fact that he knew you liked him. And he liked you. And you guys would be in a relationship. Together. And how could a robot like you ever deserve someone like him or even come close to making him feel as happy as you did when the two of you were running away from a soda bottle that was about to explode.

But the promise of more moments like those and not having to see him with someone else, the knowledge that to some extent he hated not being with you too, the feeling of having him stand close to you with his hands firmly on your body. Those things would be enough to push through this moment and maybe even the next.

"Ok," you whispered, looking up at him.

"Good," he nodded, bending over and capturing your lips into his. And it felt like bottle rockets. Not the thrill of setting one off and waiting too long to run away, but as if you were the water bottle expanding and expanding, full of longing and anxiety and happiness and other emotions you weren't sure the names of, and now, kissing Sweet Pea, you were exploding into a billion pieces, feeling everything all at once and enjoying every second of it.

[nananaptime]

Request scenario : na jaemin and (y/n) bff since they're smol and grew up together, now at high school when (y/n) meets a guy (can be one of the dreamies) who likes her, jaemin gets jealous bcs the guy is literally stealing her away, thankies♡ I luv u and ur writing so much author nim♡♡♡

Open Your Eyes

This took so long, oops xD

I hope you like it

MasterlistRules

Genre: Angsty?

Word count: 2 401

Summary: Being in love with your best friend becomes obvious once there’s a reason for jealousy.

~

Jaemin gave me a confused look as I skipped towards where my bike was parked outside the apartment complex and giggled as I approached him with it at my side. A judging look crossed his face as I the sound resonated from my throat, causing it to become even louder. He sighed, fighting the smile willing to appear on his face.

“What are you so happy about? Please, give me my normal friend back.” We climbed onto our bikes and started biking towards our local high school. He received my explanation all the while, listening and scoffing at the reason behind my giddiness. “So you’re reacting like this because someone new is joining our year? I knew you liked meeting new people but wow, not to this extent.” I shook my head at his teasing comments, knowing he meant nothing by it.

“From what I hear, he’ll be in my English and history classes, and I’ll do everything in my power to make him feel welcome. You know new students more often than not have a hard time adapting to school life with new people, especially when transferring in the middle of a semester.” He nodded, acknowledging the fact but not fighting the small pout that soon appeared on his face.

“Yeah, but someone else can do that, we were supposed to eat out at the bleachers today, and then you said you’d watch me practice my dancing after school.” The whiney tone grew with every word and I giggled at his behaviour.

“He can join us can’t he? If I’m not incorrect, I’ve snapped up that he dances as well so maybe you two can exchange tips or something. I’m not trusting someone else with the important task of making someone else feel welcome.” I caught the huff which left Jaemin’s lips but no more arguments followed it, and so we biked the rest of the way in peace.

We parted ways with a hug once we reached the school, him having to attend his science class and I, my English class.

There was already a boy talking to the teacher when I arrived, seemingly settling details such as the coursebook and what he already knew from his last school. He was clad in a slightly oversized hoodie with a pair of black jeans. I waited until they were done before approaching the desk with a smile. Ms, Williams had a knowing look in her eyes, silently thanking me for what she knew I was about to offer.

“Ms, Williams! Knowing how difficult it is to find students who have the time and want to introduce a new student to the school, I’m more than happy to shoulder the responsibility.” Ms, Williams’ smile grew as I finished my sentence and she instantly agreed, finding the idea to be exceptional. She encouraged the new student to connect with me today and suggested being seatmates in her class, knowing that might spur some conversation during the practical half of the class. With that said, I threw the new student a smile, relieved to see that he was already smiling back at me, seemingly not having anything against spending some time with me.

As we sat down, I introduced myself and found out that his name was Jeno in the process. His smile was so bright that his eyes were almost impossible to spot and just the sight of it caused another smile to appear on my lips. During the class, I spent most of the time explaining what we had been going over the past couple of weeks and later helped him as much as I could with the practical exercises. The entire ordeal was filled with laughter and jokes and I don’t think I’ve ever gotten this close to someone this quick before. Well, except for Jaemin.

Just before bidding each other goodbye I asked whether or not he’d the willing to join me and Jaemin for lunch later on. He shone up as soon as my enquiry registered and accepted with immense energy. Then he thanked me for giving him something to look forward to before being on his way to geography class.

The rest of the morning, I had a difficult time concentrating on what the teachers said, math had never come easy to me either way and hence, not concentrating did not make the challenge smaller. All I could think about was whether or not Jaemin would click with Jeno just as much as I did. He usually got along with everybody, so it shouldn’t be that much of an issue, but for some reason, I had a bad feeling at the bottom of my belly.

Jaemin met me outside the classroom and accompanied me to the cafeteria where we fetched our food. I didn’t get responses that was satisfactory while describing my encounter with Jeno. This only resulted in my bad feeling becoming worse and I threw a glare his way.

“Dude, you haven’t even met him, give him a chance before adapting that whiney personality you so regularly seem to display.” I accepted my food with gratitude and turned to him, stopping in the doorway to wait for Jeno to join us.

“He’s just a guy, no need to put him on such a pedestal.” I rolled my eyes as Jaemin sourly popped a potato tot into his mouth.

“Just you wait, you’ll like him, you like everybody, you don’t have it in you to dislike someone once you’ve met them, no matter how much you might want to.” He scoffed at me before stealing one of my fries. “Hey, you have your own food!” I exclaimed and laughed, moving my tray of food away from him.

“You took the last fries though!” He tried snatching yet another one but I smacked his hand away, causing him to retrieve it in fake shock. “Oh, now you’ve done it!” My shrieks caused many faces to turn our way as Jaemin’s finger found its way to my side, resulting in me crumbling in fits of laughter and screams, desperately trying to stabilize my tray of food in my arms while avoiding his attacks like the plague.

The ruckus ended only when someone cleared their throat beside us.

“Jeno!” I exclaimed, giving him a smile in return of the one he displayed on his face. “Jeno, this is my best friend Jaemin. Nana, this is Jeno.” Jeno extended his hand for a greeting which Jaemin accepted, albeit unwillingly. I bumped his shoulder, shooting him a meaningful look, telling him to be nice. With a small roll of his eyes, he turned his frown into a smile, putting in an effort to engage in some kind of conversation with Jeno. Satisfied with the current course of events, I started walking towards the bleachers, the boys behind me having a conversation regarding some new video game I wasn’t familiar with.

I sat down on one of the cold, metal benches outside, with Jaemin taking a seat next to me and Jeno on the bench further down in front of me, turned the wrong way around in order to exert some social sense. He joined in my and Jaemin’s talk about his upcoming dance recital which turned into me investigating his own dance story and what style he prefered. I could feel Jaemin’s eyes burning into the side of my face but did my best to ignore it, more surprised than anything as to why he wasn’t happy to talk about his biggest interest.

I asked Jeno if he could show us some moves, which he declined, explaining that he needed to warm up if he was to do any move justice. I heard Jaemin scoff at this and glanced at him, seeing him with his eyes turned to his food which he was just poking around at with his fork. Jeno’s smile faltered slightly but he continued socializing happily, not letting Jaemin’s rude behaviour get him down.

“You could show me another time then! We have many dance rooms at the school due to it being an extracurricular activity.”

“That’s a good idea!  I might need to buy new dancing shoes though, but I think I have the time to do that today after school. I need to check out this city anyway.” He took a bite of his food.

“If you want, I could accompany you and show you around. Wouldn’t want you getting lost.” All he could do was laugh at my joke, and nodded to accept my request.

“Y/N… You said you’d watch me dance after school.” I turned my attention to Jaemin and my heart broke slightly at the sad expression on his face, a small pout adorning his lips.

“Ah… Yes, I forgot about that. Can we postpone it? I mean, I’ve watched you dance so many times, it’s not like I’m missing anything, right?” His eyes shifted down to his food and a small “Yes” left his lips, leaving me feeling incredibly guilty. Before we could continue the conversation, the bell went off, alerting us of the end of lunch.

The shoe shopping had been quite enjoyable, especially since it had been followed by a cup of coffee at my favourite café as well as a visit to the bookstore and the game store, indulging in one interest each. We then bid each other goodbye at the bus stop as we were going in different directions and hence, catching different busses. We also decided to meet up earlier at the school library the next day as he needed some help with the History material he had gotten from their history teacher.

That’s where I was when my phone started ringing on the table beside me. I realised my mistake when I noticed the caller ID and answered it with a timid “hello”.

“Y/N, where are you, I’ve been waiting outside your place for ten minutes now and you’re never late.” The guilt instantly took hold of me.

“I am so sorry, Nana. I forgot to let you know that I was going to school earlier today. I’m helping Jeno with some school work.” I heard him suppress a groan.

“You’re with Jeno?”

“Yeah, he needed-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I’ll see you later.” Then he hung up. I looked at the phone, feeling a lump in my belly at the thought of having hurt my best friend. My best friend whom I’ve tried suppressing my feelings for the last couple of years. My best friend who’s never left my side and always prioritised me, even over himself. which I’ve scolded him for on several occasions. I knew my own faulty traits, one of them being focusing all my energy on one event or one person and hence forgetting everything else around me. I can’t believe I let it affect Jaemin like this.

“You okay?” Jeno asked carefully, giving me a sympathetic look. I nodded slightly.

“Yeah! Yeah, let’s finish this before our classes start shall we.” I received another nod and we continued in silence, only talking when he had a question.

I didn’t see Jaemin until lunch, which he was spending alone by a table in the corner of the cafeteria, earphones in and ignoring the world around him. I fetched my food and sat down in front of him. He glanced up at me before removing his earphones with a sigh and putting them in his pocket.

“Nana, I really am sorry.”

“It’s fine, who am I to decide who you can and can’t hang out with.” He didn’t look at me as he said it and every word had been dipped in bitterness. A small sigh left my lips, trying to think of how I could fix this.

“You have dance practice this afternoon as well, right?” He nodded and continued eating. “I’ll join you then and you can show me what you’ve been working on!” I attempted to smile at him but it fell as quickly as I’d manage to conjure it.

“I can dance alone, you go spend time with Jeno.” Then he left to leave his now empty tray, leaving me alone at the table.

I decided to show up anyway. Maybe my stubborn personality would manage to win him over. I was not going to let this fight pull us apart, we had too many years of friendship under our belt for that.

He was warming up when I arrived at the dance studio, stretching down to reach his toes, which he didn’t succeed with but was satisfied with either way. He noticed me in the mirror as he stood to his full length again, cocking one eyebrow as to enquire the reason behind my presence.

“I thought I said I’d be fine on my own.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to watch you dance, you know how much I love seeing you do what you love.” He scoffed slightly, however, with less resentment than before.

“You sure you wouldn’t rather be with your new bestie?” This time, it was my turn to scoff and roll my eyes.

“You know that I’m allowed to have more friends than you right? I know I screwed up and I apologized for it, no need to be mean about it.”

“Of course you’re allowed to have friends, I just wish it didn’t rub the fact that that’s exactly what I am in my face.” He kept his eyes on the mirror, as he stretched his arms.

“What? What are you talking about Nana?” An unbelievable laugh left his lips and he turned to me.

“Y/N, I don’t want to be your friend. I never wanted to be just your friend.” My brain did not make the connection as fast as I would’ve liked.

“So, what? You don’t want to hang out with me anymore?” Another laugh and he shook his head at me.

“I really need to force your eyes open, huh?” The confusion written on my face caused him to approach me, stopping only inches away from me. “Y/N, I don’t want to be your friend, I want to be your boyfriend.” My breath hitched in my throat. He glanced down to my lips. “Would a kiss be inappropriate or would it be an action ending on a happy note?”

Instead of answering him, I cradled his face and pressed my lips to his in a soft kiss.

[marxsgrandson]

“You’re not Russian, you’re just American with some Russian blood”- my Israeli PS professor (who is neither Russian nor American nor knows anything about me)

Long post ahead: read it if you’d like but mostly just hoping there’s someone else who can relate to the feelings I’m about to express. So here goes:

Had an unbelievably shitty day today.

I’m in this one political science class. It always ends up somehow ruining my mood. It’s the one with the shitty German men who confronted me in a group after class accusing me of being uncritical towards the Soviet Union, being an antisemite (lol these aryan guys were calling me an antisemite. Like they’re confirmed non-Jewish) and being a dumbass for not idk sucking Gorbachev’s dick personally would be the next leap there. Idk if I posted that here, but it’s necessary context.

Anyways today we were talking about Russia’s motive in x place and just jumping around to every unrelated topic about something about Russia because our class always gets sidetracked and never finishes the lesson we were supposed to do. And of course the Europeans were being pieces of shit.

And the prof said something like “I wish we had Russians in the class to offer maybe a Russian perspective too... like gosh that would be nice. Do we have any Russians?” And I sort of tentatively raised my hand half way because I’m half Russian and when she was looking around the room and didn’t see me, I said “I’m half Russian and this is actually something I heard and talked a lot about growing up, I could take a try at it”

“You’re not Russian, you’re just American with a little Russian blood” she said, dismissing me entirely as the class laughed like it was the funniest thing they’ve ever heard. I now realize what it means when people say they feel stung. I was paralyzed by those words and I don’t really know why. What makes it hurt more is that starting two seconds later she called on a series of five German douchebags to try and explain Russia’s motives and says “huh that’s an interesting idea” after each of them say something painfully obviously wrong. And I felt frozen.

If given the chance to unfreeze myself, I wish I said what I was feeling but didn’t have words for: “Hey. That’s not true. Russian was the language I said my first words in. It’s the language of my childhood and my soul. It connected me to something I felt distant from during the school day. I taught myself to read this language as soon as my mom taught me the alphabet as a little kid. I went to Russian school on the weekends when I was young. I worked hard to keep up this language even though I went through shit from my peers for it. I was the only speaker of this language I knew that was my age after the age of 10. The only other time I’d hear it was when my mom criticized me, wanted to manipulate me (because I told her she sounded sweeter in Russian so she used that to her advantage in making my life hell) bc my brother stopped speaking at a young age.

The only reason I have this connection is because I’ve never worked harder for anything else in my life. I took years of Russian lit courses (in Russian) at the local uni when I was in high school. Until then I’d only done math and reading (just for fun not for school) in Russian. Having learning and sight disabilities and being expected to keep up with both college and high school class and workloads was overwhelming at times. Like I was 14, this wasn’t an “easy A” as my friends joked, it was a college level literature course. But I loved it like nothing else. It was an oasis of peace during my adolesence just getting to hear my dearest language spoken by both native speakers and those who adopted it just because of their love for it. It was the first time I realized that this aspect of me isn’t shameful. Plus, the college kids treated me like I was such a hotshot because I grew up speaking the language and I was like a tiny 14 year old in a russia Olympic jacket and a bowl cut so that made my life. Just getting to be around places where for once, I understood everything that was being said in the exact emotion it was intended, having my cultural touchstones be the norm and that I got to interact with instantly more people in this language was really special.

Maybe what pissed me off so much is not only that I think it’s wrong, but that I think she’s right. My experience is different from a Russian experience, which is why I never claimed to be Russian even when I was the most Russian person in that classroom. My experience of being Russian (Jewish) (Italian)American is as much a story of love and connection as it is of shame and disconnection. It is the story of pain feeling inadequate to everyone, always. When I was six, kids were already refusing to play with me because their parents told them I was a spy or an enemy (which wtf who parents their kid like that) just because I talked about visiting my family in the summer (which is a normal thing to do) and gd forbid they live in RUSSIA. The bullshit hasn’t stopped since. My entire childhood, my mom was vigilant about who I was allowed to tell about being Russian because of it. I thought Russian a really important language to people here. I thought they cared about us. I thought someone else who didn’t have to care about us, fucking cared about us Russian Jews. How can a fellow Jew, an academic, not understand the inherent pluralism of Jewish and Russian experiences when she’s lived in this country surrounded by Russian Jews her whole life?

And I get it. I’m not technically Russian. I don’t have a Russian passport. I didn’t grow up in Russia and that still means there’s always someone more qualified to answer certain questions. But I didn’t think it was going to be some goyische fucking German. Cuz at least I saw saturated with these types of discussions about Russian politics, not being allowed to voice my opinion bc these are Russian jewish middle aged and older people lol kids don’t have valid opinions to them, but listening intently since infancy. I watched Russian news and tv shows (we didn’t have money for both English and Russian language tv so my mom chose the Russian tv channels) on the rare occasion I sat in front of the tv. I hung around Russian speakers more than English speakers (of my parent’s age and older) for most of my childhood until this year. And it’s not just the language, it’s the culture too. It’s the fact that no one around me shared these cultural touchstones growing up. and I didn’t share their American ones even though I grew up in the US.

But trips to Russia didn’t make me feel understood in the ways I craved it would. My family always commented on how amazingly I spoke Russian «просто без акцента!» (without an accent) *insert kisses from relatives you don’t even know who they are but they know everything about you* so I was always kind of aware that I couldn’t seamlessly fit in there either. Especially when in my mom’s small town, children who played with me had literally never seen someone with my color of skin and told me I looked “dirty” which catalyzed my whole washing my hands till my arms got dry and peeled and being frightened that I wasn’t getting “cleaner” and then getting diagnosed with my second subset of OCD at the age of seven. I had so many fond memories of my mom’s hometown. So much nostalgia. But I also have memories which pain me, like the many times I was chased out of stores or once in a doctor’s office because the person assumed I was Roma because of my appearance (like I said, small town). Things got even worse when the school I went to summer camp/summer classes in my mom’s hometown found out I was JEWISH. Oof. My mom convinced me that I was betraying my culture and my ancestors and alienating myself from my grandmother when I came out to her at 11, when I cut my hair after three years of her daily verbal harassment in my mother tongue (she knew it hurts more like that). She said if I wanted to continue “on this path” I would lose all connection to Russia.... “and you don’t want that, do you?” Suffice it to say, I got the message pretty young that I don’t belong in Russia either.

My whole life I’ve been translating half of my world to the other half of my world. And within each of these worlds I must translate my contexts many fold times more. (My Babushka still doesn’t know why I’m putting “poison” in my body for what she sees as a character flaw because she just doesn’t have the context for what ADHD is and the way I was taught to translate it in Russian is «дефицит внимание» or “deficit of attention/carefulness” which as far as she’s concerned is just an American invention for what could really be solved if I just sat more still.) And this has made my world so much richer to be lucky enough to have two native languages in which I learned how to express myself and gave me two whole realms through which to intimately understand the world and all of its nuances. You gain a family when you speak a language. It’s unlike anything else! It was even more special that I got to add Arabic at 12 and now Hebrew. I’m so lucky. But an inherent downside of being taught world views that conflict with each other in some very fundamental ways is really hard when you’re autistic and have ADHD because you have to juggle not just one set of social cues and norms, but two (or more, shout out to the multilinguals from childhood). It’s hard but it’s important and I’m so lucky that this was my birthright. I just wish people would take two seconds to try and understand. Or at least think about if something they said might make someone else feel like this, especially if they’re jewish. Like to ya it’s not a new thing to be torn in many directions. Even here where it’s the dominant culture, I expected her as someone who lives here and is an academic, she’d be better.

[she-writes-words]

How I Stood Up to Flash Thompson and Won Over Peter Parker

Pairing: Eventual Peter Parker x Original Female Character (Unnamed)

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Bad Writing, Badass Female

Summary: "What the hell is wrong with you, Eugene?" I yelled at him. "Thanks... for that. Really, thank you." "You don't have to thank me, Parker." Flash Thompson sucks. Why does he always tease Peter Parker? Well, today I've had enough. Suck it, Flash.

A/N: This just got away from me. Not sure how I like this one. Lemme know what you all think! 

In high school, everyone seems to belong to their own little clique. A group of people just like them. I, however, did not. You’d think after a semester here, I’d finally find myself with at least one person in my friend group. That wasn’t quite the case. I didn’t really belong, but I also wasn’t a total outcast. I was just there.

Most of my school days were spent dragging my way through classes and trying not to bite the head off of Flash. Lunches were boring and usually spent at an empty table in the corner. Well, mostly empty. MJ sat on the other side near the middle, her loser friends Peter and Ned squished in across from her.

MJ and I never really spoke to each other. I think she called me a loser once, but that was about it. We usually greet each other with a simple nod of our heads. Sometimes, as crazy as it sounds, we even smile. Shocker!

Peter Parker, on the other hand, hadn’t looked my way. Ever. At least, not that I noticed. We share almost every class, but the dude doesn’t even know I exist. Me, I find it hard not to notice him. It’s not just because he wears those stupid science pun shirts, I mean I do like some of them. It’s not because of his quirky behavior either.

No, I noticed Peter because of the genuine happiness he exudes around his friends. The way his face lights up when he and Ned are talking about their little Lego creations, or when they’re talking about something science related. Peter was handsome, and I couldn’t understand why nobody seemed to agree with that. Poor guy was constantly being teased by Flash, and his minions always joined in with laughter.

My infuriation with Flash started when he tried to cop a feel during gym class about a month after I got here. It blew up even more when I walked into class a few weeks later to see him teasing Peter Parker. Who comes up with the nickname Penis Parker? How is that even funny? I couldn’t believe people found his remarks funny. News flash, it’s not. His cringe attempt at bullying Parker was ridiculous and I had had enough.

We were all sitting at the lunch table, silence from me, the trio in a full-on heated conversation over something. I was focused on the book in my hands, untouched lunch tray to my side. As I flip the page, I hear sudden silence from the group down the table and then something hard hit it. Peeking my head up from my page, I look over and see Flash looming over Peter, a smirk on his face. He was ready to hurl insults at him again. Before he could spew garbage, I stood up, throwing my bag over my shoulder. MJ caught my eye, watching as I stepped away from the table, tray in hand.

“So sorry things didn’t work out with Liz.” I could hear the fake sympathy in his voice and it made me roll my eyes. I tossed my tray and continued to walk, but Flash’s next remark had me stopping in my tracks. “Probably for the best. I mean, you’re not really her style. People like us don’t slum it with people like you. Face it, Penis Parker, you’re going to be all alone the rest of your life with nothing but your lame friends.”

I clenched my teeth in irritation, whirling around and stalking back to the table.  Flash’s friends had gathered by now, some shocked he stooped so low, some laughing just to keep up with him. I grabbed him by the shirt, shoving him back from the table.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Eugene?” I yelled at him.

Flash stares back at me. Was he frightened? That’s possible. I pushed him back one more time making him lose his balance and catch himself by holding onto another table. I’m sure if I could see myself, I’d probably look like a mad woman. I didn’t care. Flash had stepped too far over the line too many times, and this was his lesson.

“What do you get out of tearing Peter down? Does it really make you feel good about yourself? I promise you, more people care about Parker than they do you. At least he’s a genuine guy. Who the hell cares if he’s a freaking Brainiac and most likely smarter than most of the kids here. Who cares if he only hangs out with a select group of people. You have no right to spout such hateful things to him.”

By the end of my outburst I was out of breath, eyes from all over the cafeteria were on me. I looked down at Parker, who was staring back up at me with those brown doe eyes of his. A tinge of pink stained his cheeks as he looked over to Ned, the other boy gaping at me. I smiled at him and looked back to Flash.

“Who the hell do you think you are? This isn’t any of your business,” Flash tried defending himself.

I rolled my eyes again and placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Leave my friends alone, Flash. He did nothing to you. Just leave him alone or else next time I’m going to kick your ass.” Looking down at Peter again, I tilted my head to the exit. “Come on, Parker. Let’s get out of here?” It came out more like a question as I noticed MJ staring at me, a new expression across her face.

Peter stood up quickly, grabbing his tray and his bag, and followed me away from the table. The last thing I heard as I grabbed Peter’s hand and yanking him out the door, was Flash stuttering over his words and his group leaving him behind. I chuckled to myself, glancing back at the room to see a smile on MJ’s face and Ned shocked.

The hallways were quiet as we slowly walked down them. Occasionally a few students would appear, shuffling through their lockers. None of them paid attention to us as we made our way through school. The clunking of my booted heel was all I heard as we turned another corner. Looking around I spotted my next classroom, knowing Peter’s was not too far from here.

I pulled Peter to a stop next to some lockers, the two of us standing there in silence. I was suddenly aware of the warm hand in my clammy one when it tightened its grip. When I look up at Peter through my lashes, his face is cast downwards, staring at the ground. “Pater,” I mumbled into the air, shaking his hand a bit. That was all it took to break his concentration and have him pulling away from me to lean against the lockers.

“Peter are you ok?” I looked at him with concern, our eyes finally meeting. He nodded and coughed, clearing his throat.

“Yeah, I’m good.” He stuffed his hands in the pocket of his jeans and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Thanks… for that. Really, thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Parker. Nobody deserves to be treated like that. Plus, the look on his face was priceless. Bet he’s never had someone stand up to him like that.” I dipped my head down, smiling at my feet.

“How come we’ve never talked?” I snapped my head up, my brows furrowed and eyes blinking slowly. “We’ve sat near each other for the last five months and not once have you said anything to me.” He crossed his arms, watching me like a specimen.

I shrugged. “Intimidation?” I joked. He snorted, shaking his head. Sighing, I leaned against the locker next to him, folding my arms. “Honestly, I didn’t think you noticed me. I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while but was always too nervous. I mean, MJ and I have yet to have an actual conversation, just stupid nods.”

Peter smiled at me, my breath catching in my throat. “Kind of hard not to notice you.” I glared at him a little, feeling slightly offended. “No, I don’t mean that in a bad way. Just that you’re like the only girl other than MJ to act like all this teen crap is nothing.”

“Oh, Please,” I snorted. He laughed and shook his head.

“It’s true! I think it’s kind of cool. Badass actually.” He was staring at me, a smile on his face. I rolled my eyes and turned to walk to class, but his hand grabbed mine, pulling me back to the locker. I looked at him curiously. “You said you were nervous to talk to me. Why is that?”

I laughed, shoving his shoulder. “You’re pretty cute, Parker. Not sure how you don’t realize that.” A moment of silence passes with Peter staring at my face, not blinking at all. “Did I break you?” A blush creeps across his cheeks and just before he can open his mouth to say anything, a bell rings.

The halls suddenly start filling with students, some were headed straight to class, and some were making quick last minute stops at their lockers. I jump away from Peter and walk into the sea of students. I look back to see the spot he occupied, now taken by the owner of said locker. Looking away with a frown, I continue to my chemistry class.

Before I can walk through the threshold, a hand on my shoulder pulls me back. I turn around to see Peter scratching his neck and looking past my shoulder. Slowly his eyes drift back to my face. I give him a sweet smile. “Can I help you, Parker?”

“Can I take you out sometime?” Boy didn’t even ease himself into that one.

I’m stunned, not able to find my voice. Peter Parker just asked me out. On a date. Is this real? I pinch myself, muttering a profanity in pain and rubbing the spot. Peter looks down at his feet and I can practically imagine all the thoughts about to run through his head. Before he can take my silence as me turning him down, I grab his hand, grinning.

“Yes, Peter. Absolutely. I’d love to go out with you sometime,” I answer quickly. He returns my smile, anxiety washed away.

“Ok. Ok, cool. I’ll uh- Yeah, I’ll see you after class then. Maybe I can walk you home after school?” He starts walking backward, bumping into someone and apologizing.

“I’d like that,” I giggle, brushing a few strands of hair behind my ear.

Peter turns away from me, throwing a look back at me over his shoulder, and walks down the hall in search of Ned and his classroom. Just as he’s about to turn a corner, he fists pumps the air, making me laugh again. The sound of running steps is accompanied by an arm pulling me into the room. “We’re late,” MJ states before pushing me to my table.

I sit down in my seat, completely shocked. I stood up to Flash. Peter Parker asked me out. MJ just talked to me. It was a complete one-eighty from his morning. I looked back to the corner of the room, spotting MJ at her table, smiling at me in a totally creepy way. ‘Are we friends now?’ I mouthed to her. She shrugged, but her smile never faltered. I smile back and turn to my table, reaching for my goggles. I think I just found my group, and oh what a group it is.

[itsalliepg]

Hometown - Zig x Scarlett (MC) - Part 2

SUMMARY: After an enjoyable afternoon, Scarlett (MC) takes Zig to some places from her childhood and teenage days.

PAIRING: Zig X Scarlett (MC)

RATING: Everyone

WORDS: 2143

NOTE: English isn’t my native language. I write to practice and learn, so please sorry any mistakes. I hope you like it, and if you do, I’d appreciate if you like/comment/reblog!Tag List:  @maxwells-nut @seawhite-seafair @molly7998@ziggy-o@purpledinosaur4ever@writtenbycandy @chenchen731@thatspicegirlssong @christopher-powell@zigortega4life @emerald-bijou

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The afternoon at Thomas’ house was extremely pleasant. Zig was already bonding with Therese and Louis, to Scarlett’s delight. But she decided the night would be just her and Zig. She wanted to show him the schools where she studied and the places she used to go before college. She took a shower and got dressed after he did the same and was downstairs waiting for her. When Scarlett got ready, she went to the living room, but couldn’t found her boyfriend or her parents. She heard a few voices coming from outside, and when se as peeked out the door window, she saw Zig, Louis and Therese wrapped up in conversation. Scarlett couldn’t help but smile widely. They only interrupted the chat when she opened the door.

               _Perfect timing, Scarlett! – Zig smiled and Scarlett approached them – we were talking about you.

               _Oh, dad, I hope you’re not telling him embarrassing stories about me…

               _No yet, but just wait – Louis winked at her – I’m kidding, bean. I was telling him about that spelling bee you won in fourth grade.

               _Oh, right! Zig saw that picture I keep in my room in Hartfeld – she wrapped an arm around Zig’s waist and he kissed her temple.

               _Aw, aren’t they a lovely couple, honey? – Theresa nudged her husband.

               _Absolutely – he put an arm around her shoulders – are you sure you don’t want to have dinner here?

               _Yes, dad. I want to take Zig to Golden Crispy, he has to taste the fried chicken sandwich, right? – she smiled.

               _Oh, she talked so much about this place… - Zig winked at her.

               _But she’s right, the Scarlett-life-tour couldn’t be complete without it – Therese glanced at Scarlett’s neck – oh, so that is the gift he gave you on your birthday? – she approached to see the star necklace her daughter was using – you have good taste, it’s pretty! – she smiled to Zig.

               _Isn’t it? – Scarlett looked at Zig, beaming.

               _Thanks, ma’am – Zig beamed as well – but the saleswoman gave me some tips, I’ve never bought anything like this before.

               _But it was you who chose it, right? – Louis smiled and Zig nodded – well, have fun tonight, kids, take care!

               _Don’t worry, dad, we’re just going for a ride in town – after saying goodbyes, Zig and Scarlett got in his car and she laughed – actually, there’s a place I want to take you that my parents can’t know.

               _Yeah? Don’t they know you’re a real troublemaker? – he smirked.

               _You can say so – she grinned mischievously – look, my first school! – she pointed to a building with a playground in front of it. Zig parked and they climb out of the car – first day at school, I met Emma on that swing. I’m taller than her, so she asked me to push her. Then our gaze caught Kelsey and her jumping rope skills. We decided to take a closer look, and she invited us to play with her. Later we realized we were from the same class and, well, we’re still friends today.

               _I like your friendship with them. You keep in touch even with you here, Kelsey in California and Emma in France.

               _It’s not easy, but we have technology in our favor, thank God – she took his hand – one day, I can introduce you to them by Skype. I also told them a lot about you.

               _I’d love to – he squeezed her hand – is there another school there? – he looked behind her.

               _Yes! My elementary school! Come on – hand in hand, they walked two blocks and reached another building – there’s the auditorium where I won the contest. And that window is from the science lab. It reminds me of the tarantula hunting – she giggled – in my fifth grade class, there was a boy named Trevor Miller, he was such a brat. Once, he decided to pick a tarantula from an aquarium in the lab and scare our science teacher. But shortly after he grabbed the spider, she returned to class after a little chat with our principal. He released it, and throughout the class, he couldn’t get it back, so the tarantula simply ran away. When class was over, she noticed the empty aquarium and asked what had happened. When he saw none of us would have his back, Trevor confessed his plan.

               _Wow, and what about the spider? So you said it was a hunt?

               _Yes, we decided to look for the whole school, but who found it was a seventh grade girl, in the window of her classroom. Trevor got a month’s detention and we decided to give his name to the spider – they laughed.

               _That was priceless, Scarlett – he hugged her – and what else did you enjoy doing then, besides looking for tarantulas?

               _Well, when I wasn’t at my friends’ house chatting, listening to music or watching TV shows, I was in the library or riding my bike in a park I’m planning on taking you to in the morning. But since we’re close to downtown, let’s walk around here, there some places you’d like to see – Scarlett led Zig through the streets and she spent the early evening introducing her hometown to him, and he felt a little closer to her, listening to her life stories.

               After the walk, Scarlett and Zig headed back to the car and she told him directions to her favorite diner. Soon they were sitting side by side at a table and eating.

               _So, what’s the story behind this place?

               _Me and my friends have a tradition since our freshman year. We came here before the homecoming ball. But we didn’t have dates for the Prom, so we returned here while the party was going on. So, we set up this ritual: we could come here other days of the year, but we must come before the balls and the last night before the first day of school.

               _Oh, so it really is an important place for you – Scarlett nodded while she chewed a potato chip – and I imagine you have a bunch of memories here.

               _You’re right, but my favorite was when my friend Gina got a summer job here. She was hired to wash the dishes, and after a few weeks she was promoted to waitress. We decided to congratulate her during her first day. She’s very funny, so we decided to make her life a bit difficult, like filling the cups with lots of napkins and soiling the whole plates with mustard. But suddenly, Kieran, my crush, came and sat on the counter and I immediately stopped what I was doing to pay attention to him. I noticed he was looking too much to me and I was nervous, but also excited, because he finally noticed me. Before he left, he approached me, leaned in and…said my face was yellow – Zig almost choked on the soda.

               _Let me guess…mustard? – Scarlett began to laugh and he joined her – oh, poor Scarlett…

               _I ran to the bathroom and saw a big yellow stain on my forehead. It was hot that day, and when I saw him, I wiped my sweat so fast I didn’t realized there was mustard in my hands – they laughed.

               _You’re so adorable – he kissed her quickly – but if I were him, I’d offer to help you clean up.

               _Of course you would, you flirt – she rolled her eyes, but giggled and kissed him again – but you’re also adorable. I love you.

               _I love you too – he smiled – and what kind of teenage stereotype were you?

               _Mmm…not surprising I was in the literature club, but I also played volleyball for a year. During junior year, Emma and I joined the foreign film club, so she decided to study French. And one teacher once tried to convince me to join the chemistry club because of my grades. I don’t know if I fit into some stereotype.

               _I was joking. Since you’re so talented, I knew you didn’t fit in just one path. Unlike me, the math’s club great nerd – he giggled and she tapped his nose.

               _But you’re nothing close to a typical nerd – she rested her head on his shoulder – because you’re unique.

               _Look who’s talking – they giggled and kept talking about their high school years. When they got back to the car, she grinned devilish again.

               _Continue forward and then take the first left. Go for more four blocks. And we’ll get to that secret place.

               _Now I’m curious – he followed her directions and then he parked a little confused – this is…your high school?

               _Yes – she got out of the car – come here – she approached the railing and looked sideways – oh, it’s still here – she lifted the railing and crouched a little to get to the other side – we used to do that often too – Zig chuckled and did the same as Scarlett.

               _Okay, and why would you want to break into your school in the middle of the night?

               _Because of that – she pointed to an Olympic-size pool, and she took his hand to guide him there – my parents never imagined we did it.

               _The perfect and beloved Scarlett Thomas also has secrets to hide, huh? – he arched an eyebrow.

               _Come on, Zig. You know my naughty side better than anyone else – she unzipped her dress and let the fabric fall down to the floor, then cautiously descended the stairs – aren’t you going to join me?

               _Sure – he took off his shirt and jeans and met her in the water. He slowly approached her, a grin on her face, and closed the distance in a gentle kiss – so, are you the evil mastermind behind it?

               _No. Who discovered this hole in the railing was a bunch of seniors, when I was a sophomore I guess? But at that time the news ran easily, I don’t know how that didn’t reach the principal’s ears!

               _Or maybe the principal knew, but it was the person behind the hole in the railing – he winked and they laughed.

               _It’s a good theory – after a lingering kiss she pulled back, floating, but he pursued her, his arms wrapping around her tightly.

               _Inhale deep – she obliged and he dove in, taking her with him, and then caught her mouth again. Under the water, they focused only on that long, slow kiss. After a while, they returned to recover air.

               _Okay, this kind of kiss we didn’t try before, and was really great.

               _It was. Don’t get me wrong, I love your parents, but I was crazy to get you alone.

               _I know, and I wanted too. That’s why I wanted to bring you here, to get some privacy – she bit his lower lip.

               _Yeah? – under the water, he ran his hands over her thighs around his waist – and what do you have in mind now?

               _Let me show you – she kissed him again, as he led them forward, keeping her pinned against the wall. The intensity of the kisses increased – I never did it here with anyone before.

               _Yeah? I’m honored – she kissed his neck and he moved his hands to unclasp her bra.

               _WHO IS THERE? – suddenly, a strong light beside them made them freeze.

               _Shit! – Scarlett swam quickly to the stairs and Zig followed her – this is new – they grabbed their clothes and ran to the hole they had entered earlier.

               _YOU TWO ARE INVADING A SCHOOL, I’LL CALL THE POLICE! – a tall man in a security uniform was chasing them as they returned to the car. Still wet and undressed, Zig tried to start the car.

               _Come on, come on! – he glanced to the man, approaching them with the flashlight – damn, it never happened before! – suddenly the car started and Zig accelerated as fast as he could and turned onto the next street he found.

               _Do you think he saw the license plate? – Scarlett was looking back.

               _No, I got off really fast, unless he has a real quick eye – they remained in silence while he drove for a few minutes. In a moment, he stopped. Still panting, they glanced to each other and burst out laughing – I don’t think this thrilled ride was part of the itinerary.

               _Definitely not. But when I used to come here, they had no guards. Maybe they found out what ninety per cent of the students do – she squeezed his hand – sorry for that, Zig. I really had no idea.

               _Hey, it was fun! Nothing like an electrifying escape to liven up the ride – he kissed her hand – but I drove so much I don’t even know if we left the city. Do you recognize it here?

               _Oh, sure! – she looked out outside, still behind the window – it’s an old quarter, close to the city hall, the theater and the biggest hotel in city.

               _Cool. I have a towel in the glove compartment. We can dry ourselves and go for a walk.

Thanks for reading!

Let me know if you want to be tagged in future fanfics!

[wonhoetryme]

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! 

[loriannelawless]

cute lunch period | foxri

fox makes lunch for them. they eat during their lunch period

Fox always looked forward to his lunch periods. It happened to fall on Lori's free period which meant he could have a date with her in the middle of the school day. He personally thought it made their relationship stronger. How many other couples could wake up together, drive to work together, share lunch, and then go home at the end of the day together? He had to reckon not too many. He'd prepared lunch for them: cooked rice, honey balsamic chicken with roasted vegetables, a section of mixed fruit and then mixed nuts and dark chocolate. He liked making little bento boxes for the two of them. He carried his drink and the lunch box he kept the food in and made his way to her classroom. When he saw her sitting at her desk he crept in the room slowly until he was behind her and wrapped an arm around her to press a kiss to her cheek. "Grading papers?" he asked playfully.

Lori glanced at the clock. She only had about five minutes before Fox would be in with their lunch, and she definitely didn't have enough time to finish the labs before he got there. She swore quietly under her breath, focusing on the papers in front of her. She didn't like being distracted when she was with him. It kind of ruined it. She grinned when she felt his arm around her, leaning a bit closer to him. "Labs, but yeah," she said with a smile. "How's your day going so far?" she asked, pushing the papers aside and making room for him to sit with her.

Fox let his head rest on her shoulder as he looked down at the papers in front of her. "Oh yeah? Sounds titillating," he grinned. He stayed in place for another moment, hugging her close against his body before reluctantly letting go. "It's going pretty well. I've got some kids really wanting to write political think pieces for the school paper. It's impressive. And the seniors just started Pride and Prejudice. I promised if they did well enough with the material I'd let them watch the movie with zombies instead of the Keira Knightley one or the Hugh Grant one," he laughed. He took a seat and took out their cute boxes from the lunch box and then took out her pineapple mango juice. "How are your students?"

Lori let out a small laugh and nodded. “Oh yeah. The most interesting it could be,” she said playfully. She leaned into him, turning her head back to kiss his cheek. She nodded along as he talked about his day. “Are political pieces allowed?” she asked curiously. She laughed and shook her head. “Bribing them with zombies. That’s hilarious,” she said with a smile. “Thank you,” she said as he took out their lunches, smiling to herself as she noticed the juice. “They’re good. My AP students have been asking some really insightful questions. I love it, but I don’t always have all the answers,” she admitted.

Fox grinned at her. He loved that he could see her during the work day like this. He loved seeing her do what she was passionate about even if he knew this wasn't the job she'd wanted. "Sure, as far as I'm concerned. I'm not going to censor them. Unless they're factually incorrect. I'll probably end up in a meeting with the principal, though," he admitted with a casual shrug. "Kids love the zombies," he winked. He popped open the lid to his box and nudged her slightly. "You? Not having all the answers? Impossible." She was definitely the smartest person he knew. "How do you deal with that?" he wondered. "If I don't have an answer I usually pull the whole, 'Let's look it up together!' card. They see right through it, though."

Lori thought that made sense. She just thought it might cause a stir. But if he was prepared to handle it, she wasn’t gonna say anything. “That’s probably a good call,” she said honestly. She laughed a bit and nodded. “Kids do love zombies. And movies,” she added. She opened the lunch box after he did. “Wow, fancy,” she winked at him. “Should I warm it up or will it be good cold?” she asked him curiously. She laughed a little and rolled her eyes. “Biology is a very vast subject. There’s too much for me to have learned all at once,” she said with a shrug. She felt like she knew a lot though. “I tell them I don’t know but I’ll look into it and get back to them,” she said honestly. “You sound like a fun teacher. I bet if I’d had you I wouldn’t have studied biology,” she teased.

Fox nodded slightly. He wasn't too worried. He'd just have to make sure they didn't go too controversial. He'd guide them but he'd let them write their pieces. "Kids love anything that gets them out of doing actual work for a class period," he chuckled. "Only the best for my lady," he teased. "It's pretty good cold, actually, though better warmed up. I probably won't heat mine up, though." He took a bite of his and winked at her. That made sense, he thought. He felt like science was always changing anyway. "Well, fair enough. I bet students love stumping you. Might make you less intimidating," he teased. He let out a laugh and shook his head. "It's just nice to make learning fun. Plus, I love English. I bet you still would have studied biology. If I'd had you as a teacher I probably would have failed your class just so I could take it again."

Lori laughed and nodded. That was true. It wasn’t that long ago that they were students and it was true for them, too. “That’s very true,” she laughed. She grinned. “You’re cute,” she said honestly. She nodded a bit. “I’ll eat it cold then,” she decided, getting a bite. “Mm, this is amazing,” she said. She made a face at him and laughed. “I’m not anymore intimidating than anyone else!” she exclaimed. She nodded. She did her best, especially with the freshmen. “Yeah, it really is. Nah, I would’ve found a passion in the class if you were my teacher,” she said with a wink. She laughed harder, shoving him gently. “Shut up you would not,” she teased. She sat up a little when she heard a knock on her door and her student came in. “Hi Miss. Lawless, Mr. Dawson, sorry to interrupt. I realized the last page from my lab was stuck in my binder. I just wanted to her it turned in,” she said with a sly smile, handing her the paper. “Thanks for bringing it in so promptly. I’ll put it with the rest of your papers,” Lori smiled.

Fox let out a laugh at that. "I know," he teased. He watched her try a bite of the food and smiled when she liked it. "It's a new recipe. I thought you might enjoy it," he admitted. He gave her a look as he took a sip of his sparkling water. "Have you looked in a mirror lately? Add that to how intelligent you are and you're clearly the sexiest woman on the planet," he told her simply. He wasn't so sure about that. "Maybe but you love biology. English might have been your second favorite, though." He gave her a lopsided grin. "I absolutely would have. And asked for extra tutoring on the side," he teased her. He looked over as a student came in and grinned at the girl. "You never bring your late work to my class during free periods. See, Lor? You're clearly the more superior teacher."

Lori nodded with a small smile. “You know me well,” she said before taking another bite. She took a small sip of her drink, giving him a perplexed look. “You’re just saying that because you wanna get laid tonight,” she teased. She shrugged as she took another bite. “I do really like biology,” she said honestly. “Second favorite is good too though,” she said playfully. She nudged his leg under the table. “You’re ridiculous,” she laughed. “I much prefer is both being teachers,” she added. She couldn’t kiss him otherwise. The student snickered quietly when he called her Lor. “She’s stricter than you,” she said with a shrug. “Alright, back to lunch now,” Lori said with a gentle smile. “I’m not superior,” she said, laughing a little as the girl left. “You’re such a kissass.”

Fox chuckled quietly. "I would never try to butter you up just to get laid," he grinned. He took a few bites of his food and followed it up with a sip of his drink. "You'd get bored of English I think. I'll settle for it being your second favorite in this alternate universe but only because I'd be your favorite teacher. Though, you're right. Us both being adults is pretty important to our relationship," he laughed. He shook his head a bit. "I guess I'll have to be more strict. Thanks for the tip. I'll see you in class tomorrow with your homework," he joked to the student. He watched her leave before laughing at Lori. "Can't I compliment my beautiful girlfriend? I bring you lunch and I'm not allowed to say nice things to you?" he teased.

Lori laughed and rolled her eyes. “I don’t believe you for a second. But your buttering might be working,” she teased. She raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you calling English boring?” She laughed. “Yeah, kind of an important part,” she said playfully. She took another bite of chicken before eating some chocolate. “Of course you can. But you’re still a kissass and I’m not the superior teacher!” she laughed. “I bet you anything she comes in tomorrow with everything ready to turn in on time,” she laughed a little. “Did I tell you I got Evie set up with a job here in the city?”

Fox shot her a playful wink. "Then I must be doing something right. It's too bad we have so many hours left of the work day," he joked. He shook his head. "Absolutely not. It's the best subject of all in my opinion. Biology is in your opinion. Tell me you wouldn't get tired of teaching old books to students when you could be discovering something new and exciting in your field? It's just a matter of preference," he shrugged. He grinned at her before kissing her cheek. "Okay, we're both the best teachers in the school, how's that sound?" he said playfully. "She'd better. I might have to deduct points if she doesn't." He thought for a moment, taking a piece of fruit. "Evie, your friend from high school? No, I don't think you did."

Lori smirked a little and laughed. "I know. What a chore. At least it's Friday," she said honestly, still smiling at him. She made a face and a noise to match it. "I would hate teaching old books all day. But I'm not exactly discovering something new and exciting doing this job, either," she said, only a touch of bitterness in her tone. She pretended to think for a moment before she nodded. "I think I can agree to that. Though I hear the AP Spanish teacher is a blast," she teased. She laughed and picked up some fruit. She nodded a bit, leaning back a little. "Yeah, that one. The one who dated Foster. I haven't told him yet, which I probably should have," she admitted.

Fox lifted his drink in a sort of cheers to that. "I need a weekend," he admitted with a smile. Her reaction had him chuckling to himself. "They're good books," he defended. "But you would hate it." He reached out to rub her arm gently and gave her a smile. "Yeah but we both know you will be some day soon," he promised. He rolled his eyes playfully at her. "Fine, we can be the second best teachers after the AP Spanish," he joked. He mulled over that for a moment, eating some nuts. "I mean, yeah. I think he'd appreciate knowing," he admitted. "Do I get to meet her at some point?"

Lori did the same, smiling fondly. He made her very happy. "Amen to that," she teased. "I mean, I'm not denying that. I wouldn't be against reading a book, or even talking about it. But all the analysis and the essays, and oh my god, you have to read all the essays that every single kid reads. You like it right now, but by the fifth year of reading the same essays, what are you gonna do?" she asked seriously. That felt like it'd get boring. So would grading biology, though. She didn't think she'd be here in five years, though. Or she hoped, anyway. "Right, soon," she said with a small sigh, taking a drink. "Second best is pretty good," she grinned. She knew he deserved to know. And she was going to tell him. It wasn't like he'd be mad, it'd just, maybe be a little weird. But it wasn't like they had an ugly break up or anything. "Yeah, of course. I was thinking maybe we can meet her at the bar Saturday? And maybe if we tell Foster tonight, he can come too."

Fox considered that. He didn't think it would bother him all that much. He liked seeing how his students interpreted the works they were reading. "I mean, it's not like I'm required to teach the exact same books every single year," he told her. "I like what I do but I always wanted to be a teacher. It wasn't your first choice, though, and that's okay." He rubbed her arm again before turning back to his food. He really thought she'd be moving up in her field before she knew it. "I have faith in you," he promised. He thought about the work he had to do and the papers he wanted to grade but decided he could go out on Saturday. "Sure, that sounds like a good plan. Do you think everything will work out well?" he wondered.

Lori figured that was fair, but she was also pretty sure he had a limited number of books he could pick from. "That's fair," she said with a shrug. She thought it was so interesting that he'd always wanted to be a teacher. She couldn't imagine. But it was noble of him and all. "I'm glad you like it," she said with a genuine smile. "Well someone should," she said playfully. She wasn't sure he actually liked the plan, but he didn't have to go, and if he did they didn't have to stay out late. "I hope so. Otherwise it'll be really weird."

Fox did really like teaching. It was his passion. He loved seeing students get interested in the great works that had fascinated him in high school. He really felt like English was an important subject in figuring out who you were as a person. He liked being able to help them discover that. "I'll always have faith in you, Lor," he promised her. He let out a quiet chuckle. "Yeah, it will be pretty weird," he agreed. "They're adults, though. I'm sure it'll be fine. If not, we divide and conquer."

Lori knew that was true, but she still wasn't sure she did. "Yeah, you're right. They're adults. Surely they won't let a breakup from high school stop them from being friends if they could be friends, right?" she asked. Unless they just, didn't wanna be friends. She hoped that wouldn't happen. "I'm sure we can figure something out," she added.

Fox shrugged slightly. He couldn't imagine it but then again, he'd never dated anyone in high school. He hadn't even had many friends; he could count them on one hand. "I don't harbor any ill feelings to people from high school. It was so long ago. I can't imagine not wanting to at least catch up with someone that was part of my life at that time," he told her. Then again, he didn't know Evie. "And I'm sure Foster won't be an ass or anything."

Lori nodded in agreement. She felt that way, too. It wasn't like anything bad happened between them, anyway, and it was seven years ago. So much had happened since then. "Me neither. It was a long time ago. I'm just glad that that part of my life is over with," she admitted with a laugh. "Nah, I can't imagine he would," she agreed. She took the last bite of her chicken as the bell rang. "Ah, back to work. I'll miss you," she smiled.

Fox was glad too. He hadn't hated high school. If he had, he doubted he would have chosen to teach it. He just hadn't loved it. It had been more of a transition period in his life. "It feels like a different lifetime," he admitted. "I'm sure it'll all work out." He really hoped it did, for her sake. He groaned when the bell rang and closed up his box. "I need to start remembering to set a timer so I can beat the class back to the room," he admitted. He leaned in and pressed a light kiss to her lips. "I'll see you after school, Miss Lawless."

Lori agreed with that too. She'd done a lot of growing up during college. She felt like a different person than who she was back in high school sometimes. "I'm sure," she said. A small smile spread on her lips. "I'm sure you will. They like to take their time, anyway," she said with a grin. She leaned in, kissing him back, a smile on her lips when he pulled away. "I'll see you after school, Mr. Dawson," she said playfully as he left.

[sincerely-us-imagines]

it’s all about the money, honey (Connor Murphy x Reader)

connor paying you to be his fake girlfriend! based on the anon i got last night!

I didn’t really proof this so let me know if i’ve made any mistakes!

warnings: swearing and a little angst. i think that’s it?

The final bell rang and you breathed a sigh of relief as you stuffed your books into your backpack and slung it over your shoulder. It was finally Friday, and you had nothing to do over the weekend. You were completely free. Walking out of the classroom, you made a list of all the Netflix shows you needed to get caught up on. You still hadn’t finished Madmen, but the new season of Riverdale just came out and, even though it was kinda trashy and way over dramatic, you still enjoyed sitting down and binge watching it with a tub of Ben and Jerry’s. But there was also that movie you heard someone else talk about in class, Alex Strangelove. It sounded like something you might like. But The Toys That Made Us also just released new episodes, and that’s a pretty neat show. And funny, too, for it to be a documentary series. Ooh, you had something new on your list too, though--

“Y/n!” you were pulled out of your thoughts by someone’s hand on your shoulder, yanking you off to the side, out of the sea of students all heading towards the exits. You looked up to see a panting and disgruntled Connor Murphy.

“What the hell, I’ve been calling your name.”

“Didn’t hear you.” you shrugged his hand off. You’d tolerate him touching you around his family, sure, but you didn’t want it happening when it wasn’t necessary.

“I need you to come over tonight.”

“No.” you said simply.

“What?”

“I said no. I’m busy.”

“Busy with what? Holing up in your room and watching TV by yourself?”

“None of your business.” you hoped he couldn’t tell he hit the nail right on the head.

“Just, please, Y/n.”

“Why? What’s so important that you need me over there so bad?”

“My grandmother’s coming into town tonight. Larry told her I had a girlfriend and now she wants to meet you.”

You barked out a laugh.

“It’s one thing for me to lie to your parents and Zoe, but your grandmother? That’s not happening.” You turned to walk away when he something that caught your ear.

“I’ll pay you double.”

You stopped in your tracks and turned around to look at him. He looked desperate.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. You could really use the money...

“Fine.” He visibly relaxed at your words.

“Thank you. Now can we go? I’d rather just get this over with.”

You followed Connor out to the senior parking lot and climbed into his car, tossing your bag into the backseat and sighing heavily as you buckled up. He ignored you, of course.

As Connor pulled out onto the road you let your head fall against the window and thought about how you even got into this position in the first place.

You and Connor were never really friends. You’d known him since middle school, but never really talked to him. He was always a little cold towards you. Maybe it was because you were friends with Jared, who was, admittedly, an asshole to Connor. Or maybe that was just Connor��s attitude towards everyone.

The two of you sat beside each other in science, and would occasionally have to work on assignments together. Usually he would do his half quietly, and you would do yours, and when your were both done you’d copy the answers from each other. An easy system. One day, a few months ago, you were filling out a worksheet while Connor sat back, arms crossed, doing absolutely nothing.

“Okay, what the hell is your problem?” you’d asked him eventually, putting your pencil down.

“Why do you care?” he snapped.

“Because you’re my lab partner and you’re not doing jack shit. This is due at the end of class and I can’t afford to fail this assignment.”

“Of course.” he’d scoffed, “You’re only worried about yourself.”

You’d clenched your jaw in frustration. Whatever he was going through really wasn’t your problem, and you didn’t really give a shit. But if you could help him with whatever it was, maybe he’d get off his ass and do his part of the assignment.

“Just…” you took a deep breath, composing yourself. “Maybe I can help.”

He laughed humorlessly at that.

“You can’t. Unless you can get my parents off my ass about not being a “normal kid”. They’re constantly nagging me, asking why I’m not hanging out with friends, why I don’t join a club or try sports, why I don’t have a girlfriend. Fuck, at this point I’d pay someone just to pretend.”

“How much?” you joked.

“Sixty bucks per date.” he deadpanned.

“Are you kidding or…?”

He shrugged, picking at his nail polish. His face was tinted pink. Holy shit, he was being serious.

“I’ll do it.”

“What?” he asked, looking over at you incredulously.

“I’ll do it. I’ll be your fake girlfriend or whatever.”

“Oh.” he cleared his throat. “Uh, thanks?”

“Don’t thank me. You’re paying me for it; it’s not like I’m doing you a favor or something.”

“Right, yeah, uh…” he ran a hand anxiously through his hair.

“Just, uh, gimme your phone real quick.”

He obliged and you added your number to his (depressingly short) contact list.

“Text me or something and we can work out the details, yeah?”

“Yeah.” he nodded, not looking at you.

He started on his half of the assignment. You worked in mutual, awkward silence.

The page was finished in time and once the bell rang he left the room without a word.

Later that night you got a text, briefing you with a made up backstory and a time and date to have dinner with his family. And thus began your “relationship”.

Connor pulled up to the Murphy household to find his usual parking spot occupied by a gold Lincoln Town Car. He sighed and opted to park in the street.

“She’s already here.”

You could practically smell the anxiety on him and, honestly, you felt a little bad for him.

You got out of the car and followed the stone walkway up to the front porch.

Connor grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers through his right before opening the front door.

The sound of chatter died down a bit as you walked in. Connor took a deep breath before leading you into the dining room. Larry and Cynthia sat at the table, along with Connor’s grandmother, an older woman with round cheeks and big curly hair.

“Hi Nana.” Connor raises his hand to her and she scoffs, standing up and holding her arms out in front of her.

“Connor Lawrence Murphy, get over here and give your Nana a hug!”

You snort at the mention of his middle name and he shoots you a glare before releasing your hand and walking over to his grandmother.

She squeezed him tight, her head only reaching his chest while the top of her hair brushed under his chin.

“You’ve gotten so tall, motek! And your hair hair is so long!”

Connor flushed pink as his grandmother reached up to stroke his hair.

“Going to have to take him for a cut soon.” Larry commented, and you could tell Connor was biting his tongue.

“I think it’s very handsome, Larry. He looks so much like your father now.” She cupped Connor’s cheek and smiled sadly. It sent a pang through your chest to see the way he looked away, the sadness that flickered in his eyes at the mention of his grandfather. He’d never talked about him to you before.

But then again, why would he? You weren’t really his girlfriend. Hell, you weren’t even his friend. You were just someone he paid to keep his parents off his back. If it weren’t for your little deal he’d want nothing to do with you.

For the first time since you started this whole thing, you felt a little bad.

“You must be Y/n!” his grandmother said suddenly, pulling away and hurrying around the table. She pressed a big kiss against your cheek and you were a bit taken aback.

“I’ve heard so much about you!” she mused, pushing your hair away from your face and smiling at you. Your cheeks burned at the attention.

“You’ve done so well, Connor! She’s beautiful!”

“Yeah, uh, she is.” he mumbled, taking a seat at the table and looking anywhere that wasn’t at you.

The front door opened again as Zoe came inside, guitar in tow. Connor’s grandmother, much to your relief, released you in favor of showering Zoe in kisses and compliments.

You took your usual seat beside Connor and sat quietly, listening to Connor’s family get caught up. Connor, you noticed, stayed silent as well, looking incredibly uncomfortable. You reached over and grabbed his hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze. Only because you were acting, though. Just in case Larry or Connor’s grandmother looked over, or if Cynthia came out of the kitchen where she was cooking something that, surprisingly, smelled like real food. It was all just for show, really, it was.

“So Connor,” his grandmother said, swallowing her mouthful of pasta, “how long have you been dating Y/n?” she gestured towards you with her fork.

“About three months.” he told her. He’d decided your “anniversary” should be three weeks before the night you first met the Murphy’s. Long enough that it would make sense for you to meet them, but not too long that it would be weird that he’d never talked about you to them.

“And how did you two meet?”

“Well, we’ve gone to school together since 6th grade, but we really started talking when we got paired together on a project several months ago. It all kind of took off from there.” he told her the well rehearsed story. He was lying through his teeth to his grandmother quite convincingly. It made you wonder what else he was keeping from his family.

Not that it was any of your business.

“Does he treat you well, chamudi?” she asked you. You made a mental note to google what that meant when you got home.

“Oh yes, of course he does! He’s the sweetest guy I’ve ever met, really.” You leaned your head lovingly against his shoulder, trying to really sell the routine.

“You know, Connor,” she told him, taking a sip of water. “Your grandfather and I were married at eighteen, right after high school.” she raised her eyebrows at him.

Zoe snorted at the comment. Connor looked down at his plate.

“That’s because he was joining the military, Mom.” Larry told her, “And I don’t think they’re that serious right now.” for once you were thankful that Larry opened his mouth.

She only hummed at him and took another sip of water. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air a solid ten seconds before Cynthia cut in.

“Well, speaking of marriage, Are you coming back in town for the wedding next month?”

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t miss my granddaughter’s wedding for the world. It might be the only chance I get to see one of my grandchildren marry before I die.” Connor and Zoe both rolled their eyes.

“Will you be coming, dear?” His grandmother asked. All eyes were on you. You swallowed hard.

“Well, I- uh, I actually hadn’t heard anything about this. I guess Connor just forgot to tell me.” you offered a forced smile.

“I guess I did.” You could see Connor’s jaw muscles were tensed.

“Well, this is your invitation now.” His grandmother smiled.

Connor was staring at you, willing you with his eyes to decline.

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude on family matters--”

“Nonsense!” Cynthia said, reaching across the table and laying her hand over yours, smiling sweetly. “You are family, sweetie. And I’m sure all the cousins would love to meet you.”

You looked between Cynthia and Connor, and then Connor and his grandmother. Seeing no other option you smiled and nodded your head.

“That, um- That sounds wonderful. I’d love to go.”

Everyone smiled at you- everyone except Connor- and dinner continued from there without a hitch.

Connor was silent as he drove you home.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” you told him. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel but said nothing. “I didn’t know what else to say. Everyone was looking at me and I just…”

You sighed, feeling kind of guilty.

“You don’t have to pay me for it.” still nothing.

“I don’t know why you’re acting like this, Connor. The whole thing was your idea in the first place.”

“I didn’t have any other option.” he snapped. “It was either pay you to be my fake girlfriend or get shit from my parents forever. If I had any choice I wouldn’t be spending my time with you.”

You knew that was true when you agreed to this. That didn’t mean it hurt any less.

Connor pulled up to your house, hitting the breaks a little too hard. You grabbed your bag and he thrust a wad of bills into your hand wordlessly. Your eyes stung as you slammed the car door as hard as you could behind you, causing a dog somewhere in your neighborhood to start barking his head off. Connor sped off before you were even off the sidewalk.

[3rdgymbros]

Immortals

( PROMPT: In order to blend in with people and gain more knowledge I keep attending different schools under different names and you sit next to me in a lecture. You can hear me muttering that the teacher is wrong and when you ask how I can be so sure, and on reflex, I tell you that I was there oh no )

A/N: Still hoping that I’ll meet Tom Holland when I go off to London. My brother’s in London, and I can’t wait to see his grumpy face!! If anyone has any recommendations on where to go/what to eat, please come scream at me in my inbox!!

Taglist (permanent): @mainspidey | @x-wing-starwriter |@tomsleftbrow | @tryn25|@tanglefire | @midnight-memorial | @tiny-friggin-human |@tacklemyackles| @fangeekkk |@beamagtuto | @captainaudreystark | @hellosuperewczi | @dasia-aye

Another new identity, another new school. You’ve lost track of how many there have been over the years. Two hundred? A thousand? Always a large city, a large school, always the same routine. Places where new transfer students hardly draw anyone’s attention. 

Sometimes you wonder what you would have become if you’d stayed on the island with the Mistress – nothing but a lifetime of seducing men and practicing your magic. 

But you would have grown shallow and conceited like your sisters. You wouldn’t have been contented, spending your life stuck on the same small island. Your leaving was probably for the best.

Your new school – Midtown School of Science and Technology – is three miles away from your house. It’s the first time you’re attending a school specializing in such technical subjects, and though you’ve had a thousand years to practice finding tangents and balancing chemical equations, you’re still nervous about how you’ll fare amongst the brightest of mortals.

You have to take the subway to Midtown School. It’s larger than most of the others you’ve attended and is impressive looking, a stately red-bricked building four storeys high, surrounded by lush green lawns and trees.

You walk towards the building. As is the case with most high schools, there are crowds of kids hanging around outside. They’re divided into their cliques, the jocks and the cheerleaders, the band kids carrying instruments, the brains in their glasses with their textbooks and smartphones, the stoners off to one side, oblivious to everyone else. You notice a boy taking pictures, focusing on the scenery and sky, rather than the people around him.

You shake your head, amazed. You’ll never get over how innovative humans are. You can remember the cameras of old, how bulky and heavy they once were, but humans had improved on an already impressive invention, turning their cameras into sleek and light objects that could be put in a small pouch and carried around all day.

The photographer’s shockingly beautiful, with a mess of chocolate brown hair that frames a breath-taking face. He has ivory skin, cheeks sprinkled with the faintest smattering of freckles, and soft and warm mocha coloured eyes. He looks up, sees you, and smiles hesitantly.

You’ve never really felt anything for the mortal men that Mistress had enchanted, but you’ve never seen a boy so good-looking, much less been in the same school as one, and you’ve definitely never had one smile at you, as if he and you are friends. You’re immediately nervous, and start blushing.

“Peter! Hey man!”

A rotund giant of a boy, dressed in a black NASA T-shirt, crisp black jeans and a red hoodie, comes running right at the photographer. They’re obviously friends, and now, you stupidly realise, this boy is whom the photographer – Peter – had to be smiling at.

You could kick yourself.

Nice one, (Y/n). Scowling, you scrub at your face with the back of your hand, you march into school.

You don’t notice that Peter’s busy staring at your back, his cheeks flushed and mouth agape.

Your first period class is History with Mrs. Roberts, whom the principal describes as being “a fine teacher, one of our best, who’s won numerous awards”. You smile, nod politely. You’ve been through this before.

The principal walks you to class, holds open the door and you walk through. The classroom is perfectly square, filled with twenty-five people, give or take, sitting at rectangular desks about the size of kitchen tables, three students to each. Peter is there, sitting next to his friend, who’s vaguely Asian looking, with fair skin and almond shaped eyes. He’s scribbling madly in his notebook, but stops when you walk in, his eyes wide, the first hint of a blush blooming on his cheeks. His friend claps a hand over his mouth, snickering quietly, and Peter jabs him in the ribs in retaliation, his eyes never leaving you.

The blood rushes to your cheeks again. Great. You tear your eyes away from them, and focus on Mrs. Roberts. All eyes are on you. A whole new group of people that you’ll yet again try to keep at a distance. It’s always a fine line, having just enough interaction with them to remain mysterious without becoming strange and thus sticking out.

Your teacher is somewhere around sixty, wearing a pink wool sweater and red plastic glasses attached to a chain around her neck. She smiles widely, her hair greying and curly. The principal closes the door behind him as he leaves, and you grimace slightly.

Too late to escape.

“And what is your name?” She asks.

In your unsettled mood, you almost say “Jessica Jones”, your former alias, but manage to catch yourself. You take a deep breath and say, “(F/n) (L/n).”

“Great! And where are you from, (Y/n)?”

It’s been almost a century since you’ve heard your name spoken. You have to close your eyes to hide the sudden swell of emotions.

“Ae —,” You begin, but then catch yourself again before the word fully forms. “Singapore.”

“Class, let’s give her a warm welcome.”

Everybody claps. Mrs. Roberts motions for you to sit in the open seat in next to Peter Parker and Ned Leeds. She asks them to raise their hands, and you’re not sure if you should feel happy or embarrassed that you’ve just scored a seat next to the cute boy and his friend. Mrs. Roberts turns around to go to her desk and you walk down the aisle, and dump your bag in the empty seat, very pointedly not looking at Peter or Ned.

After a warning to be quiet, Mrs. Roberts leaves the class, and as soon as she does, Ned Leeds leans over to talk to you, completely disregarding Peter, who looks incredibly unhappy to be caught in the middle.

“Ned,” Peter says, giving Ned a warning glance before his friend can speak, “Don’t. Please.”

“(Y/n)? What was it like at your old school?”

Your gracious smile feels slightly frozen in place; you don’t like the tone in Ned’s voice, but you’ll humour him anyway. “It was . . . Hot. And humid. But the food was good. You haven’t lived till you’ve tried Singaporean food.”

That garners a laugh out of both Peter and Ned. Peter looks positively angelic as his laugh rings out, his face a bright halo against his shock of brown hair.

“What about the boys?” Ned asks all-too innocently, looking as though butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “Were they cute? Do you have a boyfriend?”

Peter muffles a groan with his hands.

“Um. Um?” You blink once. Twice. You knew the tone in his voice could only be nothing good. “Well, some of them were cute, I guess? But I’ve never dated anyone before.”

What worse pain could there be, to have to watch as your loved ones wither away to ash, while you alone remain perfect and unchanging?

It’s better to be alone.

Everyone always leaves you in the end.

“You’re joking.”

Peter sighs. “Ned –”

“No, I’m being serious!” You’re unsure why Ned’s so happy about your lack of a love life – or why he’s frantically jabbing a quietly-protesting Peter right in his ribs – but you smile and shake your head anyway. “I’ve been single all my life.”

“Ned.”

“Alright, alright.”

Peter seems like he’s trying to kill Ned with the force of his glare. But Ned laughs it off and holds his hands up in surrender.

“Sorry about Ned,” Peter tells you quietly. “He can be a little . . .”

“It’s fine,” You manage, still slightly stunned to be talking to him. “Really.”

Mrs. Roberts backs into the room then – what superb timing the woman has – pulling a tall metal frame on wheels that holds a sleek, modern-looking DVD player. A movie day – the lift in the class atmosphere is almost tangible. She shoves the tape into the slot and walks to the wall to turn off the lights.

The opening credits begin, lighting the room by a token amount.

Ironically, it’s a movie about Singapore. The narrator’s going on about the legend of Sang Nila Utama, a brave and handsome prince, who’d embarked on a daring sea journey to discover new islands. You could cry at how warped their description of him is. As it is, you allow yourself a disdainful snort.

“Handsome my ass,” You mutter under your breath. “Brave? Ha! They clearly did not have to spend a week at his palace.”

“It sound like you personally knew him, (Y/n).” Peter says quietly, a warm note of amusement threaded through his voice. “But he lived over one thousand years ago –”

“One thousand five-hundred and thirty three years ago, and let me tell you, he was worse than Joffrey Lannister.”

Peter laughs nervously. “(Y/n), you’re kind of freaking me out here –”

“Did you know that that little prick absolutely refused to throw his crown overboard? I told him those waters were scared, and that Poseidon would not like it if we crossed, but nooo, he just had to have his way! And I had to save the boat from capsizing, and do you know what he did?” You’re on a roll, and ranting angrily now, all your pent-up frustrations pouring out of you after so long of holding them back. “He left me on some deserted island, and if I hadn’t managed to get back with my spell, I could have died! So forgive me for not liking him!”

Peter’s staring blankly at you. His eyes are wide and shiny with surprise. You try not to think about the fact that you’ve just screwed up royally – if he didn’t think you were weird before, he definitely does now. You’re disappointed, and then you feel angry at yourself for feeling this way.

Getting attached won’t do anyone any good.

“Uh. I mean. That was a play.” Your excuse sounds lame, even to your ears. “I was in this play, about the history of Singapore and I played the part of this disgruntled sorceress, and I think some of her must have rubbed off on me. Yeah. That’s it.”

Amazingly, he buys that pathetic excuse. Peter cracks up laughing, and although your laughter is tinged slightly with hysteria, you’re laughing right along with him. If you’d been drinking, water would have shot out of your nostrils. Ned, and everyone else, is staring at the two of you, as though, and that only makes you laugh harder.

The two of you are sent out of class for being disruptive – not a great start to your school year – but you could hardly care less. It’s the first time in a long time that you’ve laughed so hard, or so brightly, and although there’s a voice whispering that you’re falling too deep, too fast, you push that aside.

You can deal with that later.

For now, you’ll pretend that you’re a normal girl.

[ayaholliday-blog]

first middle and last name?

Aya Vanessa Holliday

age

25

favorite item of clothing

I like my sweaters? My mom knitted me one last Christmas so I guess that one has to be my favorite.  

drink you’d order at a bar?

I don’t actually go out to bars all that often? Mostly I drink champagne if I drink outside of the house... but that’s probably not really something you order at most bars. Wine, I guess?

what is your zodiac sign? 

Cancer

best physical attribute/worst physical attribute

I guess my hair? I get compliments on that sometimes. 

My nails are a mess. I really should  take better care of them.

favorite room in your house

I like spare bedroom. It’s not as large or anything as the other rooms, but it’s quiet and the window looks out over a patch of trees and sometimes deer even wander into the garden. It feels like looking into a fairy tale.

what was your last dream about? 

I was being chased by a giant horde of cats while I ran all around trying to find my ball of yarn to keep them at bay. I don’t know what it means.

biggest goal

To see my son happy in all his endeavors in life.

closest family member

My father, definitely. The funniest man I ever knew and one of the genuinely kindest. There will never be another one like him.

who would you call in an emergency?

911?

what makes you nervous? 

... a lot of things. I don’t like to be alone.

have you committed any crimes? were you caught?

I don’t think so! Not that I know of! Unless I did something and didn’t know it was illegal, but if I did, I’m sorry.

if you found a wallet, what would you do with it?

I’d find who it belonged to and give it back.

what makes you angry?

I don’t really get angry. Life is too short for that. I’d rather forgive and forget if possible.

have you ever been to the hospital? 

Yes. Several times. Last time was when little Henry was born.

have you ever fired a gun? 

No.

favorite swear word? 

Henry isn’t much of a fan of me swearing, so I don’t really use them much. I don’t think I have a favorite.

do you have any scars? 

None that come to mind. 

biggest weakness

I have trouble saying no to things. Sometimes that means I end up with too many things I have to do, but I’m working on getting better about that.

greatest strength

I like to think I’m a good person, but I guess most of all I just know how to live in whatever situation I end up in. No matter what I always find a way to make my situation work, whether or not I’m happy in it.

what kind of student are/were you?

I think I was a good student, though I never got a lot of points for participation or anything like that. I think I spent more time looking out the classroom windows than I ever did anything else.

most vivid childhood memory?

A lot of my childhood feels a lot like a daydream. It’s hard for me to even remember anymore how much of it was real and how much of it I just imagined.

what are you allergic to?

I’m not actually not allergic to anything, though in the Spring I do sometimes have an issue with the pollen in the air, I guess that counts. 

your personal philosophy

Do better today than you did yesterday.

biggest misconception about you?

I don’t know... I think I’m pretty much an open book. What you see is what you get.

who would be your ideal partner? 

I just want someone that I can spend time with and who wants to spend time with me. Someone willing to try new things with me and explore. Just someone who will hold my hand while we experience the world together. That’s all I want.

do you want children? 

I guess I never really thought about it, but now I wouldn’t give up my son for anything in the world.

biggest accomplishment

Having the most perfect little boy.

do you have much of an ego? 

Oh yeah, people tell me all the time that I’m way too confident for my own good. ... that was a joke.

can you do any other accents other than your own? 

I’ve never really tried. I suppose with some practice I probably could. I do silly voices when I read bedtime stories.

biggest regret

I don’t have regrets. Life is too short for that. Even the things I do regret all led me to where I am today and to things I don’t want to think about living without.

have you ever been in love?

Of course. That’s why I got married.

are you in love right now?

No. I don’t think that’s what this is.

I mean, yes, of course! 

do you believe god?

I believe in him, I just don’t always think that he’s got the time to look out for all the little people like me.

favorite school subject? 

Science. I liked science.

can you name all 50 states of america? 

I could when I was in school... so probably? I haven’t tried since I was fifteen.

what secret are you hiding from everyone you know?

... I let Henry take an extra cookie sometimes even though his father says I shouldn’t. It’s our little secret.

biggest wish

I wish for my son to grow up happy and healthy and to know that he is free to be with someone he loves, no matter what.

what do you hate most about yourself?

I just wish I had more confidence. Maybe if I did none of what happened would have come to be. Then again... that would mean I wouldn’t have any of the things I have now and I don’t know if I want that either.

what do you fear the most?

I’m scared of disappointing my father. After everything he’s done for me, I’m afraid of him knowing that I haven’t done everything he wanted for me. That he doesn’t know I’m not happy.

who was your first real crush?

I don’t really know? I mean, in school I knew a lot of people but I never really thought about whether or not I had feelings for them. There was someone in middle school. She had bright red hair and a laugh that you could hear all the way across the school yard and I always just wanted her to notice m

I guess my husband? I wouldn’t have married him if I didn’t like him. I can’t think of anyone else.

are you a very affectionate person? 

When it’s people you care about, it’s hard not to be affectionate, right?

do you think you’re a good person? 

I like to think so? I try to be. I don’t know if I always succeed, but I do whatever I can.

when did someone last admit romantic or sexual feelings for you? was the feeling mutual? 

My husband said he loved me before he left for his trip. Of course I love him too...

what do you do to relax at the end of a stressful day? 

I like to take walks, especially out in nature where it’s quiet except for the songs of birds and the rustling of wind. Nothing but natural sounds and fresh air.

what do you get complimented on the most? 

My looks, I guess? More than anything else really.

is there a song which can bring you to tears instantly? 

A lot of songs can do that. Or maybe I just cry too easily.

have you ever online dated? 

No. I downloaded an app once? But I never actually used it.

what are five things you want to do before you die?

1) Write a book  2) Travel the world 3) Climb a mountain 4) Go to my son’s wedding 5) Fall in love

[ifldo]

Scenes passed by quickly in the window of the car, Hyunjin’s eyes following whatever they could keep up with as they drove along the highway. He found solace in these moments, when Jisung would come and save him from himself. From the madness that was always at his house. The younger was like the brother that Hyunjin never had, always by his side. Though he often felt guilty because of this.. Jisung being younger than Hyunjin, but was always the one that took care of him. He’s tried to bring it up before, telling Jisung that he could take care of himself and that he doesn’t need help all the time. But Jisung always says the same things, ‘don’t worry about it’ or ‘that’s what friends are for’ or his personal favorite, ‘i’m just trying to be the father you never had.’ It always made Hyunjin laugh, regardless of the truth behind it sometimes. The pair really were inseparable and had been since they were in middle school. It was one day during seventh grade when Hyunjin walked into the science classroom, a pink lunchbox in hand. Pink was one of his favorite colors growing up, even though his father always told him to stick to more masculine colors like blue or red or black. But the thought of colors belonging to femininity or masculinity never made sense to him. Other students in his grade must have agreed with his dad though, because once he walked into class, a small group of students laughed at him and said he wanted to be a girl. Though that was never true, Hyunjin couldn’t help but feel targeted and hurt and embarrassed. He lied at first, saying it wasn’t his and that he forgot his lunch at home, but the teasing didn’t stop. It was Jisung that walked up from the back of the classroom, hands balled into fists on either side of his body that brought the harassment to an end. To anyone else, this may have seemed like just a small incident that anybody would encounter growing up. Boys will be boys, they say. But to Hyunjin, Jisung was special to him. It was the first time anyone had ever stuck up for him and made him feel some sort of importance. Jisung sat with him at lunch every day after that and he even went and bought himself his own pink lunchbox to match. And the two have just been best friends ever since.

“Where do you think we’re going?” Jisung spoke up from the driver’s seat, keeping his eyes on the road. Hyunjin hummed to himself for a moment, redirecting his attention to his friend. “Hm, I don’t know.. Minho’s?” Jisung scoffed faintly to himself, “no, but Minho will be there.”

“Then I don’t know, where?” There was a smug look on Jisung’s face and for a moment, Hyunjin got a little nervous. It was a face that he’d seen many times before and they usually didn’t have the smartest plans following them. “Come on, tell me,” Hyunjin pouted. They took another turn at a red light, nothing filling the space around them except empty fields and an old, abandoned gas station that looked like it hadn’t had company since the 60′s. The area was sketchy but he trusted Jisung enough to know he probably wasn’t being taken away to a cult to be sacrificed. Jisung was silent though, keeping his word to himself and not giving as much as a hint to Hyunjin. The latter always hated surprises. 

Once they turned down another road, more buildings came into view, a downtown of some sort. It began to look really familiar and Hyunjin felt a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Wait, are we..” he let out a heavy sigh and leaned back into the passenger seat, closing his eyes. “Jisung, are you taking me to a club?” That’s when the other boy broke out into a small fit of laughter, turning on his right blinker as they pulled into a crowded parking lot, still leaving Hyunjin in the dark. But he wasn’t having it. “Why are we here? Jisung, we can’t even get in to a club.. If you think I’m fucking sneaking into one with you then... no, absolutely not.” 

“Would you calm down? God you’re so annoying when you panic.” Jisung told him, pulling the keys out of the ignition and beginning to dig through his console. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll try to.. panic a little better next time.” He just rolled his eyes and looked out the window, waiting for any explanation his friend was hopefully planning on giving him. “Good,” he said, not looking up, “anyway.. we don’t need to sneak in. There is a show playing here tonight and you only have to be 18 or older to get in. — Hah, found it.” Jisung pulled out his license and shoved it into his back pocket. The boy never used a wallet. He always said they were too risky to carry around and instead shoved things into his pockets. “I think you’ll really like the guest playing tonight.” And with that, Jisung gave Hyunjin another one of those looks that made his stomach flip. 

‘What? Wait, what do you mean?” Hyunjin asked, trying to hurry and remove his seat belt to climb out of the car and catch up with Jisung who was already halfway to the club’s entrance. “Jisung, wait! Jisung.. I swear to god if—” But he was cut off by a ring of the other’s phone. 

“Hey, yeah no, we’re here,” Jisung spoke into the screen. He mouthed a quick ‘it’s Minho’ in his direction. But annoyance continued to build up within Hyunjin before he decided to take matters into his own hands, pulling out his phone and opening up his Safari app. If Jisung wasn’t going to tell him what was going on he guessed he’d just have to figure it out on his own. His fingers tried their best to move quick in the cold, searching up their location and entering in the name of the building. But what he found, he sort of wish he didn’t. This had to be fake. Yet, there it was in big, bold letters across the screen of his phone. 

SEO CHANGBIN. BEING HUMAN. THE BALLROOM AT WAREHOUSE LIVE. 8:30 PM. EVENT IS AGES 18+. 

Hyunjin’s mouth hung open and he began to feel his anxiety eating him from the inside out. By the time Jisung had hung up the phone and turned back around, Hyunjin looked like he’d witnessed something traumatic and he assumed that he’d just figured everything out. “Okay before you say anything, it was all Minho’s idea and I was just supposed to drive you here, so if you’re going to punch someone punch him and not me.” But Hyunjin didn’t want to punch anyone. If anything he was kind of happy about all of it, he was sort of obsessed with the rapper and getting to see him perform would be nice. Except for the fact that Changbin knew Hyunjin.. and the latter didn’t want that attention in hopes of things being awkward because God knows that he was exactly that. They’ve talked plenty of times before. In fact, Changbin messaged him often over social media and usually, it ended with him telling Hyunjin how pretty or cute he thought he was. Which of course, was flattering to the younger boy but he felt guilty, knowing that Changbin was in a relationship and didn’t want to come between that. No matter how hot he thought the rapper was. That’s when he started to panic even a little more. “Jisung I can’t go in there. What if he sees me? What if he wants to talk to me?” 

“Oh, he will. Come on,” Jisung stated rather bluntly, pulling Hyunjin close behind him. “What? What do you mean he will?” Hyunjin asked, starting to really hate the secrets. The pair came to the entrance, swinging the heavy double doors open and meeting a large man in the front who was dressed of importance. “Tickets?” He stated, crossing his arms over his chest. Hyunjin just looked over to Jisung, clueless but feeling assured at his friend’s calm features. He always admired how Jisung always managed to stay so cool. 

“Actually we don’t have tickets, but our friend is playing tonight and he knows we’re here. The names are Han Jisung and Hwang Hyunjin.” Hyunjin’s eyes widened as the words poured from his mouth. What on earth was he doing? “One second,” the security said before giving them both an intimidating look and walking over to another man who looked like he worked there as well. 

“Are you insane? You can’t just lie to security like that, we’ll get in trouble if they figure out,” Hyunjin started. His mind was moving too fast. “Would you calm down?” Jisung scoffed, leaning against the wall. “No, I won’t calm down. You think just because I talk to him sometimes, he’s just going to let us into his shows for free? Jisung, I’m not—”

“Alright, you’re good,” the guard interrupted, allowing them both entrance into the building. Hyunjin just stood there for a moment, surprised at what just happened. Did Changbin really know they were going to be there? And if he did, did he really just give them free access to his show? Jisung started first, giving Hyunjin a look that said ‘I told you so’ before going inside. Hyunjin hesitantly followed. The place smelled of alcohol and expensive cologne and there were a lot of people flooding the floor. It wasn’t really a place the boy would usually find himself in, the atmosphere a little too much for him. After a few minutes of roaming around and pushing through people, they found Minho leaving the bathrooms. “Ah, there you two are,” he yelled against the loud hum of music in the room. ‘Did you tell him everything?” 

“Actually he beat me to it,” Jisung responded. Minho just shook his head, “you’re so fucking lucky. I wish a hot rapper would fall in love with me at love at first sight and bring me out to his shows.” Jisung rolled his eyes at the comment at first but then laughed to himself, “you’d have to be as attractive as Hyunjin first for that to happen.” Minho smacked him on the arm and but then joined in with his laughing. They were always like this. Teasing and joking around with one another, but it’d always been obvious how in love with each other they were. “He’s not in love with me,” Hyunjin retorted, “and what are you talking about? You two are the ones that brought me here, not him.”

“I thought you said he knew everything?” Minho asked, shoving Jisung. “Okay I may have left that part out..” A puzzled expression settled on his face, waiting for an explanation. It was Minho who swung an arm around Hyunjin’s shoulder, pulling him close into him and began to explain everything. “Okay so, he messaged me at first, telling me about how he’s having a private show here in our city. He wanted to know if we’d all be interested in coming and of course I said yes, you’re welcome by the way. Then he wanted to make sure that you’d really be here.. He said that he wanted Jisung and I to sneak you out here without you finding out, so that it’d be a surprise. So yeah, this was all Changbin’s idea.” By the time Minho finished explaining everything to Hyunjin, the boy was in complete shock. He couldn’t believe this guy he barely knew did all of this just to see him. But the fact that it was Seo Changbin himself made it ten times harder to comprehend. What was so special about Hyunjin that he wanted to see him so bad? 

Just then, as if on queue, the music stopped playing and all you could hear for a moment was the conversations of strangers around them. Lights dimmed and everyone seemed to get a little too excited as a figure appeared on stage not far from where Hyunjin and his friends stood. The room turned red and the boy could easily tell who it was. Changbin’s presence was heavy. When he performed in front of people, it was like nothing you’d ever seen before. His stage presence was intoxicating and anyone who watched him couldn’t help but get wrapped into his music. It always felt like he was rapping directly to you and both of you were the only people in that room. Once the heavy bass of music started, everyone started to scream. He could immediately tell what song was playing, Cloud 9. One of his favorites. Countless girls ran to the front of the stage, pushing and shoving Hyunjin to get by. Though he didn’t really mind, he never did. Instead he watched from the side, in awe as he stared up at Changbin and took in the boy’s every move. He couldn’t tear his eyes away and for a moment, Hyunjin swore that Changbin made eye contact with him. It was quick, Hyunjin feeling his face start to burn as Changbin smirked in his direction. But it didn’t last long before the rapper got lost in his music again. And soon after that, the set was over. Changbin played five or six songs before heading off stage and admittedly, Hyunjin was sad to see him go. The lights turned back to their original dim hue and he watched as the girls that once flooded the foot of the stage, were now screaming together, talking about Changbin’s performance and freaking out about hot he looked. This made Hyunjin smile to himself, admiring how admired he was. 

But his admiring was cut short by the same security guard that they were once greeted with, the man now standing in front of them. Hyunjin got nervous, his natural instinct to think the worst. Was he getting kicked out? Did Changbin see him in person and change his mind about him? It seemed ridiculous considering this wasn’t the first time they’d actually seen each other, but his mind couldn’t help but wonder. “Hwang Hyunjin, right?” the guard questioned. Minho and Jisung looked at one another, clearly just as lost as he was. “Um.. yes.”

“Good,” he responded, folding his large arms over his chest, “Changbin would like you to come backstage.”

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want to see changbin’s outfit? CLICK

want to see hyunjin’s outfit? CLICK

want to see minho’s outfit? CLICK

want to see jisung’s outfit? CLICK