ms class

4

i love the third years

Lost And Then Found — Ted E. Bear’s Grand Aquarium Adventure

Late one afternoon, Security Officers Sylvia and Kevin found a lost teddy bear belonging to a visiting school. After locating the owners, they took him on a tour of the Aquarium to pass the time before he could be returned. Here is the tale of Ted E Bear’s Grand Aquarium Adventure.

Don’t worry, don’t panic. This has happened before.

Yep—I’m just here by myself, alone on the floor.
I guess things aren’t fine, since no adieu was truly bid…
Oh my goodness, my gracious, just where is my kid?!

Maybe the teacher brought everyone back to the kelp?
Nope, nobody. OK, uh—yeah, I may need a little help.

Excuse me coral, apologies, I don’t mean to vent
But perhaps you know where exactly my kid went?

I guess I’ll just finish the visit on my own, that’s not so bad.
When you’re happy as a clam there’s no reason to be sad.

*Sniff* No, this really isn’t fun to be alone with the fish!
I want to find my kid! Please, I just have this simple wish!

- Hey little buddy! Aw—are you lost my dear?
- Yes! I can’t find my kid! I’m alone forever I fear!
- What’s your name? We’re Kevin and Sylvia and we care.
- Thank you so much for your help. My name’s Ted E. Bear.

- Not to worry, helping you get unlost is part of our job!
- Really? Oh wow, oh thank you—you’re most—oh *SOB!*

There there Mr. Bear we’ll find your kid, post haste!
Now let’s make sure your visit doesn’t go to waste!

- Check it out, I helped raise this little purple-striped jelly!
- Wow, it’s really beautiful—awesome job there Tommy!
- Want to give it a shot? I’ll bet you’re great at animal care.
- Wow, I don’t think I could—I’m just a little plush bear!

- Nonsense, you got this. Here’s a scraper—it’s all in the wrist!
- How’s that?
- Perfect! Look at you—you’re a budding jelly Aquarist!

- Whoa, what’s this class—I get to feed the fishes?!
- Yep! But to pass, you’ll need to wash the dishes!

- The control room is cool!
- You’re eating it up like a glutton!
- What’s this switch here?
- DON’T TOUCH THE RED BUTTON!

- Want to help us greet our guests—Jasmine needs an intern!
- Oh wow, a job at the Aquarium—it will be so much fun to learn!

Learn… Where do I remember hearing that word… SCHOOL!
My kid! I have to get back! But… working here would be so cool!

Oh me, oh my—I really want to help conserve the great blue sea!
And… being there for my kid is the way for me to fulfill my destiny!

- OK, let’s find my school—what assistance can I show?
- Oh, we already found them.
- Really, when?!
- About 8 hours ago.

- Well, then let’s get this show on the road!
Box me up, make sure I’m safe and stowed!
- Can do Ted E! We wish you the best on your journey!
Thanks for stopping by, say hello to your school family!

Dear Sylvia and Kevin, 
I made it back to class safe and sound.
The teachers were so happy to tell the kids I had been found.
Thanks for teaching me to find my dreams and in my heart carry ‘em.
Much love from your Beary-best friend, Ted- E, to the Monterey Bay Aquarium!

Thanks so much to Ms. Bizon’s class and the Sea Breeze School in Foster City for letting us host Ted E for the day—albeit accidentally! We hope to sea him again soon!

2

there’s a good reason these tables are numbered honey, you just haven’t thought of it yet // panic! at the disco

welcome to reasons you should watch bbc’s class, by me, a trashcan:

• a diverse cast
• canon gay relationship established in the first episode
• sikh boy that overcomes grief and his footballer stereotype to just be awesome
• strong m/f friendships
• it’s funny. like really funny
• canon relationships and poc aren’t fetishised or sexualised
• not one character is ignored
• does not fall into predictable tropes or use predictable plot devices
• poc and foreign characters that are proud of their cultures and educate others on them
• cinnamon roll alien prince
• a* character development
• a sikh educating a white girl on his religion, beliefs and choices
• the theme of morality and grief
• pop culture references
• relatable characters. none of them are perfect
• doesn’t shy away from sex or suicide
• smart girl that has been moved up a year but also has the funniest lines
• adorable relationships
• that also have things to work through like real life relationships
• alien war criminal that likes cat memes
• tackles issues such as homophobia
• teen characters act like teens
• the best one-liners
• kick ass girl that defies expectations and accidentally becomes an alien king
• the families of the teens are not just left out but included in the action
• the characters’ interactions with said families are important to them and propel the plot forward
• “I don’t like knives”
• polish cinnamon roll that manages to be chill all the time until his boyfriend is in danger then he’s a bamf
• disabled characters that aren’t defined by their disabilities
• the cast are awesome
• aliens
• it’s doctor who for young adults
• basically
• watch it

Varsity Jackets and Peaches. - Part 1

–words: 6k

warning: grinding

Summary; Dan Howell hates him. He hates that black haired boy that wears a varsity jacket and smells like peaches and oh goes by the name Phil Lester. He takes joy out of ruining Dan’s life and he hates him. Well he hates him until a round of spin the bottle commences.

read part two here

     “Were going to be late!” Dan exclaimed.

Jesse rubbed his eyes and stuffed his books into his bag. He shut his locker just as Dan pulled him down the hall. Someone with red hair decided that he wanted to sleep in this morning and forget to pick his best friend up like he did every morning.

“It’s only Ms. Rogers class, calm down.” Jesse mumbled.

“Don’t tell me to calm down.”

Jesse rolled his eyes and let Dan pull him down the hall.

—-

Keep reading

Protective Tony x reader - part 2

A/N: Part 2 to “Protective Tony x reader” has finally arrive!!!!!!!

Warnings: Graphic descriptions and images of sex/sexual activities.


“Tony! Tony wait up!” I jog after him in the hallway.

“What the hell was that back there?” I pant out, once I’ve finally reached him.

 Tony sighs, turning around and looking at me.

Originally posted by kara-zorel

“You’re my friend Y/N, I was just protecting you from Montgomery, that’s all.” He says. I look down, slightly in disappointment. Of course he’s just protecting me from Montgomery. That’s what friends do right? A little part of me wishes there was another reason behind why Tony acted the way he did in the cafeteria, but I know that the possibility is highly unlikely. 

Keep reading

7th grade science (Zach Dempsey, 13 reasons)

Other than being on the badminton team to get out of having to take a gym class, you steered clear of sports. You hated the people, the double standards, and most importantly the fact that most of the school’s budget went to sports. You took part in theater and choir and dance and art and practically any visual/performing arts activity the school had to offer. By the end of your freshman year, you were helping out at the local elementary and middle schools that were putting on plays. Star basketball player, Zach Dempsey’s little sister was apart of play productions at her school.

After coming to one of her plays that you’d helped put on, you noticed Zach has made an effort to come over and speak with you. He seemed a little shy, but the two of you carried on a conversation perfectly fine. The week after that, you noticed Zach making an effort to talk to you every day. You didn’t think anything of it on the first day. Or the second. But things got suspicious after that. His friends started being nice to you. Justin started walking you to some of your classes, Sheri complimented your makeup. Marcus even offered to help you study. None of these people had really talked to you before. You stayed guarded. Your best friend had a history of dating jocks, but other than that, jocks had nothing to do with your personal life.

On this day, your best friend had gone home sick, the two of you didn’t drive, so you usually walked home together. With her absence, your earbuds became your friend for the walk home. You were still walking down the street in front of the school when you were jolted by a honk. You looked over to see a car driving by you slowly. The back seat held none other than Zach and Marcus. Justin filled the passenger seat, while Bryce drove.

“Need a lift home, Y/N?” You hear Bryce say, laughing under his breath. All the boys were staring at you, obviously waiting for an answer.

“Um, I’m fine, but thanks.” You went to put your earbud back in and continue on your walk.

“Got homework to do?” Justin asked. You swallowed. Not making direct eye contact with any of them.

"A lot, which is why I’m gonna get going.” You put the earbud in quickly this time. Walking off at a fast rate. They were, of course, in a car though, and you couldn’t exactly speed walk away from a car under most circumstances.

"We could get you there faster.” Marcus laughed. You could hear their various comments no matter how loud you played your music. Finally, you yanked both earbuds out.

"I’m really not trying to be a bitch. Really, I’m not. And I know none of you are used to hearing the word no. But there’s a first time for everything. No, I do not want to ride with you. I want to walk home, alone, listening to the music I want to listen to. I’ll see all of you at school tomorrow.”

You looked up at the sky, dark clouds were taking over, as well as winds. You, being in a short sleeve T shirt, crossed your arms over you chest and sped up, wanting to get home before the rain started. A minute later, you looked over and they were gone. You breathed a sigh of relief.

"Uh, Y/N?” You jump, startled once again. You look up to see Zach walking next to you. He grinned at you.

"I’ve been here for a solid minute, and you haven’t noticed. What is that you’re on, twitter?” You glared at him, walking even faster now.

"This could probably qualify as harassment. Where’d the car go?” You look around in the surrounding Parking lots and on the streets.

“I told them to go on without me. I wanted to talk to you.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, still looking at you.

"Yeah, okay.” You mumbled, staring at the ground. You suddenly felt drops on your arms and on your head. It was beginning to rain.

“Shit.” You found yourself mumbling again.

You walked faster, not wanting the papers in your backpack to be completely drenched. You soon realized that Zach was a lot faster than you and could keep up with you. And suddenly, you had his letterman jacket draped over you.

"I’m fine.” You grumbled. He simply chuckled.

“You’re soaked.” He corrected. You rolled your eyes.

"And now you will be to.” He was in a tight blue T shirt, his arms crossed like yours. He smiled at you.

"Better me than you.” You gave him a side eye glance. He wanted to play gentleman, did he?

"Since when do I exist to you?” You adjusted the jacket to where it covered your head.

“What are you talking about? We’ve been friends since elementary school.” You scoffed, pursing your lips.

"Aren’t we friends?” You could feel him looking at you. You walked faster, he knew you weren’t friends before this. He knew you hadn’t talked since you’d been paired up in seventh grade science for a project.

"Do you really think we qualify as friends, Zach? Do you really think that?” You looked up at him. He looked a little hurt, but maybe like he knew you were right.

"Look, I know we just started hanging out but-” you stopped abruptly, catching him off guard.

"Hanging out? You call you and your friends following me around for a week straight ‘hanging out’? I call it creepy.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. He hadn’t expected you to be so harsh and brash.

"I’m sorry okay? It’s just, my sister loved working with you so much and it just reminded me of some stuff.” He pushed his now sopping hair out of his face. You were a block away from your house, so you started walking again.

"Stuff being?” You persisted, though you walked ahead so you couldn’t see his reaction.

"It reminded me of why you’re the only girl I’ve ever really had a crush on.” You stopped. Sure, you were in front of your house, but you also couldn’t move. Zach Dempsey had a crush on you? Key word being had, but still.

"How? When? Where? W-” he cut you off this time. You were still in front of him but you heard him let out a sigh.

"Justin and them- they’re better than they seem. But they don’t get biology, or why I love it. Do you remember when we were paired up in Ms. Milton’s class in middle school for a project?” Zach looked at you. You opened the white picket fence that shut you away from your yard, walking inside the property.

"You can come in, Zach.” You held the fence open. He shuffled quickly inside. He looked surprised that you’d even invited him in. You walked up the path way and up to your porch, unlocking your front door.

"It’s not fancy like yours, but it’s home.” You held the door open for him once again and he walked inside, looking around.

"I’ll get you a towel.” You ran up the stairs, soon coming back down, handing him the towel. You gestured for him to follow you as you walked into the living room to sit on the couch. He sat next to you.

"What were you saying about Ms. Milton?” You didn’t want to let on that you knew exactly what had occurred in Ms. Milton’s class.

"Well- we were partners for a project. And- I let you pick the animal we’d do the project on. You picked whales. And I became so interested in sea life after that project. Now I wanna be a marine biologist. It all started in Ms. Milton’s.” He stared at you. He was serious. He’d been in love with you since the seventh grade.

"Yeah? Well you stopped talking to me in high school. I stopped mattering to any sports player once high school hit.” You didn’t make eye contact with him.

"Okay. Well, I thought I’d never have a chance as soon as I became a basketball player. But I’ve liked you so much- ever since middle school.” You looked up he was scratching the back of his neck.

"You do that when you get nervous.” You pointed out. He laughed a little.

"Oh yeah? When you’re anxious or nervous, you pick your nail polish off.” He was right. That was a nervous tick you had. Maybe he wasn’t such a liar after all.

"Listen, I’m sorry if the boys started to bombard you. They just- they hook up with a ton of girls and they were worried because I wasn’t into any girls they sent my way. When I finally told them about my.. thing for you, they went a bit nuts.”
You laughed a little. Justin and Marcus fucked anything that walked at parties. Bryce’s dad set it up so he could order strippers and prostitutes to come whenever he wanted. Zach was different from his friends. Everyone in the school knew it.

"Do you wanna stay for dinner Zach?” You blushed a little as you looked his way.

"Sure, but can I take you out for some food tomorrow night? Just us?”

You felt yourself blushing again. Defensive? Sure you were. But your heart was already fluttering at the idea of going to dinner with Zach Dempsey.

Hidden Behind Glasses (Zach Dempsey x Reader)

Chapter Summary: You and Zach are kept after class to speak with your English teacher.


Originally posted by veronicsalodge

Part 2

Y/N P.O.V.

You dreaded 3rd period.

You were sitting at your desk, the first one in class as usual. It didn’t take long for more students to get inside the classroom, but when Zach and Justin entered, you practically shrunk into your seat. Pretending not to notice them, you stared at the surface of your desk. Justin already spotted you and tapped Zach to get his attention, nodding his head in your direction.

Keep reading

Montgomery x Reader Imagine (Part 6/?)

PART 1    PART 2     PART 3     PART 4       PART 5


I arrived at school and spotted Jess, Sheri and Zach standing outside.

“Hi, guys”, I came up to them.

“Hey, Y/N, what’s up girl? Did you do that English homework?”, Jess asked.

We had English together, and having class with Jessica had good and bad sites. Good – I was in class with my friend. Bad – she have never done her homework.

“Yes, I did”, I rolled my eyes and took my notebook out of my bag.

Unfotunately, along with the book my home keys fell out to the ground.

“Shit”, I mumbled and bent down to grab them, I was wearing loose shirt, so when I reached down more of my chest was visible than when I was standing.

“Wait, wait, wait”, Jess titled my shirt showing a lot of my boob to the world.

“What the hell, Jess?”, I asked shocked. Zach quickly turned his head away, which was nice.

“Is that a hickey?”, she pointed at my breast.

“…Nooo?”, I patted her hand, she stopped  holding my shirt and I could finally fix it so that everyone around couldn’t see my boob.

“Then what is that?”, she asked crossing her arms on her chest.

“I… I… Ummm… Burned myself with a straightener…”, I tried to come up with any excuse. “Yeah, right, I was playing with a straightener and burned myself. On a boob”, I shrugged like nothing.

“You burned your boob with a straighneter?”, she totally wasn’t buying it.

“Can you just stop saying boob?”, Zach asked.

“Well, yeah, I was home alone and tried to learn how to curl my hair with a straightener, I was holding it like this”, I started showing them some moves that was supposed to show playing with straightener, “and then I got notification on my phone and I wanted to check it, because I’m stupid, cause who normal would check their phone while holding straightener, right?”, I started giggling nervously. “So yeah, I took my phone, then straightener went like this and yeah, I burned my boob. Sorry, Zach, I burned myself”, I nodded my head as if I tried to convince myself it was true.

Jessica stared at me for a longer moment and when she finally open her mouth to say something Justin and Montgomery came up.

“Hey, y’all”, Foley wrapped his arm arund Jess. “What’s up?”

Fucking bastard, I thought when I quickly looked at Monty. Sheri was biting her lip trying not to laugh.

“Y/N, you’re lying”, Jessica laughed. “You have a fucking hickey!”

“Shut up!”, I nervously looked around just to see few people turned their head in our direction and few jocks sent me cocky smiles, so obviously they had heard her. “It’s not a hickey”’, I said quietly.

“She has a hickey?”, Justin asked, again too loud. “I don’t believe it until I see it”

“You’re her boyfriend, I’m not gonna show you my boob”.

“I’m nobody’s boyfriend”, Monty spoke.

“Fuck off, Montgomery”, I rolled my eyes. “Nobody’s gonna watch a hickey”.

“Ha! So you have it!”, Justin pointed at me.

“I don’t have any… You know what, whatever, here, copy your homework”, I gave Jess my notebook. “I’m going to the class, see you later losers and I don’t want to hear about hickey that doesn’t exist again”, I waved at them and went inside.

Instead of going to class and went to the toilet, locked myself in one of the stalls and tilted my shirt.

“Fuck…”, I mumbled.

Hickey obviously was there, but I was dressing up in such a hurry in the morning that I didn’t even saw it. I took my phone and texted Monty.

Y/N: I hope you’re fucking proud of yourself.

I left the stall and my phone buzzed.

Montgomery: I don’t consider your breast as a visible place. It’s your and your blouse’s fault.

Y/N: You’re ridiculous and I’ll kill you the first second I met you.

The first second came quickly, because I bumped on him when I left toilet.

“Hello, hickey girl”.

“Don’t even start”, I stopped him with my hand and quickly walked passed him and went to the class.

Second period was Math, but luckily when Monty got to the class I was talking to Alex, de la Cruz had to take the seat and because his seat was at the opposite end of the room I was sure he wouldn’t try to talk to me for another hour.

On lunch break I was waiting in line in cafeteria when I felt someone staring over my shoulder I turned my head and saw one of the jocks trying to look under my shirt.

“Seriously?”, I asked. “Seriously?”

I took my tray and walked away to the table where already sat Sheri, Jeff and Zach.

“What did he want from you?”, Jeff asked.

“To check if there is a hickey on my breast”, I said basically throwing food at the table.

“Is there any?”

“No!”, I lied and lying to Jeff felt terrible, but I couldn’t just say ‘yes there is, Monty did it during our casual sex’.

Speaking of the devil, he showed up shortly after me with Justin and Jessica.

“Hey, thanks for homework, I changed it so it wouldn’t look too obvious”, she put my notebook next to me.

I nodded my head without saying a word.

“Oh, Y/N, come on”, she jerked my arm. “Don’t be mad”.

“How can I not be mad when you basically shouted out that I have a hickey on a boob and three minutes ago this jerk”, I pointed at the guy who was standing behind me in the line, “tried to see if it’s really there”.

I spotted Monty’s jaw clenched, I kicked him under the table, so he would calm down.

“Just tell me who did the damn hickey and if it’s really not a hickey, say it again and this time I’ll believe you and never talk about this again, I promise”.

She bit her lips waiting for me to response.

“It’s not a hickey”, I said quietly.  

“Okay”, she smiled.

After lunch I left cafeteria with Monty as we were going for chemistry, but I didn’t even say a word.

“Hey, say something”, he said. I didn’t answered. “Oh, come on, you’re not that pissed.”

“Yes, I am”.

“It’s not even my fault”, he rolled his eyes.

“So are you saying you’re not the one who did the fucking hickey?”, I asked quietly but harshly.

“Well, obviously it was me, but everyone found out because of fucking Jessica”, he defended himself.

“I’m lying to my friends because of you. You’re lying to your friends, you feel good with that?”.

“Jeez, it’s not like somebody gets hurt or anything because of that. Don’t treat it like lying, consider it as… not saying the whole truth”, he said.

“Okay, listen”, I took a deep breath. “I got mad and it stressed me a bit, so I might be a bitch today. Just give me a day, tomorrow I’ll be normal, I don’t stay mad for too long”.

“You know, I can make it up to you”, Monty smirked at me.

“You’ll do whole chemistry project by yourself?”, I smiled with hope even though I knew he wasn’t talking about that.

“Nooo, I mean something more… physical”.

“No, no, no, not anytime soon”, I shaked my head.

“Why, I didn’t pushed anyone today!”, he protested.

“You did other things. Now you have to get punished”, I said. “And I don’t mean any weird foreplay or whatever you’re imagining in your head right now”, I added quickly seeing smirk on his face. “And nothing’s gonna happen for like another five days, I can tell you”, I say quietly. I looked at him, Monty clearly didn’t have any idea what am I talking about. “It’s these days”, I put an accent on a word, so he would finally understand.

“Ohh… Right…”, he nodded his head being a little uncomfortable. “But your mouths aren’t bleeding, right?”

“You’re a dick”, I said a little bit too loud while we were walking into class.

“Ms Y/L/N, language please”, teacher reprimanded me.

“Sorry, “ I mumbled when I was taking my seat while Monty was cracking up trying not to laugh.


This one is a little bit shorter, because… idk why, it is what it is, there isn’t even a lot of Monty in it lol

sneak peak: next part - protective (!) Monty

@sighsophiia - you asked me to tag, so here ya go x
I was supposed to publish it tomorrow, but I’m drunk and eating sandwich so yeah
plus Monty’s tag is dead af

there's a devil in your smile (that's chasing me)

♡♡♡ for bruna @suprcorp ♡♡♡

the high school au i took too long to write and it ended up being longer than i thought it would be.

basically: the one where kara is very much in love with lena just as lena is very much in love with kara & everything goes sort of wrong before it ends up right.

also on ao3

Kara wasn’t supposed to be in detention. It isn’t even her fault that she is here, no matter what the voice inside her head - which sounds suspiciously like Alex’s - is telling her.

She was just trying to help the poor kitten down from that tree. Everything was going okay and according to plan.

She climbed the tree, calmed the poor animal down and was opening her backpack so she could put him inside, that way she could climb down safely and as a normal human would, using both hands and decidedly not flying.

Naturally, everything started going downhill from there.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Trimberly - jealous Kim and maybe a little bit of angst

You got it! 

—-

Tommy Oliver.

New kid. Tall. Brunette. Green eyed (appropriately). Surprisingly Popular (suspicious - no new kid had a right to be popular). Green Ranger (very suspicious). Tomboy. Straight-A Student (so why detention??? Also suspicious).

And the absolute bane of Kimberly Hart’s existence. 

The moment Tommy had arrived in detention, Kim had smelled trouble. Because not only was Tommy gorgeous, not only was Tommy funny, and athletic, and intelligent. 

Not only was Tommy Oliver basically perfect in the cut-throat adolescent world of High School, but Tommy Oliver was charming. Kim hated charming people. She especially hated them right now. Because right now, Tommy fucking Oliver was flirting with Trini. What’s worse? Trini was giggling. And blushing

And Kim couldn’t do a fucking thing about it. 

She’d been flirting (haha see what she did there? Pathetic) with the idea of asking Trini out for months. And really, who wouldn’t? Trini was damn near perfect. She was kind and intelligent and funny and absolutely gorgeous. 

And she was far too good for Kimberly Hart.

She was too good for the ex-cheerleader who was this close to being labeled a sex offender. She was too good for the girl who got so defensive over her own actions, she punched her ex-sort-of-not-really-boyfriend so hard without powers that he’d lost a tooth. She was too good for the girl who was so emotionally stunted she’d kept them all from morphing until Billy had died.

So no, Kim wasn’t good enough for Trini. But she wasn’t positive Tommy Oliver was either.

“You trying out your laser vision again, princess?” 

Zach’s amused drawl broke through her staring contest with the back of Tommy’s head. 

“Huh? We don’t have laser vision, doofus.” 

“Well you’re definitely trying to melt the back of poor Tommy’s head. What did she ever do to you, huh?” 

Kim glanced away just as Tommy shifted to reveal a surprisingly bashful Trini. 

“Oh.”

Kim sighed. Sometimes she thought the only one in their group who didn’t know about her pathetic crush on the Yellow Ranger was Trini herself. 

“Yeah.” What else was there to say? She didn’t have a chance with Trini, she knew that. And Tommy really was a good sort. Mostly. And hey if she could make Trini smile like that, who was Kim to get in the way? No one, that’s who. 

She feels Zach’s gaze on her, but she refuses to look up. She doesn’t want to see the pity in his eyes. She doesn’t see the thoughtfulness in his gaze, or the way his eyes flick between Trini’s furtive looks in Kim’s direction, and Kim’s hunched shoulders.

….

Trini slid next to Zach in their English class with and grunted out some form of greeting as she rested her head on top of her folded arms. She had a massive headache and really just wanted to do some yoga on her rock. She was not looking forward to debating Shakespeare for the umpteenth time this year with a bunch of pimply hormonal teens.

“’Sup, Crazy Girl.”

Grunt.

“Got a headache?” 

Shrug.

“Got anything to do with a certain green friend of ours?”

Head tilt, murderous glare.

Students were settling into their seats as the teacher wrote their assignments on the board, and told them to choose partners to go over the next Act of Hamlet. Zach payed the rest of them no mind.

“Funny thing, I think Kim’s got a headache for the same exact reason.”

“Wait, what?”

“Oh, it speaks!”

“Shut up idiot.”

“Ouch. Words hurt, you know”

“You don’t have enough brain cells to be offended by my awesome snark.”

“Damn, fine. I won’t tell you what Kim said earlier when Tommy was all over you.” 

“What the fuck, Zach.”

Zach buried his nose in Shakespeare and ignored Trini’s glare. Finally, she rolled her eyes. 

“Fine, o amazing Black Ranger. I only insult your awesomeness because I cannot even dream to match it. Alright? Just tell me already!”

Zach smirked. “Someone’s eager. And just how much Shakespeare have you been reading, Trinity?”

She kicked his shin under the table, hard.

“Call me Trinity again and you’ll wish Rita was back.”

“Ok, ok, jesus, leave my bones intact, Crazy Girl! I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but - and I say this with all possibly love - but damn girl you’re oblivious. Even Jason figured it out, and you know that’s saying something.”

“Figured what out?” Trini was getting more confused by the second, and it wasn’t helping her headache in the slightest. If Zach didn’t get to his point soon, she’d punch him and deal with going to the principal’s office happily.

“Kim’s got a gigantic gay crush on you, Trini.”

Trini blinked. “Huh?”

It was Zach’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“Girl, the only thing that even comes close to your crush on Kim, is her crush on you. We both know Tommy just likes to flirt - especially with you, because you blush so easily when a pretty girl is paying attention to you -”

Trini kicked his shin again with a hissed “Hey!”

“ - Ow! What? It’s the truth! Anyway, I don’t think Kim’s realized that Tommy’s flirting is harmless when it comes to you. I mean hey we all know she’s got the hots for the hottest member of the team. Moi.”

Another kick. “Ow! I’m going to the police. This abuse is just unwarranted.”

“Zach, for fucks sake, please get to the point.”

“I thought I had? What’s that glare for? You need me to spell it out? Kim. Was. Jealous. Kim. Likes. You. Idiot. No accounting for taste, but - HEY!”

“Zach, Trini, is there something you’d like to share with the class?”

“No, Ms. Morris we were just, uh, having a disagreement over the meaning of a passage.”

Watching Zachary Kwan trying to appear innocent was not a pretty sight, but luckily, their teacher just rolled her eyes and moved on.

“What did I say about the kicking?? Jeez. And here I am, trying to help you out. Some friend you are.”

“Aww poor wittle baby. Suck it up, bitch.” 

Trini was quiet for a moment, thinking. 

“You’re not pulling my leg? Kim’s really into me?”

“Dude you’re like, Wynonna Earp level oblivious.”

“I don’t know whether to take that as an insult or a compliment.”

“Definitely an insult.” 

“Rude.”

Tommy’s next flirting target two days later, ironically, was Kim. 

Their training session for the day had ended, and they were all relaxing and nursing various bruises and scrapes under the coolness coming from the lake above the pit. Trini, observing Tommy’s flirting process, personally thought that the award for Wynonna Earp obliviousness should go to Kim, who hadn’t realized yet that Tommy had been flirting with her for the past half hour.

Trini had conducted her own experiments over the past two days to see if Zach was just insane or if his claim held any merit. She’d found, to her surprise, that he might, in fact, in some weird twist of fate, be right, and she’d been trying all morning to come up with a way to ask her fellow ranger out. 

And then Tommy had butted in, and Zach had been smirking at her for the past half hour, and winking every time Tommy said something even remotely suggestive. Now, glancing from Kim to Zach one more time, he waggled his eyebrows and tilted his head in a clear dare. Trini Alverado was not one to ever back down from a dare.

Taking a fortifying breath, she left her perch atop one of the rocks in the pit and stalked over to Kim and Tommy. Kim brightened at the sight of her, giving Trini butterflies, and Tommy’s eyes took on a mischievous gleam. 

“Hey, Tommy. Kim, I’m really sorry about this.”

Kim looked confused, and Tommy looked amused. 

“For what?” They voiced the query at the same time. 

Taking another breath, Trini grabbed Kim’s wrist and pulled the taller girl down so she could press her lips to Kim’s.

She could hear Zach’s whoop of laughter, Billy’s clapping, and Jason’s cheering in the background as she felt Kim’s startled exhale of breath against her face. A tentative hand threaded itself through her hair as she felt Kim move closer to her, press more firmly into her lips, and heard Tommy’s quiet chuckle next to them.

She pulled away from Kim, a small smirk on her lips and took a few steps backwards.

“We should do that again some time, if you’re interested.”

With a thrust from her legs, she propelled herself through the lake, hoping Kim wouldn’t be too far behind.

Be More Chill Senior Year, Boyf Riends

“You okay​ in there Jeremy? We can go to the nurse.” Michael stood outside of the stall Jeremy had just ran into.
“N…no I’m alright…”
“You’re in the bathroom about to throw up, I don’t think that’s alright.”
“I’m not going to throw up, my chest just feels weird.”
‘And this conversation is making me want to gag. Accept the offer so that he can personally walk you down to the nurse’s office and then you can get out of school early.’
“I’m not leaving early on me first day of Senior year…”
“If your sure, but you might want to hurry up, the bell’s going to ring soon and if we’re late to Ms.Clark’s class she’s going to kill us.” Jeremy reluctantly got up from his position on the bathroom floor, opening the stall door.
The two headed back to the table and sat down when Jeremy noticed the smirk on Rich’s face.
“Why are you so happy?”
“Oh, no reason…”
“There was too long of a pause after that to be normal.” Jeremy looked suspiciously at his food tray for a moment before going to check his bag. A familiar “Boyf” was it’s new label and Michael lifted his up to read “Riends”.
“This time in permeant marker, have fun trying to get rid of that.” The SQUIP may be gone but Rich’s humor was not.
‘Oh, but only if it were true.’ Everyone at the table’s phone went off at once prompting them to check. It was a mass text sent by Chloe saying everyone was invited to get beginning of the year party tonight. Christine looked across the table at Chloe.
“We’re all sitting right here, you literally could have just told us.”
“Yeah, I could of but I was already going to send out the text and I would have to of unchecked you guys if I did that and there was like a of people already….” Jeremy zoned out again as she began to talk.
‘I can’t believe you almost slept with her.’
‘I can, you made me.’
‘Fair point.’ The bell sounded as Jeremy slung his bag over his shoulder going with Michael to Ms.Clark for Human Anatomy. Jake turned to his boyfriend, seeing the matching backpacks.
“That’s kind of mean Rich.”
“Hey, it’s not mean if it’s true.” Rich lifted Jake’s bag that read “If found return to Rich.”
Rich’s said “I am Rich.”
“Aw, bro.” Jake leaned in for a kiss that quickly turned into making out. A teacher had to forcefully sperate them before it got any farther.

anonymous asked:

please elaborate on how you got a substitute teacher to quit within one day. I'm genuinely curious.

all right everyone sit down, shut up and listen closely because I’m about to tell y'all the tale of Ms. Mormino.

Seventh grade is a time most people don’t look back on fondly. I know I sure don’t–I tend to regard that era as nothing more than an unpleasant, acne-filled haze of fall out boy and poor attempts at pseudo-zooey deschanel fashions. But enough about me. Let’s talk about my math teacher. 

Ms. Isom. Poor old Ms. Isom. Well in her 60’s, always plagued with some illness or injury, she was hardly ever even at school. Since many of her absences were the result of short-notice incidents–“falling down the stairs” was popularly cited– it wasn’t all that uncommon to not have a substitute on hand. Being a smartass honors class, we’d gotten away with several successful evasions of administration, walking cavalierly into class  to pass the next 48 minutes doing just about nothing. Hell, for good measure, we’d sometimes even toss in a friendly “hey, Ms. Isom!” if any administrators were anywhere within earshot. So incredibly anti-establishment, you could basically call it another Project Mayhem, except instead of Brad Pitt and Ed Norton concocting homemade bombs, it was a bunch of tweenyboppers with iPhone 3’s and Justin Bieber 2009 haircuts. 

 We got pretty accustomed to our own little self-governing system that rolled around every second period, so we naturally weren’t exactly thrilled when administration caught on to our little Anarchy Act and strictly enforced the presence of a substitute every day. 

Most of our subs weren’t terrible–most were friendly, gave us participation grades, and didn’t object to the independent attitude of our class (which, mind you, only had about ten students in it) 

That is, until Ms. Mormino came along. 

Four feet, ten inches of raw, undiluted evil, Ms. Mormino walked into class with a scowl on her face and a chip on her shoulder. When the girl behind me sneezed, Ms. Mormino’s immediate response was “NO INAPPROPRIATE NOISES!" 

 Although we all suppressed our laughter, we all knew from that moment on that, try as she might with her despotism and her draconian anti-sneeze policy, Ms. Mormino didn’t stand a chance. 

 The arguable beginning of the end for Ms. Mormino’s all-too-brief reign of terror was the moment I asked for a calculator; mine was broken. Mormino asserted that I could only borrow a calculator if I loaned her something of mine; at that moment, the girl next to me chimed in, saying she, too, needed a calculator. "I have a folder I can give you,” I offered. “I have a highlighter,” added the other girl. 

 At that moment, a puberty-creaking voice from the back of the room piped up. 

Max. 

We all know certain people have certain gifts. Michelangelo saw angels in every block of marble and devoted his life to setting them free; Einstein had a mind which saw the potential of the entire universe; F. Scott Fitzgerald wove intricate tales of decadence and depravity. Max, however, had a different kind of gift: he could make anything–anything at all–into a “that’s what she said” joke. More on that later, though. 

Max pried off a Nike sneaker and held it proudly in the air, like a coveted trophy. 

“I have a shoe." 

Tottering in one-shoe-one-sock, Max dumped the sneaker on Ms. Mormino’s desk, retrieved a calculator, then tottered back to his own desk, a sort of smirk playing on his face. And, as to be expected–the rest of us quickly followed suit. 

 A small pile of shoes on her desk, Ms. Mormino grit her teeth and glared at us as we all sat back down, quietly victorious, a calculator in each of our hands. It wasn’t long, however, until we all began to silently plot our next act of minor mayhem. 

"Can I go to the bathroom?” asked Tyler, who, despite being in seventh grade, was approaching his sixteenth birthday. In a combination of verism and admiration of Tyler’s devil-may-care boldness, we unequivocally accepted him as our leader. For reasons unknown, Ms. Mormino denied his request. Tyler, much like his Fight Club namesake, heeded no rules but his own and left anyway–Ms. Mormino, furious, locked the door behind him and smugly insisted that “administration will take care of him." 

Tyler, however, was not one to be caught, and stayed close by, appearing in the window of the door whenever Ms. Mormino wasn’t looking. Waving, smiling, laughing, making faces and obscene gestures, Tyler had us all in stitches, but cleverly avoided Ms. Mormino’s sight–when she asked us what was so funny, we all refused to give Tyler away. 

A girl asked to go to the bathroom, stating she "really really really” needed to go. Ms. Mormino, again, denied her request. Ms. Mormino, however, seemed to be uninformed about the side door–leading right outside, always locked from the outside but always open from the inside. 

“Well, I’ll go myself,” the girl responded, and took off, hurdling three desks and darting out the door. Right behind her, two other students took off, pursuing freedom. The door slammed behind all three students, and they were gone. 

 Six of us were left. Among us, importantly, was Chris. 

Chris was thirteen, but looked half his age; scrawny, wiry, he probably measured in at about four-foot-three, but no taller. “Late Bloomer” are words that come to mind. 

Despite his diminutive size, Chris possessed the gall of someone like Tyler.

“I have to use the bathroom,” said Chris, standing. 

 "Do you think I’m going to allow you to go to the bathroom?“ snapped Ms. Mormino. 

 "It’s an emergency!” Chris pleaded. 

“Sit down,” Ms. Mormino growled. 

Meanwhile, the entire class borders on hysteria. We have tears in our eyes, almost suffocating from choking back laughter. 

“It’s an emergency,” repeated Chris, but it sounded more like a warning.

“Sit.”

Silence. Silence, Silence and more silence, until we all began to notice a dark stain on Chris’s khakis. The stain grew. And grew. And grew.

 Fists at his sides, stoicism in his face, and a cold, proud, triumphant glint in his eye, Chris locked eye contact with Ms. Mormino. 

And pissed right in his pants. 

The entire class erupted into a laugh only comparable to the detonation of a bomb. 

We laughed so hard for the next five, ten, fifteen minutes straight that Ms. Mormino gave up. Surrendering, putting her head on her desk, she waited until the hysteria finally subsided. 

Finally looking up, defeated, pathetic, Ms. Mormino glared at us all and wailed: 

 "This is too much, this is too hard, too hard, Jesus Christ, this is too much for me!“ 

 A lone voice sounded from the back of the room. Guess whose it was.

"That’s what she said.”

Ms. Mormino officially retired from teaching that afternoon.

anonymous asked:

If your still taking writing requests, could you do “Your wound reopened, didn’t it?” With Damian and Jason please?

Jason and Damian are both so terrible at showing they care. And looking after themselves… 

Enjoy, anon! I hope this is something like what you were looking for :)

The funny thing is, it doesn’t even happen on patrol. Well, not an offical patrol. Batman is out of town on League business and Damian isn’t allowed to patrol without appropriate supervision - which apparently just means Nightwing, who is busy in Bludhaven - but that’s never stopped him before. Alfred had taken the Robin suit as a precaution against him sneaking out on his own, so when Damian had inevitably snuck out he’d had to do it in dark civvies instead.

Everything is going relatively well until he drops in to give the Red Hood a hand taking down a gang. Without the Kevlar protection of his suit, a glancing slash from a knife slices through the fabric of his hoodie and the flesh beneath instead of bouncing harmlessly off armour. He doesn’t notice it at first, too absorbed in taking down the thug (un)lucky enough to get him. It’s only once the fight is over and the adrenaline fades that the injury hits him, pain radiating from his side like fire. He groans and Hood is immediately looming over him.

“Where are you hit?” he demands. Then, “Wait, no, first - what the fuck are you even doing here? Isn’t it passed your bedtime?”

“Robin doesn’t have a bedtime,” Damian snaps, pressing his hand against his side. It comes away glistening red.

Red Hood snorts. “You don’t look much like Robin right now.” He kneels down to inspect Damian’s side himself, tearing the black hoodie even more so he can peel it away from the edges of the wound. He winces. “B is going to fucking kill me.”

Damian tries to peer at the cut himself, but it’s too dark in the alley to properly asses the damage from his angle. “You can’t tell Father,” he says, trying for authoritative but coming out borderline pleading. “He’s busy, he doesn’t need to worry about a minor injury.” And I don’t want him to take Robin away.

“Minor?” Todd’s voice rises with incredulity, hovering over the side of his helmet where Damian knows the button to activate his comm link is. “That’s gonna need at least a dozen stitches. And I’m not calling Daddy Bats, anyway, I’m calling Alfred.”

Damian grabs his arm desperately, gasping when it causes a new wave of pain to lance through his side. “No! Please, you can’t!”

“Woah, calm down.” Hood grabs his shoulders to hold him still. “Jesus Christ, kid, you’re going to make that worse.”

“You can’t tell them,” Damian says again, prepared to sound as much like a broken record as it takes to wear Todd down.

The older vigilante hesitates, then sighs. “Fine. Whatever. They’d probably blame me anyway.” They wouldn’t, but Damian doesn’t bother arguing the point. “Come on, I have a safe house a couple of blocks away. I’ll stitch you up then you can go home and attempt to lie to Alfred yourself. Just don’t involve me.”

When Damian’s alarm wakes him at six-thirty the next morning he wants nothing more than to put his pillow over his head and go back to sleep. But that would be suspicious. So he carefully rolls out of bed, takes another dose of ibuprofen and stumbles into the bathroom to shower. 

By the time he gets down to breakfast, the painkillers have kicked in and the shower has sufficiently woken him up so that he’s acting close enough to normal not to draw Pennyworth’s attention. He eats mechanically, then retreats back upstairs until Pennyworth calls for him.

“Don’t drag your feet, Master Damian, it will only make you late for school, it won’t make it go away,” the butler says, mistaking Damian’s slow movements as he comes back downstairs with his backpack for reluctance. He scowls and walks even slower, grabbing onto the excuse of a bad attitude with fervour. In the car, he sits stiffly in the backseat and stares out the window, eager for their arrival so he can escape Pennyworth’s scrutiny, but dreading the school day ahead.

It’s all going relatively well until the end of lunchtime. Damian is headed back to his locker to retrieve the books he needs for the final classes of the day when he makes a mistake. A few boys from two grade above him are bullying a younger kid, pushing him around and laughing as they go through his backpack. And Damian gets involved. 

He can’t not get involved.  

It’s a short fight. One which ends when one of the older boys whacks Damian in the side with a textbook and he doubles over, gasping through the sudden onslaught of pain. The bullies laugh and call him names, getting in a few more hits for good measure before taking off down the now-empty hallway.

Slowly, Damian forces himself to straighten up and collect his books. If he’s late to class Ms Carlisle will give him a detention without care for any excuses he could come up with. And he doesn’t need Father to be even more disappointed in his school performance.

It’s just a bit of pain. Nothing he hasn’t dealt with before. He can make it to the end of the day.

Damian realises he’s in trouble about half-way through fifth period. The pulsing pain in his side is distracting enough on its own, but when he chances a glance beneath his blazer, he finds that the right side of his white shirt is starting to stain red over his wound. It’s not bleeding quickly, but it is bleeding. And that is a Major Problem.

“Damian?” Maps leans over toward him while the teacher’s writing on the board. Usually Damian is thankful to have a friend in his class, but today he just wishes to be left alone. “Are you okay? You look kinda pale.”

“I’m fine,” Damian replies stiffly, pressing his arm tightly against his side. It hurts more, but the pressure might help stem the slowly oozing blood.

Maps clearly doesn’t believe him, but Ms Carlisle turns back around to address the class before she can push the issue. Damian has never been more grateful for strict teachers with droning voices because it means he can zone out in peace until the bell ringing startles him back into awareness. Kids are already trickling out of the classroom and Damian joins the back of the mob, keeping close to the wall and trying to avoid the passing bags and limbs which bump his side until he can duck into the closest bathroom.

He fumbles his phone out of his pocket as soon as he’s in the relative privacy of one of the toilet stalls. Even if he had the necessary materials, the wound is at an angle that would be too hard to stitch back up himself. As loathe as he is to admit it, he’s going to need help.

Todd answers with a curt, “Aren’t you supposed to be in school, short fry?”

Damian takes a deep, calming breath to overcome the irritation the nickname stirs up before admitting, “I need your help.

There’s a beat of silence then Todd sighs. ”Your wound reopened, didn’t it?

“Can you pick me up?” Damian asks instead of answering what is clearly a rhetorical question.

The older boy grumbles but he promises to pick him up about a block from the school in twenty minutes. 

Damian feels obtrusive loitering on the sidewalk in his Gotham Academy blazer, but he can hardly take it off with his shirt in the state it is. When Todd finally shows up he’s driving an old red Nissan instead of the usual motorcycle. Damian slides carefully into the passenger seat with a quiet sigh, tipping his head back and staring out the window as they merge back onto the road.

“Well?”

Damian glances away from the traffic. “Well what?”

“How bad is it?” Todd asks.

“Oh.” He pulls the blazer away from his side to reveal the growing patch of red. 

“Uh. It’s not that bad.”

Todd glances down at the wound then swears, eyes snapping up to glare at Damian before refocusing on driving when a horn blares loudly behind them.

“How the fuck did you manage that sitting in a classroom?”

“It didn’t happen in a classroom,” Damian snaps. “And it wasn’t my fault.”

“Of course it wasn’t,” Todd mutters.  He flicks on his indicator to move into the right lane and it’s only then that Damian realises they’re heading out of the city.

“Where are we going?” he asks suspiciously.

“Take a wild guess.”

“You promised you wouldn’t!” Damian accuses, because between the direction they’re travelling and Todd’s tight grip on the steering wheel it’s not hard to figure it out.

Todd rolls his eyes. “Welcome to the real world, kid, where promises mean jack shit,” he snaps. But a second later his lips twist in a grimace and when he glances over his eyes are almost apologetic. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? But if you’ve done more damage to that wound, I’m so not qualified to fix it. Alfred would'a caught on eventually anyway - if he hasn’t already. Just think of it as… delaying the inevitable.”

Damian crosses his arms and sulks the whole drive back to the Manor. He’d gone to Todd for help in confidence and this is how he’s replayed for his trust? He clenches his teeth, mouth stretching in a silent snarl. See if he ever helped the Red Hood again!

(Five weeks later, Red Hood drops in on a fight that Robin is not losing thank you very much. He gets a bullet graze on his thigh for his troubles. Damian makes sure to ignore his bitching with extreme obnoxiousness as he drags him back to the Cave to be stitched up. Todd glares at him as Alfred stitches the injury. Damian just smirks.)

Cheerleader || Jughead Jones

Prompt from anon: Hi ! Could you possibly write an imagine, where the reader is a part of those ‘popular kids’ clique and river vixens, but she is very kind and helpful, and Jughead had a huge crush on her, but he always thinks he don’t have a chance, but one day, when he comes to a football game just to look at her performance, she notices him, and invite him to a date ? ^^

A/N: Thanks for sending this prompt in! It was a fun one to write!

Gif by @matthewsjosh

—————

You had talked him once. One time! 

Jughead groaned as he sat back in the booth at Pop’s. For the second time ever, he couldn’t write. His mind was filled with thoughts of you and the first time he saw you. It was also the first time he couldn’t focus enough to continue writing his novel.

It happened last month during English class. Jughead had gotten to class early (as he usually did) so he could work on his writing. He gave a quick nod to his teacher before sitting in his seat, pulling his laptop out and starting to write. He had just started focusing on what he was writing when you came in.

“Hi, Mr. Butler,” you said. “I’m here to take that quiz I missed Friday?”

Jughead’s heart stopped when he saw you. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen in his entire life. 

Why hadn’t he seen you before? 

You must’ve been in the afternoon class.

“Sure, Ms. L/N,”  your teacher said, pulling out the quiz. “You can take a seat in front of Jughead there.” he said, pointing to Jughead.

Jughead stiffened in his chair as you made your way over to him.

“Hi!” you said, smiling brightly as you took a seat in front of him.

Jughead could only manage a quiet,

“Hello.”

“Do you have a pencil I could borrow?” you asked.

Jughead willed his frozen body to move as he dug through his backpack, looking for a pencil. He gave you the only one he had, the rattiest pencil anyone had ever seen, but you took it gratefully with a sweet,

“Thank you.”

The rest of the period, Jughead couldn’t focus. He couldn’t will himself to write. By the time the bell rang, Jughead realized he had stared off into space for forty minutes, just thinking about you and the fact that you were sitting in front of him. You turned around again, giving Jughead back his pencil.

“Thanks again,” you said as you got up. “I appreciate it.” 

“No problem.” Jughead croaked back.

“Ms. L/N.” your teacher called.

You turned back to him.

“You excited for the game on Saturday?”

You nodded furiously.

“Of course!” you chirped. “The Vixens and I have been practicing nonstop.” you said before launching into a whole story about what happened the other day during cheerleading practice.

Jughead however had zoned out. His heart had fallen when you said that you were a River Vixen. Of course you were. Why wouldn’t you be? He sighed as he sat back in his chair, knowing he had no chance with you. Girls like you didn’t go out with guys like him. It’s just not how it worked.

Jughead sighed, the memory fading away. That was the only time he had ever spoken to you. He caught glimpses of you in the hallway after that but in general, your contact was pretty limited. Realizing he wasn’t going to get any writing done, he closed his laptop with a heavy sigh and looked at his watch.

7:57.

His eyes popped open. The game started in three minutes! Jughead quickly put his stuff away before rushing out of the diner. His bag flopped around as he ran all the way to the high school, arriving just after the coin toss. He made his way around the bleachers and leaned back on them, catching his breath.

Since that day in class and despite the fact that Jughead knew you would never go out with him, Jughead had attended all your games at home and away (getting rides from Archie when needed and lamely making up excuses about having to write about football games for the Blue & Gold.) All these games and he couldn’t find the courage to talk to you. Jughead Jones III had fallen in love with you, and he had fallen hard.

He heard the whistle of the referee as the game began, but his eyes were only on you. The first two quarters flew by as he watched you cheer, feeling like he was watching an angel. When the whistle was blown again, signaling the end of the second quarter and the beginning of halftime, you looked over at him.

You caught Jughead’s gaze and he quickly looked away, embarrassed.

Damnit.

He saw you say something quickly to your friends before you began making your way over to him. Jughead froze and his heart nearly stopped as his brain screamed at him,

“No! You idiot! Why did you have to look at her?! Great. Just great.”

Jughead wanted to run away but he was frozen in place. He was trapped. He was swallowed the lump in his throat as you got closer and closer to him. The only thing he could manage to do was clear his throat and cross his arms, looking down.

“Hey!” you said, beaming as you reached the raven-haired teen.

Jughead blushed deeply.

That wasn’t what he was expecting.

“Hello.” he said softly.

Despite his shyness, your beaming smile didn’t falter.

“Jughead, right?” you asked.

Jughead nodded. His felt his heart picking up speed and his breath leave his body as he looked at you. You were stunning.

“Yeah, that’s me.” he said, finding his voice.

You smiled softly at the shy teenager.

“Well, um, I was wondering…” you began.

Jughead looked up at you at your change of tone. 

Why were you so nervous?

“I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go on a date sometime?” you asked hopefully.

Jughead’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

Wait, what?!

“I-I understand if you don’t want to—”

“No!” Jughead blurted out.

You rose your eyebrows at his outburst and smirked.

“Uh,” Jughead began, clearing his throat again. “I-I’d love to.”

You began beaming again and Jughead found himself smiling bashfully.

“Great! Pop’s? After the game tonight? We can walk there together?” you offered.

Jughead nodded.

“Yeah, sounds good.” he said.

The whistle blew and you looked back towards your cheer squad. You turned back to Jughead.

“I gotta go warm up for the next quarter, but I’ll see you afterwards, okay?” you asked as you began to make your way back.

Jughead nodded again.

“I’ll be here!” he said.

You giggled before jogging off back to your squad. Jughead looked down and smiled.

He couldn’t believe it. He was really going on a date with you! He looked at the countdown clock. Two quarters and ¾ of a halftime to go. He sighed and leaned back against the bleachers again. 

It was going to be the longest wait of his life.

—————

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed! Send feedback!

Taglist

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