normal highschool au

Bus rides and day dreams..

This was my full piece for @tododekuworldszine ! Please check out their tumblr for all the other wonderful works <3 Thanks so much to the amazing organizers, artists, and writers who made this zine possible. It was such a fun ride and im so thankful!

run away (but not from me)

simon and baz are on the track team together. tw: homophobia, homophobic slurs, cursing.

Simon couldn’t deny it. No matter how much he loved feeling the oxygen rush in and out of his lungs, the wind whip against his face, the tight pull of his hair strung back with a rubber band, the burning in his calves, there was one thing he loved the most about running track, and that was winning. The moment when he passed someone a few paces in front of him just before he crossed the finish line, his thresh hold of glory, was the most exhilarating experience he’d found so far in his seventeen year life. Sweat dripped down his forehead and pooled above his brow bone as he bore down into the final sprint, eyes locked on the blue-jerseyed runner in front of him. The only person between him and first place. The only person between him and his next blue ribbon.

He forgot he was running when this happened, forgot he was breathing, forgot he was moving or hurting or even alive. It was just him and Blue Jersey, fighting for the title. It was no longer about a place in the next run, because the top ten got to advance. It was a primal need somewhere deep in Simon’s head, and he needed victory more than he needed the air he was sucking in deeper and deeper with every second.

Simon was gaining on him with every second until they were running steady with each other, shoulder to shoulder. For a second, there was an air of cameraderie, a shared moment of brotherhood. The briefest acknowledgement that they both deserved this. But then Simon took off even faster than before, because no matter who deserved first, only one person could have it, and it was going to be him.

He collapsed onto the ground seconds after his feet flew over the finish line, clutching his stomach as he hurled up his lunch into the bushes. The vaguest remnants of a grilled cheese sandwich and a red Powerade splattered onto the ground, and Simon heard Blue Jersey rush past him and collapse similarly, coughing like a smoker. Two more people passed, and Simon didn’t move, hands still pressed against his stomach in pain. Then he felt long, bony fingers massaging his shoulders, and he knew Baz had crossed the finish line.

“I’m going to regionals, Simon! We’re going together!” Baz celebrated behind him, panting, and Simon managed a weak nod. “Fifth place, can you believe it?”

“You did great, Baz,” Simon breathed, forcing himself up from the ground and wiping his mouth on the shoulder of his t-shirt. “Coach is gonna be thrilled. You must’ve beat your best time.”

“I’m sure I did,” Baz agreed, taking a few steps forward and plunging his arm deep into the water cooler. “Want one?”

Simon nodded. Baz handed him a water, ice cold and dripping, and Simon uncapped it and poured half of it on the top of his head, letting it run in rivulets down the back of his neck and his face. Then he drained the bottle and crumpled it up, tossing it back into the cooler.

“Better?” Baz asked, sipping his water. His breath was mostly back by now, but Simon was still heaving.

“Yeah, much. Let’s go find a spot to watch the girls’ race.”


When Simon entered the bus for the ride back to school, he was met with cheers. The bus was already mostly full, and Baz waved from the back. “Our champ!” Simon heard as he passed by seats, meandering toward Baz. “First place winner, once again!”

The entire vehicle stank like teenage boys and BO, but it was a party. They made toasts with their water bottles, crankled up the music so loud on Dev’s Bluetooth speaker that it blew out and broke, and generally gave the bus driver a run for his money. Who could blame them? They hadn’t taken more than one person to regionals in years, hadn’t had a runner like Simon on the team in far longer than that.

It was dark when they pulled into the parking lot, teeming with the cars of parents here to pick up their kids. Coach Davy stood up at the front of the bus and quieted them all by raising his hands. “Listen guys,” he began. “I’d just like to say how proud I am of all of you, even the ones who didn’t make it into the top ten. We’ve had a fantastic year and I’m looking forward to taking four runners this year. But our work isn’t over yet. Remember, the practice schedule for the next two weeks is rigorous and not flexible. Especially for the regionals runners, you must show up to every practice unless you’ve got a doctors note. That’s all! Have a good night.” He sat down, making way for the flood of teens to exit the bus.

Simon and Baz lagged back and pretended to collect their things while the others filed off. “You coming home with us tonight?” Simon asked Baz.

“I was planning on it, yeah.” Baz slung his bag over his shoulderand stood up, taking his place at the end of the line.

“My room’s a mess,” Simon warned. He stood behind Baz and wrapped his hands around Baz’s backpack straps, tugging. Baz snickered.

“You’re a mess, Snow,” he replied. Baz reached behind his back and found Simon’s hand fleetingly. He gave it a gentle squeeze before retracting and shoving his hands back into his sweatshirt pockets. The line began to move.


In the passenger seat of his dad’s beat up Sedan, Simon listened for the millionth time to the Humility Speech. “Yes, you’re good, but that doesn’t mean you’re invincible, you hear me? You hear me?” Baz stifled a laugh in the back as Davy’s voice grew more and more urgent. “Simon Oliver, are you listening to me? You are not the king of the track. One of these days you’re gonna lose if you don’t take this shit seriously. You missed three days of practice this month. That’s unacceptable. You’re not a god, Simon. Do you understand? You don’t get a full ride for a second place title.”

This was a routine for Simon- run, win, take Baz home, get the Humility Speech, force feed himself pasta (for the carbs), early morning practice with Baz, rinse, repeat. That was what Davy thought at least.

Here’s how the routine really went- run, win, take Baz home, laugh his way through the Humility Speech, feed Baz half his pasta, make out sessions until it got light out, cuddling until five in the morning, pretending to go for an early morning run and really taking Baz out for early breakfast at the diner, where all the waitresses knew their names and orders. Rinse. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat.

Davy finished talking a minute before their driveway appeared, and Simon felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He checked it, amused that it was Baz’s name on the screen. He’s finally done, eh?

For now.

As if you’d forgotten since your last race

Lmao, Simon typed back. Can’t wait til he goes to bed ;)

And why would that be?

Because I want to celebrate ;)

Quit it with the wink faces, Si. I feel like I’m talking to a preteen who just copped his first feel. Lol.

Simon chuckled, then tucked the phone back into his pants pocket as they pulled up the drive. Gravel crunched underneath the car tires, and it scratched to a stop at the top. Simon’s house sat on a hill. It was dark brown, with warm yellow light coming from the living room windows and illuminating the well-manicured lawn. It wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small. A good size for a single father and his son. In the front there was a small, sickly looking crabapple tree that Davy had been trying to tear up for years. Simon would never let him.

They carted their bags up the porch stairs. The inside of the house smelled like pulled pork, and Simon realized how hungry he was. He’d forgotten that Davy had prepared something in the crock pot. The smell made his stomach growl. “Let’s put our bags up in my room and eat, shall we?” Simon asked Baz.

“Sounds like a plan.”

The stairs were shiny hardwood, and the upstairs floor was small, with only a bathroom and Simon’s room. The door was already ajar, and sure enough, the room looked as if it hadn’t been cleaned in several months. “Simon,” Baz chastised. “I just helped you tidy this place up last time I was over.”

“You know how I get, Basil,” Simon protested, throwing his bag onto his full sized mattress and rumpling up the blankets. He tossed his sweaty sneakers into a corner and grabbed a shirt off the floor to change into.

“Glasses?” Baz asked, plucking them from the hazardous mess of Simon’s vanity and shutting the door with his foot.

“Sure,” Simon said, slipping his jersey over his head. He let it fall to the floor, like everything else already was, then stepped toward Baz to retrieve the glasses.

“Allow me,” Baz smirked, slipping the glasses onto Simon’s face and settling them onto his nose. He leaned his head down and pressed his forehead against Simon’s, closing his eyes. Simon’s hands wound around Baz’s trim waist and danced their way up the hem of his shirt, fingers pressing against the knobbly joints of Baz’s spine, and their lips met, soft as spring rain.

The kiss was gentle, and they enjoyed it for itself, as it wasn’t going to lead to anything else at the moment. Baz tasted like peppermint gum and he smelled like cedar and bergamot, his signature cologne. Simon ran his tongue quickly over Baz’s bottom lip, then pulled away, grinning like a fool.

“We should get downstairs,” he whispered, but then one of Baz’s hands was cold and sure against Simon’s chest, tracing down to his stomach, and the other was knotted in his golden hair, and his brain took a flying leap out the window.

“Few more seconds,” Baz mumbled, pressing a lazy kiss to the space behind Simon’s ear. “Few more minutes.” Their chests pressed together and they kissed again, longer, with a strained kind of urgency that knew it couldn’t last long.

“I love you,” Simon said to Baz, tugging at a loose tendril of hair that had fallen around his dark, angular face. He kissed Baz’s cheek, then his nose, then his lips again, and Baz leaned, mindless, into Simon’s touch.

“Simon,” Davy called out, flinging open the door. “You forgot your-”

The gym bag Davy held fell to the floor. Baz immediately disentangled from Simon’s arms and flung himself back onto the bed, but it was too late. The door slammed shut, and all Simon could do was cry.


Hitchhiking was never a smart idea, even as a 6’ 1" eighteen year old man, but Baz needed a ride home, which Davy had not-so-gracefully declined to give him. His fahter was away on business and Daphne was visiting her sister, so here he found himself, late at night, wandering down the road with his thumb up. Cars passed him, but none stopped. And then it began to drizzle.


Davy had nothing to say, Simon surmised. That was the way it seemed, because they hadn’t spoken in days. He’d missed practice to stay after and do schoolwork just to avoid his father twice already, and he had no intentions of going today.

“You can’t let him push you away from what you love,” Baz told Simon at lunch, hooking his ankle around Simon’s under the table. “Running is what you were made for.”

“I can’t be around him. He’s got this dead look in his eyes Baz, you don’t understand. He hasn’t said a word to me. I’m nothing. I could win the national title for Christs’ sake, he wouldn’t give a shit.” He pushed the spaghetti on his tray around with his plastic fork. For the first time he could remember, Simon had no appetite.

“Look, Si, your dad is being a huge dick, but that doesn’t mean you have to stop living. Running is what you love best. Everyone knows that. Please go to practice. For me?”

“I can’t, Baz. I can’t face him.” The bell rang, and Simon got up from the table without meeting Baz’s gaze. “I hope you can understand.” He dumped his tray and went to class. Baz watched him go.


The crowd at regionals was wild for a track meet. Simon hadn’t practiced in two weeks, had barely spoken to Baz. He seemed to be a husk, going through the motions. They’d just sit there in silence when they were alone, Simon crying, Baz holding on as tight as he could to Simon’s hand, for fear he might lose him if he let go. But today was the big day, and Simon couldn’t miss it. This was his moment. Baz was determined to get him there.

He skipped out on the team bus ride, instead electing to drive his own car over to Simon’s after he knew the rest of the team had left and taken Coach Davy with them. When Baz honked the horn, Simon emerged, bleary-eyed and in pajamas, on the porch. Baz beeped again, to the tune of Jingle Bells, and Simon smiled. “Get in, babe. You’ve got a race to win.”


Simon denied that he wanted to race, but Baz knew he wouldn’t have gotten in the car if he didn’t secretly need it. When they arrived to the packed venue, he was practically shaking with anticipation. Simon shrugged out of his dirty sweatshirt and slipped on his jersey, tied his hair back. Baz recognized the determined gleam in his eye. “You ready to get out there and show them how it’s done?” Baz asked.

“I’m not wearing uniform shorts,” Simon protested. “And I haven’t run in weeks.”

“Who gives a shit?” Baz countered. And honestly? Didn’t that just sum up everything. Simon kissed Baz, slow and deep, then exited the car.

“Let’s fuck shit up.”



“Fag.” Simon heard it first from behind him, just a whisper. He whipped his head around, but it was impossible to tell who had said it. He and Baz had walked to their spots holding hands.

“Who gives a shit,” Simon muttered to himself, a personal mantra. “Who gives a shit, who gives a shit.”

“Faggot. Fucking queer.”



“Who gives a shit? Who gives a shit? Who the fuck cares?” Simon was yelling now, glaring all around him.


It was Blue Jersey. The insults were emanating from him, and he grinned, until Simon caught him in the act.

“Think you can throw me off my game? Well you know what, asshole?” Simon hissed menacingly, face flushed. He got up close to the kid’s face, almost nose to nose, and stared him down. “This faggot’s gonna win the regionals first place title. And you’re gonna fucking watch.”

Blue Jersey gulped.


The gunshot seemed louder than ever, but Simon didn’t hesitate a second as the sound reverberated in his ears. His feet pounded against the grass. He had more energy than he’d ever had at the beginning of a race. His anger fueled him as he thundered through the crowd of boys, clearing a path straight for the front. He flipped off Blue Jersey on the way, smiling, sickly sweet, as he took his rightful place at the head of the pack. He didn’t slow down one step.


This time, there was no competition.

Simon lead the runners with a wide berth. His legs went miles in a single stride, his lungs were open gulleys swallowing air by the ton. He was a god, and holy fucking shit, it felt good to be unbreakable.

“I’m made of fucking diamonds, you can’t touch me,” he panted as the finish line came into view. “I am fucking invinceable. Who gives a shit?” He was practically screaming now, every muscle in his body on fire, every inch of him drenched in sweat but it wasn’t sweat, it was liquid fucking gold and he was crossing, he was first, he was the winner, he was raising his arms for the crowd and they screamed his name, he was laughing, he was smiling, he was descended from Mount fucking Olympus and Baz was a king and when Baz came in second, they kissed in front of everyone. And maybe there was a collective gasp, and maybe Davy held his head in his hands, and maybe Blue Jersey cried when he got home. But you know what? Who gives a shit.

A preview/crop of my piece for @tododekuworldszine!! I’m so excited to see this project come together with so many talented creators ; u;; The preorders for the zine will open mid January if you’re interested!

How about.... non-hope's peak and despair highschool au with the guys and their s/o? Like, in a normal highschool au where the guys have an s/o. Yeah. Nailed it.



  • He’s one of the ‘popular’ kids, so things can be a bit,,,different 
  • there’s constantly girls at his feet, and boys dirty talking him
  • and you’re just there, not wanting any of it 
  • he walks you to all of your classes, the two of you have lunches together 
  • he sits beside you, wanting you to be within arms reach
  • dates have a 40% chance of being interrupted by some bitch at school
  • it does get you down a lot…with him being so perfect
  • if he ever catches you saying something negative he’d do whatever it took to make you know that he just whats you
  • w h a t e v e r  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
  • when the two of you are alone, on a bench or something, he’d put his head on your lap and just lie there 
  • He loves working together on projects with you
  • most of the PDA happens in private, away from prying eyes
  • honestly the best boyfriend holy 


  • he’s that kid that’s like popular but not at the same time??
  • he’s a complicated boy
  • he’ll throw a tantrum if you aren’t in the same class as him
  • he’s so needy and whinny, not wanting to be at school
  • and sometimes, he just-
  • isn’t there? for like? this one class?
  • but he aces the tests?
  • who is he 
  • he loves everyone to know that you are his and you two are in fact a thing 
  • he stood up on the lunch tables and would not shut up about it
  • but most of the emotional stuff is kept for private uses 
  • cougH


  • he would much rather you two keep the details about your relationship a secret, he’s not comfortable at ALL
  • you’re classes are all with him, so he isn’t left alone 
  • so it’s pretty natural when you and him are together constantly 
  • if he gets teased, you’re there to fight back for him
  • he’s eternally grateful
  • he’s always afraid when you ask for something, like a hug in public 
  • he really really doesn’t want anyone to know
  • you have to be the one to open him up a bit more 
  • eventually, he’ll feel comfortable calling you his girlfriend
  • but that takes time
  • but you will happily wait 


  • he’s like that mysterious person that no one talks to but everyone knows 
  • He prefers to not have classes with you, you’d distract him
  • he won’t complain if he is with you though
  • he likes to keep most of the PDA to a minimum
  • however, he needs to mark his territory somehow ;)
  • he’ll do things like holding hands, definitely 
  • he just thinks that love should be sacred, and kept in private  
  • He looks very different without his usual mask….it makes you want to laugh
  • but overall, really standard dating with a bit of spice


  • he hates school. period.
  • he finds it suuuuper boring 
  • he relies on you for notes a lot, which is frustrating 
  • you have to drag him out of bed each day, which is also frustrating!
  • you basically have to threaten to break up with him before he does anything by himself 
  • he barely scrapes by with passing grades
  • when he goes to relax for the weekend, he’s met with you
  • oh shit
  • you tell him to get his lazy ass to do work before you kick it to Uranus
  • yikes
  • so needless to say, he does it 
  • He likes showing PDA a bit, but not full out tongue licking 
  • he thinks he’s a cool kid
  • he’s not
  • rip


  • He’s the most normal out of all the guys (besides being slightly emo)
  • he does enjoy if he has classes with you, but he understands that he can’t be with you all the time…
  • he sits politely across or beside you at lunch 
  • he will give you food if you ask, he can’t pass up your requests
  • if you ask, he’s going to do it 
  • he wants to please you as a boyfriend!
  • he does his homework, and studies which is good, the two of you study together 
  • you have to tell him to break, he overworks himself a lot 
  • he enjoyed just being with you, whether its at school or not


  • he intimidates people, which means not having to worry about bullies 
  • but then…no one talks to him
  • it’s pretty sad
  • he does his best in school! really!
  • but things just don’t click with him…
  • he’d much rather spend his time with bugs or nature…
  • he’s too pure to do any heavy PDA, just light kisses and hand holding 
  • You end up having to help him with homework, it becomes a study date for you two
  • …unfortunately it ends pretty quickly as he just can’t seem to do it 
  • biology is his favorite (duh)
  • he’s REALLY good at it 
  • he’s fine at letting people know that you two are a think
  • : D


  • He’s that kid that everyone thinks is a drug addict and everyone knows that they’re gonna fail
  • he really doesn’t care about school, but he still goes to classes 
  • he just isn’t very social
  • he keeps to himself, besides if you’re with him
  • he sits in a singular corner at lunch, just there
  • he does ok on tests and such 
  • he won’t do PDA. nope
  • he keeps your relationship out of school 
  • just in case
  • he still hangs out whit you though! he just doesn’t do kisses or hugs 
Normal Highschool TUC au
  • Howard is the “mom friend”
  • Luxa is a major feminist , as well as a lgbt and animal rights activist
  • Gregor does cross-country
  • Luxa plays basketball, or some kind of spot with defense and offense
  • Mareth is the “no homo” dude who is very, very gay
  • Luxa will annihilate someone if they are blatantly rude to her friends
  • Mareth fake flirts with his friends and calls them “bro” all of the time
  • Luxa is a huge nerd
  • Nerissa is extremely intelligent, but she rarely speaks up in class
  • Nerissa is especially good in English class
  • Dulcet is that person who is super nice and never excludes anyone and go out of her way to be kind, but touch her loved ones and she and Luxa will destroy the person
  • Mareth tries to make it seem like he cares more about sports than school, but he doesn’t
  • Howard loves science
  • Howard also likes medical crap
  • Howard gets very excited about both of these things
  • Howard will get a maniac glint in his eyes and will grin and jump around whenever he talks about something he likes
  • Luxa is the queen of sarcasm, sass, and arrogance
  • Luxa is punk-hipster
  • Dulcet is hipster
  • Gregor slaps on the first things he sees in his closet & is very casual
  • Nerissa tends to go for an elegant but comfortable style
  • Dulcet and Luxa are those really close friends that you can’t tell if they’re dating or not
  • Gregor is incredibly awkward, especially at prom
  • Gregor is the type of guy that will do just about anything you dare him to do
  • Luxa is usually smirking or scowling
  • Everyone is afraid of angry Luxa, but when Dulcet is angry, everyone is terrified


  • All six of them are very close
  • They have random, surprise sleepovers 
  • The sleepovers are either karaoke and dance contests and board games that Gregor always looses and Nerissa always wins, and it ends with them rolling on the floor laughing and eating five gallons of ice cream
  • Or long movie marathons with Nerissa making comments about how unrealistic it is, and Howard quoting every line and Gregor falling asleep halfway and drooling on Luxa or Mareth
  • Or it’s just really crazy and random
Solangelo Highschool AU

„I accidentally took your notebook, because I thought it was mine and you have a really nice handwriting and cute doodles” AU

>>Hey Will, can you lend me the notes you took in English? I overslept and missed the class. <<

Lou Ellen asked him with a begging look on her face. As if Will could resist the puppy look on the face of his best friends. He started to search for his English notebook and accidentally grabbed a black one which he didn’t recognize as his. He took it out and started observing it.

>>Will? What is it? << Lou Ellen asked.

>>I don’t think this is mine, but it was in my backpack… <<

He opened it and started flipping through the pages. He stopped at one page where he though he recognize a face or something. His eyes widened when his mind told him what he was seeing. On the page were several doodles of himself and some of them were really cute. Like the one with the flower crown or the one with the cat ears. Oh gods who drew these. Will blushed a little when he read the notes on the side.

Why can’t you just hold me, Mr. Perfect? ~

>>Seems like someone’s taken an interest in you, Sweetie! << Lou Ellen exclaimed when she caught a glance on the page, Will was looking at. Will shot her a glare, which was not quite effective because of the rosy colour that started to spread on his cheek.

Will flipped to the very first page, hoping he would find a name. And he did.

Nico di Angelo

Was written there, in the prettiest handwriting Will had ever seen.

>>Isn’t that the goth from your biology class? << His best friend asked curiously as she wiggled her eyebrows.

>>I guess… << Will answered with a smile creeping on his face.

He always thought, the black haired teenage boy was kind of cool. Eventually he evolved a teny tiny chrush on the smaller one.

Well, I can give it back to him tomorrow in biology. Will thought to him.

Next day

Will was tired as hell. He had dark circles under his eyes and yawned every five seconds.

>>Are you sure your fine, William? << Annabeth Chase asked him as she sat down beside him when their math lesson started.

>>I’m fine, just read too long last night. <<

>>Good books always have that magic. <<Annabeth chuckled dreamy.

Will smirked as he thought about last night. Well, he was occupied by reading, but not by a good book, but by the notebook of that di Angelo kid. Nico seemed to like observing people in his classes, because he scribbled notes on the personality of certain people in this book. Will was surprised how accurate they were, especially the ones on himself, considering that Will and Nico had never talked in any way. Sometimes he also sketched a few people. Will thought, that Nico had a lot of talent. He loved the sketches and short doodles. Mostly the ones about him.

As he thought about the notebook and Nico, Will dozed off and was brought back into reality only by the bell, which told him to go to his next lesson.

Biology Will sighed.

He would have to return that notebook and he didn’t want that. He liked reading about Nicos vision of him.

When he walked in his classroom he spotted Nico immediately. The kid was staring out of the window, noticing nothing around him.

Will started walking towards him.

>>Hey Death-Boy. <<

Nico raised one eyebrow as he turned his head towards Will.

Will took the notebook out of his backpack and held it in front of the other teens face.

Nicos eyes widened and he snatched the notebook out of Wills hand, as a small blush rose to his cheek, combined with a not-that-effective death glare. Will gave short laugh and added:

>>I loved the sketches and notes about me by the way. << He winked at Nico and started walking to his seat, but was stopped by a small hand pulling him back.

>>Not only did you invade my privacy, by flipping through my notebook but you also made me fail my psychology test by stealing my notes, << the raven-haired teen growled at him >> you owe me an apology. <<

Will, caught off guard for a second, smirked at him.

>>I get it. I get it. What about coffee after school? My treat, of course. <<

Nico hesitated for a second, but soon loosened the grip on Wills arm.

>>Fine. <<

Will overwhelmed with happiness nearly screamed, but pulled himself together at the last second.

He brought himself down and leaned towards Nicos ear, making sure he brushed it with his lips slightly.

>>If I treat you to coffee, maybe you can tell me what Io lo desidero means? << Will whispered, almost moaned in his ear. 
Of course Will already looked it up last night.He knew that Nico knew that, the second he saw Nico starting to blush furiously.
As he walked towards his seat he kept the image of a furiously blushing and glaring Nico , not daring to look behind him.
This would be an interesting afternoon


I did a thing ! Hope u like the thing <:
I do not own those beautiful dorks ~