#so let me tell you about my Amis in Community College/ Community Classes AU--- *is pulled offstage by a giant comedy hook*

[pilferingapples]

the only Amis who have to Actually Care about their studies are the med students

all the rest are on a sliding scale from 'we don't actually know if they're even in college' to ' actively resisting the college they are enrolled in like they've been dumped behind enemy lines'

they are shit terrible students and that is actually canon

#Marius is a good student. #Marius is square as hell. #this is actually a part of the setup that i think is really hard to graft onto the US modern setting #college is so massively different now #it's expensive there are so many Requirements it's so hostile to like. Life. #why would most of them even be there #being a Good Student has absolutely no correlation with Being Intelligent or Being a Good Person or Overthrowing the Government #and it's less and less of a Given that even middle class kids will attend #so let me tell you about my Amis in Community College/ Community Classes AU--- *is pulled offstage by a giant comedy hook*

[peralta-guaranteed]

What abkut mafia!jake au

Stop giving me awesome AU ideas that I cannot write the fic for! 😭

- due to some really, really bad choices after high school (did he ever make other ones? who knows), Jake Peralta has ended up as a grunt for the Ianucci family. He doesn’t really do much - he’s mostly someone who gathers information and new areas for them to work in, because he’s good at randomly befriending people and milking them for all it’s worth. He’s done a few ‘deliveries’, too, but has never had to really get physical.

- (he was at one family meeting that turned into the ‘farewell’ of a mistrusted member and he still has nightmares about it)

- he’s never been arrested for anything and thought the police didn’t even know his name, so imagine his surprise when he’s approached by one of their higher-ups (as if he knows the rankings, psh, pigs are all the same) and subtly but definitely asked if he would be willing to work with them

- his task seems simple: bring one of their cops into the family undercover, the same way he has ‘recruited’ several bodega owners and other ‘low-skill’ workers that turned out to be useful for the family. Maybe keep an eye on the cop as well and help her out if she’s struggling

- she? oh yeah, it’s a woman. A frankly gorgeous woman, he realises when they meet up with her and some FBI dude who obviously pretends he’s not FBI, to discuss it all further. Her name is ‘Dora’, and he knows that’s a lie from the second she’s introduced, but the less he knows, probably the better. The rules are set, he gets a special cellphone number of a ‘cousin’ to contact if something goes wrong, and two weeks later Dora Perez is steadily working her way up the ranks with the Ianuccis, who are very proud of Jake for bringing in this brilliant new talent.

- He might or might not be looking out for her a little bit too much. He might or might not get involved in far more shady dealings with the Iannuccis so he can work closer with her. He might or might not be in deep, deep shit.

- ‘Dora’ is grateful for it, though, he learns every time he drives her home after a more difficult job. She used to be withdrawn and quiet with him, which he tried to equalise by cracking more and more stupid jokes and doing random silly stuff during their drives, but then one time they drive in absolute silence while she cleans blood of her hands, and he says something, he doesn’t remember what, but it’s the right thing apparently, because she starts to talk. She talks to him during every ride after, telling him about the stress and the constant guard she has to keep up and how none of her research binders prepared her for this, and at some point she tells him about nightmares and seeing death around every corner and she can’t wait for this mission to be over.

- (for her sake, he can’t wait for that either. For his sake, he wishes it would go on forever.)

- They’re sent out for a big job together once, because Jake has already become ‘connected’ to Amy in the Ianuccis’ eyes, and they both end up with blood on their hands, and some of it is hers.

- he gets out of the car after that drive home, and gets up to her tiny, fake apartment, and helps her clean the wounds (nothing too big, just cuts, because thank god that guy only had a knife before he beat it out of his hands and then beat the living daylight out of him after he injured her) with the softest fingers she’s ever felt. Then the cleaning alcohol is swapped for drinkable stuff, and they talk, and they talk about everything and nothing, about how a dead-beat dad and an absent mother make a Mafia goon, and how family pressure and a sense of constant duty make a detective who so badly wanted to say no to this assignment but couldn’t.

- “For what it’s worth, Dora, I’m glad you said yes. I mean, not that- not that I want you to do this kind of work- and I want things to be over for you soon, because- but- I’m glad it’s you.” “Amy.” “Hm?” “My name is Amy. Amy Santiago.”

- He wakes up in her bed the next morning, with her in his arms, and he kind of doesn’t regret a single thing, even as his smart-brain is screaming at him. He’s pretty sure he would’ve willingly died for her even before this night, but now, he realises... that he probably will.

- Amy (Amy, not Dora) does freak out a little more than he does when she wakes up. She can’t get involved, she says, this is a job, a dangerous one, and she has to focus on that job and getting the mafia gang and not- okay, okay, let’s not overthink this then, Jake says only to calm her down, we don’t do anything ‘involved’, we’re just... having fun. Keeping things light and breezy. Helping deal with the stress.

- and so, despite how much it hurts and how much it makes him happy at the same time, Jakey the Jew becomes Jakey, Dora’s Loverboy. It helps, he supposes, because it means the Ianuccis won’t suspect them hanging out so much, and send him along to most of her jobs now so he can watch out for her, and he gets to be with her in a way, even as she constantly reiterates ‘light and breezy’ to keep him at a distance no matter how close they get.

- it doesn’t feel very ‘light and breezy’ when they spend time together in front of the TV, though, to get their minds to relax after doing whatever the Ianuccis needed them doing. It doesn’t feel ‘light and breezy’ when they joke around in the bodega getting ice cream on a particularly hot day out doing jobs, or when she shows him around the library after meeting her ‘cousin’ there for a chat. It doesn’t feel ‘light and breezy’ at all when she sighs into his arms when he’s holding her in bed, neither of them even wanting to take the night any further than soft hands under tshirts, because all they really need at some point is the comfort of each other.

- and then one day, after a few months of this ‘light and breezy’ and ‘Dora’s Loverboy’, Jake gets invited for a ‘Talk’ by the family. With a capital T. And he’s not been that high up in the ranks at any point, and he’s not really done much for the family, but he’s not an idiot. He knows what that means. So of course he doesn’t tell Amy, writes her a short but succinct note instead that maybe ends with the L-word somewhere in it, and goes to have a Talk.

- The Ianuccis know that there is a rat, but they don’t know who. And they know that if Jakey is good for one thing, it’s information. So The Talk doesn’t end as quickly as it usually does, and the way he’d expected. It hurts a lot more, for one thing. Jake thinks of offering up some other goon or lower family member as the rat, if only to make the torture stop, but his brain is too broken in the moment to figure out a convincing story. And when the name ‘Perez’ suddenly drops into the conversation, there’s really only one other name he can still think of clearly to blame. Peralta.

- he doesn’t remember much after that - he’s pretty sure he heard gunshots, but none of them hit him, so what’s the deal with that? Everything else is pretty much a blur of pain and cold, and lots of shouting, and then warm soft hands on his face and a quiet voice saying his name amidst it all, and when he wakes up the next time he’s in a hospital bed.

- He’s in that hospital bed for two weeks to recover, and no one visits him. Not that it should be surprising - Nana is dead, his mom doesn’t know about anything he’s done since the age of 18 for a reason, and there’s no one else who in their right mind should care to visit him. So imagine his surprise when a detective shows up, introduces herself as Rosa Diaz, and explains that she’s Amy’s partner at work, but she’s not here for official business.

- “She wanted to come see you. Hell, she fought tooth and nail for it. But she had to be debriefed, stupid FBI assholes, and then it turned out two of the Ianuccis got away, so we had to find them first to make sure they don’t go after her for revenge” (well that explains the constant patrols in the hospital for him, as well) “and we had to hide her for her safety, but, Jake, she wanted to come see you. I swear.” “It’s okay.” Jake says, and it’s really not, but he’s been a brilliant liar for years now. “You can tell her... it’s okay. The job is done, and I’m, I’m glad she’s finally got it over and past her. Really. Tell her it’s okay.”

- He’s debriefed by the FBI after he gets discharged, as well. They tell him ‘good job’ and ‘thanks’ and pay him a surprisingly large amount of money and cover his hospital bills, so that’s good. They also advise that he move, not far, but far enough that any possible leftover scragglers of the family don’t remember his old place for a ‘visit’. So he moves, a few blocks only, enough to get a new favourite bodega and deli and discover that the library is actually nearby and that there’s this community college that Amy kept talking about for some reason, and if he takes a few classes to finally get a degree, it’s not about getting a proper job at some point, it’s more about not thinking about anything else. About maybe forgetting, even if it was her that basically got him where he is now.

- (it does not work)

- she knocks on his door a month later. She looks strange in her professional outfit instead of washed out jeans and a tanktop with a stupid slogan on it, but also so perfectly her. That’s Amy, he thinks, not Dora anymore. That’s Amy, and he still loves her just as much as he did when she was ‘Dora’ in his sweatpants and tshirt. Maybe more.

- “You’re a hard man to find, Peralta.” She says, and he knows that’s a lie, but she smiles with a scared look through it and he takes it for what it is - an attempt at saying anything, really, after 1 1/2 months of silence, when she’s probably got a speech all prepared in her head but needs to get there first. “That’s such a bad, cheesy movie line.” He helps, and she laughs and yeah, that’s all he needs in life. “Well we never watched any good movies, did we.” “Hey, we watched Die Hard. That’s the best movie there is.” She rolls her eyes but nods, and opens her mouth, and Jake thinks that the speech is coming now, but he has no idea what it might entail. Thank you and good bye, maybe. Good job, great work, can you sign this official statement for me so I can add it to my paperwork? possibly. “Screw light and breezy.” She says instead, and then she’s in his new apartment, which is much nicer and cleaner than the old place was even after she worked her magic on it, and she’s kissing him, and he’s never, ever letting her out.

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #headcanon? writing? I dunno anymore #Mafia AU

[sushiburritonoms]

DinLuke 10. high school popular kid/nerd au

I've been sitting on this AU Fic request all week because High School was a long time ago for me and I have no idea what all you young people are doing these days. After talking to Dark, I finally came up with an idea based off what I remember from high school in the 1990s. Hence this is one of the more serious ficlets I've done, but then again I've never thought of the high school genre as a happy one? Unless we're talking about Sailor Moon or something (which trust me I WAS TEMPTED).

10. High school popular kid/nerd AU

Warnings: USA centric, Time period appropriate homophobia, homophobic language, school bullying.

This looked so easy in the movies.

Din squinted at his target, readjusted his stance and after a moment, let the small pebble fly from his hand. It made a graceful arch…and landed on the top of the roof instead of hitting Luke’s second floor bedroom window. Again. He groaned.

“I can’t believe you’re the Captain of the football team.”

Din yelped and spun around. Standing directly behind him was Luke’s twin sister, staring at him with an annoyed expression on her face. She was still dressed in the same white cardigan, pink spaghetti strap tank and skinny jeans he’d seen her in at school, and was carrying her silver JanSport bag on her back and her clarinet case in one hand. If looks could kill, Din would be….well. Not dead, but most likely wounded, since the look Leia Amidala Skywalker was giving him was one of distrust and utter annoyance.

A thousand different excuses flew through Din’s head, in one ear and out the other.  Of all the things he could have said, what actually came out was, “I thought you had Jazz Band today.”  Or was it Model UN? Was it Thursday yet?

“It was cancelled. Ms. Junda is out sick.”  Leia used her free hand to push her glasses further up her nose.  “Why didn’t you just use the front door like a normal person?” She shook her head at him and started to walk towards her front door.

Din hesitated.

Leia looked back and rolled her eyes. “My parents aren’t home. My mom has another fundraiser and my dad got dragged into helping. Doesn’t my parasitic twin tell you anything?”

Din frowned. He took AP Bio and that insult made no sense. “Did you two have another argument?”

Leia gave him an incredulous look. “We never fight.”

Not according to Luke, but Din wisely avoided mentioning that.  “My pager got confiscated,” Din admitted. “It went off during history and Mr. Mundi took it.”

“You could have just talked to him,” Leia said. Then she used the palm of her hand to hit her head. “Oh duh, I forgot. You’re too cool to talk to Wormie and Squirmie at school.”

“Hey!” Din walked over to Leia. “I don’t call you guys that.” He hated Luke and Leia’s stupid nicknames. He couldn’t stand the way the other kids treated the Skywalker twins, especially Fett and his gang of morons.

Leia’s hand jingled as she pulled out her house key. “You don’t stop them,” she said quietly as she turned her back to Din. “It’s pretty much the same thing.”

Din felt his heart drop into his chest.  That wasn’t true. Every time he heard his teammates talking smack about other kids he told them off. But apart from Football practice, he didn’t really spend time talking with Fett and his friends. He was too busy working his afterschool job at Blockbuster and helping his foster mom with the other kids.  “I would,” he protested. “If Fett or anyone else ever said anything to my face about you and Luke, I would smack ‘em.”

Leia side eyed him, with her hand still clutching at her front door. “What about Han? Would you stand up for him?”

“Han Solo?”  Din blinked. The infamous dropout of Coruscant High? “I thought he joined a biker gang?”

That was the wrong thing to say. Leia whirled around. “No he didn’t! What is wrong with you!” She swung her clarinet case at Din and he had to take several steps back. “I don’t know what Luke sees in you, you stupid jock!”

“HEY! Shhh! I’m sorry, I’m sorry ok! Calm down!” Din looked around nervously to see if anyone had heard Leia.  He had no idea what he’d done to piss Luke’s sister off. They’d never had more than a few short conversations with each other ever since Din moved into town two years ago.

“What? You don’t want people to know you’re a homo?” Leia shouted at him. She had tears in her eyes. “You afraid you’ll stop being Mr. Popular if they knew you were a gaylord like Luke? Huh? You thick headed, scruffy looking….Neanderthal!”

“Leia!”

Din and Leia both froze. They hadn’t noticed the front door opening nor noticed Luke until he was standing right in front of them.  His blond hair was all disheveled and he had an ice pack in one hand and the beginnings of an awful black eye on his swollen face. His lip was cut up and there was blood dotting his green t-shirt.

“What happened!” Din blurted out. He pushed past Leia to hover next to Luke. “Who did this?!”

Luke winced and pulled away before Din could touch his face. “I’m fine.  Will you two get in here before you get outed to the entire town?”

Din opened his mouth to reply but was shoved into the doorframe by a furious Leia.  “I didn’t know it was this bad.” She grabbed her brother’s hand and dragged him into their living room.

“I’m fine!” Luke repeated. “How’d you even find out?”

“Amy told me. She saw the fight.” She pulled Luke over to their couch and nudged her brother into sitting. Din quietly closed the door and watched the siblings from a safe distance. Amy must have been Amilyn Holdo, the school’s resident weirdo.  She was one of Leia’s best friends and another frequent target of the meaner kids in their class.

“Ugh Leia, quit it! Did you skip Jazz Band for me?!”  Luke tried to wiggle away from his sister as Leia fussed over his cut lip.

“I thought it was cancelled,” Din frowned.

“That’s what we’re telling my parents,” Leia muttered.  “But I don’t think we can explain this!”

Luke sighed. “You know they won’t even notice.” He sounded so defeated that Din felt a surge of rage at Mrs. Skywalker and her busy city council career.

“Mom’s gonna notice a black eye!” Leia paused. “Eventually.”

Din counted to three just like his foster mother was always telling him to do. “Will someone tell me what the hell happened?!”

Both twins turned to look at him simultaneously, doing that creepy staring thing that made them frequent targets of the school bullies.  “Greedo,” they both said at once.

Ugh. He really liked Luke, but that was just too creepy. It reminded him of the movie Village of the Damned. “Christopher Greedo?”

They both nodded. “He insulted Han,” Luke protested. “Spreading rumors about him and nobody was saying anything.”

OH.  Now Leia’s earlier comments made sense. “You tried to fight Greedo?” Chris Greedo was infamous for his bad temper, a real ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ type of jerk.

“He keeps spreading that stupid biker gang rumor. Nobody knows what really happened to him.” Luke kept clenching and unclenching his fists--which also looked bruised. “I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Din slowly started to approach the twins, keeping one eye on Leia.  She glared at him but still scooted over so that Din could sit next to Luke.

“What really happened?” He asked gently.  He only hesitated for a moment before he reached over and grabbed one of Luke’s bruised hands.

“Han’s old man threw him out.” Leia answered instead of Luke. “He’s been homeless for the last four months.”

“He’s currently living with Chuy Baca’s family on the East Side,” Luke added. “It’s not fair! Han was so close to finally graduating this year but Leia and I can’t convince him to come back.”

“That’s messed up,” Din said as he looked at Leia. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

It felt like he was being judged by Leia as her brown eyes peered into him. “It’s alright,” she said finally. “Now you do.”

There was a whole lot of school politics that Din didn’t understand, even though he’d been living in Coruscant for two years. He knew that Han, Leia and Luke’s nerdy group of friends were low on the social totem pole and by sheer luck Din’s athletic ability meant he was attractive to the popular group that ran the school.  Boba Fett in particular acted like he was some sort of king and because Din was useful to him he had become one of the ‘cool kids’ for the first time in his life.  Boba had some sort of grudge against the Church that Luke’s parents attended (Church of the Sith Eternal or something like that).  The other kids also picked on Leia because she was at the top of their class and Luke because he was gay. It didn't matter that Leia had garnered enough votes from the underclassmen to become the secretary of the Student Council. She wasn’t liked by Boba, so that meant the Juniors and Seniors had it out for her.

Din had tried to stay out of the politics. He had his Senior year and then he was done--he would be finished with school and aged out of the foster care system.  Maybe he’d go community college (if by some miracle he could find the money) but most likely he’d end up in the military like his foster brother Paz.  He had so many other problems to deal with, from helping out his loving but overworked foster mother to his uncertain future. But now as he looked at the horrible bruising on Luke’s face and the tears that still lingered in Leia’s eyes, he realized he was making a huge mistake. Distancing himself from the twins and taking refuge in his own popularity wasn’t right. Somebody had to stand up to the ridiculous bullies of Coruscant High. Starting with that slimy bitch Greedo.

“Easy, Romeo.” Din felt a pillow smack the side of his head and he looked up to see Leia shaking her head at him. “I can feel the bloodlust from here. Punching Greedo in the face isn’t gonna help Luke and you’ll only get yourself detention.”

“I’m fine!” Luke insisted as he gingerly put his ice pack back on his eye. They ignored him.

“He can’t keep getting away with this,” Din argued.

“I agree but we have to be smart about this. I’ve seen your GPA Djarin, I know you’re not a moron.”

Luke frowned. “How did you see his grades? Are you hacking into Principal Windu’s computer again?!””

Din tilted his head. “You have a plan.”

Leia adjusted her glasses again. “I have several plans, ranging in severity. Some of which hinge on you.”

Luke groaned. “Oh no.”

“Me?”

“Amilyn and I have a plan to take out the worst of Luke’s tormentors…” Leia hesitated for a moment before continuing, “but it depends on if you’re willing to come out of the closet or not.”

“What! NO!” Luke jerked up before Din could say a word. “You can’t Leia, he’s gonna go to the army next year! They won’t take him if he’s out!”

Leia nodded. “We don’t have to use that plan--”

“--I never said I was going to enlist for sure,” Din interrupted. “I’d like to hear all your plans first.”

Luke turned to him with wide eyes. “No! I’m not worth it!”

“Don’t say that!” Leia scoffed. “If anything, he’s not worth it.”

“Hey.” Din frowned.

“He’s about to graduate!” Luke said to his sister. “Why would we drag him down with us when he’s close to getting out of this hellhole!”

“Because you still have one more year and I can’t take this anymore.” Leia was crying now, slow tears dripping from the corners of her eyes. “Luke, please. Let me help.” She turned to Din. “I know you don’t really want to join the army, I heard you talking to Fennec last week. If you’re willing to work on this with me and Amy, I’ll see to it my mom hires you after you graduate.”

Din hesitated. A promise of a job after high school, something that paid more than Blockbuster,  would be a real life changer for him. But there was a problem. “Wait. Will this plan of yours out Luke to your parents? I thought they’d be against it because of their religion.”

This made Leia snort. “Please, my dad is the worst Sith in the world and my mom is only in it for him.  The bonus is that this plan would convince dad to finally leave that cult.”

Luke shook his head. “If Aunt Ahsoka and Ben weren’t enough to get dad to leave, why do you think he’d leave for me.”

Din tightened his grip on Luke’s hand. “Your dad loves you,” he said quietly. “I’ve seen how he interacts with you. I’ve always thought you weren’t giving Anakin enough credit.”

Leia nodded. “We’re almost in the new millenium, lots of people are out now,” she argued. “It's not like how it was when Aunt Ahsoka was outed.”

“I don’t know, this is a lot!” Luke moaned. But he allowed Din to tuck his head onto his chest and to wrap his arms around him.  Din was happy to see Leia smile at them instead of reacting with any sort of disgust.

“Why don’t we just take this one step at a time,” Din suggested.  “Can you call Amilyn over to talk about all these different plans?”

Leia nodded. She wiped her face with the back of her cardigan sleeve and took a deep breath. “I’ll page her. Will you stay for dinner? We’re ordering pizza. Our parents will be out all night.”

“I need to call home, but yeah, sure.” He wasn’t one to turn down free food.

“Coolio. I’ll brb!”  Leia shot up from the couch.  She walked over to her brother and gave him a soft kiss on the head. It meant that she had to lean close to Din and he could smell something sweet and floral in her carefully braided hair.  “We’re gonna be ok, little brother.”

“I’m two minutes older,” Luke griped.  But Din felt Luke relax in his arms.

As Leia left to use the phone in the kitchen, Din slowly loosened his grip around Luke, enough so he could look at his eye. “I thought I taught you to duck.”

“I did! The first time.”  Luke flinched as Din carefully applied the ice pack to his face again.  “I tried to go low like you said, but then Greedo got me with his knee.”

“That bastard fights dirty,” Din growled. He was going to have to create an ‘accident’ for Greedo in the hallway tomorrow. If he called in his favor to Boba, he might even get one of his lackeys to do it for him.

Din felt Luke’s fingers twist into his plaid shirt.  “Let it go. Please. It’s not right if we stoop to his level. And you shouldn’t come out for me, it’ll just ruin your senior year.”

“Who cares about senior year? Why does everyone make such a big deal about it?! Best years of our lives--that’s depressing as shit.” Din raised his hand to Luke’s chin and gently cupped his face. “I’ve been a big fat coward, ok? This is wrong, Luke. There’s nothing wrong with us.”

Luke swallowed. “There’s a big difference between everyone thinking you’re a fag and being in an actual relationship. I don’t know if you or I are ready for that.”

Din knew what Luke meant. He didn’t know any gay couples. Just rumors of various people, like Luke’s aunt, that existed in their town. There was a significant part of him that was terrified of the consequences of Leia’s plan. Would he still be able to play Football? Would his teammates be afraid of him? What if Leia was wrong and Anakin forbid him from ever seeing Luke again?

But then again, Leia was also right. Luke had one year left and what would happen once he was gone and unable to divert the worst of Luke’s tormentors from jumping him in the hallways?  It wasn’t fair to let the injustice in Coruscant stand. Not while he was still around to do something about it.

“I want to take you to Homecoming,” Din admitted. “I want to see you in a stupid rented tux and make out with you in front of Mr. Windu.”  Luke giggled, then winced as it made his lip hurt.  “And Han should be there with Leia so she can finally make him slow dance.” Din’s hands wandered into Luke’s hair as he dragged him closer.

“Han dances like a penguin,” Luke sighed.  He slowly rested his forehead onto Din’s.  “He’s got two left feet.”

“Even better.”  Din carefully kissed the side of Luke’s mouth, careful to avoid his cut.

“Promise me you won’t do something stupid,” Luke pleaded. “We can wait until I graduate and then we can both leave this trash town.”

Instead of answering, Din pulled Luke into his arms and held him close. He looked up and saw Leia return to the living room. He locked eyes with her and nodded.

“I won’t let them hurt you anymore.”

#this is also a role reversal fic kinda sorta #Let Din be the cool kid for once #Leia the jazz band clarinet player is dedicated to Sadie #Nerd Leia is life #spoilers: in the end Luke and Din do go to homecoming together and Anakin gets his head out of his ass #I never went to homecoming or any shit like that so I aint writing it #I was a theater kid and I went to see one of the prequels after prom thats how cool I was #sbficlets #din/luke

[softboywriting]

Christmas Lights | Peter Mendes | Mendes Triplets AU

Summary: Taking a chance on Peter Mendes may be the best thing you do this Christmas. [fluff] [triplet au] [college au]

Word Count: 4k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Making friends on campus is hard when you don't know a single soul in the town you've moved to. St. Augusta college has the exact major program you've been looking to get into. You spent two years back home at your community college doing your prerequisites since it was far cheaper than doing four to six years at St. Augusta. The only downside to college in a small town is that everyone seems to know each other and they aren't really looking for new friends.

Christmas is approaching and you've been planning on going home for the holidays but you can't exactly leave your cat alone in your apartment for a few days. Bugs is not exactly one for traveling either, so a three hour car ride home would be absolute hell. You decide to stay, to wish your family Merry Christmas via video chat and open presents with them that way. Well. That's the plan anyway.  

Thursday, four days before Christmas, you win tickets to go see the light display at the park in town. It's a huge event and people come from all over to see it. You honestly didn't think you would win and you only entered because you figured it would be something fun to do other than sit around your apartment and watch Netflix.

When you pick up the tickets at the administration office you find out that it's a pair of them. Wonderful. You've got no one to go with. For a moment you wonder if you should just give them back, to have the secretary redraw the winner. Surely a couple would love these. You know if you were still with your ex boyfriend you'd love to. No. You'll find someone to go with.

So the hunt for a companion begins. You text the girl you talk to in your psychology class, having her number from a project you worked on together a few weeks ago. She's got plans. You text your friend Amie back home to see if she wants to drive up for the weekend and hang out. Nope. Her car is broken down. Just when things look bleak you remember the community board in the courtyard of your apartment complex. There were always postings on there for lost dogs, tutoring, and private classes of all sorts. Why not just see if someone wants to go with you?

You get back to your place and take a seat at the computer. Bugs jumps up on your lap and headbutts your stomach. "You wanna go with me Bugs?"

He meows.

"Yeah I didn't think so. I'd probably look like a freak walking my cat on a leash."

He purrs, flopping over on his side and covering your legs.

You open up a blank document and sigh. Alright. This may be a new low for you, but hey, maybe you'll make a really good friend. You type up the flyer and even add a few clip arts of Christmas lights along the bottom. It has your school email address on it in case anyone wants to contact you. You were going to put your number on there but thought better of it. You don't want some douchebag sending you nudes or something.

One brisk sprint to the community board outside later and you've got it posted. Now you wait. If no one replies then you'll go alone and give your spare ticket to some kid in line at the display. Here goes nothing.

____________________

Saturday morning you wake up with you phone blinking with a notification. You grab it and slide up to unlock. It's your email. Your school email. A surge of excitement courses through you and you're hoping someone has replied to your bulletin.

You open the app and flip through some emails from your teachers about assignments due after the holiday break. Sure enough there is one that's from a student. You can tell because it doesn't have a name attached as a contact like the staff emails do. It just says unread from [email protected].

Hi, I'm Peter. I saw your post on the community board. If you're still interested I would like to go.

You chew on your lower lip, nervous about going. What if this guy is a creep? You can bring your pepper spray. Maybe you can assess him by showing up early to the community board and seeing if he looks like a weirdo. Not all creeps look like a creep though. Okay. You're not being fair. Not all guys are bad, besides if you don't reply to the email, he probably won't show up right? He'll just think you've found another companion.

All day you contemplate emailing Peter back. Do you want to go with a guy? Maybe you should wait and see if a girl wants to go. But then again, you didn't specify your gender on the posting. So he doesn't even know if you're a guy or girl. Well that changes things. You're gonna do it.

Around dinner time you email Peter back. You tell him to meet you at the board on Christmas Eve around six and that you're going to be wearing a white coat. You still don't reveal your gender, just in case. _____________________

The time has come. You put on your puffy white coat, boots and a pair of gloves. You give Bugs some kibble and head out to the community board in the courtyard. There aren't very many people out there, a few groups of people talking near the decorated trees at every corner of the yard. There is no one by the board and you're kind of disappointed but relieved. Maybe he would flake out.

"Hey, are you the one with the tickets?"

You turn and you're met with a guy quite a bit taller than you. He's got a mop of curly brown hair, flushed cheeks covered in freckles and greenish hazel eyes behind some cute round glasses. He's in a bulky pink hoodie with a jean jacket over it just like he said he would be. He looks familiar, you're pretty sure he's in one of your classes.

"Peter?"

"That's me." He pulls his hand from his hoodie pocket and you shake it. "I'm so glad you replied back. I really want to see the lights, I just don't have the extra cash for a ticket this year."

You smile big and he grins right back. "I'm glad you replied too. I didn't really want to go alone."

"Then why'd you buy the tickets?"

"I didn't. I won them."

"Oh! Gotcha. Well, let's go? We don't want to miss it."

"Right. Do you want to walk or..." You look over at your car in the lot and wonder how much gas you have.

Peter shrugs. "It's a short walk. Like twenty minutes tops?"

"Probably, and I wore my boots." You look down at your old black snow boots. "They're pretty comfortable for walking."

"Let's get to it then!" Peter says excitedly, patting your shoulder. "No time to waste."

_____________________

The walk to the park proves very interesting. You learn that Peter is studying to be a photographer and does photos for the school newspaper while also doing some freelance work on the side for a couple of students with blogs. Both of you love hot chocolate with cinnamon in it. You both love the color pink, and you both have cats. His is a girl named Peach after Princess Peach from Super Mario. He is also in your business management class, and you can't believe you didn't pay more attention to him. He's so cute.

When you get to the park you show your tickets at the booth and they let you skip the line to get in. Once inside you can't believe how much it has changed since you visited once as a kid. There is a ten foot tall reindeer, life-size snowmen with tophats, and a small replica of the eiffel tower that's all lit up with tiny star shaped lights and a big star on top. It's incredible.

Peter tugs your arm and you follow him over to where an old woman dressed as Mrs. Claus is handing out flyers. "We have to do the scavenger hunt."

"The what?"

"Hello! Join the scavenger for a special surprise at the end of tour of lights!" Mrs. Claus says, handing a flyer to you and a few kids who are nearby.

You look over the list. "Find Santa's belt, Rudolf's nose, the elves stockings, Mrs. Claus's glasses, and the magic Christmas bell. Take a photo with each object and show at the end of the tour for a special Christmas surprise."

Peter takes the list and looks like a kid in a candy store. "They changed it up this year. This is going to be so much fun."

You can't help but smile. Peter has turned out to be the best companion you could have hoped for so far. "What is the prize at the end?"

Peter looks up from the list. "No clue. It changes every year. Last year I got a stocking."

"Oh that's actually kind of cool. I figured it'd just be like one of those big candy cane sticks or something."

"Nah, they go all out." Peter looks around the park. "We should start the hunt, we don't want to be the last ones to find everything."

"Why not?"

"They could run out of prizes for the night. Plus, I want to stop by the elves workshop and get some hot cocoa." Peter puts his arm out and you take it, looping yours under his. "Let's do this thing."

_____________________

The scavenger hunt is a blast. You and Peter literally comb through every display trying to find the items on the list. So far you have found the elves stockings and Mrs. Claus's glasses. Rudolph's nose is your next target as you head for the sleigh display.

Just as you reach the sleigh you see the last person you ever expected to see. Your ex boyfriend Blaine. He's got his latest fling on his arm, some tiny little thing with dark hair. Honestly you have no idea why he ever dated you. Every girl he's dated since you, there's been five in the last nine months, has been your polar opposite. You're not sure if it's him trying to not think of you or if it's that those girls are his type and you just weren't.

"Can we look for Santa's belt?" You ask, stopping mid stride and Peter looks back, clearly confused.

"We're right here though?"

"I know...I just don't want to do this one yet."

Peter walks back to meet you and crosses his arms. "You're avoiding someone."

"What? No, I-"

"Oh come on. Who is it? Family? Ex best friend? Ex boyfriend?" He looks around at the people nearby.

You sigh and roll your eyes. "It's my ex boyfriend if you must know. I'm surprised he's here considering our hometown is three hours away."

"Oh, dramatic." Peter puts his arm around your shoulders. "Which one is he?"

"The guy over there with the Steelers hat on with the girl attached to his arm." You point out Blaine, clear as day.

Peter nods and pushes his glasses up. "He looks like a douchebag."

"He is."

"Why'd you date him?"

"Small town? He was the best I could get?"

"Ouch." Peter laughs. "Well, you wanna make him jealous? I can be your pretend boyfriend for a while."

You look Peter over and he holds his arms out. "You are way more handsome, and you're definitely bigger." You chew on your lower lip. "I do want to get back at him."

"I'm all yours." Peter laughs. "Sounds like he really hurt you. I'm all about getting back at a douchebag."

"Alright. Yeah. Why not?"

Peter wraps his arms around you and walks you toward the sleigh display. He grabs your gloved hands and holds them close to your chest. It's actually nice. You haven't been held since you were with Blaine.

"There's Rudolf!" You point to the front of the light display and sure enough it's Rudolph but his nose isn't lit up.

Peter pulls you toward a big present box nearby. It's got a lid like a chest. He lifts it up and you grab the huge pom pom like ball out of it. Rudolph's nose.

"Wanna pose for a picture together?"

"Yes." You pull out your phone and hold it out while Peter leans down behind you, both of you holding the pom pom as you make goofy face and snap the picture.

"Oh hey," Blaine says as he approached with his girlfriend. "Crazy seeing you here."

Peter wraps his arm around you and holds you against him, pressing his face into your hair. "Do we know you?" What a power move.

"Crazy? I go to school here." You roll your eyes.

"This is your ex?" Peter asks, as if you hadn't already told him. He's playing along very well.

"Yes." You lean your head back against Peter's chest. "Why are you here Blaine?"

"Date night." Blaine grins, kissing his girlfriend grossly and for way too long. "It's so romantic here, and Christmas Eve is the perfect time to see a light display. I couldn't imagine bringing my beautiful girl anywhere else."

Peter rubs your side obviously reading into how tense you've gotten with Blaine's asshole demeanor. "Isn't it the best? I brought her here for our six month anniversary." He looks over at you with a smile, having really put emphasis on six months and you bite your lip. "We're going to dinner afterwards, the steakhouse on tenth street. They do a Christmas Eve special for couples. Reservation only."

Blaine looks annoyed, and one upped. Which, honestly he has been because Peter is really selling the lie. "Funny, we were gonna do that too. Guess we'll see you there."

"Really?" Peter grins. "Because the only restaurant on tenth street is a McDonald's. Get over yourself and stop being a dick in front of your ex."

Your jaw drops and Peter threads his fingers between yours. He walks you away from Blaine and you can't help but let out a laugh in astonishment. Peter just destroyed him in a matter of seconds like it was nothing.

"I can't believe you did that," you say, looking back at Blaine and his girlfriend who's yelling at him about something. Probably for embarrassing her.

"Yeah, well, he was being a dick. You could tell he was trying to rub in that he was on a date with someone who wasn't you. I can't stand guys like that."

You lean your head against Peter's arm. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that, I could have just walked away."

"What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn't defend my fake girlfriend?" He laughs and you laugh too. What a crazy night it's been.

_____________________

You and Peter finish the scavenger hunt and go to the prize booth to show your photos. The worker hands you both a lidded box that's wrapped up like a present and you step aside to open it and see what you got.

"Fuzzy socks!" You squeal, holding up a pair of fluffy candy cane striped socks.  "These are awesome!"

Peter opens his box and he's got a pair to but they're green and red. "I'm not sure these will fit me, but you can have them." He looks down and sticks his tennis show clad foot out. "Maybe they will?"

"You'll have to see." You turn in your gift box at the little drop off bin for people who don't want to take it with them. "I suppose it's time to go back home now."

"Yeah." Peter pushes his glasses up. "I had a great time. Thanks for letting me go with you."

You chuckle. "I almost went alone. I didn't know if you were some creep or not. I'm glad I did email you back though. You're pretty cool."

"You are too. And I promise I'm not a creep." Peter crosses his fingers. "Swear I'm normal."

"You're a goof."

"Yep. That's me." He loops his arm under yours and the two of you head for the apartment complex. You really are glad you decided to say yes to him. This night was incredible, even though you saw Blaine, it was still great.

_____________________

"Any plans for Christmas?" Peter asks as the two of you stand outside the front door to your building.

"Nope. Just me and Bugs video chatting my parents some time in the afternoon. They've sent me a few gifts in the mail so I've got some stuff to open."

Peter runs a hand over his hair and bites his lip. "Well, if you wanted to, my brothers and I are making breakfast and stuff. I'm sure they wouldn't mind if I brought a guest over."

"Do your brothers live with you?"

"Yeah," he turns and points at the building to the left of yours. "We share one of the penthouse apartments."

"Fancy." You raise your eyebrows. "Those things are like super expensive."

Peter smiles sheepishly. "They are, but all three of us have full ride scholarships and Raul got a massive grant. We all pay our part from our grants pretty much but Raul pays a little more since he wanted the big apartment."

"Ah, I see. Well...can I get your number? I'll text you if I am able to make it?"

Peter pulls out his phone. "Of course."

The two of you exchange numbers and say your goodbyes. You head up to your apartment, smiling to yourself. Peter is kind of awesome. You finally feel like you've made a friend. Christmas miracles do exist.  

_____________________

Christmas morning. It's snowing heavily when you wake up. Bugs is on your head, asleep against your hair. Your phone lays on the pillow beside you, notification light glowing. You grab it and turn it on, seeing two messages. One from your mom saying Merry Christmas and one from Peter telling you their building security code and there is a photo attached.  

You open the photo and it's him in a Santa hat and the ugliest sweater you've ever seen. In the background there is another guy, his brother you assume, and he looks super similar. Maybe Peter was a twin. You reply back with a photo of Bugs in his little Christmas sweater you had put on him last night.

After a call with your mom and dad, making plans to video chat around one in the afternoon, you decide to go over to Peter's apartment. He's been sending you photos all morning of the food and you just can't resist. He's such a dork but he's so genuinely cute.

You bundle up and cross the courtyard to head to his building. Peter meets you at the front door and you laugh at his reindeer print pants. "You didn't have to come all the way down here."

"Yeah, I did." He chuckles as you walk down the entry hall. "I sort of forgot to mention something."

"Uh oh. What?" You stop short of the elevator doors. "Is there where you tell me you're a crazy psychopath and you're gonna eat me?"

"No!" Peter's face goes white but he quickly realized you're joking. "No, no no no. Okay that sounded bad. Okay no, I just forgot to tell you about my brothers."

"What? Yes you did, you said they live with you?"

"Not that. I mean, we're triplets."

"Oh!" You laugh. "That makes sense."

"What?"

"Well, in your photo of your Santa hat I saw one of your brothers in the back ground and I thought he looked super similar to you."

"Oh. Yeah, that was probably Shawn. We look the most alike." Peter pulls out his keycard to the elevator and swipes it to go up. "Raul still looks like us, but his hair is darker and he's got a little bit more angular of a face. Anyway, they're really excited to meet you."

"Why's that?"

Peter rubs his neck and blushes. "I don't bring a lot of guests over."

"Like just female guests or?"

"Any really. My brother's always tell me I'm antisocial. Whatever."

You step out of the elevator and Peter heads to the left. "I wouldn't have guessed you're antisocial. You're pretty talkative with me. You told me about so much yesterday."

"Yeah well, you're easy to talk to." Peter pushes open the door to the apartment. "And-"

"Damn Peter!" One of the brothers says as you walk in. "How'd you manage to get the balls to talk to her?"

"Shut up Raul," Peter says, throwing a pillow at him from a nearby sofa.

Raul stands and walks over to you. "I'm Raul. His older brother."

Peter rolls his eyes. "By minutes."

"Every second counts." Raul smirks and shakes your hand. "Merry Christmas, welcome to our shithole."

"Raul!"

You stifle a laugh. "Merry Christmas to you too. I was told there would be breakfast?"

"Just missed it. I ate it all." Raul says with a shrug and a tummy pat. "Christmas morning munchies."

"Oh shut up," Peter says and motions for you to follow him to the kitchen. You do and Raul flops down on the sofa laughing at his own dumb joke. "Shawn, this is the girl I told you about." He introduces you and you shake Shawn's flour covered hand.

"Hey, welcome. We've got a ton of food, please eat. It's just us." Shawn says, gesturing to the counter with plates of pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon.

Peter hands you a plate from the cupboard. "Don't be shy okay? I promise none of us will judge you for eating a bunch or something."

You take the plate and grab some of everything. "Don't worry, I'm starving so I won't be shy."

_____________________

Post breakfast the guys open gifts. There are quite a few under the tree and you're surprised to find there are three for you. Considering you just met Peter yesterday and the other two today, it's a shocker. How could they even know what to get you?

"How...how do I have gifts?" You laugh as Peter plops a small red box in your lap.

"Well, last night I went out and got some stuff in case you did decide to come over. I really hoped you would, and I didn't want you to feel left out."

"That's so sweet." You lift the lid and inside is a little bag of cat toys and treats. "For Bugs!"

Raul chuckles and hands you another box. "Open this one."

You tear open the small box and inside is a hot cocoa mix in a mug that says Meowy Clawsmas. All of you have a good laugh at that.

Peter hands you the last box and he's flushed.  You give him a look and open it. Inside is a flat small envelope. "What is this?"

"Just open it," Peter says.

You tear open the little seal and inside are two printed tickets to the ice rink downtown. "Ice skating?"

"I think Peter is asking you on a date," Shawn says from where he's cleaning up wrapping paper on the couch.

You flush, warmth spreading across your cheeks. "You want to go out with me?"

"Y-yeah. The light display was so much fun I thought maybe... y'know, we could do something like that again." Peter pushes his glasses up and clears his throat. "It doesn't have to be a date. We can just go as friends, or if you want to go with someone else that's okay."

"Peter."

"Yeah?"

"I'd love to go out with you." You lean forward and give him a hug. He seemingly melts into you, big hands coming up and resting on your back. "Relax."

Raul and Shawn let out a little chorus of awes.

"Thanks for not making Christmas suck this year." You laugh, pulling back and pushing Peter's hair out of his face. "I'm glad I took a chance and invited you to the light display."

"Me too. Merry Christmas," he says with a smile and you smile back.

"Merry Christmas."

_________________________

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed this and reblog to support and encourage myself and fellow writers. Next part coming soon! - A

Custom header per part made by the incredible delicateshawn

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes au #peter mendes #mendes triplets #mendes triplets au #the mendes triplets #mendes triplets fic #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes au fic #shawn mendes fanfic

[bananonymity]

Based on this au

-

“So,” said Ludwig, “you’d like to drop Music Theory.”

Student Advisor Ludwig Beilschmidt’s office was orderly, clean, and devoid of distraction. It was a wonder how it hadn’t driven anyone mad yet. Emil found it calming to a point; it made him somewhat nostalgic for his comfort zone of Icelandic minimalism, except for the lack of spacious windows.

Emil nodded.

“Not your liking?” said Ludwig.

“It wasn’t bad,” Emil said. He had no real complaint against the course. The first day of class, Professor Edelstein spent the entire hour and fifteen minutes teaching the students how to find the cheapest textbooks on Amazon. “But I already know music theory.”

“So you’d like to challenge yourself,” Ludwig said.

“I guess,” Emil said.

Ludwig nodded with approval, missing or ignoring the glum note to Emil’s tone. The real reason that he wanted to drop out was in fact the very opposite; the moment he stepped into the music building, he felt such oppressive intimidation that he actually texted his older brother for comfort, which went something like this:

LUKAS: How are you liking your classes?

EMIL: [thumbs down emoji]

It was a risky move, because goodness knew if this amount of unprecedented emotional vulnerability would worry Lukas. Emil regretted the raw honesty immediately afterward, but by then it was too late.

“That’s one of the great things about university,” said Ludwig. “It gives you avenues to study subjects you wouldn’t have thought of before. Now, dropping this course would mean you need to take up another course to fulfill the minimum amount of credits to be a full time student in this semester. Have you thought of what you would like to add?”

“Not exactly,” Emil said, staring at the corner of Ludwig’s screen where about seven new email notifications from frantic students at the edge of add-drop period scrambled to change their majors.

“Well, I can tell you that you still have some gen eds that you would have to fulfill,” said Ludwig. “One social studies and one art course. That would be good to take care of while you are still a first year.”

“Mm,” Emil said.

“And if you’re up for a challenge, or have interest in specific topics, there are certainly some classes in the one thousand level that have extra space.”

“Mm.”

“Or since you’re already quite ahead in your credits, you can explore a topic for your own enrichment.”

“Mm.”

Ludwig gave Emil a look of pleading exasperation. Emil fixed his gaze stubbornly on the window.

“What is your preference?” Ludwig said.

Emil pursed his lips. He knew that it was harder on Ludwig than on him to deal with his unhelpful indecision, but it did not give him any clearer opinion on what he ought to do. Maybe he should have bitten the bullet and stayed in Professor Roderich’s class. Maybe he should have thought of this before the semester started. Maybe he should have never applied to a university so far from home. Maybe he should have never graduated high school, in general.

“I guess finish my gen ed courses,” Emil said.

Ludwig nodded with enthusiasm for the both of them.

“So, an art course and a social studies course,” said Ludwig. “We have several art courses that are available for you here. Let’s see…”

Ludwig pulled up all the available courses for the semester that would fulfill an art credit. The array of choices made Emil’s eyes blur.

“How about Intro to Film?” said Ludwig. “That would cover your art credit, and also give you an extra English credit if you’re looking into pursuing a certificate.”

“A certificate?” Emil said. “What for?”

“Certification for Digital Media, if that interests you,” Ludwig said.

Emil sputtered.

“I don’t even know what my major is!” he said. “What’s a certificate going to do for me?”

“You don’t have to take it for a certificate,” Ludwig said quickly as Emil buried his face in his hands. “I just meant that it was a nice way to kill two birds with one stone if--”

“But I don’t want to kill birds,” Emil said. “I don’t even know what birds to kill. What kind of person am I if I went around killing random birds just because society tells me that’s how to get a job?”

He slumped back into his seat, letting out a huff of distress. He supposed that he needn’t yell about it, but he had to affirm himself that he made a solid point. Ludwig, in the meantime, only rubbed his brow wearily.

“No certification then,” said Ludwig. “But if we just look at art credits, would that interest you?”

“What is the class like?” Emil said.

“Well...”

“Class, I want you to write this down. Soviet cinema banks on violently killing off every character that has a face on screen. You can quote me on that, I have a doctorate.”

Leon Wang, Emil’s roommate, scribbled this down on his notebook, if only because he knew it would make a solid tweet later on. Professor Alfred F. Jones paced about the front of the room, whizzing through his PowerPoint presentation faster than any of the students could actually take notes.

“Battleship Potemkin? Dead,” said Alfred. “Strike? Dead. A five-second example of the Kuleshov effect? Dead baby. Basically, if you want to make a Soviet montage, kill a bunch of farmers from different camera angles.”

“Professor Jones?” One student raised their hand in the back.

“Call me Alfred,” Alfred said, flashing a dazzling grin. “What’s up?”

“Can you go back to the last slide with all the notes?” they said.

“Fine, but you all gotta catch up faster than that,” Alfred said.

He backspaced on the PowerPoint, skipping through the past fifteen or so slides that he had flew through in half a minute until he reached the slide of haphazard bullet points.

“So, to recap,” said Alfred. “Soviet montage wasn’t necessarily trying to break the rules of cinema. Leave that to the French in the sixties, God help them. But Eisenstein and Kuleshov in particular wanted to use editing differently, to create a synergetic meaning through editing shots together that, by itself, wouldn’t communicate that. Sort of like how on Instagram, you can either build a collage or just have multiple photos in a post, and the effect of it is different depending on how you arrange it, right?”

“What?” said Leon.

“So there you go,” Alfred said. Leon sighed and wrote Instagram = Soviet montage (?) in his notebooks, and hoped that Alfred upload the slides onto Blackboard later today.

“But here’s the wild thing,” said Alfred. “Soviet montage outlived the USSR. Stalin is dead! But even in the play-it-safe boon of Hollywood, we still use those seemingly weird and non-linear montage editing for our movies. Take Arrival. Has anyone here not seen Arrival?”

Several hands went up in the air. Alfred threw a dry erase board marker on the floor.

“Too bad! Spoilers alert,” he said. “The reason why you go into the movie thinking that it is being told in a linear manner, and that Amy Adams’ daughter dies in the beginning of the story, is through the Kuleshov effect. You see her in the beginning of the movie watching her daughter die, and then the scene cuts to her going to work. And you--the audience, you think she looks so sad and distant and uninterested in the news about these octopus aliens because of the recent death of her daughter. But actually you only think that because the two scenes are put back to back. Her face was really just neutral, but because of editing you think they are related, when it is actually a flash forward--or flashback. Dead baby!”

Leon nodded fervently, writing with a little more vigor in his notebook. Maybe Alfred actually did know what he was talking about. He made sense, which was more than he could ask for in a college course. This course made him feel excitable, to relish the honor and merit of his favorite medium, handing back to it the dignity it deserved.

“Or like in this one episode of Lizzie McGuire,” said Alfred.

Leon blanked immediately.

“There is this one scene I remember,” Alfred said, his eyes widening with nostalgia. “I don’t remember the characters’ names at all, or the plot, or if this was even an episode of Lizzie McGuire, but I’m kind of certain that it was on the TV when I was about ten years old. Anyway, there was a scene where this boy, no idea who he was, maybe he was like, Hilary Duff’s little brother or something? Anyway, he had a dirty nose and his mom was like, you got a dirty nose and when and licked a napkin or something to clean it off, and then it would suddenly cut to an unrelated, non-narrative shot of a lion licking her cub’s face, and then cut back to the mom wiping the dirt off her kid’s face. The lion has nothing to do with the story, but it was edited in there to make a more symbolic comparison, to emphasize the overbearing nature of the mother. Disney Channel was flexing its Soviet montage, baby!”

Alfred sped through several tens other PowerPoint slides that looked like they held vital information. Leon leaned over to the student sitting next to him.

“What the hell is Lizzie McGuire?” he whispered.

“All right, fifteen minute break commences now,” Alfred said, closing his laptop while students desperately scribbled the last of the bullet points with their aching hands. “Second half of class, we’ll get right into the film. Unfortunately, if you graduate from this school with a film degree and not know what the Odessa steps are, you aren’t going to make it out alive in Hollywood or wherever the hell you guys want to go. So we’re going to have to watch some Eisenstein. I’m so sorry, everyone.”

While other students went to use the restroom, or checked their text messages on their phones, Leon flipped through the syllabus for this course once more. He was hopeful that they would watch a John Woo film in this course, which did not seem like a far cry from what Alfred would assign. Apparently, one of their midterms would include writing a paper applying an advanced film theory to Die Hard.

“Come on, kids!” Alfred said. “You’ve got fifteen minutes to stretch your legs. This is a four-hour course, you’ve got all the time to sit around. Don’t you know that sitting is the new smoking?”

He promptly took a bite from a box of Chick-Fil-A strips waiting for him on the podium.

(tbc?)

#hetalia #hetalia au #university au #aph america #aph germany #aph iceland #aph hong kong

[vraiesmeufs]

Maëlle : “Être une vraie meuf c’est se sentir bien avec soi même”

J’ai rencontré Maëlle sur Twitter, on ne s’était jamais croisées en vrai mais on avait des amis en commun et elle faisait partie des nombreuses personnes avec qui j’interagissais dans ma TL. J’appréciais sa manière simple et sans complexe d’être. Je me souviens d’un jour où j’ai juste répondu à un de ses tweets en disant “Maëlle, je veux te vraiesmeufiser”. C’est comme ça que cela s’est passé.

J’arrive donc en bas de chez elle après les cours, pas loin de la porte d’Italie. Je vois sa tête par la fenêtre et elle me fait signe de la rejoindre. Après quelques secondes dans l’ascenseur, j’arrive dans son appart, qui donne vue sur Paris et le 94. S’il y a bien quelque chose que j’ai remarqué après avoir rencontré autant de filles, c’est que j’ai toujours l’impression de les connaître depuis longtemps : c’est comme recroiser une ancienne camarade de classe.

Maëlle me prépare un thé, roule une clope et commence à parler. Elle était en première année en licence de philosophie, mais m’explique qu’elle a arrêté d’y aller. “Jsuis un peu le genre de personne qui peut baisser facilement les bras quand ça devient difficile. A la base, j’ai fait un bac arts et j’aimais beaucoup ce que je faisais mais quand ça a commencé à devenir dur, j’ai tout lâché. Alors je me suis dis que j’avais envie de faire une pause pour ne pas finir dégoûtée par les arts, et la philo rejoignait un peu ce que je pouvais faire en cours. Je me suis un peu jetée là dedans sans trop savoir à quoi m’attendre. Mais la fac c’est très particulier surtout quand il s’agit de sciences humaines. J’étais habituée à une classe avec une vraie ambiance familiale et des cours très vivants et là ça n’avait rien à voir. Je n’avais pas forcément le niveau, et on se rend compte que vu le nombre de personne en TD et en amphi les profs viennent juste lire leurs cours et basta. C’est aussi pour ça que je m’intéresse au mouvement étudiant d’en ce moment, parce que les conditions pour étudier ne sont pas vraiment top. Du coup à force ça a fini par me lasser et j’me suis sentie débordée par le travail personnel que je devais fournir à côté.”

Justement Maëlle se sent plus ou moins concernée par ce mouvement étudiant dont on entend énormément parler en ce moment, que ce soit dans les médias ou sur les réseaux. “Je soutiens totalement les bloqueurs de ma fac et je suis déjà allée en AG voter certaines mesures. Après, je ne suis pas allée manifester à cause du boulot et j’avoue que comme beaucoup de jeunes j’ai du mal à comprendre complètement pour (ou plutôt contre) quoi on se bat. C’est pour ça que j’essaye de participer un minimum pour me tenir informée et dans tous les cas, je pense qu’on a tous des choses à revendiquer alors je vais faire entendre ma petite voix quand je le peux.”

J’aime beaucoup demander aux filles que je rencontre où est ce qu’elles se voient plus tard, comment elles voient leur futur, mais la réponse n’est jamais certaine. Je me rends compte qu’on est nombreuses à être encore indécises, à ne pas savoir quel avenir on veut. C’est aussi le cas de Maëlle. “Je ne sais pas encore ce que je veux faire plus tard, c’est carrément flou. On va dire que pour l’instant j’envisage de me réorienter en histoire de l’art ou en tout cas rester dans le domaine des arts et arts appliqués (vu que c’est le bac que j’ai passé). Ce que je vais faire plus tard, quand je serais une grande fille, j’en ai vraiment aucune idée. J’aspire à une vie simple, tant que je suis à Paris ça me va. J’essaye juste de ne me fermer aucune porte. Pour l’instant mes journées se résument à aller bosser au resto le midi et voir mes amis, en gros une vie de petite parisienne lambda.”

Justement en parlant de cette vie de Paris, c’est quoi être un jeune à Paris aujourd’hui ? “Pour moi c’est être ouvert à tout ce qui nous entoure. On a la chance d’être à Paris, une ville qui mélange un tas de personnalités, de cultures, d’opinions différentes, c’est super important d’être curieux et tolérant. J’adore rencontrer des gens ou découvrir de nouvelles choses et pour moi Paris c’est le meilleur endroit pour ça. On fréquente des gens de tous horizons et je trouve ça super cool.”

Maëlle est très active sur les réseaux sociaux, en particulier Twitter. J’avais envie de la questionner sur l’image des femmes sur les réseaux sociaux, comme c’est un peu la problématique principale de #VRAIESMEUFS à la base (j’ai vraiment l’impression de parler de cela à chaque fois, mais c’est une thématique très intéressante à aborder). “Je suis une fan inconditionnelle de Twitter mais parfois c’est quand même très particulier. On peut apprendre plein de choses, que ce soit sur l’actualité, l’histoire, la religion et j’en passe parce que c’est une fenêtre ouverte sur l’information. Tout le monde peut partager ce qu’il sait ou ce qu’il aime. Après il y a beaucoup de dérives. Moi je me revendique comme féministe et je pense que tout le monde l’est finalement. Je déteste voir des meufs se faire insulter ou harceler dans la vraie vie mais aussi sur les réseaux. Chacune est libre de ses propos, de son corps et de ses choix. Après, ce n’est pas parce que j’accepte que je comprends tout. J’ai du mal à comprendre les filles qui se dénudent librement sur les réseaux. Sans parler du fait que ce soit intime ou quoi (je parle librement de sexualité alors je vais pas faire la morale de ce point de vue là). Pour moi, Twitter est un réseau social qui regroupe des jeunes et des plus jeunes encore. Ça m’embête de me dire que des gamines mineures soient nues sur les réseaux et que des gros dégueulasses y ont accès. Ce n’est pas un site porno et de ce point de vue, ça m’embête. La nudité pour la nudité, je ne comprends vraiment pas mais bon je n’irais jamais insulter une femme pour ce qu’elle fait, puisque j’accepterais pas qu’à l’inverse on m’insulte pour ce que je dis.”

Est-ce qu’elle a déjà subi le cyber harcèlement ? “Oui carrément, c’est facile d’insulter sur les réseaux, j’en suis la preuve vivante et ce n’est pas forcément un truc dont je suis fière. Il y a une fois qui m’a marqué où j’étais prête à aller porter plainte. C’était quelqu’un qui avait beaucoup d’influence sur Twitter et qui s’amusait à rabaisser les gens. Elle avait posté pas mal d’insultes racistes 2 ans plus tôt mais elle n’a pas été sanctionnée pour ça (juste suspendue) et du coup elle a envoyé ses chiens de garde pour voir si j’étais clean (ouf je l’étais). Après ça, c’est rien, je vois des filles qui se font harceler pour de vrai, quotidiennement et que ça pourrit littéralement. Les seules fois où j’ai eu des problèmes à cause de Twitter c’était anecdotique, je suis relativement chanceuse de ce côté là.”

Enfin, je lui demande sa définition d’une vraie meuf. “C’est super compliqué comme question parce que je pense pas qu’il y ait une réponse unique. Pour moi la vraie meuf on peut la trouver à tous les coins de rue, même chez les hommes. C’est quelqu’un qui s’assume pleinement, qui vit selon ses principes et qui est droit dans ses bottes. Il faut juste être bien avec soi-même, se dire qu’on fait ce qui est bien pour nous et pour les autres. Pas besoin d’avoir accompli des choses incroyables ou d’être engagée dans une cause particulière. C’est juste se sentir bien avec soi-même je pense.”

Tu peux retrouver Maëlle sur Twitter.

ENGLISH VERSION (translated by Lucie)

MAËLLE: ‘BEING A REAL GIRL IS FEELING GOOD ABOUT YOURSELF’

I met Maëlle on Twitter, we had never met in real life but we had friends in common and she was one of the many people with whom I interacted in my TL. I appreciated her simple and unapologetic way of being. I remember one day, I just answered one of her tweets saying ‘Maëlle, I want to give you the real girl treatment’. That’s how it happened.

So I arrive at her place after school, near Porte d’Italie. I see her head popping out the window and she motions me to join her. After a few seconds in the elevator, I arrive in her apartment, which overlooks Paris and the 94th department. If there is something I learned after meeting so many girls, it’s that I always feel like I have known them for a long time: it’s like getting together with an old classmate.

Maëlle brews some tea, rolls up a cigarette and starts talking. She was in the first year of a philosophy degree, but she tells me she stopped going to classes. ‘I’m the kind of person who can easily give up when things get hard. Basically, I had a baccalauréat in arts and I liked very much what I did but when it became hard, I let everything go. So I told myself that I wanted to take a break so that I would not end up disgusted by arts, and philosophy was somewhat similar to what I did in class. I threw myself in there without knowing what to expect. But college is very peculiar, especially when it comes to human sciences. I was used to a class that almost felt like a family, and lively lectures, and college was nothing like that. I wasn’t necessarily up to speed, and you soon realize that. That’s also why I’m interested in the student movement right now, because the conditions for studying are not really great. As a result, I grew tired and I felt overwhelmed by the amount of homework I had to do on top of everything else.’

Indeed, Maëlle can more or less relate to this student movement we are hearing a lot about, whether in the media or on social media. ‘I totally support the blockades in my college and I have already gone to several assemblies to vote some measures. But I did not go to protests because of my work and I admit that like many young people, I have a hard time really understanding what we are fighting for (or rather against). That’s why I try to participate a minimum to keep myself informed and in any case, I think we all have things to claim so I will make my small voice heard whenever I can.’

I really like asking the girls I meet where they see themselves in the future, but the answer is never clear. I realize that many of us are still indecisive, not sure what future we want. This is also the case for Maëlle. ‘I don’t know what I want to do in the future, it’s completely blurry. Let’s just say for now that I plan to redirect myself towards History of art, or at least stay in the arts and applied arts field (since it is the bac I took). What I’m going to do later, when I grow up, I really have no idea. I aspire to a simple life, as long as I am in Paris, it works for me. I’m just trying not to close any door. For now my days can be summed up like this: going to work at the restaurant at noon and seeing my friends; basically the life of every Parisian.’  

Speaking of life in Paris, what is it like, being a young person in Paris today? ‘For me, it’s being open to everything around us. We are lucky to be in Paris, a city that mixes a lot of personalities, cultures, different opinions, it’s super important to be curious and tolerant. I love meeting people or discovering new things and for me Paris is the best place for that. We meet people from everywhere and I find it super cool.’

Maëlle is very active on social media, especially Twitter. I wanted to ask her about the image of women on social media, as it is the main problematic of #VRAIESMEUFS originally (I really feel like I’m talking about it every time, but it is a very interesting theme to address). ‘I am an unconditional fan of Twitter but sometimes it gets very strange. You can learn a lot about news, history, religion and so on, because it’s an open window to information. Everyone can share what they know or love. But there are also a lot of people who go off the rails. I say that I am a feminist, and I think everyone is, when all is said and done. I hate to see girls being insulted or bullied in real life and on social media as well. Everyone is free to say or do what they want; it is their body and their choice. However, just because I accept everything, doesn’t mean that I understand everything. I have a hard time understanding the girls who are stripping freely on social media. Not because it’s intimate or what (I speak freely about sexuality so I’m not going to lecture anyone on this). To me, Twitter is a social medium that brings together young people and even younger ones. It bugs me to see young girls getting naked on social media and to think that some pervs have access to those images. This is not a porn site, and from this point of view, it bothers me. Nudity just for the sake of nudity, that’s what I don’t understand but hey, I would never insult a woman for what she does, since I would not accept being insulted for what I say.’

Has she ever experienced cyber bullying? ‘Yes, it’s easy to insult someone over social media, I’m living proof of that and it’s not necessarily something I’m proud of. There was that one time that really got to me and I was ready to go to the police. It was someone who has a lot of influence on Twitter and who enjoys belittling people. She had posted a lot of racist slurs 2 years ago but she had not been sanctioned for that (only suspended) and so she sent her guard dogs to see if I was clean (phew I was ). But that’s nothing, I see girls being bullied for real, on a daily basis, and who are literally broken because of it. The only time I had problems on Twitter was anecdotal, I’m relatively lucky on that part.’

Finally, I ask her what a ‘real girl’ is to her. ‘It’s a really hard question because I do not think there’s one single answer. For me, a real girl can be found on every street corner, even in men. It is someone who lives by their principles and is self-righteous. You just have to feel good with yourself, knowing that you are doing what is right for you and for others. No need to have accomplished incredible things or to be committed to one cause. It’s just feeling good about yourself, I think.’

You can find Maëlle on Twitter.

#vraiesmeufs

[dvddggs]

To the Four of Us (Part Twelve)

premise: modern AU chronicling the squad as they make their way through college and deal with general life things. 

words: 2,503

warnings: swearing & things get a lil bit spicy ((nothing too graphic but nsfw!!))??? 

a/n: john is rly good at Suppressing His Emotions™ 

all chapters: x

tags: @heythereitsloey @anitheunicorn @newyorkyoucanbeanew @lafbagxette @justafangirlwithanavy @iamgrayfox @ordinaryornate @schuylerjoon @angelica-peggy-eliza @trashyperson101 @crazydragon15 @geespilots dedication: lmao i forgot to do this so they probably won’t see but @iamgrayfox and @skittlegeek03 for drawing TTFOU scenes for me oMFGG

soundtrack song: Fall Apart - Every Avenue

full soundtrack: x

as always, let me know what you think! shoot me an ask if you wanna be notified when I update!

Hercules woke up to a sore neck, a hard surface, and an incessant ringing in his ear. It wasn’t one of his nicer mornings. Rubbing the back of his neck, he sat up and realized that at some point during the night Alexander, whom he’d so kindly allowed in his bed, had pushed him onto the floor.

Hercules picked up his phone and checked who was trying to call him. Lafayette. He’d called four times, left three voicemails, and texted seven times. Mid-ring on the fifth call, Hercules smashed the ‘talk’ button with his thumb.

“What do you want, Laf?” he snapped.

“Mon dieu,” his friend’s voice melted sweetly through the speaker. “Aren’t we grumpy this morning.”

“I fell off my bed last night and your incessant calls woke me up.”

“Well, evidently not quickly enough. Our group presentation is in ten minutes, mon ami.”

In Alexander’s emotional turmoil of the previous night, Hercules had completely forgotten to practice his half of the presentation.

Or, y’know, write his half of the presentation.

“Fuck,” Hercules said quietly.

He clicked the speakerphone button so Laf could coach him through his lines as he pulled his clothes on and tried to smooth out his hair.

“Herc!” Lafayette yelled, halting the Hercules whirlwind for a moment. “John told me what happened, so when you told me Alex was sick I figured he was having an Alex moment and that’s why you were staying home. I wrote stuff down on a cue card for you. Chillax.”

Hercules sighed in relief.

“Who taught you the word, ‘chillax,’ Laf?”

“John. He said tons of people say it.”

“He lied,” Hercules chuckled. “You sound like a tool. No one’s said that since the nineties.”

“Fuck,” Lafayette muttered. “I told my TA that I spent the weekend chillaxing at your house. Anyways, see you soon. Hurry!”

Before Lafayette even hung up the phone, Hercules was out the door, leaving Alexander a text for when he woke up.

Herc: Had to go to class. I’ll be back soon. don’t do anything dumb. please, for the love of god, don’t do anything dumb.

When he got back from his class, Alexander was laying on Hercules’s bed, staring at the ceiling. He looked like he was deep in thought.

“He said he loved me, Herc,” Alexander remarked lightly when Hercules got back.

“I know,” Hercules replied. “I heard.”

“And I told him that I cheated on him. At the exact same time.”

Hercules didn’t know what to make of these statements—he couldn’t tell if Alexander was still sad or if he was disassociating from the upsetting previous night.

“I know.”

“And now, Hercules Mulligan, I have fucked up my life so incredibly that I cannot seem to function wholly enough to get up off of your bed. You see, when I kissed our dear friend John Laurens, I’m afraid that I have royally fucked up not only my relationship with my boyfriend, but also my friendship with John. And the pièce de résistance? There is nothing I can do to fix it.”

Alexander turned his head and shot a tight-lipped smile at Hercules, but his eyes were dark and humourless.

“You need to talk to him, Alex.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Alexander waved a dismissive hand and went back to staring at the ceiling. Hercules had never seen him like this. Was he broken?

After their kiss, John wasn’t sure what he’d expected to happen. No matter what, though, he hadn’t expected to be ignored by Alexander for over a full day. He’d told him everything and he wasn’t crazy for thinking that they’d shared an intimate moment, was he?

For the amount that Alexander talked, he was pretty shitty at communicating. What had that night meant to him? John wasn’t stupid—he hadn’t expected Alexander to drop everything and break up with Thomas after they kissed—but he also hoped that it meant more to Alex than pity.

John was never one for pity—that was why he rarely told people about his father. He only told his friends because he figured they were past that point. And yet…

The Alexander Situation, as Lafayette was calling it, would not let John be. It nagged at his brain like an annoying fly, buzzing by his head right when he thought it was gone. He wanted to reach out and talk to Alexander, but he didn’t want to be the first to break the silence. What if he didn’t want to talk? What if Thomas had found out and they were in a fight? He didn’t want to make things worse.

Lafayette was getting annoyed by this ever-preoccupied John. Hercules, who had been supposedly taking care of a sick Alexander, was also busy, which left Laf laying on John’s floor staring at the ceiling saying things like, “Why can’t you just find yourself a nice boy and settle down, Johnny?”

To which John would usually sigh before saying, “Are you suggesting yourself? Make out with me and let’s see if you’ve got what it takes.”

And Laf would scoff, “Please. You already know I do.”

And John would shrug because Laf was probably right and they’d go back to staring at the ceiling, or doing homework, or watching Netflix.

It’s not that he wasn’t affected by the kiss, it’s just that it was easier for him to ignore how wonderful it was at the time and how much it hurt to know that it was probably brought on by one of his best friends pitying him.

So, he bantered with Laf. He went to class. He made out with a guy from the first floor of their building. He kept his mind off of Alexander.

Until he got the text.

John was laying in his bed, contemplating whether or not he needed to attend his night class on social justice when his phone lit up from across the room. Since Laf was in class with Hercules, he’d assumed it was one of them updating him on how boring it was. When he checked the message, however, he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Alex: Okay, we need to talk about what happened. I’m coming over.

John was surprised that stubborn Alexander Hamilton was making the first move in what was surely going to be an awkward encounter, but he wasn’t going to question it—it saved him the trouble of doing so.

Quickly, he got dressed, changing from the short sleeves he was comfortable wearing around Lafayette into a hoodie. The bruises on his arms had faded mostly into yellowish splotches, but he didn’t need Alexander staring at them the whole time they were talking. He still wasn’t sure what Alexander’s endgame was, but he needed to find out.

“John,” Alexander called through the door after a soft knock. “Can I come in?”

“It’s open,” John replied.

Alexander opened the door and tried to smile at John, but it looked like more of a pained grimace. John noticed right away how tired he looked. His eyes were puffy and he had bags under them so dark that they looked like bruises.

This was already so awkward…John didn’t know where to begin. Alexander should never have kissed him. Although, John was the one who practically begged for it. He remembered telling Alexander not to speak and ruin the moment at the time; it had just been so perfect. When they spoke now it was almost guaranteed to ruin everything, so John refused to make the first move. Why the hell would he ruin what he’d been longing for for so long?

“So…Thomas broke up with me.”

Wait, what?

“You told him,” John remarked. It wasn’t a question.

Alexander nodded and bit his lip, staring down at the floor. He looked upset and suddenly John understood why his eyes were so puffy—he’d been crying.

“I had to,” Alexander replied quietly.

John watched as Alexander stepped closer, shrinking the space between them. He reached out slowly for John’s hand and pulled him into his chest. Instantly, John felt his defences go up. He jerked away and felt his cheeks heat up in anger.

“What are you doing?” he snapped.

Alexander looked as if he’d just been smacked in the face. “What do you mean?” he asked slowly. “I thought you wanted this.”

John gaped at him, incredulous.

“I don’t want to be your disgusting leftovers! Thomas dumped you because you can’t keep your fucking hands to yourself and you think I’m just going to be there waiting for you? Fuck no, Alexander. That’s not how this works.”

Alexander stared at John, at a loss for words. His hand still hovered awkwardly where it tried to hold John’s.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t—”

“Maybe next time,” John spat, “you should think before you take pity on one of your best friends and decide to kiss them when you’re supposedly in a happy relationship. Because that’s why you did it, right? Because you felt bad for me? I’m not some unstable little kid, Alexander. I’ve been dealing with this shit all my life; I can handle it. I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.”

John huffed and looked up at the ceiling, blinking back tears of frustration. He knew he was being mean but he couldn’t help himself. He didn’t want to be Alexander’s second choice. He could feel himself getting emotional. Why did Alexander have to fuck everything up? John wished he could go back to hating Thomas and feeling sorry for himself about their relationship. This was way more complicated. Now, there was no physical reason to not be with Alexander—it was on principle. John refused to be taken advantage of.

“I didn’t do it because I felt sorry for you,” Alexander whispered.

“Really?” John asked harshly. “Because now you’re standing in my room crying to me about how Thomas broke up with you after you made the choice to kiss me. What did you expect, Alexander? You can’t have it all. Sometimes you need to make a goddamn choice, and you made this one way too late. I’m done waiting for you to call the shots—”

Before John could finish his sentence, Alexander lunged forward and crushed his lips to John’s. This was not tender like their other kiss had been. He bit down on John’s lip and tugged at it with his teeth. John yelped in surprise but did not pull away—if Alexander could kiss John without having feelings, John could do the same to him.

John tugged on the collar of Alexander’s jacket to pull him closer, and Alexander locked his hands behind John’s back. They kissed roughly. John traced the outline of Alexander’s teeth with his tongue as Alexander nibbled on his bottom lip. Pulling his shirt over his head, John pushed Alexander down on his bed and walked across the room to lock his door.

“Take that off,” he growled, indicating Alexander’s jacket. He quickly obliged, throwing it in a pile on the floor. John tore the shirt off over Alexander’s head and ran a hand over his chest. He leaned down and pressed his mouth to his chest, sucking the skin—hard—to leave a dark hickey in his wake. He did this again on Alexander’s neck and on his jawline, feeling the vibration in Alexander’s throat as he moaned.

He didn’t really know where they were heading—whether they were going to stop or not. He was furious, but he also wanted this more than anything, which confused him.

“Fuck me,” Alexander groaned quietly.

John pulled back for a moment, genuinely surprised.

“What did you say?”

Alexander’s eyes grew darker, lustful. “I said fuck me.”

John bit his lip and looked down at Alexander. This was where he should have stopped. But he thought about all the times he’d imagined fucking him (it was more often than he cared to admit). So he didn’t stop.

It was nothing like John had pictured it to be—he was rough with Alexander, leaving hickeys trailing up his spine as he fucked him hard from behind.

When they finished, John rolled off Alexander and laid down beside him, panting. As his heart rate slowed to normal speed he realized how little this would probably help the situation. At least he felt a bit less angry.

“Fuck,” Alex whispered.

John nodded in agreement.

“So,” Alexander began. John refrained from rolling his eyes—this was when Alexander ruined things by talking. “John I know you’re probably still mad. I mean, that wasn’t exactly loving. But please just know that I really am sorry. I know that I’m a fucking idiot: I get caught up in a moment way too easily and get carried away. I didn’t kiss you the other night because I wanted to hurt you. I genuinely wasn’t thinking. And don’t worry—I fucked a lot of shit up, so I’m already being punished for it. You can at least take comfort in that. And—”

“Alexander,” John said exasperatedly. “Would you do me a favour and shut the fuck up?”

Alexander turned his head to look at John. There was a kindness somewhere in his eyes that wasn’t there before—the kindness that Alexander was used to seeing.

John sighed and stood up to pull his joggers back on. They’d seen each other naked long enough for one day. Baby steps. He tossed Alexander his jeans and sat down beside him on the edge of the bed.

This time, John reached for Alexander’s hand. He didn’t speak, or even look at Alexander as he tangled their fingers together. They were in a fragile place—not much was holding them together at the moment. It was like their interlocked fingers were the physical manifestation of their connection; it wouldn’t take much to break it.

Alexander released John’s hand and wrapped his arms around his back, pulling him down to lie with him on the bed. He curled up in front of Alexander, who slid one arm under John’s neck and the other over his side. Involuntarily, the corners of John’s lips tugged upwards into a small smile. He hated to admit it, but he felt safe.

Later that night, Lafayette knocked quietly on the door connecting his and John’s rooms. Hercules had asked him if he knew where Alexander was, and Laf had a sneaking suspicion John might know.

When John didn’t answer the knock, Lafayette creaked the door open and his jaw dropped. He immediately ripped his phone out of his pocket to text Hercules.

Laf: ALEX SPOONING JOHN. BOTH SHIRTLESS. JOHN’S HAIR IS DOWN. SEX HAIR. THEY FUCKED.

Hercules replied immediately.

Herc: fucking finally.

Laf smiled and tucked his phone back into the pocket of his jeans. As horrified as he was that he’d walked in on his best friends cuddling, he was happy they’d finally accepted the fact that they’d obviously been in love since they’d met.

The world was, for once, at peace.

#someone draw me laurens in joggers omGDFG #ttfou #to the four of us