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snooby Fall Out Boy
ba dum psh
Ah, yes. The AU that launched a thousand shippers. Although, I wrote this prior to the """"official"""" canon. ur a tru 90's kid if u wrote hs au b4 the popular kidzzzzz~~
Anyway, this was literally written in the span of one class I failed to pay attention in and however long it took me to drink a grande Americano. I'm kind of surprised that it's not completely terrible. The funny thing is, I originally wrote it with Jon being the little punk kid, and then halfway through I was like "Nah man, Arin is totes a lil sack of shit."
I can't remember if I like it or not tbh whoops I'm not reading it again.
Word Count: 1000
Summary: The title is a pretty accurate summary, honestly.
Something light bounced off the back of his head, and Arin grunted and shifted in his seat. It was too fucking early, he didn’t want to get out of bed yet.
“Arin! Wake up you fuckass!”
Arin groaned at the harsh whisper and shifted his head to a more comfortable position in the crook of his arm. He was determined to ignore the world and return to his nap, goddamnit. He had almost drifted back to sleep when an incessant tapping started on his shoulder, and Arin considered the possibility of decking whoever was attached to that finger. He tried to ignore it a bit longer, holding on to an optimistic whim that maybe they would just give up, but then the tapping turned into smacking, and Arin reluctantly cracked open his eyes.
Jon was staring at him with a very pointed glare. He looked like a disappointed parent scolding their child with his eyebrows creased together and his mouth set in a thin line, and Arin offered him a sleepy smile.
“You rang?” he mumbled, his voice coming out scratchy from sleep.
Jon sighed exasperatedly at him before turning his attention to his notebook and jotting whatever the teacher had just written on the board down.
“You’re going to get caught again if you don’t stop that,” he whispered fiercely, shooting a sidelong glance at Arin.
Arin snorted at him in reply. He couldn’t give less of a shit if he ended up in detention again; Mrs. Blackwell could shove her referrals up her ass. He always concentrated better in detention anyway, and Mr. Ducker would help him with his Stats homework. Jon furrowed his brows and opened his mouth, probably to berate him again, but Mrs. Blackwell took that moment to chime in.
“I’m sorry boys, was I interrupting your conversation? Would you like to step outside and finish it since it’s obviously more important than your class work?”
Arin, still with his head on his desk, looked up at her. She was looking at them expectantly with her arms crossed, and every one of their classmates had taken it upon themselves to turn around and stare at them with various levels of contempt as well. He sneered and sat up, preparing to tell her that he sure would love to finish it outside so she wouldn’t feel the need to butt in.
“No ma’am, we’re sorry. I was just explaining how ionic bonds are formed again to Arin, he didn’t quite get it,” Jon quickly interjected, before Arin could open his mouth.
The ferocity in the look that Jon was affixing him with made Arin shrink back in his seat a little, and he just nodded in agreement, throwing in a half-assed smile so Jon wouldn’t castrate him. She leveled another appraising look at them, her eyes focusing more on Arin than Jon, and it took everything he had in him to not run his mouth off at her.
“Please raise your hand the next time you need help, Arin. I’d rather you two not talk in the middle of the lecture,” she said, resuming writing the point she had left off on on the board.
Their classmates slowly returned their attention to class, and Arin slumped back down in his seat. He grinned slyly at Jon who resolutely ignored him and kept his eyes on his paper. Arin sighed and looked at his own notebook. Most of the current page was covered in doodles of the two of them as video game characters, and he picked up his pencil to put the finishing touches on the one of himself standing triumphantly atop a wrecked robot as Zero. Jon as Mega Man stood next to him firing his blaster at a fleeing Gutsman.
Arin knew he should be paying attention, it was just that it was so hard to devote himself to something so irrelevant in his life. He just wanted to grow up and become an animator, or a video game designer, or maybe even an art director for a publishing company. Either way, this Biology class wasn’t teaching him anything that he needed to know to reach those goals.
Every time he brought that up Jon would remind him that to have any of those jobs he had to get into a university, and getting into a university required him to make the best grades he could in high school. They were only sophomores, though, and it still hadn’t sunk in that they only had two more years left. It seemed like a lifetime away to Arin.
A tap on his knee interrupted his thoughts and Arin looked up at Jon questioningly. Jon motioned to the piece of folded paper that was now sitting on Arin’s desk, and then went back to taking his notes. Arin picked it up and unfolded it, revealing Jon’s nearly illegible chicken scratch.
You better not get in more trouble today. My mom gets mad at me every time I come home late from your house because your stupid ass gets detention after school every day.
Arin smirked at the note and hastily wrote a reply. He folded it back up and tapped Jon on the arm, before sliding it on his desk. Arin pretended to take notes while he watched Jon open the note. He blushed as he read it, and Arin had to stifle his laughter in his shoulder.
Just tell her it’s my fault. You probably wouldn’t be so late if I didn’t spend so much time kissing every bit of your body that you let me get my hands on. Which isn’t much, might I add.
Jon, still pink in the face, mouthed ‘fuck you’ at him. Arin faked being hurt and went back to drawing, sniggering to himself.
It took a few minutes, but Arin felt another tap on his knee and the note reappeared. He grinned as he opened it, wondering what Jon’s retort was.
Maybe I’d let you get your hands on more of my body if you weren’t in fucking detention all of the time.
Arin gaped at the words on the paper, and glanced fervently over at Jon. He wasn’t looking back at Arin, seemingly focusing on his sketch of an atom in his notes and looking far too pleased with himself. The little shit.
Arin huffed and crumpled the note up before shoving it in his backpack.
He spent the rest of the class diligently taking notes and resolutely ignored Jon’s muffled laughter.
ba dum psh
Ah, yes. The AU that launched a thousand shippers. Although, I wrote this prior to the """"official"""" canon. ur a tru 90's kid if u wrote hs au b4 the popular kidzzzzz~~
Anyway, this was literally written in the span of one class I failed to pay attention in and however long it took me to drink a grande Americano. I'm kind of surprised that it's not completely terrible. The funny thing is, I originally wrote it with Jon being the little punk kid, and then halfway through I was like "Nah man, Arin is totes a lil sack of shit."
I can't remember if I like it or not tbh whoops I'm not reading it again.
Word Count: 1000
Summary: The title is a pretty accurate summary, honestly.
Something light bounced off the back of his head, and Arin grunted and shifted in his seat. It was too fucking early, he didn’t want to get out of bed yet.
“Arin! Wake up you fuckass!”
Arin groaned at the harsh whisper and shifted his head to a more comfortable position in the crook of his arm. He was determined to ignore the world and return to his nap, goddamnit. He had almost drifted back to sleep when an incessant tapping started on his shoulder, and Arin considered the possibility of decking whoever was attached to that finger. He tried to ignore it a bit longer, holding on to an optimistic whim that maybe they would just give up, but then the tapping turned into smacking, and Arin reluctantly cracked open his eyes.
Jon was staring at him with a very pointed glare. He looked like a disappointed parent scolding their child with his eyebrows creased together and his mouth set in a thin line, and Arin offered him a sleepy smile.
“You rang?” he mumbled, his voice coming out scratchy from sleep.
Jon sighed exasperatedly at him before turning his attention to his notebook and jotting whatever the teacher had just written on the board down.
“You’re going to get caught again if you don’t stop that,” he whispered fiercely, shooting a sidelong glance at Arin.
Arin snorted at him in reply. He couldn’t give less of a shit if he ended up in detention again; Mrs. Blackwell could shove her referrals up her ass. He always concentrated better in detention anyway, and Mr. Ducker would help him with his Stats homework. Jon furrowed his brows and opened his mouth, probably to berate him again, but Mrs. Blackwell took that moment to chime in.
“I’m sorry boys, was I interrupting your conversation? Would you like to step outside and finish it since it’s obviously more important than your class work?”
Arin, still with his head on his desk, looked up at her. She was looking at them expectantly with her arms crossed, and every one of their classmates had taken it upon themselves to turn around and stare at them with various levels of contempt as well. He sneered and sat up, preparing to tell her that he sure would love to finish it outside so she wouldn’t feel the need to butt in.
“No ma’am, we’re sorry. I was just explaining how ionic bonds are formed again to Arin, he didn’t quite get it,” Jon quickly interjected, before Arin could open his mouth.
The ferocity in the look that Jon was affixing him with made Arin shrink back in his seat a little, and he just nodded in agreement, throwing in a half-assed smile so Jon wouldn’t castrate him. She leveled another appraising look at them, her eyes focusing more on Arin than Jon, and it took everything he had in him to not run his mouth off at her.
“Please raise your hand the next time you need help, Arin. I’d rather you two not talk in the middle of the lecture,” she said, resuming writing the point she had left off on on the board.
Their classmates slowly returned their attention to class, and Arin slumped back down in his seat. He grinned slyly at Jon who resolutely ignored him and kept his eyes on his paper. Arin sighed and looked at his own notebook. Most of the current page was covered in doodles of the two of them as video game characters, and he picked up his pencil to put the finishing touches on the one of himself standing triumphantly atop a wrecked robot as Zero. Jon as Mega Man stood next to him firing his blaster at a fleeing Gutsman.
Arin knew he should be paying attention, it was just that it was so hard to devote himself to something so irrelevant in his life. He just wanted to grow up and become an animator, or a video game designer, or maybe even an art director for a publishing company. Either way, this Biology class wasn’t teaching him anything that he needed to know to reach those goals.
Every time he brought that up Jon would remind him that to have any of those jobs he had to get into a university, and getting into a university required him to make the best grades he could in high school. They were only sophomores, though, and it still hadn’t sunk in that they only had two more years left. It seemed like a lifetime away to Arin.
A tap on his knee interrupted his thoughts and Arin looked up at Jon questioningly. Jon motioned to the piece of folded paper that was now sitting on Arin’s desk, and then went back to taking his notes. Arin picked it up and unfolded it, revealing Jon’s nearly illegible chicken scratch.
You better not get in more trouble today. My mom gets mad at me every time I come home late from your house because your stupid ass gets detention after school every day.
Arin smirked at the note and hastily wrote a reply. He folded it back up and tapped Jon on the arm, before sliding it on his desk. Arin pretended to take notes while he watched Jon open the note. He blushed as he read it, and Arin had to stifle his laughter in his shoulder.
Just tell her it’s my fault. You probably wouldn’t be so late if I didn’t spend so much time kissing every bit of your body that you let me get my hands on. Which isn’t much, might I add.
Jon, still pink in the face, mouthed ‘fuck you’ at him. Arin faked being hurt and went back to drawing, sniggering to himself.
It took a few minutes, but Arin felt another tap on his knee and the note reappeared. He grinned as he opened it, wondering what Jon’s retort was.
Maybe I’d let you get your hands on more of my body if you weren’t in fucking detention all of the time.
Arin gaped at the words on the paper, and glanced fervently over at Jon. He wasn’t looking back at Arin, seemingly focusing on his sketch of an atom in his notes and looking far too pleased with himself. The little shit.
Arin huffed and crumpled the note up before shoving it in his backpack.
He spent the rest of the class diligently taking notes and resolutely ignored Jon’s muffled laughter.