Thanks to OMEGA ZX 420 for reviewing.

AUs for the Accident Prone: "I got a nosebleed in class and the teacher made you escort me to the nurse as my nose gushes blood all over the place"
Prompt by fancifulwording

Summer School is Dumb (John/Roxy)

= Be Roxy Lalonde

You are now Roxy Lalonde. Congrats. There's nothing like the magical wonder of spending your summer vacation indoors, surrounded by kids you don't like, attending summer school for one of the worst subjects ever fabricated.

Namely, Calculus.

Fun fact: Sir Isaac Newton (who lived a long-ass time ago, like apples a lot, had some crazy hair, and was apparently magic?) invented Calculus one day, back in who the fuck knows when, because he wanted to study Physics. Fucker literally invented a math so that he could begin to study something else, the unmitigated nerve of some people.

Or, at least that's what you tell people at parties. Honestly, you weren't paying that much attention in the 'History of Calculus' section of the original course. That's probably why you're here in summer school in the first place. Oh well, this notebook isn't going to doodle passionately on itself and you aren't about to listen to Mr. Noodleman as he lectures with all the enthusiasm as of a brain-dead pack mule.

No offence intended to any brain-dead pack mules who may be reading your thoughts at the moment.

Anyways, you'd just finished drawing one of those cool 'S' things when the monotonous drone of infinite hyperintegers or something equally lame is suddenly broken by a stern exclamation of teacher-ish disapproval.

"Mr. Egbert!" Cracks Mr. Noodleman shrilly. You look up from your notebook to see the top of John's messy head protruding from behind a textbook, ineffectively hiding him from view. "Just exactly what do you think you're doing?"

There's a single beat as John probably debates whether lower his book or melt into oblivion and disappear forever. However, John is unfortunately not Meltman and must eventually succumb to the superior pressure. He lets his textbook fall forward onto his desk with a solid thunk and the Noodle-miester lets out a sharp gasp when he sees that both of John's nostrils are doing a rather fantastic impression of a leaky faucet, spewing more blood down into his shirt and hands than Silly String at an Aquabats concert.

John fumbles for a moment.

"Uh- my nose is bleeding." He eventually proclaims.

"Well, that most certainly goes without saying! What's the matter with you?"

"It's allergies, I think." John attempts to staunch the flow with his hand, but only ends up dripping several drops onto the desk top.

"Get out!" Mr. Noodleman orders, shitty toupee flopping dangerously as he jerks his head towards the door. "I can't have you bleeding all over the place. Do you know how much this school equipment costs?" For emphasis, he slaps his palm onto the surface of a nearby desk, cracking the poor plywood like a saltine cracker.

As he quickly scrabbles to piece the furniture back together, John attempts to take his leave. Rising from his seat, he makes a bee-line for the door, passing by your desk in the process and trailing blood in his wake. You make a snap decision and shove your notebook into your bag, jumping to your feet to catch him by the elbow.

"Let me escort you to the school nurse, John." You speak loud enough for the whole room, Mr. Noodleman included, to hear. "We don't want you bleeding out on us on the way there. Haha."

"Whaa-" John turns back to look at you, mouth opening wide to argue, but you don't give him a chance. Already, you're shepherding him towards the door by your grip on his arm, quick enough so that by the time Mr. Noodleman straightens up, you and Johnny are already gone. You are Quicksilver, it is you.

"I don't need you to escort me." John manages, once you're both out in the hall. "I get nose bleeds all the time around July. My sister says it's because of the dry weather, but I think I'm just allergic to summer school. Heh."

"Aw that's cute." You pat him on the arm. "Welp. See ya!"

You shove your hands in the pockets of your skirt and start off down the hall, whistling a merry tune. The last thing you expect is for John to give chase.

"W-Wait!" His sneakers slap loudly against the floor behind you. "I thought you were going to walk with me to the nurse's office."

"Yeah, I thought it was pretty obvious that I lied about that to get out of class. I'm sure you'll be fine on your own, and besides," You give a small wave over your shoulder. "You said that I didn't need to escort you anyways."

"Well… you don't, not really, but don't you think it's a little cheap to skip out on class like this?"

You come to a stop and swivel to face John. He must be caught off guard, because he's suddenly stumbling to prevent himself ramming into you full-force. Regardless, he comes to a stop as well a little closer than the typical distance you'd expect people to stand. You catch a whiff of coffee grounds mixed in with the metallic scent of blood as he quickly retreats to a respectable distance.

"I don't need this class, John." You begin, as he collects himself. "The only reason I failed it the first time is because I didn't care enough to pay attention. I'll cram before the final exam this time, pass with flying colors, and scornfully look back on these wasted days, wearing one of those fancy graduation hats and a stiff middle finger." You rest your hands on your hips. "In fact, the only cheap thing about this situation is that I could be doing something actually worthwhile right now instead, like partying it up or catchin' em all or coding some sweet programs."

"You like coding?" John's eyes light up suddenly. "That's awesome! But, don't you need math to do stuff like that?"

"Psshh. Nope." You scoff at the idea. "They invented calculators for a reason, Johnny, so that weary souls like us wouldn't have to slave away in the math mines, swinging our pickaxes at the trigonometric gem doohickeys and hauling them to the surface in derivative mine carts with tangent functions slapped on the side."

"I guess that makes sense."

"You're damn right it does."

"You know, I'm something of a coder myself." John says proudly, although the effect is ruined by the hand over his face, causing his voice to be muffled. "I bought one of those Java for Idiots textbooks last month and started teaching myself how to make, like, loops and whatnot!"

"Really?" You're actually impressed. You hadn't known John was interested in the computer-al sciency arts. Hell, you hadn't really known anything about John until right now. He'd sat a few seats behind you, doing his work quietly, sometimes napping, but never really making an effort to reach out to you, or anyone else for that matter. You've seen him around a few times with Rose or Dave, but you'd always pegged him as the lonely, quiet type, a little cute, really dorky, and, now that you think about it, it's sort of a mystery as to why he's taking summer school in the first place when- fuck aren't you supposed to in the middle of a conversation? "That's pretty rock n rollin, man. Have you dabbled with applets yet?"

"Uh, nope. Not yet." John rubs the back of his neck. "In all honesty, I'm actually not that good. Haha. But I think it'd just be really cool to be one of those badass hackers like Crash Override in Hackers or…" He trails off when a spurt of blood shoots out of his nose like a bullet from a gun and lands right smack-dab in the center of your sweater. "Oh. Oh- shit."

"Maybe we actually should get you to the nurse." You frown at the stain. You really liked this sweater. "Come on, Sir Sprinkler." Taking John by the wrist, you tug him along, back down the hall whence you came. "So anyways, if you're having trouble coding and stuff, I wouldn't mind giving you a few pointers. You know, when we aren't trapped in this shit hole."

John grins at you, flashing some seriously glubbed up chompers in the process. Surprisingly though, it doesn't wig you out. If anything, it sort of… completes the picture.

"Really? You'd do that?" He asks.

"Of course!" You flap your hand as if you can physically beat away the alternative. "Belive it or not, I'm practically Kevin Mitnick, except female and ten times more attractive."

"That's quite the claim." He chuckles. "Thanks, Roxy. I'll make it up to you, promise!"

"Oh, what's a few tutoring sess's among friends, eh? I just hope you're ready to learn. You'll come to find out soon enough, Johnny, that I'm about as rough of an educator as they come."

"Well, I can't wait." And when you look in his eyes, you can tell he's telling the truth.

Damn, maybe your time here won't be as big of a waste as you thought.

It's only when you arrive outside the nurse's office that you realize it's currently summer school, and the nurse isn't even fucking there. Oh well, it doesn't matter anyways. Thanks to some toilet paper stolen from the restroom, John's nose has stopped bleeding, and in all honesty, you weren't looking all that forward to parting ways with him either. Apparently he must feel the same. He asks you to lunch, and who the hell are you to deny him?

Or in other words: Mike attempts to get back into writing Homestuck fanfiction by completely butchering a simple prompt lol regardless, I saw fancifulwording's list of prompt ideas and thought, you know, why the fuck not? We all have to start again somewhere.

Thanks for reading. Send me a prompt if you have any ideas!
- Mike