Troublemakers!Benchtrio AU

1K Special: The Sidestory Chronicles

  Hello everyone. I hope you've had a lovely morning, afternoon, or night. If not, I hope it gets better. <3 The song is I'm Born to Run by American Authors. Art is by Vita from that one IRL benchtrio stream. 

  Here's the promised 1k special. More like the 2k special, because you guys are amazing and have already boosted my view by leaps and bounds. (2.6k when I woke up, what the heck?) I will be releasing the 2k Special: The Sidestory Chronicles soon as well. As you can see, this is something a bit special. I've decided that every 1k or so, I will publish ?k Special: The Sidestory Chronicles.

  This has come early, because if I wait much longer, you guys will have me at 2k-

  The Sidestory Chronicles will be a special set of stories and ideas that I made that didn't make it into the plot, but could have happened if I'd had time or a place to put them. Consider them exclusive cut scenes of extra content.

  And if you want, if this fits well enough within the theme, I will be taking requests of stories. This is the very first excerpt of the Sidestory Chronicles. 

  Prompt: You know how Wilbur and Schlatt went to highschool together, right? Well, what happens if Wil get sick and it becomes Schlatt's responsibility to take care of him? 

  Wilbur's POV: 

  I rubbed my temples, fending off a headache. I woke up this morning feeling like sh*t, but nevertheless, I'd dragged myself from bed and gotten my sorry self up to school. I was wondering if that was a mistake. 

  Beside me, Schlatt nudged me with his elbow. I glanced at him, and he gestured to the front of the class. I clapped a hand over my mouth and hastily looked back down at my assignment before I could burst into laughter. 

  Now that I was paying attention, the whole class seemed ready to erupt into laughter too. 

  There was a sticky note on the back of Mr. Charleston's *ss that said 'kick me.' How the h*ll had that gotten there, and who was responsible?

  Schlatt winked at me then went back to writing on his paper, leaving me confused. Was he the culprit? Or was it someone else. 

  I struggled to focus on my worksheet as the teacher continued writing on the board. Finally, he turned around and looked at the class crossly. "What?" 

  I bit my lip and dug my fingernails into my free hand, and struggled to finish writing my sentence.

  After a couple awkward moments and Mr. Charleston's threat of detention, a timid girl raised her hand. 

  "Yes, Clara?" he said.

  "U-um," she stammered. "You-you have a..." 

  "A what?" he demanded.

  "A sticky note," she squeaked out, embarrassed.

  "Well, yes, I do have sticky notes. I do not see why that's relevant."

  "N-no. On your-your... Your..."

  "My back?" he asked, reaching behind him. She shook her head.

  "Your... um. Your butt."

  The entire class roared in laughter. Mr. Charleston went red and wretched the sticky note free and read it as Clara buried her face into her hands. 

  "Who did this?" he hissed, livid, over the gales of laughter. I wiped my eyes and rested my head against my desk. It was cool, and soothed my headache that had grown with my intense laughter.