Typical New Kid Fashion (Chapter 1)

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A.N: I TOLD YOU I'D DO IT. I TOLD YOU I WOULD START WRITING A MULTI-CHAPTER DAVEKAT FIC. ARE YOU PROUD?! Seriously though updates probably every week or so. Unless I start to feel *sparkles* CREATIVITY! Also, because I'm used to writing one shots, chapters may be quite short until I get into the flooowwww.

Be the pissed off brother--->

"-And remember, shouting as you usually do at people can often be taken as a sign of aggression and can be highly-"

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you are currently being forced to endure yet another painstaking lecture by your brother, the self proclaimed Trigger Police.

"-Triggering. I need not remind you that cursing is also highly triggering to a large variety of people. At no point do you mention anything that could be mistaken as-"

You sigh and grab your school bag from besides the door and walk out, leaving Kankri to his blog where people pretend to care about his trigger warnings and rants.

Without looking back, you begin to walk to your high school. Your third high school. The other two sided with Kankri and agreed that Karkat was too aggressive.

Following a chain of events involving honey, dragon plushies and video games, you found yourself... Here. The only high school that would accept you and didn't have any rat infestations.

You walk into the school, hood covering your black hair and hands jammed in your pockets, collecting your time table and staring at the map, trying to find your next lesson. You refused to interact with anyone long enough for them to offer to show you around; from your experience with being the new kid multiple times you knew that any attempt to make friends would end in disaster. And so, you continue to walk in silence, tinny music blaring into your ears from your shoddy, battered earphones and eyes glued to the ground.

And, in typical new kid fashion, you walk into someone. Also, in typical new kid fashion, said person is male. And attractive. And, to end the typical new kid cliché, said person's first words to you are: "Hey, New Kid. Watch where you're going, or you're going to walk into the wrong person." And, in typical hot male fashion, he pats your shoulder and pushed you away, continuing to walk, leaving you a flustered mess of knocked out earphones and confusion. "Typical.." You mutter to yourself, resuming your walk to your first class.

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