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spideyanakin · 2 years

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10 Things I Hate about you - Chapter 1

Eddie Munson x Harrington!reader

Synopsis - A new rule strikes the Harrington household: if Steve wishes to date ever again, his sister needs to find a boyfriend first. As Steve becomes desperate and thinks of everything in his power to set her up, only one guy comes to mind that will take up a challenge such as that: Eddie Munson.

warnings - Season 1 Steve 👎 , and frog dissecting

word count - 8.2k

proof read by the amazing @inknopewetrust

series masterlist 🌻

the playlist

Author's note - this takes place before the events of season 1, and instead of it happening in November 1983, I changed it to be around April 1984 :)

"Steve, what is this?" Your father slammed a piece of paper on the empty space next to Steve's breakfast. You leaned over to snoop at what was printed on the page. As if second nature to the black ink, you flinched when the line of D's and C's on his report card became clear. Your father’s hand splayed on the paper, your eyes followed the hand only to see his angry face.

"Dad, I swear I can explain! This new teacher has been giving us hell!"

"In every class?"

"No, but–" You watched him fumble with his words as you continued sipping on your orange juice. A loose strand of Steve's hair had fallen onto his forehead as he made frantic movements with his hands in a poor attempt to save himself.

"You're telling me that all of your teachers are being extra mean lately?” His face challenged Steve with narrow eyes. Like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a top hat, he pulled out another paper— your report card.

“Explain this then.”

A neat line of A's mixed in with two stray B's had been stuffed in Steve's face.

He looked in between the paper and you, and then gazed back up to your father. The overbearing, middle-aged man cleared his throat before reading a teacher’s note on Steve’s card.

"Mrs. Jinkles says: Steve is a peculiar student. Although his grades were acceptable last semester, I can see his attention slipping away. Chats too often in class, homework is handed in late…” He peeked up from the sheet back at Steve whose face was sullen. “Shall I continue?"

"No." Steve closed his eyes with a huff, opening them again to meet yours. "She's been distracting me with her loud music and protests and things!"

"That's a lie! Dad, you know that's a lie! He's always with his girlfriends! Bella is what? Your third girlfriend this month!?" You defended yourself in a valiant effort. Steve couldn’t just throw you under some bus to be run over because his personal life was impacting his academic one.

"I just broke up with her,” he replied with the hope it still saved his ass from ruin.

"Then why are you putting the blame on me for your bad grades!?"

"Because you are distracting me!" Steve maintained.

"We both know that's not true!" You protested as you looked at your father whose mouth was opened to speak, but was quickly cut off by Steve's own defense. Your father fixed his glasses at the bridge of his nose and sighed as he watched the two of you bicker, waiting patiently for his turn.

"What are you jealous of me or something? Because you can't get a boyfriend?"

"Have you seen the unwashed miscreants that go to our school?" You snorted. "Plus, high school relationships are… weird. I don't know how you can date someone and know it's never going to last."

"You're just jealous because you're mean to everyone and can't keep any friends."

"Steve!" Your mother interrupted him from the other side of the table. She had been watching the morning unravel like a thread from a wool sweater. Each defense, each lie, building the spool left to wither on the floor.

At her interjection, you watched your father's eyes light up with an idea, his eyes quickly fixing themselves back on Steve’s as the report card stayed glued between his fingertips.

"Ok!” He nearly shouted from the noise. “Stop it, you two, now! New rule: Steve isn't allowed to date until you do." He pointed to you and a loud laugh escaped your lips.

‘This was his punishment?’ You thought to yourself. How pathetic.

"BUT SHE'S NEVER GOING TO FIND A BOYFRIEND BEFORE THE END OF HIGH SCHOOL!" Steve wailed as his hand met the table and shook the glasses–its contents swooshing like the sea.

"Oh,” your father chuckled, “I really like this." He nodded in self-approval. "We can sleep in peace knowing you'll both pass Junior year and then graduate with no distractions." His angry face had turned into a content one. He dropped the two report cards on the sideboard behind the dining table before sitting and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"But that's not fair!" Steve started whining which made you grin and stick your tongue out to him as you grabbed the maple syrup bottle and poured some on your pancakes.

"When your sister dates, I'll trust you to date again."

"But-"

"No buts! It will teach you a lesson," he said pointedly.

"I hate it here" Steve groaned, throwing his head back, and sighing in desperation. "Mom,” he tried one last path, “you can't let this happen!"

"I'm sure you'll survive without girls for a year and a half." She didn't look up from the apple she was cutting. "I'm sure it will do you some good."

The clock struck 8:30 slower than Steve would have liked, and he found his head hurting earlier in the day than he wished. As he waited for you, he turned up the volume, his car radio already playing Africa by Toto. He closed his eyes, trying to get the distant chatter and morals about how that was a 'good lesson' for him to learn and girls were 'not the only thing he should care about' away from his thoughts. About a minute later, you stuffed yourself and your bag in Steve's passenger seat with a sigh as the peaceful music started to dance across your mind.

"Could you at least change?" Of course Steve had to start speaking again. As if his whining over breakfast hadn't been enough.

"Why? You don't support women's rights?" You looked down at your shirt. You were wearing a tight white shirt that showed off your shapes with red hand prints painted over your boobs, and one hand print on the side of your ribs. It was controversial, it was risky. However, it was completely and utterly you. "You don't think women should speak up?"

"I do, but It's weird enough I'm driving you to school. I don't need you to be dressed like… this," He looked at you up and down. "At least close your sweater until we get there?"

"Deal with it."

"God!” He griped. “I can't wait for your car to get repaired."

"Can you shut up, please?" You closed your eyes. "I'm trying to enjoy this music. I don't own this tape."

"Yeah, that's because you spend all your money on that devil worshiping crap that makes my ears bleed."

"Don't you insult my music taste," you hit him with the sleeve of your sweater, which caused Steve to instantly hit you back with the back of his hand.

"Hey!" You slapped his shoulder.

"You hey!" He slapped your shoulder back.

You slapped his arm as a reply and he did the same, an endless slap fight like the multiple ones you had as kids starting. You continued bickering, in an attempt to win you tried to kick him but your leg was stuck in between the side of the car and your bag. So instead, you slithered a hand into his perfect hair and shook it all up.

"NO! Y/N NOT THE HAIR! Please!" He yelled. Hands flying to stop the way your arms and shoulders came down. When he was satisfied that he was safe, he reached up for the rear mirror. "You really had to?"

"Yeah, you deserved it. Now start the car or we're going to be late for school."

"Oh, and I wonder who's fault that is?"

"Please tell mom and dad you've got a boyfriend or something."

"No." You slammed your locker in front of his face and shouldered your bag.

"Please?" He begged again, following as you started walking towards class.

"Why do you want another girlfriend so badly?" You wondered aloud as you removed the tape of Kill ‘Em All from your walkman; pocketting it to replace it with Master of Reality.

"Because this time I really really like her! I want to make a move but you didn’t help me at all, and now they’re just being assholes about the grades!”

"They're not being mean," you shook your head, laughing to yourself. "Have you seen your grades? I get where they come from."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You don't know how hard it is to be paired with her and not being able to actually ask her out, or just hold her hand and kiss her. First period was hell. I absolutely need you to get a boyfriend."

"Mm-mm, nope." You shook your head no. "I told you, dating in high school is stupid." You pressed the on button and Steve could faintly hear the start of Children of the Grave playing. He watched as you placed your headphones over your ears, clearly wanting out of the conversation.

He made a frantic move to step in front of you. Blocking your path forward, you stopped because his puppy-dog eyes hounded you. "Please?" His hands came together as if he was praying. You barely heard the word, but you could clearly read his lips.

"No!" You said it a bit too loud over your music. Steve's face changed to a look of defeat, and then, he gave you the finger.

"I hate you." You barely heard the words but could clearly make them out again.

"Love you too!" You pouted and made a heart with your hands, grinning as you watched him roll his eyes and drop his hands in defeat. "Bye," you almost screamed before disappearing into another hallway but held it back in a small victory.

You tossed your bag over your chair and melted in your seat the second you walked into the classroom. You felt a hand reaching up next to you and before you could even register the intruder, your headphones fell from your head and onto your shoulders.

You turned your head to meet Barb’s figure in the seat beside yours. She had a concerned look in her eyes–which she always had but that early in the morning? Something had come up before the bell had even rung. "What's the fuss? I've been seeing you bicker with Steve all morning,” she asked you honestly.

Barb was a good person, a good soul. Sharing with her the quarrel between Steve and yourself wasn’t going to spread a million rumors of some stupid family fued or that you were ‘morally or ethically against high school romance.’

You took a second to breathe, the faint intro of Sweet Leaf coming from the headphones now resting on your shoulders. Had your music really been that loud before? The music came to an abrupt end when you flipped the switch, placing the walkman into a firm grip, and setting it into your bag.

"Steve's mad because our dad made a ‘new rule.’ He's not allowed to date until I do," you wiggled your eyebrows and watched as Barb gave you a silent laugh. The crinkles around her eyes proved that amusement had reached her.

"Oh my god,” Barb drawled, “no way," she whispered as she watched Mrs. Jinkles put her glasses back on to stand up to close the classroom door.

"Yeah, Steve is bribing me to get a boyfriend." You chuckled and she snorted at the thought.

"I don't think I've ever seen him single ever since he walked into Hawkins High."

"Me neither. Apparently he really likes this one girl and wants to date her. That's why he's trying to convince me to get someone." You tucked a strand of hair away from your face as you fished for your book and slammed it a bit too harshly on the table. "Tough luck."

"Please?"

"No."

"I'll do the dishes for two months."

"No."

"Three?"

"Still no."

"Ok, seven!"

"Steve,” you sighed heavily, “what is going to make that little head of yours understand that I don't want a boyfriend."

"You don't actually need one, just to tell mom and dad you have one!"

"I won't do that,” the idea of it just sounded… wrong.

"Why?"

"Because I don't like lying."

"That's bullshit,” he laughed in disbelief.

"I'm not going to help you. So stop asking me." You moved your hands around as you tried to mimic your frustration. "Who’s the girl you want to ask out anyway?"

"Nancy Wheeler."

"What?" You chuckled in your own incredulity. "Is this some kind of joke? You want to date my friends now?” If you could underscore the importance of my, you would have a million times over.

"Friends?"

"Alright, well more like a… good acquaintance; a school friend! But you get my point." You crossed your arms.

"I actually think I really like her! She's super nice. We have physics together."

"Right," you rolled your eyes at him. "Look, I won't help you on this one. Maybe, just maybe, you can think about getting better grades and dad will change his mind. And Nancy Wheeler is far from your type just so you know." You noticed but Steve's face softened at your words. If she saw Steve’s grades, she’d go running for the hills.

"That's what I like about her, though. She's different from the other girls I've dated before."

"Yeah, yeah, spare me the speech Romeo. It won't work on me." You scoffed and oddly enough, lifted your head to spot what was written in bold letters on the chalkboard.

Romeo and Juliet

"See, we even get to study forbidden love. How cute," you patted his shoulder, and he grumbled something you couldn't make out before complaining for the thousandth time today.

"I knew advanced English was a mistake." He melted in his seat as if the subject had defeated him already.

"Morning, class," Mr. Arnold cleared his throat, “now that we are fully finished with World War two poetry, I thought it was the perfect time to start on our beloved Shakespeare." He clapped his hands and asked a girl named Lisa Hemingway if she could hand out the multiple copies of Romeo and Juliet that created a tower on his desk.

The senior girl stood up and grabbed as many copies as she could. When Mr. Arnold saw she couldn't carry them all, he assigned a red-headed Junior named Connor who sat in the front row to hand out the rest.

"I already hate this," Steve mumbled as the second the copy of the pile hit his desk. He took it, groaning as he flipped through the pages. They smelled of must and mildew; ten years of dormancy only to be opened when love was at its most shallow point.

"It's not that bad,” you told him as the next copy hit yours, “I've read it before. The story is pretty gripping."

"You've read this for fun?" He questioned as if it repulsed him.

"Yeah," and you shook it off like a piece of lint on your shoulder.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

"Consider yourselves lucky, we won't do any reading today!" Mr. Arnold stated when Lisa and Connor went back to their seats and only two books remained in the pile he had stacked earlier that morning. Two missing students.

"Connor, I believe you're good friends with Mark?" He questioned the redhead who nodded. "Could you hand him his copy when you see him?" Mr. Arnold handed him the book, leaving only one stray to rest lonely on his desk. "Right, back to work," He sighed.

"Today, we are mainly going to focus on learning about the man behind the book," he smiled and sat atop his desk. "Can anyone tell me what they know about Shakespeare?"

You raised your hand.

"Please lower your hand," Steve begged. "You're embarrassing me enough as it is and I don't need you rubbing it in my face that you skipped a grade."

"I skipped a grade in elementary school, Steve" You whispered back.

"Miss Harrington?"

"I've noticed that he's always written strong female characters,” you began, against Steve’s wishes. “In Romeo and Juliet, Juliet is strong-witted and smart. She might look and be helplessly in love, but she's still intelligent and understands a lot of things women are told not to. It feels like Shakespeare understood the struggle of women, especially in works like…” You pondered, “Twelfth Night. Viola must be the strongest female character in history."

Mr. Arnold nodded along as you continued on. "Viola is shipwrecked, and left an orphan so she disguises herself as a man to get by. It's a brilliant feminist writing for its time."

"I do agree that Shakspeare tends to write strong female characters, but you do forget that mature women tend to miss in most of his work. And when he does, he makes them mad or somehow evil."

"Yeah, you're totally right,” You agreed.“But still, he doesn't rule them out or make them faded background characters like other writers from that century–"

The door swung open in the middle of your words. All the heads turned away from Mr. Arnold, you, or their books, and revealed the owner of the lonely book: Eddie Munson.

The hair on his head was wild, a patch on his jean jacket was two stitches from falling out. One of his shoes was completely covered in dirt and a crumpled paper sat in his ringed hand.

"What have I missed?" He grinned with perfectly white teeth; barring it for Mr. Arnold as the older man sighed at the intrusion but had learned to expect nothing less from Eddie Munson.

"Strong female characters in Shakespeare," you spoke up before Mr. Arnold could get a word out. He had, after all, interrupted your train of thought.

"Great!” He said at first as though it were intriguing enough for him to stay. But as he continued, his words became shells of sarcasm. “Sounds amazing, keep up the good work," he nodded before opening the classroom door and walking straight back out of it–not a minute had passed since he entered it.

"Mr. Munson!" Mr. Arnold attempted to call out, but quickly realized it was useless and crossed his arms in aggravation. "Is he even trying?" He sighed to himself, shaking his head in despair before grabbing the stray copy of Romeo and Juliet and opening it to the last page where a small description of who Shakespeare was, was written.

"Shakespeare!"

You never got to pick up where you left off.

"I need Y/n to get a boyfriend," Steve declared as he dropped his tray on the table and looked at you expectantly from across the room.

You were standing on the other side of the cafeteria behind a table. Nancy, Barbara, and another girl he didn’t know stood beside you. Your sweater was long gone and the shirt you had made was exposed. Nancy and the stranger Steve didn't recognize wore the same one while Barb was holding pamphlets next to you. A white banner in front of the table spelling 'WOMEN'S RIGHTS, WE HAVE A VOICE!’ BAKE SALE stood proudly in black and red lettering.

"Good day to you too," Carol looked around his tray before snatching his granola bar. "Ew, who even eats the nutty fudge flavor?" She scrunched her nose before throwing it back on his tray. She shouldn’t have ever tried to take it from him today.

"They were out of butter almond, sorry," he replied dryly before taking a seat and starting to pick at his food. "Anyway, my dad started this new stupid rule where I can't date another girl until Y/n finds a boyfriend," Steve looked back at you again and back at his food.

"Oh my god."

"I know!"

"You're fucked."

"You mean unfucked, for the rest of high school." Tommy snickered with a sly grin.

"Haha,” Steve’s face flattened, “very funny." He poked at a french fry before dropping his fork completely. "It doesn’t have to be this way! I can try to help her get a boyfriend! It’s not that hard to find a date!"

"Good luck with that. I heard the last guy who tried to ask her out got a broken nose… bled all over the gym floor."

"God, I don't even know how we're related," Steve sighed helplessly. "My point is–” he clarified, “if I want to ask Nancy out, I need her to find someone, and quickly. My chance with Nance will go right out the window otherwise."

"You in a rush or something?"

"Do you know how hard it is to be paired up with her and not get to ask her out!? It's pure torture!"

"Calm down Casanova," Tommy ripped the top of his milk carton. "The only way you're going to get a guy to go out with her is if you pay him," he took a sip of his drink before speaking again, "and even then, you'd have to pay him good money."

"I could do that," Steve mumbled as if the idea wasn’t screaming ‘that is a horrible idea, don’t do it!’

"Wait, that's actually a brilliant idea!” He settled on instead. “We just have to figure out who we're going to pay."

"Hmm," Tommy looked around the cafeteria and for once, every male student was a fresh pick. It could be a squirly freshman or a hulking senior and either would want the money and laughs for kicks. "Sam?"

"The A.V club nerd? Do you want him to get even more bullied? She made him cry once, remember?"

Tommy scrunched up his nose at the memory. But, the guy would admit he had an itching to see it happen again.

"Cameron?" Carol suggested as she perked her head up at the game.

"A Jock?" Steve laughed in amusement. "She would kick him in the balls before he even could get a word out."

"Byers!"

"No, no,” Steve objected, “he's too… soft. She'll eat him alive."

"Yeah, but don't they listen to the same music or something?"

"No, he listens to The Clash."

"And? Isn't that what she likes?"

"No, she's more into that hard rock stuff" Steve threw his fry back into his plate. "We're never going to find anyone."

"SHIT!" The big double doors of the cafeteria flew wide open, Eddie's voice boomed inside. He was holding what looked like one of those beakers from science class filled to the brim with a neon blue liquid. He skidded to a stop as the doors flew open, looking in the direction best suited for his escape as the bubbles began to form at the beaker's top. Steve had no idea what it was, but by the look on the face of the teacher who was running after him… it didn't look safe.

“MR. MUNSON!” An angry, elderly voice called after him as the doors teetered on open and closed, open and closed.

“This is my beaker, Davis!” He shouted at the teacher coming closer with every second. Eddie moved quickly, trying not to spill the liquid as his exit was drawing closer with every step. “You can’t take it away when it’s not finished!”

“MR. MUNSON THAT IS A DANGEROUS EXPERIMENT!”

“COME AND TAKE IT FROM ME THEN!” Eddie shouted back as the cafeteria watched in hilarity and ridiculousness. Eddie Munson could always cause a scene, bring a little bit of joy, and go back to being an outcast the same day.

"Oh God,” Carol rolled her eyes, “what is he up to now?" She brought her stare back to Steve and her boyfriend. "Did you hear, they're saying he won't graduate this year?"

"Rumor has it it's because he went to jail for a month. Remember when everyone was wondering where he was?"

"I thought it was because he went off and tried to join a cult or something?"

"Didn't people say it's because he was posing for a porn magazine?"

"I heard he ate a live duck once"

"Everything but beak and feet."

Steve narrowed his eyes as he watched Eddie grab a cookie from your table as he passed by, muttering a thank you as he put it in his mouth and continued his run. You shouted something at him about being an asshole. Steve's gaze fixed back on Eddie as he left through the doors, the opposite side of the one he came from, beakers still in hand and the cookie already half chewed.

Mr. Davis who was following him had his glasses crooked over his nose and the little hair he had left was flying around as he tried to catch up with the mad teen. He kept his eyes on the door as it closed behind them.

"Jesus! That guy is deranged!”

Biology wasn't Steve's favorite subject, especially when he had just eaten a full meal and they had to dissect frogs. Mina Trevor had already thrown up and was sent to the nurse, and a Junior named James fainted the second the frog was put on his table. That left the quiet Lisa, whom he had been paired with, to work alone on the repulsive task.

Even with gloves, everything was slimy and disgusting. Tommy wasn't being helpful as he did everything on purpose to mess it up, and would wiggle his dirty fingers in front of Steve's face just to get a go at him. For a second he envied you. He knew this was the type of thing you'd do with a smile on your lips, and he knew you would enjoy every second of it when it was your turn next period.

"You're being disgusting," Carol noticed, scrunching her face as she watched her boyfriend clown around with a piece of the frog. The smell made her want to gag. Her gaze traveled to behind his shoulder, spotting Eddie Munson paired up with one of his friends at the back of the class.

He pulled a knife out from his pocket and stabbed it in the middle of the frog, his friend chuckling as he did.

"Hey,” she called out to the two boys as the thought popped into her head, “maybe we should set Munson up with your sister." Carol smirked as she watched him poke around the dead animal for a brief second before stopping.

Both Steve and Tommy turned around to follow her gaze. All of their eyes were on Eddie as he pulled a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, using the gas tap in the middle of the table to light it up. His friend scrunched up his nose and grabbed the cigarette from his lips, putting it out on the frog.

An unintentional branding of a dead frog.

"Yeah…" Steve's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "How did we not think of this at lunch!?"

"Because he's a mad man!? Steve, you're not serious?" Tommy turned back around to face his girlfriend and best friend.

"He's the only guy on the list she won't scare off! Have you seen him? He's the perfect candidate."

"Plus!” He added. “He definitely listens to the same music as her, and reads the same nerd shit.”

"I wouldn't do it,” Tommy tried to argue, “she's still your sister, Steve. Eddie's just… trouble." The expression on his face quickly changed with his thoughts. "Although, I would love to see the freak try to seduce your sister," he smirked.

"How funny would that be?" Carol slapped her hand on the table. "And he's totally broke. He will gladly take your money."

Steve's eyes sparkled with mischief as he turned back around to take another look at Eddie Munson pulling another cigarette out of the carton.

"I think we found our guy."

The next morning, Steve opened his sock drawer to find as much of his leftover cash as he could to invest in his little plan. With the box of stray coins and the savings he kept hidden behind a pair of blue striped socks, he found about a hundred dollars. It was a bonus that Tommy and Carol had promised to chime in when they chose Eddie as the candidate–or victim… he wasn’t sure if you’d eviscerate the metalhead or not.

Steve grabbed his wallet and pulled a twenty from it. In addition to the ten bucks he already had in his pockets, that would be enough to convince Eddie, pay him, and still have spare money for lunch.

"Why are you smiling?" You wondered as you watched your brother make his way down the stairs; a pair of white high top Nikes in his hand and his blue sports bag hanging on his left shoulder.

"Nothing,” he grinned like a madman, “I just realized my time as a ‘Handsome Bachelor’ might actually be nice." He kept smiling before sitting down on the last step and lacing up his shoes.

"That's the spirit" Your dad mumbled from behind his morning paper.

"You're acting suspicious. Mom, don't you think he's being suspicious?" You turned your head to her to get the reassurance that his demeanor was off and you weren’t losing it.

"Let your brother be," she fixed a strand of hair. "Honey, can you pass me the coffee pot, please?"

"Of course," your father passed the pot towards her while you eyed Steve, an apprehensive eyebrow raised.

When Steve gave you an innocent shrug back, you placed two fingers in a peace sign to your eyes and then switched to pointing to him before taking your seat at the breakfast table. The words of ‘I’m watching you’ silently said.

The only benefit to this breakfast was that it was more peaceful than the previous one.

"Thank you for being dressed appropriately today," Steve mumbled as you buckled your seat belt a half hour later. Breakfast settling in your stomachs, school was the only thing that could distract you from the curiosity-biting enigma that was Steve Harrington, your dutiful, stupid brother.

"Right… because sports class is more important than women's rights."

"Yeah, it totally is, and it’s gym, not sports class," He mumbled as he started the car. "Also you've read the book right? Romeo and Julie" Steve narrowed his eyes as he watched the road.

"Juliet."

"Right, yeah, what happens in the chapters we were supposed to read?"

"You haven't read it? Steve, have you seen your grades?" You gawked at him with baffled eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he brushed it off, “just tell me what happened?"

"Firstly, they’re not chapters, they’re acts and scenes,” you lamented, “and if you would have even taken the time to open the book, you would have seen that we only had two scenes to read which equals to barely ten pages."

"Good for you,” he replied blandly. “So, what happened?"

"Street fight between the Montagues and Capulets,” he would just badger you with questions the entire way anyway, so you faulted and told him what happened.

"The what- what?" He stopped the car at a stop sign.

"Oh fuck off."

"What do you mean ‘fuck off!?’ I'm asking for your help!"

"And I'm telling you: read. the. book. I'm not your tutor."

"But you've already read it! So, I don't need to! We can just unite our Harrington brains."

"I'm not helping you,” you shook your head.

"You're being really mean lately, you know that?" He argued because he didn’t get his way.

"I thought I was always mean,” you tipped your head to the side, “that's why I can't get any friends, remember?"

"Yeah, but you're being even more mean. You won't help me!" The ride to school gladly came to an end as he finished his sentence. You opened the door, your bag already over your shoulder.

"I'll see you later," you slammed the door of his car shut and started to walk away.

"Hey! What did I do!?" He shouted out of his car's open window, but you flipped him the finger instead. Steve looked at you as you disappeared into the crowd with a confused look on his face.

"Crazy," he muttered as he thought back to the way your face fell and your words became dry before you slammed the door in his face. He grabbed his bag, confusion riddled over his features as he made his way to the football field.

He eyed the crowd of students that sat on the bleachers. The entire junior class sat in the middle and a few seniors who had a free period were scattered at the opposite ends, chatting away and finishing up the last touches of their homework.

You sat in a middle row, eyes glued as you listened to the teacher. Steve knew you had seen him, he also knew that you knew he was watching you. You had that determined look in your eyes every time the two of you got into arguments. That look where you had to win. That you wouldn't let him talk to you again until he made a move.

But of course, Steve knew he had done nothing wrong.

His eyes landed on Carol and Tommy who were sitting at the end of the front row. Carol was sipping on a cup of coffee she had gotten from the machine in the school hallway next to the teacher's lounge. The disgusting watered-down taste made a shiver run through Steve just thinking about it.

"Alright class," the teacher blew his whistle, indicating to Steve and the other stray students who were still standing to take their seats on the bleachers.

"I want you to split into your groups,” everyone knew where they were assigned. “We're starting soccer with group two. So group one and three, do whatever you want as long as you're back by 10:30." He blew his whistle again and the whole mass of students started moving around the bleachers.

"So, how much did you manage to collect for ‘mission boyfriend?’"

"A few bills," Steve nodded. "I think it should be enough."

"We collected a 20 for you if that's any help," Carol fished through her bag before handing it to Steve. "Here."

"Thank you very much," he looked at it proudly before adding it to the 30 he already had.

"When are you going to talk to him?"

"Not today. She's in a very bad mood. She went all crazy on me this morning," Steve looked at you from his spot in the bleachers. He watched as you redid your shoe laces and grabbed the soccer ball Tina threw your way.

"I thought you were in a rush to ask Nancy out?"

"I am,” he nodded, “but I also don't want the plan to fail"

"Well, she looks fine now," Tommy looked at you. You had just kicked the football in James’ face–your poor classmate was rubbing his head and the teacher had called to you both. Your voice faintly climbed their way, hearing you say something about it being an ‘accident.’ They watched as James walked away from the field because the teacher sent him to the nurse's office.

Steve contemplated his options. You did look a bit calmer, but he recalled the way you flipped on him. "Yeah,” he breathed out. "I'll do it today."

"You could do it now."

"Now?"

"Mhm,” Carol hummed, crossing her leg over the other and leaning on the level behind her. “He's in Ms. O'Donnell's class, right? She's called in sick today which means they have nothing to do all morning." Carol looked up to a group of seniors beside them on the bleachers. Their math notebooks scattered across the step they were using and they were arguing over an answer. "Hey!" She called, their heads turned to face her. "Is Eddie Munson in your class?"

"Yeah," one of them chuckled at the mention of his name.

"Perfect," she turned back to Steve. "He must be on school grounds then!"

"Fantastic!" Steve stood up, wiping the back of his jeans with his hands before grabbing his gray sweater and slipping it on.

"Try the drama room first. I'm sure he's setting up his next sacrifice," Tommy laughed.

"Don't let him scare you," Carol giggled.

"Very funny."

It would be a lie to say that Steve's heart didn't race at the idea of finding Eddie sacrificing a rabbit in the middle of the drama classroom. His hand toying with the end of his sleeve as he walked across the empty hallways.

He passed by the coffee machine in front of the teacher's lounge, hearing chatter from behind the wooden door. The sudden reminder that he was in school and not in the horror film he was creating in his mind brought him back to reality. He shook his head, reminding himself it was just silly high school jokes. Eddie wasn't a cult leader; he probably hadn't even gone to jail for 2 months or had never even done a quarter of what people gave him credit for.

So, he took a deep breath and arrived in front of the drama room. Peaking through the window, bright, colorful banners were hung on the walls. Papers and posters of plays taped everywhere and he could see a glimpse of the big CATS poster that terrified him: yellow eyes with silhouettes dancing staring into the room. Steve's hand found the courage to rest itself on the handle, he took another breath. 'This was school. Teachers are around. They would notice if something weird was happening in there.' With that thought, he swung the door open.

To his surprise he didn't find the room lit only by candles with Eddie dancing around in a circle and chanting words in a language he didn’t know. There wasn't a rabbit in the middle of the wooden floor, or circles drawn using the poor animal's blood. No dusty books of spells resting beside the non-existent circle or placed in Eddie's hands.

The reality was that a table had been pulled from the back corner where all the props were stuffed in the theatre’s off season. Eddie presided at the head of the table on a large black throne; ornate and gaudy. He recognised it being used in the latest school production of Camelot. Steve had no idea what the play had been about, but he remembered seeing it on stage.

Sitting to his left was a boy he recognized from biology. On the table was a large board that looked exactly like a board game–but Steve couldn't tell what it was. ‘Definitely not Monopoly,’ he thought to himself.

Figurines in different sizes and various shaped dice were scattered in the middle. Steve never had seen a game with that many dice and definitely hadn't seen that many different shapes–only the average four sided one. The ones like you and Steve would lose as children which resulted in you now only using the same pair for every game.

The two boys were looking at papers that were scattered between them with pencils in their hands. At the center of the table, a big glass jar that looked right out of a fantasy film was filled with the blue liquid Eddie had stolen from the chemistry classroom a day prior; a big dragon figurine of matching color sitting on the lid.

Steve might have stayed frozen a bit too long because he could start feeling their stares.

"Can we help you?" The boy next to Eddie wondered as Steve’s frozen figure interrupted their work.

"I um-" Steve blinked the shock out of his eyes. "I wanted to talk to Munson, actually"

Both boys blinked in a similar fashion and a short laugh escaped Eddie's lips.

"How do you even know my name, Harrington?"

"Everyone knows your name," he replied like it was obvious. Like Eddie couldn't do everything he did, or have all of these rumors dancing around him like flies and that people wouldn't know who he was. "I want to ask you something."

"Shoot," Steve had gained Eddie's curiosity.

"I want you to ask my sister out."

"Excuse me?" Eddie blinked in disbelief. Of all the things Steve Harrington could have said, that was not something Eddie had ever thought to think.

"I will pay you."

"Jesus, Harrington, what kind of fucked up household do you live in?" He turned to his friend whose eyes were wide open upon hearing the request.

"No, please just listen to me," Steve took a step closer. "Our parents made up this new stupid rule where I can't date until she does. And trust me, no one would be brave enough to date her, unless they're getting paid or-" He paused mid-sentence.

"Or they're me?" Eddie took the words out of his mouth, punctuating his sentence with a smile.

"Yes! Exactly! So, what do you say?"

"Is she pretty?"

"What?" Steve surely had seen Eddie steal a cookie from your table not a day before.

"Your sister,” Eddie reiterated, “you can't just expect me to have low standards."

"Yeah, she's pretty?” Steve felt awkward saying that. “I don't know, man! That's my sister."

"Wait, what's her first name?" Eddie's friend asked.

"Y/n."

"Oooh yeah, yeah she's really pretty" he nodded and turned his attention back to Eddie. "Y/n? You know, sits next to him in English, protested for women's rights at lunch yesterday? Broke Jeff's nose? You said she was hot once?"

"That's her?" Eddie's face lit up, a large smirk rising on his lips. "How much?" he crossed his arm over his chest. "And I hope it's good money Harrington because it better be worth a broken nose."

"Ten bucks a date." Eddie looked at him blankly.

"Doesn't cover the stitches if she punches my nose and has those pretty rings of hers on."

"Fine. Fifteen. Take it or leave it, trailer park."

"Well, let's think about this,” Eddie leaned back on his throne, “we go to the movies, that's what? Ten bucks? We get popcorn that's um, fifteen. She's going to want coke too right? I assume. So, that's twenty." He looked to his friend for confirmation, "and then well, I would have to drive her, and filling up the tank costs money. So… we're looking at a good fifty bucks a date."

"That much?" Steve winced. He could already see himself only having the Kudos bar that was probably already half smashed by the weight of his books for lunch, or that Carol had most probably already stolen.

"Yeah," Eddie had a fake sorry look on his face. "You must understand… I'm putting my life on the line for you here."

"Would you do it for less?" Steve turned to Eddie's friend who's eyes widened even more.

"Nah, man. I wouldn't even do it for a hundred." That made Steve's shoulder slump a little more than they already were. He took a second to look at Eddie who was giving him a ‘fifty or nothing' look.

Steve quickly weighed his odds at finding another guy. No one would bite the bait he was dangling, but Eddie Munson had.

"Alright," Steve got his wallet from his back pocket and started fumbling with the bills, handing everything he had over to Eddie.

"Damn Harrington, you must be really desperate," he chuckled as he counted the money. "When do you want me to ask her out?"

"Today."

"Desperate and in a rush? Fabulous combination."

"She finishes soccer at 10:30. You think you could meet her at the bleachers?" Eddie thought for a second, pretending like he was going through all the important things he had to do this morning before answering.

"Yeah, I think I can make it."

10:20 - Steve was head deep into the first page of Romeo and Juliet. His butt started hurting from sitting so long on the hard wood of the bleachers, and his stomach was already growling from knowing it won't have much for lunch. And as if his day couldn't get worse, Carol had found the Kudos bar in the bottom of his bag and claimed it as her own; wrapper already in the trash and bar in her stomach.

"Do you know what Maidenheads mean?" Steve pointed to a word on the page, leaning in towards Tommy. "I'm sure I've seen that word somewhere," he mumbled. "Maybe on one of Y/n's tapes"

Tommy squinted his eyes as he read through the sentence, "are you sure this is even English?"

"Hey, Steve," Carol interrupted, Steve's gaze lifted from the book to meet hers. "Look," she nodded her head up towards the top corner of the bleachers with a smirk on her lips. Steve turned around to look at what was so interesting, and he wasn't disappointed.

Eddie was smoking in the back corner. His back leaning against the corner wall and his legs laid out on the step. His jacket was balled up next to his black lunch box on the step just below. He was looking at the field, probably trying to spot you.

"You should be happy. He's taking this seriously."

"Yeah," Steve looked at his watch before closing his book and putting it in his bag.

"Still can't believe he took fifty bucks from you just for the first date," Tommy snickered as he tossed his cigarette between the openings of the steps. "You're going to be so broke by the end of the month."

"Shut up," Steve whined. The money talk reminded him of the page he kept in his school assigned daily planner. He grabbed it with his pencil case and opened it to the page in question. "How much did I spend on that movie yesterday?"

"Three dollars"

April 11 - Lunch $7, family video $3.

April 12 - Eddie $50.

He closed his book and neatly placed the little blue elastic around it and stuffed it back in his bag.

The teacher's whistle made Steve's heart race and his palms started to sweat. Anxiety munching at his stomach as he wondered if Eddie would make him spending fifty dollars worth it, or if the poor guy would have to spend the evening in the emergency room. At least he would have the money to cover it.

He looked at his watch and then back at the field. You were walking towards your bag; hair moving up and down as you climbed up the steps of the bleachers. From behind your shoulder, he could see Eddie putting out a cigarette and grabbing his jacket.

You were already making your way down and your feet were back on the grass when Eddie caught up to you.

"Hey, sweetheart, how you doin’?"

"Sweating like a pig actually and you?" You turned your head to meet Eddie's surprised eyes. Wiping the sweat off your forehead with your forearm as you gave him a tight-lipped smile.

"Now that's a way to get a guy's attention," he cheered back.

"My mission in life," you sighed, taking a sip from your water bottle. "You're that guy from The Hideout aren't you?" You narrowed your eyes as you scanned his face. "The one who stole a cookie from us at lunch yesterday.” You knew he was a senior. You hadn't seen him much around school, but you knew you recognized the crazy hair and big brown eyes from somewhere.

"Ah, now I'm very sorry about that. Here wait," he raised his finger, "I'm sure I can compensate for the loss" You watched with a raised eyebrow as he fished for something in his back pocket, his hand coming back up with the cash Steve had handed him. "Ah-ha! Here–take, um, how about twenty?"

You eyed the twenty in his hand and then back up to his eyes. You raised an eyebrow, but he seemed dead serious and determined to give it to you.

"I don't want your money," you shook your head and pushed his hand away.

"Alright then,” he shrugged and pocketed the money. "If I heard you correctly, you go to The Hideout?" He seemed surprised because he never noticed you there before. And if he could admit it, he surely would have recalled seeing you there.

"I very much do, yes."

That was the first time you surprised Eddie.

"You're from that band–um Corroded Coffin? Lead, right? Electric guitar?"

Second time you surprised Eddie.

"What do you want?" You continued before he could neither confirm nor deny, taking the burgundy sweater from your bag as you waited for him to continue.

"Do you want to go out? On a date?"

"I’m busy."

"Great then! Pick you up at five on Thursday?"

"Oh right, yeah. Totally," you shouldered your bag again and started walking towards the school building.

"Well, you never know. The night might take you places you've never been before," he had that smug smirk you wanted to punch off every boy's face.

"Yeah, right, like the seven-eleven by Mirkwood?"

"Mirkwood?" the question barely left his lips that you started speaking again.

"Do you even know my name, screw boy?"

"I know a lot more than you think."

"Doubtful. Very, very, doubtful," you gave him a tight smile before speeding up your walk and leaving him again.

Eddie's gaze flew up to Steve and Tommy who were watching the scene, half hidden and perched up on the bleachers.

"You're so screwed man!" Tommy giggled as he watched the look of defeat on Steve's face and Eddie's apologetic eyes. "So, so screwed."

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misschanadlerbong · 1 year

Text

Chapter 9 - Part 1

Summary: Y/N was not doing so well in her studies so she seeks Clay Jensen's help, but things get a bit heated.

Warnings: make-out

Pairing: Clay Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 2k

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The last term of your senior year was going fairly well. The tension between Zach and you were at ease and you both were back to being good sports teammates there was no denying the fact that you guys made the best team.

You found it hard to believe, but it had been a long since you acknowledged that life sucked. But life’s a bitch whenever you feel too happy it bites you in the back.

You got called in by your history teacher and it seemed like you weren’t doing good with your grades, and you needed grades to get into a good college.

“But I’ll have my sports scholarship, so why worry about the grades?” you argued.

“Ms. Y/L/N I understand that you have a sports scholarship but that does not mean that I will be happy to see such low grades in your history test. Y/N you did so well in the first term despite being caught up in sports. I want you to improve your scores as they were. There should always be a backup plan. Let us hope to see a spike in your grades in end-term tests.” The teacher suggested.

To be honest the truth was that you were so caught up with your encounter with Bryce and your breakup with Zach that you almost forgot that you had school to be good at. You made it seem so easy that you could handle it all but, you were just seventeen and you couldn’t handle it all too well. Those sleepless nights of overthinking, thinking how you could have done it differently, what would have happened if you didn’t end up with Bryce in that filthy clubhouse, spending a lot of time in the bathroom crying and the list goes on.

You possessed this power where you can be cheerful and happy from the outside without anyone letting know what’s going on the inside. You never liked the idea of burdening other people with your problems.

Now, you had to move on. Those incidents were not worth anything to put your grades at stake. You decided to ask Clay for help as to who can be a better tutor than the smartest student in the class himself.

The school day ended, and you were going into the parking lot with Jessica where Tony was waiting for you in his car to drop you home. While walking in the hallway towards the gate you came across Clay Jensen. “Jess, you wait for me outside, I gotta talk to Clay about something.” You told Jessica.

“Yeah, I’ll be right outside with Tony.” She spoke.

“Hello, Mr. Nerd.” You greeted Clay.

“Oh, hi! You can see me?” said Clay sarcastically.

You rolled your eyes in embarrassment and said innocently “Okay, I have been a bit busy lately. It’s not like I ghosted you or something we still met at the locker often.”

“Yeah, right right right. You kiss me and then for a month I am just a guy whose locker is neighbors with yours.” You could hear the teasing in his words. He didn’t sound mad he was just being savage which was not unlikely of him.

You sighed heavily, “That is not the point Clay, come on. I need your help. Please listen to me?”

You made your pretty please face which no one has ever been able to deny.

“Yeah, tell me. I was just kidding. Sometimes it feels nice to not be the one getting roasted by Ms. Y/N. Anyway, tell me how I could help you ma’am?” He crossed his arms and was ready to listen attentively.

“I kinda need you to tutor me in History and Maths. I missed a few classes, life’s been pretty rocky, so I wasn’t paying attention. Could you maybe help me?”

“Ah, now I wonder why I got attention from Ms. Y/N/L/N and suddenly I exist for her, of course, it is because you need my help. I get it yeah.” He teased yet again.

“Okay, enough with this sassy treatment Clay, you are lucky I need help from you otherwise I don’t take this shit from anyone. I get it I used you and I am sorry. I am. Please?” you said making your pretty please face again.

“I got homework to do so I might not be able to…”

You cut him off and said “Okay Clay, I have tried to be nice but you’re on the Student Honour Board and you must help every student seeking help. Earlier I asked you as a friend but now I am asking you to perform your duty as a peer. Otherwise, I don’t think so you deserve to be on the Student Board.”

“Damn, you got me. I was just fooling around. I’ll help you. It will be my honor. We can meet at Monéts in an hour.” Finally, he agreed to help.

“No not in an hour, I gotta go home and eat something quickly and come back for practice. How about at 6?” you suggested.

“Oh okay, at 6. But it’ll have to be at my place then. That café turns loud till the evening.”

“Done! Thank you so much, Clay. You are the best.”

You kissed his left cheek in a friendly way which left Clay blushing and staring at the floor with his right hand behind his neck as you walked away.

After practicing you took a quick shower and put on your boyfriend-fit jeans with a black graphic tee on the top and grabbed your leather jacket on your way out. You told your mom that you were going to study at Clay’s place which was the only reason why she would permit you to go to a boy’s place. To study.

On your way to the Jensen’s, you stopped by Monéts to buy a couple of drinks for Clay and yourself. You knocked on the door gently and Clay did not even take a minute to open it seemed like he was eagerly waiting for you.

“Hey Hoodie! See what I brought along with me.”

“Hey Y/N, aren’t we supposed to study?” He inquired.

“Okay, Jensen sue me for needing caffeine while studying.” Sarcasm flows with your words.

“Let me that that.” He offered to take your jacket like a gentleman.

With that, he led the way, and you followed him to the round dining table in the kitchen. You placed the drinks on the table and took out your books. Clay peeped into the drinks curiously, wondering what I could have brought.

You made his work easy by giving him his drink and taking yours, “Here, Hot Chocolate for you and Triple Mocha for me.”

“How come I don’t get coffee?” he asked.

“Simple. Because you don’t drink it.” You answered.

He looked surprised by the fact that you knew that information about him. He further inquired “How’d you know that?”

You tried to make it seem normal as you said “I uh… might have read your fan fiction about Alien Killer Robots and Percy is not a Coffee guy either so I gathered that you won’t be too because you resonate with Percy a lot. You are just like him, brave, courageous, empathetic, and compassionate.”

“You read my fiction???... But didn’t you say that you have no interest in Aline Killer Robots and they creep you out?”

Damn this man had many questions, “Okay, I thought of giving it a try you know starting with the fiction, so I am ready for the real thing. And to be honest I must admit, great writing. You made me fall for the whole Alien concept and I might even borrow those comics you recommend to me earlier.”

You could see the pride on Clay’s face, he was so happy that you called him Percy. You knew he was his favorite character, and he would fight anyone who does not like him.

You both sat down on the wooden chairs and Clay started with American history. It seemed like the house had no one except you two until you heard the door being opened by someone.

“Clay, I am home.” The woman spoke.

That someone was Clay’s mom, Lainie Jensen. She was surprised to see an unexpected guest, but she was so sweet. She instantly brought a huge welcoming smile to her face.

Clay looked a little awkward as he was not expecting either of his parent too early.

“Mom, I thought you were working.”

“Hello to you too Clay. I brought the work home. By the way, who is this beautiful girl?” asked her mom in the sweetest way you could imagine. You always liked when people appreciated you.

Before Clay could say anything, you stretched your hand for a handshake and said “Y/N, Y/Ln. It is so nice to meet you Mrs, Jensen.”

“Oh, so she is the famous Y/N I have heard so much about.” She gasped.

Clay got all awkward again and said, “Not so much about you, you know just a little bit. It’s part of their helicopter parenting where I have to tell them about my day and all. Mom if you would please excuse us, we have to do some studying.”

Clay grabbed all the books, and you picked up your backpack along with the drinks and he led the way toward a narrow staircase. We did not even climb three steps when his mom called for him again.

“Clay, honey, please remember to keep the door open 3 inches”

You tried your best not to laugh but could not help it and let out a small giggle. Clay got embarrassed as he looked at you and then at his mom and said, “Stop humiliating me in front of my friends, mom.” He climbed the stairs in frustration and opened the door for you to his bedroom.

He had a small bedroom but not so small to accommodate a couch in one corner of the room and a queen size bed in the other corner attached to the wall. His study table was just beside the window giving the perfect street view. His walls were dominated by posters of various things this Alien Killer Robots and The Arcade Fire. As he closed the door leaving three inches open as instructed by his mom your eyes fell upon this beautiful doodle of tapes. His bedroom was aesthetically grey which you found soothing and cozy.

Over the span of an hour, you both shifted from the couch to the study table, to the bed and finally, you both settled down on the floor resting your backs on the other side of the bed. Clay was sitting on the side closer to the door and you were sitting near his nightstand.

“So Civil War happened in which year?” asked Clay taking my test.

“1851?” you answered.

“No, Y/N it’s 61”

You groaned in frustration “Why can’t Damon Salvatore be my history tutor? Like he lived the history, he was even part of the war.”

“Don’t you think Damon’s toxic?” asked Clay and jealousy was visible on his face.

You cross-questioned him “Don’t you think Katherine’s a bitch?”

“Yeah, but she’s hot.” Said Clay making an argument.

You patted Clay’s cheek and said with sympathy “Thank you so much for proving my point, Clay.” It didn’t take long for Clay to realize what you meant, and you both laughed loudly.

But suddenly there was an unexpected silence in the room. You felt some kind of tension between the two of you, something that was never experienced between the two of you. It was like a silence that spoke a magnitude of language. You felt a force that was drawing you towards Clay. You took deep breaths and cupped Clay’s face with one hand moving him closer to you. You looked into his eyes and he gave a slight nod.

You leaned in to kiss Clay. Luckily, he started kissing back and you both sunk into the kiss. You still held his face by his jawline keeping him closer and moved towards him decreasing the gap between you two, meanwhile, Clay slid one of his legs to shut the door without breaking the kiss.

You were so impressed by this act; he did this so effortlessly. As you sunk more into the kiss it was getting hot until the door flung open and you stopped abruptly.

A/N: Damn! I wonder who could that be? it's sus. I promise there's a part 2 to it so stay tuned.

Shower your love by liking and commenting on the post. Refrain from copying, plagiarism, or posting on any other platform.

THANK YOU!!!

P.S.: I also upload on Wattpad @immafreakingmoonstone, feel free to check out my account :)

#13 reasons why #13rw #clay jensen #clay #clay jensen x reader #13rw reader fiction #clay x reader #clay jensen 13rw #clay jensen 13 reasons why #13rw imagine #clay jensen imagine #dylan minnette #dylan minnette x reader #chapter 9 part 1 #there's gonna be a part 2 #reader fiction

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starbychoice · 1 year

Text

Stitches (Part 2)

Remus Lupin x f!Reader

Part 1

Summary: Remus is still trying to find a way to confess his feelings to (Y/N), but for now he's focused on having fun.

Its been a few weeks since (Y/N) stitched up his favorite sweater for him. Now it was a haunting reminder that he was to weak to express his feelings. All he wanted todo was hold her... Too love her... To help her...

Which was excactly what he was doing now. "Remus! Hellooo?" (Y/N) voice invaded his head. Remus looked startled for a moment, flustered at his previous thoughts. Especially when the girl he was just thinking about was right in fornt of him. "Sorry, (Y/N).." The boy awkwardly said in front of her "Youve been spacing out a lot today.. What ya thinking about?"

Remus' face flushed "Nothing important.. What did you say you need help with?" Remus tried avoiding the questions and it seemed to be working. "Everything!" (Y/N) cried, suddenly reminded of the god forsaken missing potion assignments in front of her. The boy sitting next to her chuckled, pulling out his own potions book from his bag and setting it on the table with a heavy thud.

(Y/N) groaned hearing the thud of the book, knowing todays study session was not going to be fun. Part of that might be just because of the fact that (Y/N) has about 20 missing potion assignments. Maybe she shouldnt have claimed that 'she was going to make the greatest comeback ever seen in Hogwarts history' to James. Now she actually had to live up to that claim.

It was the end of the second semester, a.k.a. when grades start to actually matter. All (Y/N) was really committed todo though, was only do enough assignments to pass the class. Remus skipped through a bunch of pages, only gping through the chapters that were important.

Then (Y/N) and Remus started slowly chipping away at her work assignments. A few hours later they were finally finished, answering the last auestion on the last paper and setting it in the pile of other finished papers. "Yes!" (Y/N) cheered as Remus let out a sigh of relief.

"We can finally leave!" (Y/N) smiled happily "Hey do you want to go to the lake later?" Remus asked, glancing over at (Y/N) as he put his things away "Sure, whose all gonna be there?" she quesntioned, pulling her backpack on her shoulders. "Sirius, James, Peter, maybe Lily as well." "Alright, meet you guys there!" (Y/N) grinned before walking away from Remus.

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(Y/N) kept her word for being there, at first Remus didn't think she was gonna show up. That was until he saw her in the distance. It was late afternoon, the sun was still in the horizon, but it was sure to turn dark within the next few hours. Remus sat near the water reading his latest book. Although he discarded of it momentarily to greet (Y/N). "There you are, I thought you bailed on us." Remus spoke, almost ashamed of thinking that of (Y/N).

(Y/N) gasped dramatically, "You think your bestfriend would bail on you?" (Y/N) questioned playfully as Remus put his hands up defensively "Hey-! You were the last one to show, as usual. What else was supposed to think?" Remus shot back rolling his eyes slightly. (Y/N) laughed, which was interrupted by James coming over and dropping a fish in front of the two. "This is the fish pile- ill be back" James ran back into the water, leaving the pair very confused of their friend's intentions with his 'fish pile'.

"Why do we need fish?" Remus questioned (Y/N), hoping somehow she'd have the answer to this question. "Its James. That's why." (Y/N) answered, slipping her shoes off. Turning her attention to the water in front of her, she saw the rest of their friend group Merlin-knows-what. The only true answer to that question was that they were causing havoc, as always.

Remus had his book in his hands again, looking up at (Y/N), expecting her to be in some sort of bathing suit. Instead she was walking towards the water in the shorts and t-shirt she came in. "These things need to stop surprising me.." Remus muttered to himself.

Remus then heard another pair of feet crunching in the sand behind him. Turning his head he saw Lily, James beloved crush, which Lily and basically the whole school knew. "Hi, Lily." Remus smiled at his friend as Lily did the same "Hey Remus! I see the others are already at each other's throats.." Lily commented, looking at the commotion coming from the water. Turning his attention back to his chaotic friends, he sees what is obviously James and Sirius going at it, probably something about James's 'fish pile'.

"Just as usual.." Remus sighed slightly thinking of all the times he's had to break of fights.

Remus' eyes wandered to (Y/N) as they usually did. He wanted so badly to have told (Y/N) his feeling for her when she was stitching up his sweater. To have her close to him like that again, to feel her hand in his. Remus wanted nothing but to tell (Y/N), to have his feeling out there. He wanted to shout and scream his feelings, in hopes that (Y/N) would just know they were for her.

Even with these emotions that get bigger by the day, Remus didn't want to ruin their relationship. He didn't care if he never gets to tell (Y/N) his feelings for her if it meant their friendship would stay how it is forever. The worse fear Remus has is (Y/N) breaking his heart and then breaking apart their friendship.

"You should tell her." Lily suddenly pipped up. Remus jumped a bit, forgetting Lily was there. Instead of standing, she was now sitting next to Remus. "Why don't you?" the girl questioned. "I don't want it to end our friendship." Remus answered, it was the simplest answer he could think of. He didn't say how he was scared he didn't know how to live without (Y/N), he didn't say how he was worried how it would effect his other relationships, how he was scared all of his friends would shun him after confessing his feeling to (Y/N).

Although, all of it lead to one thing he dreaded admitting. Remus was scared of loneliness. When (Y/N) left, he didn't want her taking a piece of his own heart with her. That wouldn't happen if (Y/N) didn't know she had a piece of Remus' to begin with. Sure there was the possibility of his other friends not leaving, but (Y/N) was different than them. She's been Remus' friend as long as he can remember!

"You guys could still stay friends if she rejects you." Lily pointed out. "Things would be different after.. Awkward." Remus replied like it was the most obvious answer in the world. "I still think you should tell her." Lily gave Remus a reassuring smile before standing up again. "Now. I'm going to go see what those loons are arguing about." Lily announces, taking off her jean jacket and shorts, revealing her red polka-a-dot swimsuit.

"You do that, at this rate they might end up drowning each other before they even finish their spatter." Remus joke d, earning a laugh from Lily as she walked away. Remus picked up his book again, enjoying the sound of his friends in the background.

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It had to be at least a few hours before (Y/N) returned to Remus' side. Her hair was dripping wet, her clothes were as well. Remus snickered "What, were you trying to end up being on of the fish in James's 'fish pile'?" Speaking of the fish pile, it had grown since they first started, there had to be at least twenty fish now. The only reason that is though is because Sirius and James decided to band together and catch fish while Peter sat with Lily, trying to subtly scare the fish away.

"How could you! Personally I think I'm beautiful " (Y/N) sarcastically said, flipping her wet hair in Remus' face. "Ew- get your lake water infested hair away from me!" Remus pushed (Y/N)'s head away, laughing at the girl's antics.

"Moony, you wanna walk back with me?" asked (Y/N) "Your done here? Already? You don't want to stay and see James' and Sirius' fish pile grow?" Remus playfully questioned "No, honestly I'm getting kinda sick of seeing them hunched over in the water like that." (Y/N) cringed a bit, it did look a bit puzzling, the two boys watching the water so intently look for fish. Their backs were for sure going to hurt in the morning. "Yeah, lets go." Remus agreed standing up, making sure to grab his book.

Remus had to wait a minute so (Y/N) could put her socks on her wet sandy feet and then put her shoes on. The girl then jumped up "See ya later fish boys!" (Y/N) shouted so they could hear from the distance they were at. They didn't even spare her a glance, to busy watching the water "Pricks.." (Y/N) muttered as Remus snickered.

The two then began walking back to the castle, "So, what book are you reading this week?" (Y/N) broke the silence.

This.

This is what Remus didn't want to loose.

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There is part two of stitches, I might make another part, who knows at this point lol

#remus lupin #marauders #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fluff #remus x reader #female reader

101 notes · View notes

sanakotsu · 2 months

Text

Koisuru♡Scramble Translation

Chapter 1: A Scrambled Meeting

Writer: Nishioka Maiko Season: N/A Characters: Koino Hajime (Hajime), Nakaouji Eiki (Eichi), Nekomura Konatsu (Natsume), Asuma Mahiro (Madara), Shirai Airi (Aira), Kurose Miki (Niki)

Translation: Sanakotsu

Hajime: Even if that’s the case, it has nothing to do with me. What happened this morning was just an accident. It was a once in a lifetime miracle and nothing else.

〈Spring, when cherry blossoms are almost in full bloom.〉

〈I, Koino Hajime, start my second year of high school today.〉

〈I was a little more careful with how I did my hair, and left the house earlier than usual. 〉

〈I held onto that fleeting hope that something special might happen today.〉

〈But still...〉

〈I am currently running for my life in a rush!〉

Hajime: *Pants* Oh no, I’m going to be late!

*Pant* 8:20 AM! Thank god. Looks like I’ll make it on time…!

(Today is horrible. My favorite keychain got ripped off.)

(And because of that, I had to go back even after I left the house early.)

(At least someone brought it to the police box.)

(Ah… My face is dripping with sweat and my hair’s a mess... Even after I went through all the trouble to style it...)

(But I had to run or else I wouldn’t make it on time! I can’t possibly be late for the first day of class after spring break!)

(I know it’s foolish of me to have such high hopes but...I’m going into a new class and I’m finally used to my new uniform.)

(Whether it’s something special, a destined meeting, or even something tragic...!)

(But of course it can only be found in my wildest dreams.)

(Is this divine punishment for having high expectations? Haven’t I run out of enough luck already?! God, you absolute idiot...!)

...Oh! I can see Yumenosaki town’s six way intersection. Just a little more to the school!

(Still, it’s such a strange path that Yumenosaki town is known for.)

(It’s really hard to see where you’re going around here—)

Ack?!

Ow… That hurts... I ran into someone and fell to the ground... Why is today so mean...?

Eiki: Sorry for running into you. Are you alright?

Hajime: No, I’m sorry too! Thank you—

(Wow...He’s so pretty...! That’s the same uniform— Wait... Huh?)

Eiki and Miki: ...

Konatsu and Mahiro: ...

Hajime: (What?! There’s four people reaching out to me?!)

(U-Um. Which hand do I take?!)

〈Not to mention, these people are—〉

Airi: So what happened? What happened next?

Hajime: Eh? What are you talking about, Airi?

Airi: Well, you said all four of them reached out to you, right? So whose hand did you take?

Hajime: I didn’t know which one to take so I just got up on my own. I did apologize and thank them for trying to help me though.

Airi: What?! Why?! That’s such a missed opportunity!

Hajime: A missed opportunity...? What are you...

Airi: I’m right and you know it. You ran into them, y’know! They’re the school’s—

〈That’s right. The four super hot guys from our school that anyone would recognize.〉

〈The handsome prince of the school that overflows with elegance: Nakaouji Eiki.〉

〈The blunt one who’s actually really kind and cool: Kurose Miki.〉

〈The senpai who’s always popular with women and lives life freely: Asuma Mahiro.〉

〈The flirty and cute devilish angel kouhai: Nekomura Konatsu.〉

Airi: ...super famous guys! That kind of opportunity is rare! You should’ve at least gotten their Anstagram accounts.

Hajime: There’s no way I could have.

Airi: Don’t reply so half-heartedly. Jeez~

Did you know that people from other schools come by just to try and see them? With the way they’re treated, they’re basically like celebrities.

Hajime: Even if that’s the case, it has nothing to do with me.

What happened this morning was just an accident. It was a once in a lifetime miracle and nothing else.

Airi: You never know, it could be a destined meeting.

Hajime: As if. That wouldn’t happen for me, I’m sure.

Airi: Boo~ You’re so adamant about this. You really don’t have dreams, huh. How boring~

Hajime: Isn’t it just you trying to have fun?

More importantly, it’s our turn to order. Did you decide what you want to get?

Airi: Gah! Oh no. I didn’t think about it! What should I get... Um...?

I wonder if there’s still any free seats…

Hajime: Oh, over there! There’s seats for both of us. Let’s go, Airi.

Nice~ How lucky for us.

Eiki: I apologize again for this morning. You’re still okay, right?

Hajime: ...

N-Nakaouji-kun?!

Airi: Ah, Hajime! If you back up in this small space, you’re going to bump into someone—

*Sigh* Of course...

Miki: That hurt.

Hajime: Ah?! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! It was an accident! I got startled—

Huh? Kurose-kun?! Ah...! This is the second time today! I’m so sorry!

Konatsu: Hm?~ Why is it so lively? Did something happen?

Huh? In the middle of the crowd, the person lowering their head is...from this morning...?

Mahiro: Ahaha~ So where should we go later today? ♪

Hm? One second, everyone. What’s...?

Ahh. It’s the cute girl from this morning.

Eh? Ahaha. Don’t make such scary faces, you’re all plenty cute.

Hajime: Really, I’m sorry...!

〈I thought I wouldn’t have another encounter like this again.〉

〈Something that would have stayed a once in a lifetime miracle.〉

❀ ꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎ ❀

I tried to limit the amount of pictures but everything hits better with them.

➸ all ❀ next ❀

#enstars translation #hajime shino #eichi tenshouin #natsume sakasaki #madara mikejima #aira shiratori #niki shiina #koisuru scramble

11 notes · View notes

retrodreamgirl · 2 years

Text

the games that play us | steve harrington x fem!reader

part 1 | part 2

summary: you're a kindergarten teacher at Hawkins Elementary and coincidentally steve harrington's little girl is a student in your class. there's a storm brewing, you meet wren's dad a second time, and wren and steve are having a hard day. we've got pumpkins and Steve Sheet™️ and french fries and tomatoes. plus! uncle eddie has a new friend and wren has some questions [wc: 10k]

warnings: fem!reader, teacher!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, light angst, slowburn, strangers to friends to lovers, single parent!steve, mentions of teen parent!steve, steve being the biggest girl dad, uncle eddie (he's so stinkin cute!), mentions of shitty parents (steve's), probably not proofed very well. lmk if i missed anything!

⤜♡→

“Ms. Y/l/n, guess what!” Wren lifts to her toes, hands fastened against the opening of her denim jacket. She’s been especially well behaved today, not that she ever puts a single toe beyond the line of acceptable, but you’ve been waiting for her bright smile to find you with an explanation since she skipped in this morning. Now that she has, you free your hands of chalky erasers and lean a tad so your hands brush the knees of your skirt and your eyes are level.

“What’s up, Wren?”

“My daddy’s coming to pick me up today!”

“Oh he is!? Is that what’s got you so excited?” She nods, her endless pigtails swaying in kind. You wonder if her dad is the one who fashioned them with the bright pink ribbons and the butterfly clips flattening her flyaways on either side. “Do you guys have fun plans after school today?”

After your formal introduction to Eddie, you brought him up in passing to one of the other teachers, Ms. Winters. She mentioned seeing the girl with him after school most days, along with an off comment about his commitment being a nice surprise. It was an odd take to you, the way Wren describes the affection she holds for her father and vice versa making it near impossible to believe he would be anything short of committed.

“Mmm, no. Today we have to go straight home so I can do my homework and clean my room.”

“A messy room huh?”

“I always keep it so clean, I promise!” She says it like the entirety of your relationship is dependent on the amount of clutter covering her bedroom floor. She wrings her hands, thinking a moment before explaining exactly why her room is messy, making sure you don’t think it’s entirely her fault. “I just made a bit of a mess picking my outfit last night and daddy was too tired to help me hang my clothes back so he said he’ll help me do it today.”

“Alright, well why don’t you finish cleaning up your toys so you’re all ready when your daddy gets here.”

She hops off, hands delicately swaying like the wind is carrying them alongside her, and you continue with the process of your own wind down.

Despite Wren’s good behavior the rest of the class did not act accordingly.

You’re positive it’s something in the water, a total of five students passing through timeout at various periods of the day. You’re not positive you’ll make it beyond the barrier of the school before you have to pull over and rest your head atop the steering wheel for a well deserved sob from pure exhaustion.

Over the next thirty minutes, you send students off with bus monitors and exchange pleasantries with those whose parents are always lingering in the hall, waiting for the slow crawl of their little one collecting their bags from their cubbies and saying last goodbyes to friends for the day. Each student’s pass to the door is a weight from your chest, not to say you don’t love their bright smiles and lively personalities, but you’re still growing used to the charge of a class of twenty children barely pushing six years old.

All the while, Wren sits at her desk, the one near the window overlooking the parking lot. You don’t miss the subtle shift in her demeanor, the way her shoulders seem to slowly dip and her head eventually lay against her arms along the table.

You’re fidgeting at your own desk, slowly sifting through the portraits you assigned for the day and dotting them all with an assortment of smiley face stickers. You hate to see the way her pupils widen a fraction every so often when a shadow shapes along the hall, then the way they deflate when she realizes it’s not her dad but another teacher leaving for the afternoon. The line is drawn completely when you see the way her lip wobbles at forty minutes past three.

“Hey, Wren, do you wanna have a snack with me?” Her eyes are glistening when she looks over at you, the sleeve of her jacket wiping at the wetness beginning to accumulate against her cheeks. “I have some yummy graham crackers with yogurt and I think I have an apple juice with your name on it!”

“Okay.” She says sighing, the breath catching in her throat with the words. You round your desk, the sharp clicks of your heels seeming too loud in the empty classroom. You’ve never noticed the loneliness of the whole thing, not until the happiest kid you know is crawling from her chair with an unusual cloud over her head. You offer your hand, and she rubs hers against her sleeve before accepting it.

“We just gotta make a quick trip to the teacher’s lounge so we’ll be back in time for your daddy.”

“He’s late.” You slow your pace when Wren trails behind, her feet dragging against the tile when you step past the threshold of the door. Her neck is craning toward the entrance, posters painting happy faces seeming to morph into a mocking scene when the glass pane is empty of anything but the late afternoon sun blazing against bare asphalt.

“I’m sure he’s trying to get here as fast as he can.”

You hate to see it, the incorrigible way her lips flatten at the edges. Like she doesn’t think he’s showing up at all. It begs the question of routine or a deep seeded fear.

You lead her to the lounge, her tiny feet pattering quickly behind you despite your decrease in tempo. It’s a pathetic little room really, with a round table and a fridge. Wren lingers by the door, eyes wide like it’s the holy grail. You pull your tub of yogurt and a juice box from the corner of the fridge and turn back to her with a kind smile. “Jackpot!”

“Jackpot! Can I hold something, please?”

“You take the juicebox, it’s so heavy I might fall over!” You sway on your feet, emphasis enough to have Wren giggling and her hands gently prying the small thing from you. “Thank you, sweetheart. Ready to head back?”

She looks at you a moment, poking at her chin. “What about the crackers?”

“Follow me.”

Her spirits have lifted a small amount by the time you’re back to the classroom, still empty save for her bright backpack slung over the back of her chair. You walk to your desk, plopping the tub of yogurt down and waving her over. She tentatively approaches you, this side of the wooden surface not often breached by anyone other than yourself.

You crouch to the lowermost drawer, sliding it open to reveal an assortment of goodies, some that you use sparingly when the class is being in especially good spirits and some for yourself to snack on throughout the day.

“Whoa.” Wren peeks into the stash then back to you, “That’s a lot of stuff.”

“Yeah, don’t tell anyone. It’s our little secret, okay?” You pass her the graham crackers and notice the chipping purple polish on her nails. “Does your daddy paint your nails?”

“No, my Aunt Max does it. But sometimes I pick at them and I haven’t been able to see her um…because of school.” Wren explains, scraping her nail along the edge of her thumb where a dusting of purple has scattered against it. “Next time I wanna do it like pumpkins for Halloween!”

“Oh I think that would be very cool! Let’s sit at your table and we can eat a little.” She nods and hobbles back to her chair with her juice box clutched in her fist. “Do you like your graham crackers with yogurt? It’s my favorite.”

“I’ve never had it before. My after school snack is usually half a peanut butter and jelly with some grapes and five m&ms. I get five so I can put them in the bread and make a face, but they always fall out so I just get chocolate before dinner.” You have a feeling her plan is not as sneaky as she thinks, but the mischievous glint in her eye fills you with a warmth too wholesome to burst her bubble.

You free a cracker from the brown sleeve and dip it into the tub of yogurt to carefully hand over to Wren who watches the entire process arched over the desk with rapt attention. “Tell me what you think.”

She takes a large bite, a corner of the cracker breaking off and falling to the desk leaving a glob of yogurt clinging to her cheek. She scrunches her nose and swallows, her hand grabbing at the piece that now rests atop the table.

“May I please have a napkin?”

“Yeah,” You chuckle, quick to hop up and grab the spare roll from your desk.

“It’s really good!” She says through another mouthful, allowing you to dab at the corner of her cheek. She whines a bit when you spend too long rubbing at the skin but quickly catches herself and smiles sheepish. You continue like this for a while, Wren too occupied cautiously dipping each cracker and sliding it past her lips.

Your eyes travel the expanse of the window, trying to spot any unfamiliar vehicles pulling in. There’s nothing but the sky darkening to an angry gray color, clouds settling for an evening storm. You think you should attempt to call her house, but you’re sure there won’t be an answer.

You must’ve missed something she said, because next thing Wren’s arm is tugging at the edge of your sleeve and her eyes are wide and fearful where she follows your previous path to the window.

“I want my daddy.” Nothing if not a daddy’s girl, your heart breaks at the sight of her tears welling up again, certainly no hope of anyone but him soothing her broken soul. The matter is furthered when a loud crack of thunder rumbles and the first spit of water sprinkles against the glass. “Daddy!”

She wails then and you're rounding the short distance from the table to kneel at her side, accepting her with open arms when she throws herself forward, spiraled by fear. She’s inconsolable and you almost want to start crying yourself. Her hands tighten into fists in your sweater and yours are gliding up and down her back.

Another crack of thunder and you don’t think she can get any closer, terrified of the monsters causing a ruckus in the clouds. It’s a wonder the lights don’t go out entirely, but they begin to flicker and it’s daunting enough that even you’re on edge.

You feel horrible, unable to produce the right fix to calm Wren enough that she’s no longer trembling in your arms. You attempt to talk her down, a coaxing filled with soft words, your hand gliding against one of her pigtails. Her breathing has lost all pretenses, uneven huffs of air all she can manage in her race to keep pace with her dampened emotions.

“Wren?” You glance toward the door, an unfamiliar man is standing half damp and out of breath in the doorway. You’re about to ask who he is, but Wren wrenches herself from you before you have the chance, her tiny body bolting across the room and into his arms. He catches her up like he’s done so a million times before, immediately comforting her with a doting patience.

“Daddy, where were you!?” She cries, muffled against his neck where he cradles her, pressing kisses to her crown. “We were waiting for so long and then it got dark and scary.”

“I know. I’m so sorry, sweet girl. Got held up at work and then there was an accident on the way here and I couldn’t get to a phone. I’m so sorry.” His explanation is partially directed at you, still crouched and awe struck near Wren’s chair. “Thank you for staying with her. I’m really sorry I’m late.”

“I—it’s no problem, but…who are you?” He looks up from where he was in the midst of further consoling Wren whose tears have fallen much quieter but wouldn’t halt altogether for a while yet. His brows furrow, but he stumbles forward with his hand outstretched. An admirable feat with the way Wren demands his every attention, her fingers grasping at the extension of his sleeve.

“I’m Steve Harrington, Wren’s dad.”

“No…Wren’s dad is Eddie. I met him yesterday…” You finally stand, looking between the two of them on high alert. Neither of you miss the way Wren wiggles in Steve’s arms, a giggle followed by wet sniffling. “Oh—oh my are you two…? I’m so sorry I didn’t know, please excuse my rudeness. I don’t mean anything by it, I’m sure you guys are a great couple.”

“No!” There’s barely a pause, just a momentary confusion followed by a disturbance twitching amongst the muscles of Steve’s face. “We’re not—I mean Eddie and I are not a couple. He just helps me out and picks her up from school most days. I’m Wren’s dad…her only dad.”

You’re unsure whether you should laugh or not, but the mortification of the whole thing doesn’t allow you much of a choice. Your hand flies to cover the expanse of your mouth, fighting the sputter of voice that shapes itself as a nervous giggle. Steve hitches Wren higher where she clings to his chest, the girl gone quiet since her previous giggling.

“Wren?” Steve prompts her, leaning back so he can see her tear stained cheeks.

“Me and Uncle Eddie tricked her.” Wren admits and you imagine the feeling of panic that crawled into your chest would’ve been horribly constricting were it not for the small chuckle from Steve.

“You know that wasn’t very nice, right? What if something happened and your teacher got confused about who to call?” Not a huge concern considering the heaps of paperwork in your own files as well as the front office, but Steve runs with it all the same and Wren’s cheeks redden from more than her previous display of emotions. “I think you need to apologize to her, please.”

“I’m sorry. Wasn’t nice to trick you, I’ll make sure Uncle Eddie gets in trouble too.” She promises burying her head back into Steve’s chest, shoulders still steadily heaving.

“It’s okay, Wren, I think I’m the one who should be a little embarrassed for not realizing.” You puff, glancing at your heels shifting against the pattern tile. “In any case, I’m Y/n Y/l/n. I guess it’s good to actually meet you this time.”

“No, please, I should be the one embarrassed for taking so long to meet you in the first place. It’s just that I'm usually working and I don’t get off in time to pick her up.” In the silence that follows, the patter of rain pelts the window and thunder echoes in the distance, a warning that you’re not quite in the worst of it.

“Well now we’ve met, and Wren was just so excited to have you pick her up!”

“Now Wren is ready to go home.” She pouts, something you’ve never bore witness to. You think she’s just being difficult in that way kids do when they don’t feel entirely okay about what’s happening. Steve seems put out, kissing the top of her head and smoothing her jacket beneath his palms. You walk the length back to her chair, gathering her pink backpack and sliding the untouched juicebox into the side pocket.

“Thank you.” Steve accepts the bag and carefully slings it over his shoulder. “Actually I was hoping we’d be able to talk sometime? I was planning on doing it today but obviously that’s not gonna happen, so maybe we could schedule something?”

“Oh, yeah of course. Just let me know what works best for you.”

“I’ll give you a call later in the week to set something up. I think I need to get someone home.” Wren nods against his chest, mumbling something you don’t quite catch. “Say bye please.”

“Bye, thank you for the snack.” It’s an effort not to coo at the way her head momentarily lifts to glance back at you, her eyes puffy under the weight of her tears but a toothy grin making its way to her cheeks.

“You’re welcome, sweetie. See you tomorrow.”

You watch them leave, quick to gather your own belongings and brave the strengthening storm. You stop off, just a quick pit before heading home.It’s frigid outside, the constant downpour seeping into your bones by the time you step into the general store around six.

“You're late. Rough day with the kiddos?” You pile a fresh assortment of markers to the counter, always stocking up on something these days. The most recent supply shortage is a result of a habit unteachable in most kids until they manage a hint of perfectionism in their adolescent craft. The tips of the markers seem to recede further inward with each use and soon they’ll be nothing but cylinders of plastic.

“Yeah, there was a parent late for pick-up so I had to stick around a little longer.”

“Did you tell them you’re not a daycare service?” Joyce pops a hard candy into her mouth, offering one across the counter. You take the wrapped good between your fingers, the ghost of a smile pinching your muscles.

“No, he was really nice and apologized a million times. Plus, his daughter is really sweet so I didn’t mind.”

“His daughter’s sweet, huh?” Her tone holds a teasing lilt, one you ignore in favor of popping the candy past your lips. Strawberry.

“How long are you in for? It’s getting pretty ugly out there.”

“Yeah, I’ll probably start closing up behind you so I can get home to Will.” She passes your bag over the counter, heading to the door to flip the ‘closed’ sign. “You should come over for dinner in a couple of weeks! I meant to invite you the other day, but it completely slipped my mind.”

“Oh, are you having people over? A couple of weeks is a lot of notice.”

“Just a few, something casual that I like to do from time to time. Just some of Will’s friends and some of mine, which includes you now.” You beam, twirling your bag between your fingers in an attempt not to seem too eager at the small admission. You haven’t had much time to navigate Hawkins before the start of the school year and no one seemed keen on letting you forget your lack of camaraderie.

“That would be really great, thank you. Should I bring anything?”

“If you want. But those kids will eat anything so don’t think too hard about it.”

“Great! I should get going, but I’ll probably see you in a few days. The kids have started rebelling against me by breaking all the crayons into halves.”

“Yikes.”

“I guess I should just be glad they’re sharing, right?”

~*~

“Wren, please eat your dinner.”

She’s been like this since they got home, a refusal to cooperate with Steve’s attempts at getting her to do anything. He’s not upset with her, more annoyed at the entirety of the situation; at Keith for keeping him longer than necessary and at the jackass who rear ended the poor old woman on his drive to school.

She’s barely spoken a word to him since he buckled her into her booster seat and placed a kiss to her cheek with another apology for being so late. He thinks it a feat she wandered over to the table at all, now sitting stock straight and stubborn as ever.

The storm still rages outside, pelting the window with ferocity. Steve can tell Wren isn’t unafraid, but too upset with him to voice her concerns about it. He knows it’s at least part of her sour mood, but it doesn’t feel whole.

“Don’t want it.” She pouts, Floppy tucked beneath her arm and her fingers jammed between her lips. She’s red in the cheeks, has been since he found her crying in your arms, and he thinks she might be warm from all her fussing. He made a can of soup, chicken noodle because she’s going through a phase and has decided tomato looks too much like vomit.

“Come on, lovebug, just a little before it gets cold.”

He pilots the spoon to her lips and she seals them tight, shaking her head and shoving it away. The spoon skitters along the table, golden liquid splashing everywhere.

“No!”

It’s a long meditated practice in patience and the lingering resentment from his own childhood that keeps him from losing it just then. He stands from the chair at her side and silently grabs the spoon from the center of the table to toss into the full bowl. He dabs at the spilled broth with a napkin, slowly to give him more time to collect the heavy emotion coiling in his chest.

“Wren, go to your room.” He thinks she must be able to feel the tension rolling off of him in waves. He can see her climbing from her chair without a word to trudge down the hall, her heavy steps sinking into the carpet. He winces when she slams the door then he’s collapsing at the table shielding his face in his hands.

He’s at a loss. He feels frustrated and pathetic. His kid is just being a kid, throwing a tantrum. He should be able to handle it, right?

He thinks it would be easier if it was something she’d ever done before, but she hasn’t. Sure she’s pouted over small things like the wrong color popsicle or having to keep her beloved bunny home when she goes to school, but those things are kissed away as easily as they popped into her beautiful little brain. Never has she been so forthright in her ire that she outright refuses to listen.

This time he doesn’t even really know the problem, so how’s he supposed to fix it?

He leaves her for a while, both of them needing the situation to cool a bit before he attempts to neutralize it. The apartment is silent save for the sound of him cleaning the dishes from dinner, tucking the uneaten soup into a container for later. He glances at the clock, the time nearing eight-thirty when he decides he’s spent enough time stewing.

When he enters her room, the lights are on and he can see her in a lump beneath her comforter.

“Wren.” She shifts beneath the blankets, alerting him she’s not asleep, but doesn’t respond as anything other than a quiet whimper. “Can we talk please, lovebug? I’m not mad, I just wanna know what’s wrong.”

He settles beside her, gently tugging the blanket back expecting to find her head resting against the pillow. Instead her feet poke out of the top, his hand playfully caressing her heels and she giggles kicking at him.

“Daddy!” She squeals when he pulls her free from the mass of blankets to settle in his lap. She’s changed, a pair of bright blue pajamas in place of her denim.

“There’s my Wren.” He smiles and she curls further into him. “Okay, bug, wanna tell me what’s goin on? Is it because I was late?”

She crawls out of his lap to settle beneath her blankets and lifts the edge, a silent invitation he gladly accepts. He begins pulling the ribbons from her hair, something she couldn’t always manage on her own. He frees the loose strands from the clips secured at her scalp and plops them on her nightstand. She hums when his hands run through her hair, loosening it around her shoulders.

“Today was a hard day, but I need you to talk to me. I can’t make it better if I don’t know what’s wrong.” He waits another moment for her to speak, knowing sometimes she chews on words a little longer because she wants to be understood.

“I thought you weren’t coming and I was so scared.” It’s barely a whisper, hands grabbing at one of Steve’s where it holds her against him. Both of her hands fit into the span of his palm and it reminds him that though her maturity is great she’s still barely past the point of sleeping through the night. Just a little girl more afraid of the world than even he realizes.

“I’m sorry I scared you, but I need you to understand that I will always come for you, Wren. No matter what.”

“But what if you don’t? What if you never come just like mama.” His heart breaks entirely too suddenly, the fractured pieces seeping with sorrow for his daughter’s bleak admission.

It’s not often she asks about her mom, always content with things the way they are, just the two of them. Steve explained things as best he could without damning her with the knowledge that it was without a heavy heart that her mother handed her over and ditched Hawkins for a “better future”. One without teen pregnancy in the rearview.

He figured it wasn’t something he’d have to address again until she was much older, and certainly not because she was afraid he would leave her behind.

“Is that what this is about? You’ve been thinking about your mom?”

“Everyone’s always talking about their moms at school and it just made me think about mine. I don’t know her at all, not even a picture.” She sighs, head lolling to one side as the day begins to catch up to her. “I look in the mirror sometimes to see, but everyone says I look just like you.”

“I’m sorry, sweet girl, I wish things could be different.” He loves them the way they are, but he would never deny her the opportunity to have a mother.

“Do you think she’ll ever come to see me?”

“I don’t know, bug, I’m sorry.”

Wren pauses for a beat, like she’s thinking about exactly how it makes her feel.

“It’s okay, daddy, I love you most.” She presses a kiss to his cheek, sloppy and full of affection. Just enough to make him smile through this painful moment of parenting. “Just don’t ever leave me.”

“I’ve got you, don’t you worry about that.” He holds her like that for a while, listening to her breathing as it evens out, pressed against him with her rabbit beneath her arm. He slowly untangles himself and slides the length of the mattress, pressing a kiss to her head.

“Daddy?” Her sleep filled voice stops him in his tracks.

“Yeah?”

“Do I look like her…just a little?”

He wants to tell her that she looks like his little girl, the only thing that matters to him in the world, but he knows it's not what she needs right now.

“Of course you do.” She smiles sleepily and he places another soft kiss on her forehead. “Goodnight, sweet girl.”

“Goodnight, daddy.”

~*~

“Okay, Wren, you can pick one.” Steve stands at attention, one hand slipping from his pocket to secure the hat over Wren’s ears before she can jet off between the rows of pumpkins. He dots kisses on her nose, her tongue darting out to tease his chin much to her own amusement. “Just make sure it’s a good one, I don’t want one that’s molding after a few days like last time.”

“Daddy, that wasn’t my fault.” She’s adamant, has been ever since the incident first occurred. Now she’s taken to shifting on her feet with her hands on her hips, far too much like Steve if anyone were to judge. “You’re the one who put it right by the window so its insides got cooked by the sun!”

“I wasn’t blaming you, I was just saying!”

It was a promise he made the morning after the talk. To come out to one of the local farms and let Wren pick a pumpkin out this weekend. She’s been on her best behavior and he still feels guilt bleeding into his gut after what happened.

Either way it’s tradition, letting her pick a pumpkin so they can gut it and carve it into a face. Wren is mostly into the sport of the whole thing, running up and down the rows of the patch dead set on finding the perfect pumpkin. She’s usually too grossed out by the mess of scooping the stringy organs of the fall fruit and Steve is certainly not comfortable with her wielding a carving knife, but he always lets her draw the face, silently questioning her ability to get the marker everywhere.

She also loves roasting the seeds and Steve usually picks a second pumpkin because Joyce will make pie or a pumpkin roll.

Wren races off, her converse kicking up the dried dirt and leaves beneath her feet. Steve watches her closely, wincing when she nearly trips over a root. Never a dull moment.

“Hey…you’re Wren’s dad, right?” The tone is teasing, and Steve glances to find you, Wren’s teacher with an assortment of baby pumpkins in a crate tucked in your arms.

You spotted him in the thin crowd after purchasing the barrage of seasonal squash and debated for the better part of five minutes whether it would be odd to amble over. Curiosity got the better and here you stand in the beholden of Steve Harrington with what you would describe as a look of adorable confusion dotting the lines of his cheeks.

“Hi, yeah, nice to see you again, Ms…”

“Y/n is fine.”

“Y/n. Are you hunting for class pumpkins?” He gently coaxes the box from your arms, chuckling at the way your shoulders sag without the extra weight. He glances toward Wren, making sure she’s not too far gone and finds her bent over chatting animatedly with a plump gourd.

“Yeah, I thought it would be fun to have a little pumpkin decorating contest. Though, glitter and paint…I might not have as much fun as them.” He’s immediately smitten with your smile, the way it takes over the entirety of your face and pushes at the edges of your eyes. “What about you? Gonna see if you can out decorate Wren? I’ve got bad news for you because as her teacher I can confirm that you’re gonna lose.”

“Oh I have no doubt. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve fished one of her drawings out of my pocket at work.” He sounds exasperated but the entirety of his fondness is concentrated in the raised crinkles of his eyes.

“That’s so sweet.”

“Not so sweet when you pass it to your boss instead of the list of new releases—”

“Aw, he didn’t like it?” Your hand covers the crease in your cheek, feigned surprise to counter Steve’s lopsided grimace.

“Told me to stop messing around on the job.”

“Well, I think it’s totally worth it. You’ve got a pretty great kid.” It feels odd, the umbrella of formality shading your exchange. Steve’s not sure what it is, but as much as he wants to he feels awkward suggesting a topic more casual than a teacher praising her pupil, unsure if it would be a toe too far over the line. “You never called by the way!”

“Huh?” He’s taken out of his thoughts for a moment, the words something he hasn’t heard someone say to him with such curiosity since high school. It’s ridiculously reminiscent and he has to remind himself that he’s so far removed from that time in his life that it wouldn’t make any sense to think of it now.

“About that meeting you wanted to set up. I only mention it because you seemed a little concerned…”

“Oh, yeah. Maybe we could do it sometime this week? I can plan a half day and we can talk when I come to pick Wren up…I promise I’ll be on time.”

“Yeah, that sounds fine. How is Wren after the other day? She was pretty shaken up.” Your concern warms him beneath the cool of autumn, the sight of Wren happier than ever zig-zagging between pumpkins not enough to sway you from the certainty of her well-being.

He wonders if his sudden fondness for you is strange. Hopefully not when you’ve shown such an astounding interest in his daughter. He hasn’t missed the extra encouragement on her papers, little notes left in the margins about the anecdotes Wren shares with you in class.

He’s choosing to ignore the flutter of attraction that washed over him when he saw you standing there with pumpkins in your arms. It’s simple but the way you’re wearing your cute orange sweater and flared jeans is like nothing he’s seen before. Not the clothes really, but the way you wear them with such nonchalance, picking at pumpkin shaded fuzz like you don’t realize you’re more than a momentary guide for the youth of Hawkins.

“She’s better, thank you for asking.”

“Daddy!” Just in time Wren sprints over, tugging on the fabric of his jeans with urgency. He thinks she might have to use the restroom with the way she balances on the toes of her converse, eyes larger than usual. “Daddy, come on we have to get this one before someone takes it! What’s in your hands? You can’t carry our pumpkin with that thing in the way.”

“I’m sorry, your dad was just giving me a hand.” Wren spots you then, hanging from Steve’s leg like she’ll fly away if she eases up.

“Oh…hi. Did you hear about the pumpkins too?” She glances the way she came, still on edge about the perfect pumpkin escaping her grasp. “My daddy and I are gonna decorate one. I want it to look like Uncle Eddie.”

She does the horns again and Steve swears he’s gonna kick Eddie’s ass.

“That sounds like fun! I don’t wanna keep you from your pumpkin, but you can tell me all about it on Monday. Maybe even take a picture so we can hang it in the classroom.”

Wren brightens at that, half because you’ve remembered her camera and half at the prospect of her hellfire pumpkin wreaking havoc on her classmates. You look back at Steve, arms extended for the lofty crate and he hesitates for a moment. He’s not unnoticed by Wren who glances between her teacher and her dad, catching the lack of space between them.

“You should come have lunch with us! We’re going to Benny’s and he has the yummiest french fries. Don’t you like french fries?” She inquires with her wide eyes, forgetting altogether about the perfect pumpkin, Steve notes.

“Come on, Wren, everyone loves french fries.” You placate her, though not without glancing at Steve, bashful under his attentive gaze. He doesn’t step in, more than happy to have you join but no intention to pressure you more than Wren already has. He knows it may seem mean spirited, but he’s not willing to embarrass himself by making it clear he’s not ready to see you go, whatever the reason may be. “You know, I’d love to, but I should probably get home.”

“Noooo!” Wren drags it out, leaving a wrinkle where she’d been gripping Steve’s pants. He shakes the leg and watches horrified when Wren clears the gap between the two of you and yanks the edge of your sweater. “You have to come! It’ll be perfect!”

“Wren.” He hopes the hard tone isn’t something he’ll have to use more often, but it does the trick. Wren takes a step back, the grace of embarrassment sticking to her cheeks in a rose blush. “Sorry, she just gets a little excited sometimes. But you’re more than welcome to join us if you want.”

“I don’t wanna impose, looks like you two are having a cute day together.”

“It’s not imposing, we’re inviting you.” Steve tuts, freeing his hand long enough to swipe at a strand clinging to his forehead. He can see you thinking it over, which means that you do want to come, you just aren’t sure it’s a good idea. “Benny does have the best fries.”

“Yeah, and you look cute today too! It’ll be a cute day with the three of us!”

“Well…I am pretty hungry. Plus, I think I have to be the judge of those fries.”

“Yay!” Wren dances in place, reaching for Steve’s occupied hands. “Daddy, we have to go get our pumpkin. I want chicken tendies.”

“Ok, why don’t you go on over and make sure no one takes it. I’ll be there in a second.” He nods in the direction she came from, watching her skip back between the rows with nothing more than a breathless affirmation.

“Are you sure you don’t mind me tagging along? I know it can be hard to say ‘no’ sometimes.”

“Positive. Wren seems to like you a lot and I'd like to get to know you better myself.”

“I’d like to get to know you too. I mean, it’s always good to know what kinds of parents I’m working with.” He’s cheeky now, element restored upon realization that you’re just as nervous as he is.

“If you like to get to know all your parents…then you were just playing hard to get?” You blanche, placing your hands on the edge of your crate of pumpkins. You lose your balance but Steve tugs the weight toward him to help you steady.

You’re transfixed following your dissipation of momentary panic. If you thought Eddie was pretty you aren’t quite comfortable with the way your chest skips a beat when you really look at Steve.

There’s something of a conventional attraction to him, all hazel eyes and big hair, styled just perfectly to steal your attention away from the deep blue fleece jacket obscuring the t-shirt you imagine hugging his arms. His smile pushes into dimples, precious divots in the plains of his complexion, curling with his lips when he speaks.

There are also the perfect imperfections like moles dotting his skin and the freckles lining his nose from the kiss of summer still lingering with his fading tan. The way his nose stands out amongst the symmetry of his features, all but forcing you to wonder what it would feel like if you kissed him and felt the flush of it against your skin.

“As if any of them would offer.”

“Hm, their loss.”

“Strong words for someone who doesn’t know me all that well. Let me take those! I think I’ve kept you from your pumpkins long enough.” Both of you realize the awkward dance you’re fallen victim to. Fingers kissing in the holes of the crate in effect of your attempt to fully unmarry Steve from it. “Um…thanks for the break. Should I meet you guys at Benny's? I don’t want these to get all gross in the car, so I wanna drop em’ off.”

“We could pick you up.” Steve takes a leap, unclear of his intentions but too late to take it back. He can hear a distant singing, Wren’s attempts to coax him in her direction and it forces him further. “I mean, it’s no trouble. Would be easier if we just grabbed you on the way because I never know how long she’s gonna take with these things.”

“I’m well aware.” You laugh and he knows you really mean it. It’s a refreshing feeling, someone who actually understands him rather than blank stares and constant confusion when he explains a concept foreign to anyone without a mini version of themselves plodding two steps behind them at all times. You pull a pad from the tote hanging on your shoulder and an ink pen just behind it; scribbling for a moment you tear the flesh of the page slipping it between Steve’s fingers. “Take your time, I’m happy to wait until she has the perfect pumpkin.”

“Strong words.”

“I mean every one of them.”

~*~

As it turns, the perfect pumpkin took longer than you initially anticipated. Not that you mind, it gave you enough time to make sure all your pumpkins were clean and stored somewhere suitable until you brought them in Monday morning. You almost want to change, the lingering layer of dirt a ghost against your skin, but it feels too formal and you don’t want Steve to think anything of it.

You opt to thoroughly wash your hands and spritze a fresh layer of perfume, in the middle of the second step when there’s a knock at the door. You fumble the bottle, panicking when it crashes into the porcelain sink just barely catching between your thumb and pointer. Your recovery is short lived when you hear the front door balancing on its hinges.

“Hello! We’re here for Ms. Y/l/n.” Wren sings and you can already picture your aunt bending to greet her with the biggest smile, glancing toward Steve filled with a hopeful curiosity.

You hurry into the hall, watching Steve’s shoulders loosen when he spots you speeding toward them. Your aunt is in fact folded in half, her hands on her knees while she talks to Wren. You hope she’s not wearing her usual perfume, the one that makes her smell more like a burnt cookie than the fresh one touted on the label.

“Well hi there! I don’t think we’ve met before.” You lock eyes with Steve, hoping the funny look on your face is explanation enough.

“I’m Wren Harrington! I’m five years old and I want chicken tenders.” Wren slouches backward into Steve’s legs, eyes brightening like she’s just realized he’s there. “This is my daddy!”

“Steve, nice to meet you.” You bound over, placing your hand on the curve of your aunt’s shoulders, drawing her attention away from your current company. You see the glint in her eye before she can speak, lengthening your speech for the occasion.

“I’ve told you about Wren before! She’s the one who drew me that lovely picture with all the flowers.” You draw the comparison because it was ages spent listening to her talk about how cute it was everytime she opened the fridge. You agree, but the gasp of shock with nearly every gallon of iced tea has grown to an increasing redundancy so you’re positive she hasn’t forgotten it.

“You saw my picture?” It’s like it’s been hung in a gallery the way Wren leaps forward, her eyes finding pace around the room like it’s here and she just hasn’t found it yet. You can guess her own house must be filled with her in small doses, plastered to the fridge and reflected in frames. It doesn’t take a degree to see that Steve is just as fond of Wren as she is of him, his eyes lingering on her excitement.

“I sure did, made your favorite teacher hang it right on the fridge for everyone to see!”

“Can I see?!” Wren glances at Steve, a silent permission to venture further into the unfamiliar home when your aunt extends her hand.

“Go on.” He nods, patting her back to gently thrust her forward. He gives you his whole attention then, brow raised against his hairline and a kind smile cresting his lips. “The fridge huh?”

“You should’ve just honked, it would’ve saved you the trouble.”

“I don’t mind. Wren can find a friend in just about anyone.” You can hear the excited chatter coming from the kitchen, no doubt Wren’s willingness to guide her audience through the entirety of her creation from the color crayons to the touch of glitter you recollect painting the sky. There’s an awkward lull standing here with Steve, one you attempt to remedy.

“So, what is it that you do exactly? You’ve mentioned work keeps you occupied.”

“Oh.” Steve shifts awkwardly, cheeks tinged a crimson shade. You worry you’ve stepped too far, still unversed in the politics of small town suburbia.

“I’m sorry, that was rude. Forget I asked.” Steve knuckles your shoulder, a small smile, a consolation.

“No, it’s…I don’t mind. Let’s just say I’m no professional or anything.”

“You’ve got time, I promise. No judgment here.”

“I’ve been working at Family Video since I graduated basically. Not that I would’ve gotten in, but with Wren college was near impossible.” You don’t miss the derogation coating the words. It pains you to think he blames his lack of what he deems professionalism on some preconceived notion of success not within his reach. “I’m not really sure what to do now, so it puts food on the table, ya know?”

“Nothing wrong with not knowing. Especially when you and Wren are both so young.” You shrug, your own attempt at alleviating the misplaced self hate. “I mean, maybe she can help you find what you wanna do. Kids tend to be the best judge of character.”

“You’re the best!” Wren runs back into the room, bulldozing right into your knees and burrowing into your sweater. “Thank you for hanging my picture.”

“See?” You nudge Steve, assuaging his uncertainty about Wren’s sudden affection. “Of course I hung it, no one’s ever drawn me anything before. I love it!”

“Well, I can draw you pictures all the time. Don’t even worry about it!” Wren’s exuberance is palpable, the whole of the room sprinkled with the fondness of her unbridled youth. “Can we go now? I’m hungry.”

“You all should get going, don’t let me keep you. I’ve got a coffee date with Gretchen anyhow.” She all but shoves the lot of you toward the front door, Wren already fastened around the hand your aunt hasn’t shoved your purse into. “Have fun! It was nice meeting you two, we’ll have dinner sometime.”

It’s a process getting Wren into her booster, her body flailing all over the place like her limbs are sentient in their own right. It’s the excitement of the whole thing and Steve is out of breath but still calm when he settles in the driver's seat. You manage to school your amusement, but he catches a glimpse of it all the same.

“Something funny?”

“Nope, we're all good. Right, Wren?”

“All good!” She parrots, a small blanket tucked across her chest. It’s cute, a soft pink color patterned with white plaid. “Your aunt is very nice but she smells like fire and chocolate. I thought she was cooking badly, but she said she wasn’t cooking anything.”

“Wren, that's not very nice.” Steve admonishes, tinkering with the dial on the radio.

“No it’s okay, she’s right. It’s her new perfume, Wren. I haven’t had the heart to tell her it doesn’t smell as good as she thinks.” Your head lolls over, eyes glancing toward the backseat where Wren is picking at her nails. “Hey, you got the pumpkins!”

She looks at you, then flashes her hand forward to point at them. “I got candy corn too! I think they taste gross, but Max said it just looks pretty.”

“They do, they look so pretty. I’m jealous.”

“I also got a ghost…his name is Steve Sheet.” She wags her pointer finger, painted black with an open mouthed ghost staring back.

“Any relation?” You momentarily lock eyes with the human Steve as he fastens his arm around your seat and pushes to reverse.

“I’m not sayin a word.”

“Last Halloween I asked daddy to dress up with me and he wore a sheet on his head. I asked if he was a ghost and he said he was Steve Sheet.” Wren fills in giggling. “Isn’t that just so silly?”

“The silliest. But I bet Steve Sheet was very cute.”

“I was a very handsome sheet, thank you. Wren, hand please.” You look back in time to see her pulling her fingers from her lips and wiping them on her bottoms. She mumbles something about how he always sees her, very inconvenienced by the whole thing.

There’s a contented silence for the remainder of the ride to Benny’s save for Wren’s frequent mumbling to herself in the backseat. Steve seems unbothered, like she does it often. When you take a moment to listen long enough you realize she’s practicing reading the signs as they flash. You’ve been working on helping her with pronunciation in class and she’s still having trouble but your heart is full at how easily she can make out the words even if they don’t sound entirely correct.

You think you could stay like this. A fleeting thought, but a thought you know is genuine.

When you’re finally sliding into a table at Benny’s Burgers Wren is a bit stumped. You and Steve take opposite sides of the table and the girl stands at the head like you’ve given her an impossible choice.

“Where should I sit?” Hands on her hips, lips pouting toward the two as if you should’ve all sat on one side.

“You should sit with me because I’m your favorite teacher in the world, right?” You slide the chair out, patting the lightly cushioned seat with a candy grin. Wren slowly nods her head, drifting over.

“Now wait just a second!” Steve cuts him, feigned offense lining his lips. He frees the chair beside him from beneath the table, dotting his chin with his pointer finger in much thought. “I think that as the best daddy in the world, your words Miss Harrington not mine, you should come and sit next to me.”

“That’s a good point, I did say that. Benny, what do I do?” The man himself stations at the head of the table, a kind smile when Wren addresses him with his grease stained henley and a loose apron lining his waist. “We have to talk about getting a circle table. At school we have circle tables and I can sit next to both of my friends!”

“I’ll see what I can do.” He chuckles, plopping a thin coloring book and a box of crayons down and sliding one of the extra chairs so it’s situated between yourself and Steve. “For now, how about this?”

“Perfect! And you remembered my coloring book? You’re the best!” Wren climbs into the seat, flipping the book open to a half colored kitten with rainbow stripes and exaggerated whiskers. “Benny this is Ms. Y/l/n, she’s my teacher and she’s never had your french fries before.”

“Well she better be new in town.” He huffs, mocking some fickle offense at the mere thought. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too, and call me Y/n. I’m pretty eager to try the best fries ever.”

“Well I’ll get started on em right away if you all know what you want? Well…I know what these two regs want.” He nods toward Steve and Wren, the former seeming caught at the revelation that they come here far more than maybe they should. “What can I get you?”

“I’ll take a cheeseburger, no tomato please, with fries and a coke.” Benny nods, tapping his pen against the pad of paper and trudging back to the kitchen.

“Wren, you can call me by my first name when we’re not in school, I promise I don’t mind.” You pat her free hand, the one not hard at work coloring the kitten a lovely shade of amethyst. She looks up, lips opening and closing silently. Practicing.

“First name?” She asks, like it’s a trick.

“Uh huh! It feels so weird to be Ms anything outside of school. Makes me feel old.” Wren giggles but goes back to her coloring, mumbling a chord in which she just repeats your name to herself over and over. You find Steve then, pulling at the plastic corner of one of the menus.

“How long have you been in town?” He attempts to lead the conversation, still not exactly sure where to take you. He hopes you don’t bring him to the realization that you’ve really always been in town, perhaps one of those people he was always too self involved to notice.

It seems unlikely, the whole of your existence feeling like something he wouldn’t have been able to ignore in school. Though perhaps you’d be the one doing the ignoring, far too out of his league when he really thinks of it.

“Oh, not long. I only got in officially about a week before school started. I’m still getting used to it all really. The small town vibe.”

“You didn’t live here before?” Wren interrupts, moved from the kitten to the tight ball of yarn with a soft orange crayon.

“Nope. I moved here to work after school. Hawkins seemed like a good place to get my feet wet after student teaching in the city.”

“Well I’m glad you’re here!” Benny cuts in again then, passing drinks around, a sippy cup filled with juice for Wren, like it’s been waiting for her return. “The other teacher seemed nice, but I heard she always gave the class raisins for snack.”

“I’m glad I’m here too.” You scrunch your nose, sipping from your coke and nearly coughing from the sudden carbonation building in your chest. “It’s nice, but it’s definitely daunting. Everyone already seems to know each other so I’m not really sure where I fit.”

“Trust me, it’s not just because you’re new. People here are unwelcoming at the best of times even if they’re all smiles. But now you’ve got Wren and I to show you the ropes.” Steve grabs a hold of Wren’s sippy cup, double checking Benny didn’t sneak any soda, and slips it closer to the center of the table so Wren’s arm isn’t nearly nudging it to the floor.

You’re amiable until your food arrives, Steve inquiring about your time in school, clearly feeling some sense of longing though you’re not sure what for exactly. It’s hard to grasp his feelings on the whole thing and you’re too uninitiated to ask outright.

You lightly tread when asking him about his own experiences. He mostly talks about Wren in her younger years— ”Daddy it was always Floppy!” —and the gaggle of children that have become all but his family. He glosses over the ones long gone and nestles himself in the affection of the ones gone but soon to return. By the time Benny is placing steaming plates in front of your intimate trio you feel like you’d do anything to know more about Steve Harrington. So open yet admiringly elusive.

You decide rather quickly that Benny’s fries are some of the best you’ve ever had and Wren seems satisfied at your admission. She doesn’t talk much through her eating, but Steve seems worried about the way she’s shoveling it down.

“Lovebug, please slow down before you choke. I promise it’s not going anywhere. Have a drink of juice.”

“But daddy, I’m hungryyyy!” She drags the words like she’s not already eating, like taking even a moment from the crispy chicken will be her end all. Steve ignores the drama, wetting his thumb and dragging it along a dollop of ketchup at the corner of her lips.

“Wren, please.” Is all he says, sucking his finger clean and taking a hearty bite of his burger. She listens, taking a lengthy sip of juice but immediately shoving another tender into her cheeks. Steve looks like he’s prepared to scold her again but her brows lift to the sky and she bounces in her seat.

“Uncle Eddie!” Wren exclaims through her mouthful of chicken. She halfheartedly chews, suddenly annoyed with the obstruction of speech. Even through the mumbled clamor Eddie is attuned to her presence right away. He struts over, the metal looped through his jeans clanking beneath the slap of his converse against the checkerboard tile. He’s not alone though. “Uncle Eddie, who is that lady?”

She points to the girl who’d followed after him, standing a ways away like she wasn’t sure if she was welcome. If it were up to Wren she certainly wouldn’t be.

“Hey, little bird, how’s my favorite girl?” Wren wastes no time making it abundantly clear she is not pleased that anyone else could take up Eddie’s time. She hums, settling back into her seat and chugging her juice.

“Wren slow down, please.” Steve’s speech is automatic, you can tell it’s a common occurrence when Eddie doesn’t flinch.Steve isn’t nearly as coy about his line of questioning as Wren, peeking over Eddie’s shoulder but having half a mind to lower his voice so as not to scare her off. “You on a date?”

“Something like that.” He waves it off, but brightens when his gaze lands on you, somewhat embarrassed to see Eddie after all but assuming he was Wren’s dad. “Seems I’m not the only one. What’s up, teach?”

“Hey, Uncle Eddie. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Yeah I heard I was in trouble. I haven’t had detention since high school, but I have a feeling you’d make it a lot more fun.” He teases and Steve kicks his leg where rests at the base of Wren’s chair.

“Uncle Eddie, sit with us!” Wren tugs at the lining of his jacket, whining a tad. It’s obvious it’s Eddie’s kryptonite, the way he kneels beside her and places a gentle kiss against her cheek indicative of how much it pains him to say ‘no’.

“I’m sorry, sweetness, but I’m here with my friend.”

“Who is she? I don’t know her.”

“No, you don’t. She’s just a friend, Wrennie, you don’t have to be jealous.” Eddie coos, pushing his nose against Wren’s to which she places her hands on his cheeks, pulling back to press her own kiss against his soft skin.

“Daddy said date. A date is for love.”

“Sometimes a date can just be for fun or to get to know someone.” Eddie corrects, you and Steve watching him attempt to talk himself out of her bad graces.

“You don’t need to get to know someone, you have me.”

“And you’re my favorite girl in the whole world, but I have to have someone to keep me occupied when your dad is hogging you.” Steve scoffs, hogging his own daughter, a highly amusing feat he seems to have reached. “I’ll come see you tomorrow. You can have me the whole day.”

“Promise?” She extenders her pinky, her other hand curling its way around a piece of Eddie’s hair and gently yanking it at the roots.

“I promise, super duper swear.” He connects their pinkies and tucks them against his lips. When he releases her she looks at his companion once more, moved to a table in the corner, where she periodically glances over like Eddie might have a seat or turn around and leave without her. She seems content enough and shoves a fry into her mouth, chewing animatedly. “Speaking of dates, this is a cute one you guys are on.”

“It’s not a date Eddie, it’s a cute day!” Wren corrects, rubbing her salty fingers on her shirt before Steve can catch her with a napkin. There are already stains where she’d clearly already gotten away with it a number of times. “Daddy, are you okay? Why are you so red?”

Despite your own heat, you look at Steve but not long enough for him to feel more embarrassed than he does. Eddie smiles, clapping Steve on the shoulder triumphantly.

“I’m not, it’s just warm in here.” Steve mutters, avoiding you altogether.

“You look like a tomato.” She counters, dipping her fry in ketchup and holding it up to his face before shoving it at Eddie who bites it out of her hand.

“No, I think it’s more like a heart. Right, Wren?”

“Yeah a heart.”

“Eddie, I think your friend is waiting for you.” You pipe up, pointing to the girl in the corner who is suddenly simpering. You don’t blame her irritation, being left alone while her date shoots the shit with people he won’t even introduce her to. Not that it would go particularly well. You’ve seen kids at their most jealous and suddenly Wren is no exception.

“Okay, I goin. But don’t have too much fun without me, we still have to schedule that detention!”

“Yeah, because Uncle Eddie has been bad!” Wren contributes, seeming to forget her role as a silent accomplice in the whole thing.

“So bad!” Eddie agrees, sending Steve a wink over his shoulder. “I can’t wait to be punished.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #stranger things imagine #steve harrington fic #singledad!steve harrington #singledad!steve x teacher!reader #singledad!steve harrington x reader

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thirdrootwriting · 2 months

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Brother of my Brother (Infinite Crisis - Bad End) pt3

Back to Jason POV. There is some gore, torture, and gun violence in this one.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

The thing about Lex Luthor was the man had an insatiable need to stick his fingers into every available pie, the greedy capitalistic little Jack Horner pig. If some serious shit went down, there was an absolute guarantee that Luthor had started that shit, worsened that shit, or offered some incredibly condescending ' help' with that shit that was -in reality- probably just a disguised ploy to fuck with Superman.

(And holy hell, Jason could admit that he personally had raging inferiority issues, both before and after his resurrection, but the way Luthor was with Superman made his relationship with the original Robin AND Robin 3.0 look like the model of mental health by comparison).

All this in mind, if you wanted to know something and didn’t feel like trying your luck snooping around Batman's shit, the next best thing was to hop a city over to the next autocratic billionaire. Armed with that knowledge, and with the street cred of being known as one of Gotham's rouges, it's not hard to growl and posture in front of the right seedy bar-owners, fixers, and middle-men to track down a villain that's been getting cash flow from Luthor.

People in that sort of game might be hard enough to keep their composure and claim ignorance in front of the Big Bad Bat himself, but are always willing to spill the latest gossip to a guy with a rap-sheet, well-used guns, and blood under his nails. It's how they connect thugs and D-list villains to people Luthor or Talia for use as cannon fodder, and while it's annoying as fuck to be seen as nothing more than a gun for hire, it is useful.

So useful, that only three days after reading that stupid memorial page, the Red Hood's got his gun under the chin of some little mathlete, computer nerd called the Calculator (stupid name), the guy squealing about the Secret Society of Supervillains (stupider name) that Luthor had set up with Talia, who really could do better in terms of company, and that fucking creep Deathstroke.

Three fingers shot off at point blank and one knee crunched to bony, gritty pieces under his boot, and the Red Hood's heard way more than he cares to regarding this little fun-time club of murders, their plans for a world-wide prison break (like Arkham didn't have those regularly on its own), the JLA's nasty little foray into memory alteration (the good guys pulling, morally objectionable, authoritarian shit? Say it ain't so!), and how the Luthor leading them had actually been an alternative universe fake trying to pull some sort of multiverse ending evil scheme.

Fun times all around, and the Red Hood could not give less of a shit about any of it if he tried.

Hood readjusts his weight, putting more of it on his left leg that's bearing down on the Calculator's ruined knee. The man underneath him lets out a whimpering, scream. Hood lets his gun's aim wander slowly down the guy's body, he thinks about pointing it at the fucker's crotch just to see if he'll start crying again but decides to have a bit of class and lets the muzzle rest on the Calculator's other, intact knee instead.

"That'd all be real interesting if I gave a shit about what you were getting up to Noah, but I what I want to know is how things shook out. The world's still standing right? So whose dead now that the dust's settled, and how they'd get there? That's the real question."

Hood taps the gun muzzle twice against Calculator's knee. He won't actually shoot, too much chance of hitting a blood vessel and having the guy go unconscious and useless from blood loss, but he doubts this computer geek knows that.

Way too many villains get into this gig all excited about torture, extortion, and killing with absolutely no defenses on what too do if the tables are reserved. It's always hilarious watching them shit their pants and scramble when they suddenly weren't the meanest thing in the room.

"I-, I-, the Luthor we were working with, the one from Earth-3, he ran so the heroes didn't get him, but he's dead already. He made the mistake of trying to go to ground in Gotham, and the Joker got him. Apparently the fucking clown was pissy he didn't invited to festivities, as if anyone half-way sane is willing to team up with his crazy ass." The Calculator grunts out, eyes wide and desperate as they track the gun that's poised over his one remaining knee.

Ugh, what a fool-ass rookie mistake. You only tried going to ground in Gotham if were unhinged and bloodthirsty enough to be too much of a pain in the ass to attack or you were homegrown on its cursed soil and knew how to avoid the city's resident cast of horrors. Hood's willing to guess any version of Luthor's a dangerous genius, but unless this version liked peeling people's faces off and eating them for a midday snack, he'd undoubtedly instead got eaten alive himself by Gotham's hungry jaws.

A least if the Joker got him, the guy definitely didn’t die a nice, easy death. Jason knows that with a painful certainty.

"Mmh, closer to having something actually useful to say. But hey, you went to ground in Gotham too, huh Noah, and it seems that's working out a bit better for you!"

Hood grinds his left heel down again. His boots are too thick to feel the grit of shattered bone, but he can hear the mess of tendons, viscera, and bone shards underneath the Calculator's latest, warbling scream. The guy pissed his pants right around the time Hood shot off his second finger, and the whole air would likely have the sharp mixed stinks of urine and blood if he removed his helmet.

"Was working out for you, I should say. You must be a local boy, huh?" Hood pauses, till the Calculator's eyes have refocused enough to show he's paying attention to Hood instead of his own pain.

"So, from one Gotham boy to another, how'd it shake out for our Bats? I hear our latest little Robin got out fine, and god only fucking knows that we ain't lucky enough to hope Batman got offed, but how'd birdy number 1 fare?" It's hard to resist the temptation to grind down on the man's shattered bones again, to resist pulling the trigger and making him bleed. Jason can feel himself losing control of the urge to send this piece of trash to hell where he belongs.

"How's Nightwing doing these days?"

"Nightwing and Superboy took down the machine-tower Earth-3 Luthor was using to rewrite the multiverse. I didn't see in person, but I hacked communications, and from Wonder Woman's report Luthor killed Nightwing in rage as reve-"

Hood yanks the aim of the gun up from Noah Kuttler's knee to his skull and blows his fucking brains out close range. The left side of the Calculator's face explodes into a mess of brain tissue and blood.

He gives the body a final kick, then lets himself out of the apartment that piece of trash had set up as a his hideout. It's Gotham, and the few cops not corrupt enough to ignore this are too overworked to give a shit about some villain's death, so no need to waste his time taking out the trash.

Hood slams the door of the run down apartment complex behind him, and stomps out onto the chilly streets. It's not raining, just damp and cold as Gotham usually is in the fall, so there might still be people, but Jason doesn't really give a fuck right now. Between his now-infamous helmet, his more obvious guns, and the wide shoulders he grew into, nobody's gonna mess with him as he prowls the streets.

And if they do, well, actually smashing some drug dealer or rapist shit's head against ground still it cracks like a bloody egg sounds like a good time with the mood he's in.

Hood makes it four blocks, not thinking about where's he going and not lucky enough to pass someone dumb enough to try starting shit with him, before he can even think above the cold, angry, itching boiling beneath his skin.

He needs a plan, he needs to do something, do anything. Jason will boil himself alive in his own itching skin with his rage if he has to just sit on it. He'd planned to kill whoever had murdered Nightwing, figured it would be some hot-shot that got a lucky hit in the chaos of battle, or some too clever for their own good smarmy loser who'd gotten an advantage by holding a little side-kick hostage.

Jason could have worked off his rage on giving them a death that was almost as slow they'd deserved for taking someone like his brother from him and Gotham, and finally proved, that at least in this respect, he was better than Rob-, than Nightwing. He might not be so nice, so naturally talented, so charismatic, but he could have proved himself better in this and given Dick's death the closure a good person like him deserved.

He realizes his loud, angry walk has taken him close to the warehouses of the harbor, the drafty old buildings three times as likely to be housing some sort of illegal goings-on as they are to be housing shipping containers.

His- his- second time heading out as Robin with Nightwing, had been around here.

Jason had jumped into a drug-processing scheme too early, nearly ruined the bust. Nightwing had to swoop in and rescue him - though instead of cracking heads, the annoying prick had just flashed a fake, movie-star smile and sweet-talked the guards and drug processors into letting them walk out.

He'd scolded Jason a bit afterwards, but taken the sting out of it by inviting him along on the real bust later that night. Afterwards he'd shot Robin a much gentler, beaming real smile and told him 'good job'. Then he'd ruined that soft, tingly feeling of pride at being treated like an equal by Nightwing, by prodding and whining until Jason had reluctantly let Dick buy him ice-cream.

Dick had flavor palate of a little kid in regards to sweets, and he'd gotten whipped cream and sprinkles on his. Jason had made fun of him for being 17 and eating like a 7 year old, and-

Jason's nearly twenty now, older than Dick had been when they first met. He's right near the age Dick was when Jason had died, a funny sort of parallelism.

Hey, with the way he's getting on with the family right now, chances are Jason will also miss his brother's funeral. How fuckin' hilarious is that?

He leans his head against one of the warehouse's outer walls and laughs. It comes out monstrous and distorted through his helmet's speakers. His gloved hands can't find purchase on his jacket's shoulders to rip up his own skin and let out some of the anger inside.

Anger and maybe not anger. His face feels wet and he's still laughing a bit. Whatever Jason's feeling it's bad, and he wants it gone. Needs to do something, anything for this feeling to be gone.

He doesn't know what to do though, and the unbearable tide of it swells and suddenly and desperately Jason can't help himself from thinking he wants to be 13 years old again getting painlessly snatched out of the air by Nightwing with a trapeze artist's instincts for a fall about to go wrong. He wants to be 14, half-asleep on a mountain-lodge couch on his first ever family vacation as his brother quietly tells his father Jason's a good kid, with the softest tone he's ever heard Dick aim at Bruce.

He wants to be 15 with this same unbearable angerfeargrief that is drowning him now swelling and calling his brother, his Robin, Bruce's first son, the only person in the world that might understand how he's feeling. The phone won't pick up, and he'd known that, known that the Titans were in space all distant and unreachable, but he'd still called.

Jason had still had a brother to call, and the promise that maybe someday it would connect.

He dials Dick Grayson's current civilian number on numbs fingers.

"The number you are attempting to reach is not in service."

Jason hits redial. He can't say why, the call's not magically gonna go through this time.

"The number you are attempting to reach is not in service."

He redials the number manually, staring hard at the screen to make sure each button press is pulling up the correct number.

"The number you are attempting to reach is not in service."

Once more, repeating the phone number out loud to make sure he's remembering it correctly.

"The number you are attempting to reach is not in service."

#infinite crisis bad end au #jason todd #dick grayson #tw: guns #batfam #i do love villain jason actually and his tendency to lash out at everything #doesn't matter what he's doing or feeling as long as he's doing something method of grief/anger managment #there really is a batman villain whose thing is he likes to eat face btw #and one who likes peeling a wearing other peoples face and one who likes welding on doll faces and #panp7

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raaorqtpbpdy · 4 months

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Brotherhood (1)

Directly following the events of Double Helix, Danny enrolls in Bayville High school and joins the Brotherhood of Mutants. He's not sure if they actually believe he's a ghost and not a mutant, but at least they don't care enough to challenge him on it, and that's good enough for him.

Written for @crossoverdanuary Week 2024, Day 5: The Owl House X-Men Evolution | Shell

I have seen exactly two episodes of The Owl House, and that was like four years ago or something, so I was not confident in my ability to write a crossover for it.

The one word prompt doesn't actually appear until the second chapter, but I tried to work in a theme of both Danny and Wanda "coming out of their shell" throughout the fic. You can also read it on AO3.

Chapter 1: Halfway House

[Warnings for mild violence and mentions of mental health issues]

Danny never realized how much of a pain in the ass it was to enroll in school by himself. Jazz really deserved a lot more credit for dealing with all the stuff their parents forgot to do. It was so much paperwork. Nevertheless, with some effort, Danny got himself enrolled in Bayville High and slipped right in under the radar. Since his human form didn't stand out, he just showed up on his first day and figured things out from there.

Just like he'd suspected, there were several mutants at the school, meaning none of the other students picked up on Danny's weird vibes.

The guy who never took off his stupid sunglasses and the German kid whose hands were in a permanent Vulcan salute were perfect camouflage. At least, they helped him hide from the normal students. The mutant students picked up on him within the first week.

"Hey, new kid!" A group of students cornered Danny at his locker while he was switching out his books before heading to lunch.

He recognized most of them from his classes, Lance, Pietro, and a kid everyone called Toad, but Danny didn't know his real name. There was also a huge guy with a blond Mohawk who was about the same size and Danny's dad, maybe even a few inches taller. Danny had seen him around school, since he was kind of hard to miss, but didn't have any classes with him, and so didn't know his name.

"Can I help you?" Danny asked.

"You're a mutant, aren't you?" Lance asked him.

"No. What's it to you?" Danny responded.

"We're called the Brotherhood of Mutants," Pietro explained. "Or just the Brotherhood for short. We've seen what you can do and we want you to join us."

"Unless you're already one of the X-Men," the big guy said. "You're not, are you?"

"Of course he's not. We would know if he was!" Pietro snapped. "So, what do you say?"

"Join you?" Danny raised an eyebrow and gave them a skeptical frown. "What exactly would that entail?"

"Oh it's great!" Toad told him. "You get to live at the board house where there's no rules, fight the X-Men... I mean... we always get our butts kicked, but it's still cool!"

"Free room and board is enticing," Danny admitted.

He was currently squatting in a for-sale home and only getting away with it because he was already gone for school before the first tour of the day and he thought of locks as more of a suggestion than a rule.

"But I don't join just any mutant group that offers me an invitation. What are your actual beliefs, your goals? What do you stand for?"

"Uhh...." Toad put a finger to his lip thoughtfully. "You know what, I don't really know."

"We stand for ourselves," Lance told him, pushing Toad aside. "Because when it comes down to it, nobody else will, and we freaks gotta stick together. You in or what? 'Cause we ain't gonna waste our time with you any longer than we have to."

Lance extended a hand to Danny, and Danny just looked at it for a long moment before accepting the handshake.

"I'm in," Danny agreed.

These guys seemed like dicks, to be honest, but their ideals aligned with his a whole lot better than professor goodie two-shoes. Plus, maybe it was just a coincidence or an accident, but they hadn't actually called him a mutant. They'd asked if he was, but hadn't pushed when he said no, not like that stupid professor had.

"Great," Lance said. "I'll pick you up in my jeep after school, but be on time because I'm not waiting for you."

"Oh, by the way, Tabitha's part of our group, too," Pietro told him. "You may know her as Boom Boom. Hope you don't mind if there's a girl in the house."

"Why would I mind?" Danny asked.

Pietro didn't answer, just sped away.

After school, he waited by what he assumed was Lance's jeep. It was the muddiest jeep in the school lot, so he was only guessing, but he was pretty sure. He ended up being right, and Lance drove them all to the Brotherhood's boarding house. The place was a disaster area, and a complete mess. There were still a couple of free rooms, but Danny opted to lay claim to the attic and moved one of the free beds up there.

"Why would you want the creepy old attic?" asked the big guy, whom everyone called Blob.

"Because, a haunted attic is objectively cooler and spookier than haunted bedroom," Danny told him matter-of-factly. "I'm not gonna be some lame bedroom ghost. What am I, an eight-year-old girl whose depressed mother drowned her in a bathtub? No! I'm a science experiment gone wrong. Besides, this place doesn't have a basement, so I have to settle for the next best thing."

"Oh... I guess that makes sense," Blob said, though he was scratching his head.

"Uh, no," Pietro disagreed. "It doesn't. This new guy is a straight up weirdo."

"So's Toad and we let him stick around," said Tabitha, climbing the stairs to drop off her backpack before heading out again to meet the X-girls at the mall. "At least Danny showers."

"Hey! I shower!" Toad argued indignantly. "I shower every month!"

—

"There's a new mutant at school. The Brotherhood just recruited him yesterday. Should we have invited him to join the Institute instead, Professor?" Jean asked.

She and some of the other X-Men had noticed that the new kid who'd just enrolled in their high-school had strange powers. He was pretty sneaky with them, and none of them could seem to figure out exactly what they were, so they'd just been keeping an eye on him. But now, he'd started hanging out with the Brotherhood mutants, so Jean had convinced the others to bring it up to Professor X for guidance.

"He might still change his mind," she continued. "He doesn't seem like a bad guy. I saw him turn invisible to avoid a group of jerks at school seeing him walk past."

"What?" Scott asked, quirking his eyebrows at her. "Invisibility? But I saw him use a power just like Kitty's to open his locker when it jammed."

"Like, no way!" Kitty argued. "The guy's totally a telekinetic!"

"Maybe he can replicate powers, then?" Rogue suggested. "Because I'm pretty sure I saw him trip Duncan on a patch of ice when he was being a douche."

"Hmm... interesting," Professor X said thoughtfully. "What was this boy's name, did you say?"

"Oh, no I didn't, it's Danny Fenton," Jean answered.

The professor's eyes widened in recognition.

"Do you know him, Professor?"

"Indeed," he confirmed, steepling his fingers as he considered his memories of the boy. "Daniel Fenton is a mutant with an incredibly powerful and versatile set of abilities, notably similar to the abilities ghosts are thought to have—flight, invisibility, intangibility, the ability to create cold spots, move objects telekinetically, and warp electrical fields, among others.

"I first met him at a mental care institution for mutants where I perform regular evaluations on their younger patients," he explained further. "Because of his particular range of powers, Danny is under the delusion that he actually is a ghost, rather than a mutant, and as such, he believes that he cannot die, which causes him to sometimes be reckless with his own life. It also upsets him severely to have his delusion challenged by others.

"I was informed of him escaping from the institution, not long ago, but I never would have expected him to come here. I'm even more surprised that he would be willing to align himself with a mutant group. He always showed clear disdain when I mentioned my school to him, and even more so when I tried to imply that he was truly a mutant, rather than a ghost."

"Sounds like Danny will end up being a powerful enemy," Scott said.

"Indeed," the professor agreed. "He's one of the most powerful mutants I know of, and to make matters worse, he has a tendency to lose control over his powers when you do or say anything to upset him."

"So basically, don't try to argue with him about being a ghost," Rogue surmised. "That about cover it?"

"For a start," Professor X said. "You'd also do well not to get in a debate with him about ideals, he's rather... passionate about his."

"I take it he doesn't agree with yours?" Scott guessed.

"You're quite correct," the professor confirmed. "You would all do well not to engage with him. Offering to let him join the institute at this juncture would no doubt end poorly. Best to leave him alone for now. But keep an eye on him. He could be dangerous."

"Understood, Professor."

—

"So, Lance," Danny crossed his legs and floated in the air by the couch in a way that he knew unsettled the rest of the Brotherhood, which of course meant he thought it was dreadfully funny, "care to explain the rumbling this morning? I'm pretty sure Bayville isn't on any fault lines."

"Kitty asked him to the dance," Toad answered for him, making mocking kissy faces at him.

Lance shoved his face away, but all five of them had already devolved into teasing Lance mercilessly.

"Stuff it, Toad. It's not a big deal," he said.

Danny snickered at him as the teasing continued, Tabitha seating herself on the arm of Lance's chair and leaning into his personal space to ask if Kitty was gonna be his girlfriend while he sat there with a resigned expression on his face.

"We wouldn't be caught dead at that stupid dance!" Blob declared, and Danny laughed even harder.

"Really Freddy?" Tabitha asked, tapping her finger on his nose with a teasing pout. "Aw, that's too bad. 'Cause I was thinking of askin' you."

"U-uh... you were?" Blob asked dumbly.

"Yeah, but if you don't wanna go..." she raised her arms as if giving up on the idea.

"Ooh! Ask me! I'll go!" Toad volunteered, jumping up and down with his hands raised.

"Pathetic," scoffed Pietro, always pretending he was too cool for the rest of them, like he wasn't sprawled out of the same greased stained couch the rest of them sat on.

"Hey, speedy." Tabitha turned to him and put her hands on her hips. "You think you're too good for me?" she asked, leaning down to him with laughter on her voice."

"Nah, you just couldn't keep up with me," Pietro explained. "I mean, I can keep four girls busy dancing at the same time." He did a lap around the room at super-speed to prove his point. "Ha!"

"What about you, cold spot?" she asked Danny.

"You're nice and all," he said with a light-hearted smirk, "but I'm only interested in people who don't know I'm alive, don't want me alive, or have actively tried to kill me in the past, whether or not they succeeded doesn't matter though."

"Is that so?"

Tabitha tossed one of her little bombs in his lap, but he turned intangible and let it blow up on the floor below him.

"Now that that's settled, let's all go! And show that school how to party!" She whooped and just like that, everyone was on board, even Lance seemed happy about it, although admittedly, Danny still wasn't really interested in going. A school dance sounded like a really boring way to spend his evening, and he didn't even have a suit.

Luckily, Danny found some nicer clothes in a box in the attic. They were a little big, but they'd do.

And like that, the Brotherhood all went to the school dance. Pietro actually showed up arm-in-arm-et-cetera with four different girls.

Danny wasn't much for dancing, but in the end, the dance was a lot more exciting than he'd thought it would be. That kind of thing happened when weird little dinosaurs tore up the dance floor—literally.

He was thrown off for a moment when one of them jumped at a girl and went right through her, thinking maybe the creature was some kind of ghost. But then a table went right through her too, and he made the connection. The girl was Lance's date, meaning she must've been Kitty, who was a mutant. Intangibility had to be her mutant ability. It was a good one, came in handy a lot. Good for her.

They looked scary, but the creatures weren't too hard to take down, especially not once Danny got his hands on one and could sense it was from another dimension. He'd never had much luck making portals before, but it was easier to send stuff back where it came from than it was for things to be in dimensions where they didn't belong, and after almost dying a second time, he finally managed to send one of the creatures back to its own dimension.

"How did you do that?" shouted the guy who always wore sunglasses—and after seeing him lift them to shoot lasers out of his eyes, Danny finally understood why.

"Uh... luck, mostly!" he answered.

Danny was getting the chance to see a lot of their abilities for the first time tonight. That red-headed girl had telekinesis. The German kid teleported away with his date after Lance ripped up the gym floor to corral the creature back Danny's way. These kids seemed to be pretty powerful.

Now that the gym was basically evacuated, it was just Danny, the mutants, and one more monster.

"Can you do it again?" Lance asked.

"Are you kidding? I barely did it the first time!"

While they were arguing, the creature forced its way into the hall.

"Shit! We better go after it!"

The remaining Brotherhood members and X-men left the gym, chasing after it. Down the hall, they ran into a guy Danny didn't recognize, but the X-men called him Forge, and he was carrying a strange device.

"Whatever that thing is, don't point it at me!" Danny said when he saw where Forge was aiming it, albeit probably unintentionally, and he stepped aside, out of the blast zone.

"It's a portal maker," said Forge. "It'll send them back to the dimension they came from."

"In that case, definitely don't point it at me," Danny said.

"My scans indicate traces in the gym."

"I already took care of the one in the gym, sent it back myself," Danny said. "We need to get the one that ran down the hall." Much to Danny's relief, Forge didn't question him, and instead, they all got back to running.

By the time they found the one that got away, Tabitha, Blob, and Toad had already taken care of it, and were sitting on it to keep it down.

"Hey, I recognize that thing!" Toad remarked, pointing to Forge's portal-maker.

"I modified to to sent these things back to the dimension they came from," Forge explained. "Everyone step back."

The three of them were more than happy to do so. The creature barely had time to get to its feet before it got zapped back home.

"That should be all of them," Forge said. "My sensors aren't picking up anymore traces from that dimension."

"Thank the Ancients," Danny said, half-sarcastically. "Does this kinda stuff happen a lot around you guys? Cause I may have to rethink my membership."

"You'd be more than welcome at the Xavier Institute," Scott started to say, only to get elbowed by Jean.

"He doesn't want to join Institute," Jean hissed. "Remember what the professor said?"

"Yeah, sorry, but she's right," Danny said. "Professor Xavier and I don't exactly see eye-to-eye. It was fun fighting monsters with you, but I'm gonna stick with the brotherhood. See ya around."

They two groups parted ways, The X-Men to their institute and the Brotherhood to their board house.

"I didn't know you knew Professor X," Tabitha said as they headed toward Lance's jeep. "How'd you meet him."

"At a mental institution," Danny answered, trying to keep his voice casual.

The casual tone did not prevent the rest of them form turning to stare at him when they stopped at a red light.

"It's nothing you guys have to worry about," he assured them. "I'm not crazy. It was just a misunderstanding."

"Some misunderstanding," Lance scoffed. "Let me guess, it was the ghost thing, right?"

"Are you really gonna go there?" Danny asked, his tone warning.

"Ha! No," Lance replied. "You may be a ghost, but I don't plan on joining you any time soon."

"Good call," Danny said.

He had no idea if these Brotherhood folks actually believed he was a ghost, or if they were just playing along, but it didn't actually matter. They respected him enough not to call him delusional, and that made them better than the X-Men and their fearless leader.

#dp #danny phantom #x men evolution #x men #dp x x men evolution #fic #things i wrote #crossover #dp crossover #crossover danuary week 2024 #crossover danuary week #double helix #brotherhood #sequel

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therandomfandomme · 3 months

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Do I have nightmares or dreams?

I told my gf some of my dreams and they told me those sound like nightmares and I kind of see where they're coming from, but I experience it as my brain being creative and I think there is some interesting storytelling/settings happening. But idk, so I'm telling y'all the three dreams that sparked my bf's statement and getting tumblr's opinion :D

1. The Getting Chased and Twin Fight Dream

I was going to this class we watched movies for and the movie started with two twenty or so dudes on the beach. Suddenly I was one of them and we were following these weird tracks (maybe investigating something?) when we came across this older man and struck up a conversation. Halfway through the conversation a tractor with a rolling thing in front came and we had to run for our lives as it chased us. We ended up in the harbor and jumped on one of the ships that started to drift out towards the open sea.

Naturally we started calling out for help, but as we did we noticed all the moored ships had evil vibes (one guy was pulling out teeth medieval style, some dude waved with a cut off arm, that sort of thing), so we noped the hell out. But they were coming to 'help us'. Now I was the old man and I had some unnatural skills, bc I could jump really far and I jumped from mast to mast and then I was in a forest and there was this cabin. I slowed and entered the cabin, which had glass floors and koi fish swiming underneath (funny how you remember details like that).

Anyways, I entered an office and I found my twin. Suddenly I knew that the guys were chasing me, because I had done something and I was going to kill my twin and take his place to disappear. Obviously we hadn't seen each other in years and we started yelling and fighting, until we had a break through and we were friends again. We went to this library living room and sat and chatted, until he said something stupid and I got mad and we started fighting again, but this time I did kill him.

Then I was entering the cabin again. We fought again, made up again, went to the living room again. And as I sat there, I suddenly said: "Can we pause the movie now?" Because I'd realized that I was in a movie and if we paused it now, we would always be stuck in this good moment and never have to live through the bad ending that was inevitable if it continued, because as a movie it was never going to have a different ending.

2. The Sibling Murder and Meat Forest Dream

I was in a boarding school somewhere, I think France, but it wasn't really important. I wanted to kill my older brother (I do not have an older brother). And there was this guy, whose little sister I was friends with, who told me how he killed their middle brother with a bow and arrow in the forest next to the school. I convinced his little sister to sneak out with me to go look at the forest, because I wanted to see how and where he'd done it.

So me and this girl were walking through the forest and I started to feel kind of bad, because she seemed to be having a good time and saying how glad she was we still hung out like this, meanwhile I was looking around to see her brother's murder site. So I asked her if she knew what her brother had done. She turned around and said: "Of course" and her eyes were hollowed out and black and her mouth was filled with little sharp teeth (think Bilbo in Rivendell when he sees the Ring again) and then she lunged at me.

I jumped back in fear and started running with her chasing me. All around me the forest was now meat. Well, the ground was red pulsing meat, the branches were still wood but all the leaves were like skin hanging from them. Until I shot out of the forest and unto the boarding school lawn and up to the front door on which I started pounding, until finally the headmistress opened up. I started to explain what happened, apologize for being out late, but that I'd make it up and I just got scared because my mind started playing tricks on me and that my friend was still out there.

Instead of getting mad at me, she called for her husband and to bring the shotgun. I said: "Why would you do that? My friend is still out there, we just got scared. It wasn't real, right?" and she just ushered me behind her and locked the door that has multiple heavy locks as she peered out the window and said: "They're coming." Then shadows started to descent on the school.

3. The Professor and Lava Pit Dream

I don't exactly remember what happened that lead up to the moment, but I was in this room in my house (which was totally not my real house) and there was this dungeon room with a pool that was filled with lava instead. I was being held there by the Professor (the little blue puppet from Watcher's Puppet History), while my mom was held upstairs. We were kind of mutual leverage held apart from each other by tyrant the Professor (I also don't know why).

Anyways, I was trying to escape, communicating secretly with my mom and running around, which the Professor obviously heard, because he came downstairs to check on me. As an alibi that it wasn't me, I had cut off one of my legs and thrown it in the lava, so when he came to ask about the footsteps I said: "That couldn't have been me, I only have one leg" as I showed him. I was also like a nine year old little boy for some reason. He believed me and then turned around, which is when I killed him.

We kept his body in this glass case to assure ourselves he was really dead, but I couldn't let it go, so I slept outside in front of it, so I could keep an eye on him just in case. My mom was really happy to be freed and that I saved us, so she wanted to throw me a party, which was really sweet. She didn't want my imput because I had done more than enough, but she only invited people I vaguely knew or hadn't spoken to in years, so I wanted to cancel but then I'd have to call them and speak to them (honestly, only stressful part of the dream). I luckily woke up before the calls or the party could happen.

@one-time-i-dreamt as a dream expert, opinions? xp

#rrrambles #dreaming #dreams #dream #nightmare #poll #tumblr poll #tumblr polls #polls #the professor #watcher entertainment

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queen-of-writing-bad-things · 4 months

Text

Henry Danger Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 1

Episode 26: Jasper's Real Girlfriend

~Swellview Junior High~

It was another typical day at Henry's school. Sydney Birnbaum, Oliver Pook, Jasper and two other of the school's...more unusual boys were complaining about their girlfriends. Sydney was moaning and groaning about his was always annoyed at how he responded to texts late, which seemed petty, but everything was petty in high school. The other boys agreed, thinking that their girlfriends did nothing but give them a hard time, apart from Jasper who for once, was in a relationship. Not that anyone believed him.

"Well, my girlfriend is awesome." He told his friends, who just stared at him, believing that he was just trying to make himself look cool.

"What?" he asked after they fell silent.

"You ain't got no woman," Oliver said, making the other boys laugh at Jasper. Henry and Jasper watched the sad scene, feeling sorry for their friend. It wasn't his fault that he so rarely had a girlfriend that when he did have someone special, it seemed hilariously untrue.

"I do too, she just lives outta town." He told them, but they just scoffed.

"Psh. Yeah, right." Sydney laughed, and the other boys followed suit.

"Oh, sure, just exit laughing!" He called after them, as they moved on to their next class. Jerks.

"Hey."

"How you doing, Jasp?" Henry and Charlotte walked up to the downcast boy, hoping they could raise his spirits.

"I'm doing mad. Can you believe those guys think I'm lying about having a girlfriend?" He asked his friends, but honestly, they thought he was fibbing too.

"Yeahhhh." They answered together, trying not to upset him further.

"Wh--You guys don't believe me either?" He asked them with a betrayed look on his face.

"Well, we believe..." Henry started, not knowing how to phrase it.

"...That you're lying." Charlotte finished for him, preferring to just say what they meant without pussyfooting around.

"Yeah." Henry agreed, much to Jasper's annoyance.

"But I've been telling you guys about Courtney ever since I got back from summer camp." He told them and they sighed at how worked up he was getting.

"Jasper, you don't have to make things up to impress us." Charlotte comforted him, but Jasper felt like he didn't need to be comforted. He was telling the complete and honest truth!

"I'd never make up a lie just to impress you guys." He said, hating how they saw him as a pathetic, lying loser.

"Really? Third grade. You. pulled a bag of dirt out of your pocket and told me it came from Jupiter." Henry recalled his younger self who thought that the dirt was some mystical space dust.

"I thought it did. Back then I didn't know you can't trust guys in vans who sell space dirt." Jasper stressed. He was too little at the time to realise that dirt can't come from a planet that's made from gas and nothing else.

"Dude, you'll get a girlfriend someday," Henry told his best friend, whose head rolled in frustration.

"But if not, you can get a pet." Charlotte smiled, trying to encourage Jasper that in theory, he'd never be lonely, just a bit weird.

"You can get a rabbit for, like, 20 bucks," Henry informed them, to which Charlotte nodded enthusiastically.

"I don't need a rabbit! I got a girl and her name is Courtney, whether you believe it or not." Jasper emphasised his words, but his message still didn't get through.

"And what's Courtney's last name?" Henry asked, thinking that Jasper would look all shifty and nervous as he came up with an answer.

"Sham." The curly-haired boy replied, making his friends giggle. It was an unfortunate coincidence for him that his girlfriend's last name suggested that she was fake.

"And what city is she from?" Charlotte asked too.

"Fibberton." He answered, making Henry and Charlotte sigh and roll their eyes. With a name like that and being from a place called 'Fibberton', it's no wonder they wouldn't believe him.

"All right, why don't you invite Courtney Sham from Fibberton here to Swellview so we can all meet her," Henry suggested, thinking that you can't meet someone if they don't exist.

"Yeah. Tell her she can stay at my house." Charlotte told him, not realising that she'd be rueing her words in a couple of days.

"Maybe I will." Jasper snapped, wanting to prove them wrong.

"Bye!" He said to them, leaving them to think about how angry he was. Could he be telling the truth?

~The Man Cave, later that day~

It had been slightly tense in the Man Cave for the past couple of weeks. The whole Ray lying about Henry turning evil hadn't gone down well with (y/n) and she had felt a little awkward around him since it seemed like he didn't trust her. Still, they were working through their grievances and like always, any tear in their complex relationship had slowly healed up.

Everything was back to normal, well, whatever normal was in the Man Cave. Currently, Henry and Ray were trying to outmatch each other in a ping-pong tournament. (y/n) watched from the steps behind them, intrigued at how Ray's shirt allowed her to see every movement of muscles beneath the material, but she couldn't give a fig about the dumb competition.

"Here it comes!" Henry told his boss as they beat the small, white ball back and forth across the table.

"Bring it, son. Ha, you got nothing." Ray taunted him, trying to show off in front of his best friend so he could hear her adoring praises. After feeling like he was treading on eggshells around her for the past two weeks, he was eager to be in her good books again.

"What do you call this?" Henry asked as he swung his paddle with all his strength.

"Lame!" Ray jumped up to return the ball with equal force, not hearing the small gasp fall from (y/n)'s lips as she saw a small portion of his back be exposed as he lept in the air.

"Hey, guys, Harrison Ford just crash-landed his aeroplane in the Jandy River!" Schwoz yelled as he held his hand over the phone's speaker.

"Again?" Henry frowned, too invested in his ping gong game to care if the celeb had ditched his place in the river.

"Isn't this, like, his third plane crash?" Ray added, focusing on the game too. All (y/n) could focus on was the way his biceps looked like tree trunks from how he'd been working out recently.

Ray saw an opening and exploited it, beating Henry as the ball went out of bounds. The boy groaned, frustrated that he had been beaten after putting so much effort in.

"21 to 19! I win again!" Ray smiled and threw down his paddle in celebration as (y/n) squealed and ran over to him, planting a kiss on his cheek to congratulate him.

"Dang it, dang it! Frigid diphthong kumquat dang, dang it!" Henry yelled as Ray embrace his best friend, ignoring how his ears were burning from her lips on his skin.

"Good game." The boy calmly shook hands with his opponent after the man had released (y/n) from his arms.

"Thanks." Ray accepted the praise, feeling pretty special at how everyone was complimenting him.

"Now...let's blow a bubble and get Harrison Ford out of trouble." He instructed the boy, not wanting to leave the man in the freezing waters. Schwoz looked at them as he stayed on the phone, waiting to see if there'd be any updates.

"Can't we just send Chewbacca to fish him out?" (y/n) joked, not wanting him to go even though she'd never keep him from his job.

"No, silly girl!" Ray laughed, giving her one last hug before he went. For once, he didn't want to go either, but he had no choice, Swellview needed him and he had to go. He'd returned to her, always.

"Let's go." He said to Henry, having missed the knowing look the kid had shared with Schwoz.

They ran over to the tubes and slapped their belts so they would come down. Only, as Henry's came down in was covered in some kind of gross, gooey gunge stuff.

"What the..." (y/n) breathed out as she gagged at how filthy the tube was. She had several questions, namely who had done and why hadn't they cleaned it up.

"What is all over your tube?" Ray looked at the filth, feeling a bit squeamish at the sight of it. They raised their tubes as (y/n) walked over to them, demanding an answer. She was scary when it came to someone leaving a big mess in the Man Cave, particularly when they didn't clean up after themselves.

"Okay." Henry sighed when she looked at the boy with raised eyebrows. She couldn't think of when Ray could have done it since they had been together since the last time that tube had been used, leaving only Henry and Schwoz as possible suspects. The little man was on the phone looked extremely panicked as Henry started his confession, hinting that he'd had something to do with it.

"Yesterday, Schwoz told me to go up the tube with a hot nacho platter and the suckage made the cheese and refried beans go everywhere," Henry explained guilty, his strong moral conscience not allowing him to lie to his friends.

"Schwoz?" Ray scolded his employee when (y/n) looked at him to tell the little man off since he was his boss.

"My sister is in town and she wanted a taste of Mexico." He whined, but (y/n) wasn't happy, not in the slightest.

"Well, both of you are gonna clean that damn tube." She told the with a stern voice. She wanted to get it done herself, but she wasn't going to fall into the habit of cleaning up all the messes they couldn't be bothered to do themselves.

"Oh, come on." Schwoz frowned like a child.

"The tube is, like 100 feet tall," Henry added, looking to Ray for help but he wouldn't find any. The man didn't want her cleaning the nacho goop either, she was his helper, she helped him, not them.

"Well, you should've thought of that before you tried to fly up it with a hot sloppy snack," Ray told them firmly, but Schwoz received more info from the person on the phone, so his attention was quickly taken away.

"Wait, wait, what? Okay, Harrison Ford's aeroplane just sank." He told the superheroes who sighed. More work.

"You guys should go save him." (y/n) told them, but they looked a bit hesitant.

"We will...after one more quick game?" Henry looked at his boss as the young woman blanched at his words.

"We can't ju--my serve." Ray threw his sense of duty out of the window as he and Henry ran to pick up their paddles again. The same tapping of the ball against the table filled the room again as they resumed play, Schwoz and (y/n) gobsmacked at them.

"Oi, assholes. Harrison Ford, danger, go!" (y/n) pointed to the tubes. They could take one tube or if necessary, they could use the elevator and sneak out of the store. Either way, they had to go help the city.

"Yeah, yeah, in a bit, sweetheart," Ray mumbled back, his mind too focused on the game to realise what he had called her so casually or how she stopped breathing as she practically had an out-of-body experience. Sweetheart? Yes, please.

~Swellview Junior High, the next day~

Henry stood by his locker as Charlotte wandered through the halls, looking for her friend.

"Hey. How can come Jasper wasn't in class last period?" She asked the blond boy, curious as to why her other friend had been absent.

"I don't know. He asked Miss Shapen if he could skip class, and she said, "Yeah, sure, just leave me like every man does."" Henry quoted, but his attention was redirected as Jasper and a very pretty girl with a suitcase came through the school's entrance.

"Wow. Cool school." The girl said as Jasper showed her around.

"Thanks. Oh, Charlotte, Henry. I didn't expect to see you two here." The curly-haired boy gloated at his friends, ready to rub the fact he wasn't lying in their faces.

"Why? We go to school here every day." Charlotte frowned at him.

"And this is where our lockers are," Henry added, but Jasper swiftly moved on.

"Ha, ha, too true. Too true." Jasper stretched his arm around the girl next to him, making his friends frown at the gesture.

"So, I'd like you to meet my girl, Courtney." He introduced his girlfriend, who smiled brightly.

"Hi. It's so great to meet you guys. Jasper's told me so much about you." She greeted them politely, giggling at how their mouths dropped.

"Oka, did he find you at a bus stop?" Charlotte asked, feeling flabbergasted.

"And did he pay you 50 cents to come here and pretend to be his girlfriend?" Henry added, offending his best friend with the low price.

"50 cents? Look at her." Jasper gestured to Courtney, who just grinned and blushed.

"He's your boyfriend?" Charlotte asked her, still in disbelief.

"Well, I sure hope so. I just rode a bus 300 miles from Fibberton to see him." The pretty girl sighed dreamily, as Jasper smirked with pride.

"I paid 20% of her bus ticket." He bragged.

"How come this is the first time she's been to Swellview?" Henry asked the boy.

"'Cause, I don't have a guest room in my house. So when Charlotte said she could stay at her place, I invited her to come here." Jasper revealed as Charlotte's eyes bugged out at his words. Yep, she regretted saying that.

"But, I didn't know she was real." She stammered.

"Well, she is. Wanna feel her face?" The boy asked, putting his hands on his girlfriend's elbows and pushing her towards Charlotte a bit, but neither girl wanted to do the suggestion.

"I guess I'll call my mom and let her know you're coming over." Charlotte smiled at the other girl, who was about to be her roommate for the night couple of nights.

"Great."

"Super." The couple giggled together as Charlotte went to call her mom.

"Hey, wait here. I'mma go get the guys and bring them here to show them that you really exist!" Jasper squealed excitedly, running off early so he could prove Oliver and Sydney wrong.

"Wow, you seem awesome. Jasper's a lucky guy." Henry smiled at Courtney, trying to break the ice.

"Thanks. He says really nice things about you and Charlotte." The girl smiled back.

"Well, Jasper's been my best friend for a long time and he loves Charlotte." He told her, but his words seemed to upset Courtney.

"Yeah, what do you mean?" She asked with a scowl now etched onto her pretty features.

"Huh?" Henry couldn't think of what he had said wrong.

"You said Jasper loves Charlotte." She reiterated, a sting of raging jealously going through her heart.

"Yeah, you know, they like...oh, no, no, no, wait, wait. I didn't mean like he loves her." Henry panicked as Courtney went into a meltdown.

"Are there any other girls around here that Jasper is in love with?" she screeched, freaking out at the thought of Jasper with another girl.

"No, no, no. Just Charlotte." Henry tried to correct himself, but it just made things worse.

"Oh great, so he is in love with her." Courtney growled, a deep hatred for Charlotte taking root in her mind.

" No, they just, they're just really close and it's like--" The boy stuttered, but the teen girl was too lost in her jealousy.

" Oh my god! " She shouted as Charlotte returned, not knowing about the shit show she just walked

"Hi. So, I talked to my mom and she said it's no problem." She smiled, but it quickly fell when all Courtney did was scowl at her. The dark-haired girl looked at Henry for help, but he just held his hands to his face, thinking about how he'd really screwed everything. Well, tonight was going to be a blast.

~The next day, at Junk-N-Stuff~

Ray and Henry were continuing their ping pong tournament and it was just as heated as it had been before.

"You're going down! " Henry growled as an enthralled (y/n) watched their every movement. Ray was wearing another tight T-shirt and she couldn't take her eyes off of him.

"I'm coming up."Ray quipped, as he tried to keep his focus on the game and not on his beautiful cheerleader.

"Here it comes !" Henry yelled as he basked the ball with his ping pong paddle.

"It's coming back! " Ray was desperate to win, after all, he had someone to impress.

"I'm the king of Ping. "Henry commented, as their banter went back and forth with the ball.

"I'm the master of pong! " Ray replied as the elevator doors opened and Schwoz came out with a trumpet. He blew it loudly, resulting in Henry and (y/n) jumping out of their skins. Ray, on the other hand, had planned the attack so he could scare Henry into losing. He laughed and smirked in victory when the ball hit the floor as his friends, clutched their hearts in fear.

"And I win again!" He bragged to her, who frowned at how his boss had cheated.

"No!" Henry cried, annoyed at how he'd lost to that sucker again.

"Yes!" Ray smiled, but it fell when (y|n) punched him on the arm.

"Asshole! You scared me half to death!" She glared at both him and Schwoz. He gave her an apologetic look, not wanting to ruin his victory by losing his girl's support.

"And that means I win the ping pong championship belt." Ray gloated and held up what looked like a WWE belt, only it had a load of ping pong balls stuck to it. Henry whimpered as (y/n) begrudgingly helped him put in on.

"Hoo, hoo, hoo! " Ray chanted as he paraded around the Man cave, but Henry wasn't going to let the hollow victory slide.

"Schwoz distracted me... And scared (y/n)!" The boy pointed out, making Ray turn around and look at the kid and his best friend.

"Hey. (Y/n)'s fine. And ping pong's about three things, paddles, staying focused, and small plastic balls." Ray told his sidekick.

"Oh yeah, mid-afternoon cardio is my favourite thing." The young woman looked at her best friend sarcastically, so he put an arm around her shoulder and showed her his new belt.

"Why'd you walk in here and blow that thing?" Henry asked Schwoz, who tried to look innocent.

"I found it in a dumpster." He told the kid, causing his friends to grimace as a tube came down, and much to (y/n) 's annoyance, it was still covered in nacho cheese.

"Why haven't you two cleaned that damn tube yet?!" She yelled, looking at the pipe in disgust. Poor Charlotte had to travel through the gunk which had now started to crust over and smelt really, really bad.

"Hello." "Hey, Char." Henry and Schwoz greeted the miserable girl. She'd had a terrible night with Courtney and she was certain that the girl was trying to kill her. The others looked at her in confusion as she moodily plodded past them.

"Charlotte, sweetie, are you all right?" (y/n) asked the teen carefully when she noticed how out of it she was.

"No, thanks. I just ate a taco," she replied, not even listening to what she had been asked. She wandered over to the supercomputer and sat down, completely ignoring her friend's concern.

"What's up with her?" Henry said to the adults, but they couldn't give an answer. This was completely unlike the girl's normal behaviour.

"Worry about her later. Right now, you and Schwoz are gonna clean that tube." Ray scolded Henry and Schwoz, sharing his best friend's anger at how his equipment was still disgustingly dirty.

"Or...I challenge you."Henry suggested, making (y/n) groan in frustration. At this rate, she'd be the one cleaning it just so she didn't go insane.

"To what? "Ray asked, always up for some competition to prove he was the best.

"To another game of Ping pong." The boy answered, piquing Ray's interest. (Y/n) sorely didn't want them to battle it out just to decide who would clean the stupid tube.

"If l lose, me and Schwoz clean the tube. If you lose, you and (y/n) have to clean it." The boy set down the rules.

"While wearing ducky pyjamas." Ray upped the ante, confident that he and the young woman next to him would be fine.

"Why am I getting dragged into this? This is your testosterone freak fest." she groaned, not wanting to bet on something so stupid.

'It's a bet." Henry shook Ray's hand in agreement, sealing the deal. Schwoz and (y/n) groaned as they were sworn in too, despite their protests.

Charlotte was too busy scrolling through Courtney's Twitflash to realise that any bet had been made. She wanted to find out more about this girl since she had done nothing but try to assassinate her during the night by using her ceiling fan as a weapon.

"Hey, Char." Henry approached her, wondering what she was doing that was so important it meant that she hadn't spoken one word to him since she'd arrived.

"Charlotte." He reiterated when she failed to answer. He tapped her on the shoulder gently, causing her to turn around angrily.

"WHAT?! What's what, what?!" She snapped, scaring Henry a little.

"Why are you looking at pics of Jasper's girlfriend?" He asked, recognising the girl on the monitor.

"Because she's trying to kill me." She revealed, sounding insane to Henry.

"What?"

"Last night. I think she loosened some bolts in my ceiling fan. Because it fell and almost took my head off." She told her friend her theory, but Henry just looked at her like she'd gone crazy.

"Why would Courtney want to hurt you?" The boy sighed.

"I don't know. But she's acting all jealous, why would she be jealous of me? " Charlotte mentioned, making everything fall into place for him. Oh, shit.

"Uh..." Henry struggled to say anything, which made the other teen highly suspicious.

"What do you mean...uh?" She asked.

"Y'see, at school, I might have kind of made Courtney think that Jasper kind of...loves you." He told her, freaking the girl out.

"Well, why would you say that?" Charlotte snapped at him, thinking about how he'd really screwed her over.

"Because he does love you. As a friend. But she didn't get that." He sighed. What a mess.

"Yeah, all she got was a reason to kill me." The girl stressed.

"Well, what do you want me to do?" Henry asked, ready to sort out the mess he had made.

"Help me tell Jasper that his girlfriend is a crazy, jealous lunatic." Charlotte proposed, but the boy wasn't sure.

"He'll never believe us." He replied so the two teens thought about their predicament for a moment.

"Okay, then we're gonna tell him, and we're gonna show him." She smirked, her devious plan forming in her head.

"How?"

"You and Jasper are going to hide in my room tonight, and he'll see for himself now coo-coo his girlfriend is." The dark-haired girl explained.

"Ah, I don't know." Henry hesitated. Did he really want to take away the first girlfriend Jasper had had in ages?

"Please?" Charlotte begged him, knowing she'd need his help to pull this off.

"Do you still keep that dish of gummy bears by your closet door?" Henry wanted there to be something in it for him.

"Yeah," she groaned; she'd have to buy another packet after Henry had visited.

"Okay, I'll do it "Henry agreed, the temptation of gummy bears being too much for him to resist. Their plotting was halted as (y/n) came down the stairs from the sprocket. She had grown tired of watching Ray stroke and coo at his belt, so she had strolled from his bedroom to the living area.

"Hey, guys." She smiled at the kids, wondering what they were talking about in the middle of the room.

"Hey, Ray starting to annoy ya?" Henry asked, knowing now Ray was loving flaunting his ping pong belt.

"Oh my god, yes. He keeps kissing the damn thing." She groaned, making the kids laugh.

"What? You want him to kiss you instead?" Charlotte smirked and the woman blushed, frantically looking to see if Ray had followed and heard them. God, she'd be mortified.

"Hey! I don't want to kiss him!" (y/n) screeched quickly, but the kids knew her far too well to believe her.

"Yeah, sure!" Henry giggled at her red face, knowing that some of the things she had thought about Ray were downright sinful.

"What were you guys even talking about?" the young woman asked, trying to steer the conversation away from her yearning.

"Me and Henry are gonna show Jasper how much of a psycho his girlfriend is. Charlotte explained and the older girl raised an eyebrow at her words.

"The bucket kid has a girlfriend?" She asked in an amused voice.

"Yeah, and she's totally insane, she tried to kill me last night 'cause she thinks Jasper's in love with me," Charlotte told her, shocking (y/n) to her core. Kids weren't this crazy when she was younger.

"Jesus. She does sound crazy. Are you sure you'll be okay?" She looked at the teens. If anything happened to them because some silly teenage girl got too jealous for her own good, she'd be heartbroken.

"Actually, we could use an adult on our side to back us up," Henry mentioned, knowing he'd feel a lot safer if he had a calm, rational adult, like (y/n), with them.

"Yeah, could you come to my house tonight and hide with Jasper and Henry?" Charlotte asked her, but the woman wasn't sure. She didn't make a habit of staking out children's bedrooms.

"You won't have to listen to Ray and watch his belt-kissing." Henry pointed out.

"Done." She agreed. At least it would get her out of the Man Cave for the night, after all, adventure is good for the soul.

~ Later that night, Charlotte's house~

Charlotte and Courtney had gone to bed like everything was normal, only it wasn't since she was sleeping with a baseball bat and Henry and (y/n) were hiding in her closet. Pecking out from behind the door, the two could see Charlotte pretending to be asleep as Jasper opened the trunk at the bottom of her bed and looked around. They all gave each other a thumbs up signalling that they were all in position for whatever Courtney would do.

Henry went to flick the light on, but the psycho teen moved and mumbled in her sleep, causing him to back off. The girl got out of bed, which made Charlotte shoot up too.

"Hi, how are you? Why did you get out of bed?" She asked quickly, thinking that Courtney was about to murder her or something.

"Oh, I just need to use the bathroom." She said, getting up and walking over to the ensuite.

"Wait." Charlotte stopped her and got out of bed too.

"Yeah?" the other girl smiled.

"Listen. I know Henry told you that Jasper loves me." Charlotte started as (y/n) carefully opened the closet door so she and Henry could listen.

"Oh, well, yeah. He did." Courtney said carefully. Seeing his chance, Henry started shoving as many gummy bears in his mouth as possible.

"Right. But I want you to understand he meant just as friends." Charlotte told her, running over to her gummy bear bowl so Henry would stop eating them.

"I promise I'm not trying to take Jasper away from you or anything like that," she added, jumping on her trunk so Jasper would stop opening it.

"Oh. Well, thanks. I really appreciate you telling me." Courtney smiled, but it had a sinister element to it. The girl opened the bathroom door and walked inside, but the weird thing was that she took her suitcase with her.

Finally, alone, the guys in the trunk and closet came out of their hiding places.

"See? She's not insane. You both owe me an apology." Jasper told his friends sternly as Henry and (y/n) ate some gummy bears.

"No, she may be acting nice now, but I'm telling you she needs help. That's why (y/n) is here." Charlotte insisted.

"I think she seems pretty nice," Henry said, his voice garbled from all the gummy bears he had eaten.

"Yeah, I've met a lot of bitches in my life and she's not one of them." (y/n) added, popping another piece of squishy candy into her mouth.

"Then explain the ceiling fan almost falling on here," Charlotte said, pointing to where the fan had previously hung.

"Aah!!!" No one had any time to respond as Courtney burst out of the bathroom, wearing a Vikings helmet and carrying a chainsaw crusher thing.

"STAY AWAY FROM MY MAN!!!" She screamed, firing up her weapon as (y/n) pushed Henry further into the closet. They all cried in pure terror as Courtney tried to attack them.

"Holy shit! She is crazy!" The woman screamed as Henry and she ran out of the closet. They didn't want to trap themselves in there if crazy Courtney forced her way in.

Tackling her to the ground, Henry gave (y/n) the chance to keep Charlotte and Jasper away from the psychopath. The dark-haired girl grabbed her baseball bat as Courtney got back of her feet and tried to turn him into mincemeat. They ran over Charlotte's bed and dodged her lethal machine. They threw pillows, lotions, deodorants, anything that would keep her back, but it seemed like her rage was endless.

"Get the silver pillow cushion seat thing!" (y/n) instructed Henry. This wasn't now she had expected the night to go. She could've been at home with pay right now, but, noo000. She had volunteered to go up against Fibberton's biggest nutter.

Following the woman's instructions, Henry picked up the shiny cushion and when Courtney charged at him, he used it to push her back, forcing her through the window.

"I'll get you for that! I'll get you!" She screamed from outside, demonstrating that she really was insane.

"Okay, maybe she needs help," Jasper admitted as the only adult in the room called the cops. Henry and Charlotte rolled their eyes and blew out their cheeks. That was a massive understatement; Courtney needed serious, psychiatric care, stat.

~The next day, in the Man Cave~

Another stupid ping pong competition. Henry needed a stress reliever after the whole Courtney-near-death experience. He really didn't want to clean that damn tube and finally beating Ray sounded pretty good in his mind. The smug man was even wearing the ping pong belt to assert his previous victory.

The males were pulling out every trick they had, from spins to under the leg shots, they were sparing no expense. (y/n) was watching like always, her support going to Ray since if he lost it meant she was cleaning the foul-smelling tube and she loved watching him move. She felt like a teenager again; obsessing over a football player on the field, silently giving him her love.

Eventually, they hit it so hard that the ball became a white blur in the air, not even touching the table. They shouted from the effort it took it to keep the ball in the air, but Ray was ultimately victorious, using his superior strength to hit the ball into Henry's eye.

"Whoo!" Ray smirked, tossing his paddle in his hand as (y/n) ran over to him and jumped on him in elation. He laughed with her as they span around, ecstatic to have won the bet. He buried his nose into her hair as her smile warmed his heart. He had won for her.

"Ha, ha, yeah. That's 17 to 20. One more point and I win." Ray said, his hand resting on (y/n)'s hip, which at this point, was where it belonged.

"I know how ping pong scoring works." Henry hissed, not happy at how badly he was losing.

"Your serve," Ray told him, letting the kid go first.

"Wait, wait, wait." (y/n) interrupted an idea coming into her mind.

"What?" Henry and Ray asked, confused as to why she was stopping the play.

"Can I play this round? I mean, we are a team, right?" She asked Ray, who looked at her in disbelief. She wanted to play?

"What? But you never play ping pong, even with me." He said to her as Henry shrugged. He didn't care who he played, to be honest.

"Yeah, and now I want to play since I'm cleaning the tube too. So give me the paddle." She gave him a pointed look and he regretfully gave her the ping pong bat. Looks like he'd be the one watching from the sidelines. Slipping off her zip-up hoodie, (y/n) stretched her arms and hips a little bit, Ray blushing as her black tank top stretched over her...features. Now, he'd be in her position, dreaming sinfully about the way her flesh jiggled and bounced as she dived for the ball.

"Your serve, Henry." She reiterated what Ray had said to the boy, getting her gaming head on. All her skill from her years of playing ping pong in college was ready and waiting to be used. However, Henry just stood there and bounced the ball in a bored manner. What was his plan?

"Are you stalling?" Ray asked the boy who just looked around the Man Cave, ignoring how (y/n) was studied his every move. Her muscles were poised and tensed for action and she was expecting a surprise move any minute now.

"No. It's just Schwoz is supposed to be here and he's late, so..." Henry excused, trying to prolong the wait.

"Kid, it's game point. Just serve." (y/n) told him, eager to get cracking.

"Lose, and get to scrubbing the filthy tube," Ray added, also desperate for the match to start so he could see his girl kick his ass. But, they were interrupted by Schwoz as he came into the room with a large, weird-looking man.

"Hey guys, Ray, this is Larry." He introduced the guy, as Ray stood up angrily.

"What are you crazy?" He looked at the genius with wide eyes.

"You can't just bring people down to the Man Cave." (y/n) said too, thinking that Schwoz should've known the rules by now since he had worked with Ray for longer than she had.

"Larry is family, you said I could bring anyone in my family down here except for my sister." Schwoz reminded him.

"Who looks like a horse," (y/n) giggled, making the little man roll his eyes.

"Oh, all right. But (y/n)'s just about to beat Henry at ping pong so if you guys—" The superhero was cut off as Henry smiled at Larry.

"Just a sec. Larry, right there." Henry instructed the man, who walked over to the tube and took his shirt off, which he then threw to Schwoz.

"Uh, I'm flattered but he's not my type?" (y/n) joked, wondering what the hell they were doing. Larry definitely wasn't her type, namely because he wasn't a brown-haired, ripped superhero with a goofy personality.

"You said that ping pong is all about staying focused," Henry said to Ray, who recalled what he had said the day before.

"Yeah, but what's the—" Ray didn't have the chance to finished his sentence as Henry used his remote control to play some music. Larry started dancing and it was pretty funny, to say the least. 'So that's their play, huh.' (y/n) thought to herself, knowing that it would take more than a boogieing weirdo to break her focus.

"Just hit the damn ball." She said to Henry, who at last served the ball. She returned it easily, and they fell into a tense battle. Larry danced his heart out, but it distracted Ray more than it distracted her. She really should've told him to be quiet, because his cute laughter caused her to miss the ball. Twice.

"Raymond, will you stop laughing?" She hissed at him as he giggled at the man's dancing. Henry and Schwoz knew that Ray wouldn't have been able to ignore a fat guy dancing and they knew that (y/n) wouldn't have been blue to ignore him being adorable. It was a very sneaky plan.

"Aha! 19-20!" Henry and Schwoz celebrated, as (y/n) gulped. It was all to play, for now, no room for error. Larry grabbed a lime-green bikini top to up the ante, making Ray chuckle again. He even had a skipping rope to add to the laugh factor, which took (y/n)'s anxiety to the next level. Things were getting tense, Henry only needed a couple more points to win.

"Seriously, please stop laughing or I will kill you." She made Ray look her in the eye, her glowing skin stealing his breath away. He nodded dumbly, her radiant beauty making his tongue useless.

"Okay, let's do this thing." She nodded at Henry, desperate to win the competition, not because she'd have to scrub the tube if she didn't, (she didn't care about that), she just wanted to make him proud.

After another intense round, with Henry scoring yet another two points, making to score 21- 20, everyone was on edge. Larry had a siren on his head and a space hopper in an attempt to make Ray laugh, but the man was biting down on his thumb to keep in his giggles. He chose to focus on her hips instead, loving the way her feminine curves moved and bounced as she dived for the ball.

"Henry, one more point and we won't have to wear the pyjamas," Schwoz told the boy excitedly. Larry decided to move on to the next stage of his plan, so he brought out a King Charles cavalier spaniel and started to eat spaghetti and meatballs with it, like in Lady and the Tramp. Okay, this was getting ridiculous.

"Okay, okay, that's it, I'll clean the damn tube. Stop feeding the dog." She snapped, slamming her paddle on the table. It was just easier for her to get on with it, rather than carry on this bloody charade.

"You forfeit?" Henry gasped at her, not believing that she'd give up so easily. Didn't she want to flaunt her assets at Ray anymore?

"(y/n/n), we're so close," Ray whined, as she walked past him so she could change into the stupid duck pyjamas.

"I know, but I can smell that thing from here and this is just...dumb! I'll clean it, you play the game. Loser cleans with me." She sighed, failure stung like a bitch.

She left them to finish the game, quickly returning when she had put on her PJ's. In all honesty, she often cleaned in pyjamas since she always got in a cleaning groove late at night when Captain Man was out fighting criminals. And they were pretty cute in her opinion, so she didn't mind too much.

She walked down from the sprocket only to see Henry dancing around the room with Ray's belt. Oh shit, they won. Ray looked dumbfounded that he'd lost to a kid. Now he had to spend his night chiselling cheese off the tube.

"Let me guess? The dog got to you?" She gave Ray a sympathetic smile and he groaned in sadness. He hated losing, but at least he wouldn't have to scrub the tube alone. She patted his arm and he shuffled off to put his red duck pyjamas on. Schwoz, Larry and Henry laughed at his disappointed face, but little did they know that their victory came with a bonus for Ray...

~15 minutes later~

"You're doing great. Keep scrubbing that tube, guys!" Henry called to the friends who were now both in the tube. Whilst the three winners got to munch on Chinese takeout, Ray and (y/n) had to chip the hardened cheese off of the strong glass. It sounded like a pretty crappy job, but it did come with a small perk.

The confined space in the pipe meant they were pressed up against each other, and boy, were they secretly loving it. He felt like a giant behind her, his muscly arms wrapping around her so he could wipe the wall. Not to mention the fact that the thin pyjamas meant that every contour of his body was pressing into her from head to toe, and I mean, every contour. She blushed as she cleaned, trying to ignore his breath on her neck, his muscles rippling against her skin, his lower half pressing into her from behind. It was an overload of sensations for her, but she didn't want it to stop.

Ray was the same. His head was spinning from how small she felt next to him. He was her protector, so why did she feel like prey? He wanted to claim her, to mark her in a way that would tell other men she was his and only his, but he daren't, even when the curve of her neck was exposed to his lips. He just basked in her presence, glad that he could just take a moment to appreciate the way she pressed into him in a sinfully delicious way. God, this was torturous, but he liked it.

"Keep it up, guys!" Schwoz yelled as they kept scrubbing, his noodles and spring rolls distracting him and the others from the steamy moment in the tube. They weren't in a hurry. They had all the time in the world to savour their love, which was growing stronger by the day, giving them the strength to keep going like always. Ray Manchester and (y/n) (y/l/n) against the world.

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origami-is-life · 5 months

Note

DREAM SEQUENCE PART TWO ELECTRIC BOOGALOO THE SECOND PART

Sorry for the cliffhanger, also you finally get an actual description and name for her old teammates.

Sitting before our beleaguered heroine are four magical girls she knows quite well. They’re seated in a circle, the same way they’ve always done.

“It’s been a while.”

The first speaks up. She’s wearing what looks like a slightly fancier school uniform, but the soul gem on her bow and the odd spider motifs betrays this as her magical girl outfit. Her hair is short, straight, and deep blue. She quietly examines Kitsune through a pair of glasses. This is Patricia, the Class Representative Witch.

”I-I hope you’re doing well!”

The second nervously fidgets with her gloves, not sure how to interact with what has become of her old adoptive sister. Her verdant hair cascades over one eye, adorned with red roses. Her outfit, which looks like a combat adaptation of a masquerade ball outfit, is covered in rose motifing, even her skirt replicates the look of a swirl of petals. A familiar sits on her shoulder. This is Gertrud, the Rose Witch.

“You took forever!”

The third girl beams excitedly. Her outfit is flashy and old fashioned, looking like a proper princess gown, it’s a wonder that she can fight in it. Her color scheme is soft, deep blues and whites. Her hair is white, and partially tied up. A veil falls over her back. This is Walpurgisnacht, the Witch whose nature is Helplessness.

“Hiya again!”

The fourth girl waves. Her hair is black and tied into twin-tails by red ribbons. Her outfit is a more classic magical girl outfit, colored in white and bright aquamarine, accented with lights. She looks a bit like Miku, to be honest. This is Kirsten, the Box Witch.

“H-how are you here?!”

“MAGIC.”

“We cannot stay for long...”

“The mortal plane is not one we should visit more than we need to.”

“Dream sequences, however, are generally allowed!”

“…Why didn’t you come sooner?”

“…We all know the answer to that: you would have lost it. Besides, the only time you’ve slept since we died was you being out-cold unconscious after getting shot.”

Kitsune does not reply to that, staring at her hands. She knows quite well what kind of damage she was willing to do to herself and others just to see them one more time, just to have them by her side again. She would’ve torn herself apart trying to get back to them-

Gertrud smiles warmly, placing a hand on Kit’s shoulder.

“But no need to worry, that time has passed.”

“Yeah! I missed you!” “Guys, we have a mission, now is not the time for antics.”

“Awwww-“

“…We are here to deliver a message, and then we must leave you.”

Kit’s eyes fill with tears of panic, but Kirsten speaks before she can.

“You fulfilled your wish.”

“…How?! I couldn’t save you, I-“

“I can’t speak for the others, but you were one of the best friends I had in life.”

“I second that! You’re fun, and dramatic, and you always make even boring stuff a good time.”

“You work so freaking hard to make everybody happy and okay, Kit, give yourself some credit for once! I didn’t sacrifice myself just to watch my teammate throw the life I gave her away!”

“This team made me feel loved when nobody else did. And we wouldn’t be a team without you, Kit.”

“Awww, guys…”

“…But the past is past, and you’ve done all you can. Origami’s right.”

“You may lose flowers to frost, but new ones will grow in spring.”

“I dunno what that means but YEAH!”

“Stop rewatching Act 1 and get on with the next scene already!”

“It hurts more seeing you try to get us back, trust me…”

“Move on.”

“I tried so hard, I’ve lost so much for this…”

“You’ll just lose more, you can’t outfox death. Cherish what you have, the team you have, the world you have...”

“Besides, you’ll see us again someday! But now’s not the time for you to die, not yet!”

“Mada Dame Yo*.”

Kit stares down at her hands, lost in thought for a moment. …Maybe she’d be less miserable if she listened to her friends, maybe the world’s better with her in it…

“…I can try. I-I’ll try my absolute hardest.”

��You’re gonna do great! You and Origami and Hammer and everybody! WHOO!!”

“Now, get some rest. It’s time for us to go.”

They hug her before standing up, smiling warmly at their friend. At their sister. …And then they’re gone…

…But Kit doesn’t wake up, her dream doesn’t have to end just because they left it. She stares from her vantage point at the risen sun, at the city skyline, smiling, tears dripping down her cheeks.

“…I wish…I wish my teammates could be here with me to see this, heh…”

*translation: “it’s not time yet”. This is also a song from Madoka Magica lol

[mod magic to give ori that sense of peace for a moment, excuse me a sec]

*origami pauses in her search, feeling a strange sense of peace wash over her. like all her problems have been resolved somehow. she suddenly pictures herself standing beside kit, watching the sun rise over a gorgeous city. she blinks, and the image is gone. the peace takes longer to fade, but she cant seems to get rid of the smile on her face. she has no idea what just happened, but she feels as though its a good thing. she continues her search, a little bit of some pep in her step once again.*

[ELSIE THIS IS SO SOFT AND BEAUTIFUL AND SWEET AND JHJBWCHBWKCHBWKDCBHWVHW]

[I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH OH MY GOD]

[KIT GETS PEACE OF MIND LETS GO]

#tadc anon #[mod lily]

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kirisaki-daichi-scenarios · 1 year

Text

aftermath of manager betraying the boys p4

part 1 here, 2 here, 3 here

It’s Friday. She’s about to leave home for her afternoon shift at the bookshop, slipping her shoes on just as the door swings open.

“Honey, I’m home!” Her husband of one year tosses his rucksack to the side, and wraps his arms around her waist, “have a nice day at work, yeah?”

Leaning into his embrace, she turns her head to kiss his cheek, “you need to stop acting like you’re in a sitcom.”

Then, quietly, knowing how much he hates the topic, she adds, “how was the physio?”

“Fine.”

One final kiss to her forehead and he walks away with the limp he’s had ever since Yamazaki’s foot made contact with his spine. He can’t play judo anymore. He sees a physio once a week, and yet there’s been barely any progress since the appointments began. He was a man whose motto was “push through the pain”, but you can’t push through chronic pain. A man who lived for judo, and now all he lives for is his pain meds in the morning.

(And she never snitched. Gentleman than he is, he didn’t push her, but he wanted her to. He said that if they told on Hanamiya and his gang, they’d be expelled and she wouldn’t have to worry anymore.

“Look at what happened when you told the headmaster about their behaviour on the court,” he had said.

But she was looking at it. She is still looking at it, remembers it every day, every time she looks at him and his limp. And so, she had sworn to break up with him if he ever dared to snitch.

God she’s vicious. Undeserving. Hanamiya was right.

——

Excluding a group of children who screamed her ears off over a new instalment of some shoujo manga, her shift passes without a hitch. Outside, it’s dark and dreary. Drizzle batters the windows. But the shop itself is cosy, more so when you’re at the counter in a thick jumper. With one hand, she’s updating the shop’s blog on next week’s offers. With the other, she’s bringing her thermos of hot chocolate to her lips. It’s a lovely evening, with no customers to bother her. And, in just one hour, she’ll be on her way home, and Friday’s are movie nights.

“Excuse me, ma’am, could you direct me to the crime section?”

She hadn’t heard anyone enter. She flinches at the sound of a voice.

“Yes, it’s just on-“ she looks up. Pauses.

It’s not fear, it’s not dread that flits across her face: it’s horror.

How ironic. This was all because she snitched on them, but Seto must have told them where she worked.

—

In their first year of high school, she and Seto sat together in almost all their classes. Any group projects, they did together. Lunches, they spent together. His being there was the main reason she’d agreed to being the team’s manager. And, until the very end, when she was walking to the headmaster’s office with that damning USB in her skirt pocket, she’d still been thinking that Seto was a good guy. Yes, he’d ignored the hostility the team spewed - but that made him guilty of apathy, not cruelty, right?

It took hearing him laugh as he watched the others beat her boyfriend up for her to realise that he was just like the rest of them: entertained by violence.

Why she’d thought he’d keep his promise - when she asked him not to tell anyone where she worked - even she didn’t know.

—

“Ma’am, you still there?”

Hanamiya leans over the desk, and grins at her. It’s been six years since they last saw each other. He’s a little taller now, dressed far more formally than he used to be (black suit, sleeves cuffed, and a long black coat like the Grim Reapear), and his tone is formal though relaxed - but that big Hanamiya grin hasn’t changed.

There’s no one else in the shop. Yet, even if there was, this situation would always feel like Her-and-Hanamiya.

“The crime section, yes,” she shoves her hand below the desk so he can’t see them shaking, “take the stairs over there. The crime section will be on the other end of the basement.”

“You know, my eyesight’s not great. How about-“

“Fuck off.”

The grin slips off his lips.

He straightens his back, looks around - looks at each and every CCTV camera on the floor - then turns back to her.

“What would your boss think, if he knew you were a) speaking so rudely to a customer and b) refusing to support a customer with an eye disease. I have glaucoma, don’t you know?”

He’s a cunt. He’s a lying fucking cunt. He’s a disgusting piece of shit, whom her mother adored. She insisted that Hanamiya was a good sort, based on how kindly he helped her around the house when the team would stay the night. She with her glaucoma, that she fought with so valiantly until she died of a heart attack. Hanamiya knows she’s dead. The whole team attended the funeral with their beloved manager, letting her cry on their shoulders, holding her hand, offering her tissues. Hara even completed her memorial speech for her when she couldn’t.

And Hanamiya also would tell her boss about her behaviour. He’d tell the tale in such a way there’d be no arguing with him; her boss would fall in love him with, and she’d be unemployed by the end of the day.

For someone who warned her what happens to snitches, with her now husband’s blood across his palms, he sure is comfortable with being a snitch himself.

So she gets up slowly, holding onto her chair as tight as she can, so her fist doesn’t make contact with Hanamiya’s mouth. Steps away from the desk. And, keeping her eyes fixed in front of her, committed to ignoring him, walks towards the stairs with Hanamiya in tow.

“We should hang out sometime,” natters on Hanamiya, “reminisce the good old days. How’s that bloke of yours? Are you still with him after we… redecorated his ugly mug? Not that there was much to like originally. You were just desperate.”

“Don’t talk about him like that,” she snaps. she’s fair game, but her lover is the only good thing in this world, the only sun shining.

Hanamiya continues. “If you were so desperate for some male attention, we could have pimped you out to someone. There was no need to cause such a fuss just to get some judo moron to sleep with you. Does he even sleep with you? Back in the day, it was the male students who got along best with him, wasn’t it? Big fan of the male first years-“

She can’t bite her tongue any longer.

“You’re grown ass adults now,” she spits. “Just because you’re realising you peaked in high school, and the rest of your lives will be spent as angry depressed salarymen in shitty marriages with angry depressed kids, doesn’t meant you need to take it out on me.”

Hanamiya pauses, as if surprised - or mock surprised. As she turns the corner to the crime section, she hears wolf-whistling and applause.

“She’s still got it,” says Hara, referencing the times the team used to perform rap battles while watching each other practise shooting.

She won everytime. She was the “rap battle queen”, and when she got a 3-pointer from the bench, after coming up with a lethal bar about Matsumoto’s hair - or lack of - she was deemed the queen of the team full stop. Those were the good days. Yamazaki, ceasing to clap, has a solemn look in his gaze like he’s thinking the same thing.

The rant has given her some more confidence. Even knowing that the crime section is the only part of the bookstore that has no cameras on it, and that that’s probably why they chose it, she still feels better. They can’t do their worst in a public location. And it’s only forty minutes until she can close up shop, head to the local police station, only a five minute walk away, and tell them that she’s being followed by an obsessive boyfriend and his friends, could she please stay at the station till they walk away. As long as they don’t find out her current address, or anything about her husband, she’ll be alright.

Thirty-nine minutes now.

“It really has been a while.” Before she can think to push him away, Hara wraps his arms around her, his weight pressing her into the corner, and whispers in her ear, “I missed you, you know?”

“Leave her be, Hara,” Yamazaki sighs.

“Jealous much,” replies Hara, but he does let go, adding, “you’ve put on weight. No more basketball to keep you fit, ey? I was the same way for a bit. After you happened.”

38 minutes. Just 16 two minutes left to go.

“You know, you’re the reason Zaki didn’t get to his first choice university. Because you gave him a record.”

“Sucks to be him,” she retorts, just as Yamazaki mumbles, quietly,

“That’s not true. My parents sorted it out.”

“But it could have been true,” interjects Hara, “which is why someone should be showing more remorse.”

Hara hasn’t changed, that much is clear. He argues with the same pointless, childish, circular arguments that he’s had since he was in high school, whose logic never had to make much sense as long as he had it in his mind that he was superior to whoever he was arguing with. Even his hair colour hasn’t changed. And these stupid remarks now aren’t much different to the times he would pull her ear or punch her in the arm. Time has killed much of the malice he used to have towards her, leaving nothing but that same demand for attention. Plus - a confusion as to why he wants that attention, like a bully who targets their crush.

Had she not snitched, would she have ended up like this too - forever trying to return to the days of high school? Or was it because she snitched that the rest of them got stuck in the time loop, clinging onto the life they lived before they realised they weren’t above the law?

There’s no juvenile laws to protect them anymore. Plus she doubts that their parents would be happy to get them out of trouble, now that they’re adults who’ve been given everything they need to have a successful future. They’re not going to hurt her, really hurt her, in a situation where they could face the consequences; they must know she’ll go straight to the police.

They can’t hurt her but they also can’t leave her be.

With this in mind, she starts to speak.

“When I said I did it for your sakes, I meant it. It wasn’t from the moral high ground that you perceived it to be. I genuinely meant it. You’ll never know how many times I thought about throwing away the USB and carrying on as if the team’s - our team’s - behaviour was normal. I barely slept for the nights leading up to that final day, and I barely slept afterwards. To this day, part of me feels guilty. I threw up in the headmaster’s office when I showed him the clips. He thought it was because I was so disgusted - but it wasn’t. It was just, when you watched the videos,” her voice cracks, “you could tell we were all friends. I was watching those videos thinking what a horrible person I was to betray you all like that. I was-“

She takes a shaky breath. Her eyes are burning as she fights the urge to cry.

No one else speaks.

“The worst part of it is, I was never planned on doing it. I started recording during practice, after matches, whatever, because I wanted to make a film of us. I was going to present it to you all at the end of our third year, as a memento of our time together.

But the more time I spent editing, the more I realised what you - we - were really like. We were so cruel. I’d never realised it until I was watching us as pixels on a screen. God, the things we said - honing in on people’s physical weaknesses, with no respect for the actual game, and ignoring the fact people could actually be crippled for life thanks to one stupid basketball match. Jokes about beating people up for fun that became actually beating people up for fun. Comments on how you’d make people pay for going against you, that got increasingly explicit and violent over the course of the year. Or that time a guy yelled at me after a match, and you were with me, Zaki, you overheard. Yes, he shouldn’t have called me a bitch - but you could have killed him if Seto hadn’t showed up to help me pull you off him. What future would you have had then?

The entire fucking team was edging closer to doing something that would be in your records for the rest of your lives. Practice after school was less about basketball and more about honing this pack mentality where all that mattered was violence with no consequences. What I showed the headmaster was the mild stuff. I deleted the really incriminating bits, like Furuhashi holding a knife to someone's throat to school, or Hara waterboarding one of the health committee kids.

We didn’t need any of that. Hanamiya, with your brains, you could have developed any sort of team, you could have learnt any skill you wanted. Why did you have to pick hurting people? Kiridai could have been a really good, genuinely good basketball team. You guys were all so talented!”

Tears fall to the carpet as she stares down at the floor, her fists clenched, her voice growing quiet.

“And I loved every moment I spent with you all. I loved every single one of you. I loved pre-match prep, running around an unknown school to figure out where the toilets were, scouting out opponents in stupid disguises, playing streetball at dawn in an area I would never have felt confident to walk around with you there, or team sleepovers at my house where we’d fall asleep together on the sofa. I still dream of you all now, and I wake up crying, knowing that I was the one who ruined it. I’m sorry.” She looks them each in the eyes as she says this; her voice is loud again, and resolute, “I’m sorry. I was naive, I was self-righteous, and I ruined everything.

I’m really fucking sorry.”

She wipes the tears off her face one final time, and says, “The shop will be closing soon. Hanamiya, I directed you to the crime section as requested. If you want to make any purchases, I’ll be at the counter but please make them in the next twenty minutes. Thank you.”

She walks away.

No one calls her back.

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