#anyway I’m sorry for those who follow me for literally anything else — math is kicking my ass

[aimfall]

I spent far too much time on this so you’re seeing this too fuck you

(this is my dnd party)

[kinglazrus]

Deep Wounds Ch. 2 - What Now?

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Word count: 4069

It takes ten minutes for everyone to change and clear out. During that time, an invisible Danny floats in one of the shower stalls, his gym bag clutched to his chest, one hand clamped around his mouth. If it hadn't been for Dash's shout of "No!" he might not have hidden in time. Danny only had a few seconds to snatch up his bandages and bag—but not the gauze—before the first person entered.

It was Tucker, thankfully. He gaped when he saw Danny and quickly waved for him to hide. Just in time, too, since Elliot was only a few steps behind.

Now, Danny can only hear a single person shuffling about.

"It's clear," Tucker whispers.

Danny floats through the door of the shower stall, breathing a sigh of relief when he sees the empty change room. He drops his invisibility and dumps his stuff on the floor in favour of clutching his side. "Why didn't I stay home today?"

"Because you want to graduate this year and you can't afford another absence." Tucker grabs his gym shirt off the floor, revealing the forgotten gauze pad, and sighs at the new stains. "I really liked this shirt."

"Sorry, man."

"Dude, you are literally bleeding. Shut up. You don't need to apologize. Just be glad I got my shirt off before Elliot could see the damn thing." Tucker grabs the gauze, rolls it into a ball, and tosses it toward the garbage can. "Ten points!"

The gauze bounces off the rim and falls to the floor.

"Zero points," Danny says.

"Rude."

"Hey, I'm bleeding, remember?"

"That only gets you a pass from saying sorry, not common decency."

Danny's shoulders shake as he laughs. It hurts, making his left side throbbing, but trying to hold it back hurts worse. "Ow, ow, ow," he says, gasps of pain interrupting him. Curling over, he hugs his side even tighter, fighting back a sharp cry. The tension in his body doesn't help, but the pressure on his side feels good.

"Sam on her way?" Danny asks.

"She's grabbing the first-aid kit from my locker. I'll fix you up this time. We all know I have steadier hands." That A-plus in home ec isn't for nothing.

"Thanks," Danny mumbles.

"Yeah, dude. We've got you."

After Sam arrives, Tucker redoes Danny's stitches in record time. Half of the lunch hour has passed by the time Danny gets patched up, but he doesn't feel hungry anyway. Tucker takes his and Danny's bloody gym shirts and stuffs them into the first-aid kit.

"I need to refill on some supplies at home," Tucker explains. "I'll get rid of these there."

"Good idea. My mom found a pair of jeans I forgot to throw away after a fight with Skulker. I had a hard time explaining that one away," Danny says. The "I tripped into a window" excuse probably only works once, anyway. "But we have another problem."

"Dash?" Sam asks.

Danny nods. "Yeah. How did you know?"

"He was acting weird when gym ended. Wouldn't let anyone come inside until we pushed him out of the way."

"Huh." Danny certainly didn't expect that. Dash might be a downright bully anymore, but he's still not prone to random acts of kindness. "That's... weird." It doesn't make up for him tearing Danny's wound back open, even if it was an accident, but it's something.

"I think we might not have to worry about him," Sam says.

Danny stares at her, incredulous. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, actually. He could have done anything when he saw the rest of the class coming, including telling everyone that you were hurt. But he stopped them instead."

"But this is Dash."

"That's surprising coming from you."

"What does that even mean? You guys and Valerie are being so weird today. Come on, Tucker. Back me up." Danny looks at Tucker, fully expecting him to be on Danny's side.

Tucker doesn't respond right away. Biting his thumbnail, he stares ahead at the floor, deep in thought. That alone is enough to send Danny for a loop. When Tucker does answer, Danny's jaw drops in disbelief.

"I'm with Sam on this."

"For real?"

"Yeah, man. We don't even know what Dash thinks he saw, anyway. What happened when he walked in?" Tucker asks.

Danny tells them, sparing no detail.

"Oh, wow."

Sam shakes her head. "I'll say. I can't believe you wailed at him."

"Almost. I almost wailed at him. It was a baby wail at most. More of a hum," Danny says. He was just so surprised when Dash walked in. Danny's instincts took over and all he could think about was getting Dash out of there as soon as possible. He is lucky no one else came running.

"That already will have freaked him out. If we go around making a big deal about it and getting in his face, that'll make things worse." Sam stands up from the floor, stretching her arms over her head. She looks completely unconcerned, so does Tucker for that matter. Both of them are content to let Dash be. "Let's wait to see what he does. If he starts spreading rumours, we'll know right away, and then we can confront him."

"On the other hand, he might go to you, Danny, first," Tucker adds. He takes a bottle of Aspirin from the first-aid kit and presses it into Danny's hand before zipping the bag up. "He might not do anything."

The bottle of Aspirin rattles as Danny twists the lid off. "I can't believe you guys are okay with this." He dumps a couple of pills into his palm and tosses them back. Wordlessly, Sam passes him a water bottle. One quick swig is all he needs to help the pills go down. "He could be telling everyone right now."

"He could," Sam admits. "But he won't."

Sam and Tucker get up to leave, and Danny's forced to follow, or else get left behind. He trails after them, stiff, sore, and aching. The pills won't kick in for a while, and he loathes having to walk now. If he could get away with it, he would spend the rest of the day floating through the halls.

Tragically, he has a secret to protect. One that is very much at risk right now, despite what Sam says. Wherever she and Tucker are getting their confidence from, Danny doesn't share it. He just hopes they're right.

Dash tries to hold it in. He really does. The sound of Danny's anger bearing down on him, reverberating through the change room, hasn't stopped rattling around his head. But as lunch nears its end, the words burst out of him.

"I think Fenton is in a gang or something," Dash says.

The table falls silent.

Kwan freezes in place, hand halfway to his mouth, and a piece of meatloaf falls off his fork. "You... what?"

"I think Danny is in a gang," Dash repeats, softer.

His friends gape at him, equally confused. Mostly. Star doesn't even look up from her math homework. In fact, Dash thinks she's smiling, but he ignores it.

"Kwan, I thought you said Danny was the one who got hit during gym class," Paulina says. She pushes her lunch aside and leans across the table, lifting a hand to Dash's forehead. "Are you sure you got it right?"

"I'm fine, Paulie." Dash ducks under his hand and hunkers low to the table. When no one else moves, he gestures for them to come closer. Kwan does so immediately. Paulina rolls her eyes but obliges.

"I'm good," Star says.

"Okay, so, I checked on Fenton after dropping him off, 'cause he looked kind of bad, and I guess, I don't know. I felt... whatever. It doesn't matter. But like, he had this huge cut."

Paulina grins and leans in closer, finally looking invested. "You felt kind of 'whatever?'"

Dash scowls. "Seriously, Paulie?"

"You're the one who said it!" Paulina smacks the table, a fit of giggles bursting from her. It's her "I've found some juicy gossip" noise and Dash hates it.

"Did you even hear me? Huge cut and all that?" Dash says.

Kwan shrugs. "I don't know. His parents build a lot of crazy stuff, don't they? He probably hurt himself on one of those. Did you see that new gun they were toting around last week? It melted Mr. Lancer's car!"

"Oh, my God. I totally saw that. I felt so bad for him," Paulina says.

Dash frowns down at the table while the conversation plods on. True, everyone knows the Fentons have some crazy inventions. But everything they make, they make to hurt ghosts, not people. Everyone in town has been caught in the Fentons crossfire at one point or another. Dash still remembers the disgusting taste of the Fenton Foamers. Like warm, month-old key lime yogurt. Disgusting, but ultimately harmless.

And Danny didn't just have a little cut. It was huge. Dash only got a brief look at it, but that short glance told him everything he needed to know. Something, or someone, had hurt Danny. Rather than going to the hospital—because no trained professional would do such a sloppy job—Danny fixed it himself or got his friends to fix it. The injury had to be new, too, since it was still bleeding.

But stitches could bleed if you ripped them, didn't treat the injury right. Judging by the placement, Danny's stitches must pull every time he moves his arm.

Could one of his parents' guns have done that?

Now that Dash thinks about it, he doesn’t remember ever seeing Danny get hit with his parents' weapons. Not their guns, at least. They have that dumb boomerang thing that he's seen smack Danny on the back of the head. Actually, that one hits Danny a lot.

Dash's frown deepens, etching into his face. Why on Earth would one of Danny's own parents' inventions hurt him so much? Unless...

"Hey, guys?" Dash asks, interrupting Star mid-sentence.

"You found more proof of Fenton's gang activities?" Paulina asks.

"What if, like, someone's hurting him?"

"You mean one of his gang buddies?"

"No, Paulie, I'm serious. What if someone is hurting him?"

The table falls silent once more, but this time, his friends' expressions are serious rather than disbelieving.

Kwan lowers his voice. "Do you really think... I mean, Fenton?"

"Well..." Star taps her chin. "Where was he hurt?"

"Here." Dash taps his ribs on his left side, under his arm.

Star nods. "Okay. Are you sure he couldn't have, you know...." She trails off, but Dash already knows what she means.

"No way. He could hardly see the cut, much less do it himself. And it was bad."

"So he was hurt, badly, in a place that no one else would normally see. He didn't miss any school, so he probably didn't go to the hospital. Was it recent?"

Dash nods. "There was blood. Too much to just be because of the stitches."

Star drums her fingers on the table, nodding slowly. "I think you could be right."

The A-listers glance around the table, meeting each other's eyes. None of them say anything, but the same question lurks in all their minds. Now what?

In the days following the change room debacle, Danny avoids Dash like his life depends on it. Which it might. Any time he sees Dash in the hall, he turns right around and walks away. When they're in class, Danny stares straight ahead and refuses to look Dash's way. In gym class, Tetslaff lets him sit out, finally. Having Danny blackout on her after she forced him to play must have spooked her because she benches him before he can even ask not to play.

"No student of mine is gonna pass out on my watch. Twice," she says.

It won't last forever, but Danny will take what he can get, while he can get it.

But the thing is, Dash doesn't try anything. It's surreal. For the past four years, Danny has grown accustomed to Dash's constant harassment. Even when it dropped significantly in sophomore year, Dash never stopped. He threw erasers at Danny during class, tripped him in the halls, called out teasing names every chance he got.

"I'm not the only one who thinks this is weird, right?" Danny asks Tucker on the third day.

Already done his lunch, Tucker is thoroughly engrossed by his phone and doesn't look up as he replies. "You think everything is weird lately."

"Because it is."

"Missing your quality time with Dash?" Tucker flashes a quick grin in Danny's direction before returning to his phone.

"Har, har. You are so funny." Danny would have to be some kind of masochist to miss Dash's badgering. It's just... strange, not to have to watch the halls for him in that way. It doesn't make Danny watch any less—in fact, he finds himself looking for Dash more than before. So that he can run away if he gets close. Except Dash isn't even trying, and that annoys the hell out of him.

Tucker sighs, finally putting down his phone, and rests a hand on Danny's head. "Such a hopeless young soul. Can't even understand your own heart."

Danny slaps the hand away. "Says the guy who asked out every girl in school because they all made him feel the same way because it turns out he's super ace and didn't actually feel anything for any of them."

"And what an emotional journey that was." Tucker faces Danny head-on. "Look, Danny. If it's bothering you that much, then go talk to him. Feed him some excuse about what happened. Just remember that there's a reason Sam and I think it will be okay."

Danny ponders Tucker's advice for the rest of the day. The weekend starts tomorrow, which gives him two whole Dash-free days to think about the situation. Maybe a little time to himself as what he needs. He goes for a flight after school rather than walking home with Tucker; being in the air always helps clear his head.

He soars far above the city until he is little more than a pinprick to everyone far below. At the peak of his flight, his phone rings. The caller ID shows it's Jazz.

"What's up?" he greets his sister.

"Taken over my room yet?" Jazz asks.

"When you've only been at college for a month? Of course." It made a great storage space. Danny turns over to float on his stomach and starts drifting down like a leaf, falling back and forth on the wind.

"Well, I'm gonna need it back this weekend."

"Dropping out already?"

"You wish. I got a tutoring gig: two sessions—Saturday and Sunday. I don't want to do the two hours there and back both days, so I'm coming home for the weekend."

"I can't believe someone is actually paying to spend time with you. Hope the loser doesn't rub off on them."

Jazz laughs. "Pretty sure any loser on my came from you. And it's four people. Actually, you know them."

When Danny comes downstairs Saturday morning and sees Jazz's students at the kitchen table, he stops dead.

"You have got to be kidding me," he says.

"Hi, Danny!" Paulina waves, far too perky for nine in the morning. Squished around the table with her, Kwan and Star offer their own small waves. Dash looks straight down at his textbook.

"Goodbye." Danny pivots and marches back toward the stairs. Forget breakfast; he didn't want to eat, anyway. He can still have a nice, relaxing, Dash-free day in the confines of his bedroom.

A cascade of whispers reaches his ears as he hits the first stair. The A-listers murmur too quiet for him to make out what they're saying, although he thinks he catches his name more than once. Maybe they're talking about how uncanny it is being inside his house. Or, perhaps, they're discussing the new school nurse, Tammy. But even as he thinks it, he knows neither theory is true.

A chair screeches in the kitchen, the plastic capped legs scraping against the linoleum. Danny throws himself up the stairs.

"Oh, Danny, wait!" Paulina's silky voice follows him.

He jerks to a stop at the landing, cringing. How mad would she be if he ignored her? It's funny to think that a few years ago his heart would have leapt at Paulina calling out his name, back when he had a crush on her.

His toes curl against the carpet as he hesitates; the pros and cons of ignoring her run through his head. Pro: he won't have to deal with whatever scheme she's up to, and Paulina is most certainly up to something. Con: she might sic Dash on him, and he's the last person Danny wants to see right now. But that's a moot point because Dash is already here. After some humming and hawing, he grits his teeth and turns back around.

Paulina hangs out the kitchen doorway, greeting him with a bright smile.

"Yes, Paulina?" Danny asks.

It should be physically impossible for her smile to get any wider, and yet it does. "You're having trouble in science class, right?"

Danny hesitates. "Maybe. Why?"

"So are we! We came here for a study session with your sister, since she was Casper's best student in thirty decades. You should join us!"

"Isn't Star acing all her classes? And I thought science was your best class."

Paulina rolls her eyes and huffs, but without any malice. It reminds him of the look Tucker gives his little cousins when they are being intentionally obstinate. Danny flushes, suddenly feeling stupid even though he doesn't understand why.

"Yeah, we're good at it, but the boys aren't. Duh." She says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is. "It's easier to study in a group."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I like studying alone."

Paulina's smile doesn't fall, but it changes. Danny can't quite place what it turns into. Her mouth curves upward and her teeth are exposed; objectively, it's still a smile. But there's a new tension to it, one Danny only notices now, but he thinks might have been there the whole time, lurking behind the bright façade. His grip on the newel post tightens, the wood creaking beneath his finger.

At times like this, Danny wishes his ghost abilities included reading emotions. The look Paulina is giving him is important, he can feel it, even though he can't explain it. But it doesn't mean anything if he can't decipher it.

"If you say so." The moment shatters. Paulina withdraws back into the kitchen, leaving Danny alone and wondering if he missed something important.

Down the hall from him, Jazz's bedroom door opens. She emerges with an armful of books—old schoolbooks, Danny notes.

"Not hanging out with Sam and Tucker today?" she asks.

"Jazz, it's not even noon yet. I don't think Tucker's awake." Danny glances down the stairs toward the kitchen, mulling something over in his head. "I kind of want some alone time today. I know you're tutoring and everything, but could you make sure they don't bother me?"

Jazz frowns. "Is everything okay?"

"There was an... incident with Dash at school."

"Boy troubles?"

"Jazz!" Danny's entire face turns scarlet. "Please never say that about Dash." He lowers his voice. "It was ghost-related troubles."

Jazz's expression goes stony, her teasing smile replaced by a serious frown. "Do I need to take care of him for you?"

"Oh, my God, Jazz! Just keep him away from my room!" He marches the rest of the way to his room to the sound of Jazz's snickers and slams the door behind him.

When Paulina returns to the kitchen, Dash sits up straighter. She shakes her head as she reclaims her seat next to Star. Dash deflates again.

"I told you this wouldn't work," Dash says.

"Don't be so silly. That wasn't even plan A, although it would make things easier. Are you sure you didn't do anything to him in that change room?" Paulina asks.

Dash groans. "Please. Please never say anything like that again. It sounds so wrong."

"You're the one who took it that way."

Star and Kwan laugh at Dash's misfortune, watching him bury his face in his arms. When Star suggested they gather evidence, to confirm whether or not Danny was being abused at home, this wasn't what Dash expected. He pictured spy movie antics with them sneaking through the bushes dressed all in black, peeking through windows until they say something that proved—or disproved—their theory.

Things would go a lot easier if Dash could actually talk to Danny, but ever since that moment in the change room, he can't. He knows Danny has been avoiding him, which is better short term. If Danny walked up to Dash right now demanding to talk about what happened, Dash wouldn't know what to say.

How many times has he hurt Danny (pushed, kicked, body-checked) when he was injured? There's a possibility, however slim, that this was a fluke, the first time Danny has ever come to school injured. There have to be loads of reasons someone might not go to the hospital, such as bad insurance. Dash's cousin broke her nose once and let it heal crooked instead of going to the doctor since it was cheaper. He's heard stories of people sacrificing their health rather than paying exorbitant hospital fees. It's not impossible.

Except Danny's parents are inventors. They do projects for the government and can afford to throw money around for ridiculous ghost hunting contraptions. The Emergency Ops Centre only two floors above them must have cost millions. If that's the case, then surely his parents can afford a hospital visit for such a bad wound.

Dash doesn’t like to think about the alternative, but he has to. The alternative is the whole reason he and his friends are here.

That doesn't help with Dash's other dilemma, though. How is he supposed to talk to Fenton, now? Dash doesn't think he knows how to interact with Danny without some form of aggression. Even when he stopped outright bullying people, he never stopped with Danny. A push here, a shove there. It is instinct for Dash to stick his foot out if he sees Danny coming.

Danny even returns the favour, sometimes, growing bolder the older they became. Dash still doesn't know how Danny keeps getting into his stuffed bear collection, but it's not unusual for him to find one in his locker or sitting at his desk when he returns to class.

It's what they do. Dash can't help it. Any time he manages to trip Danny up enough that he gets a glare or a vengeful smile, it makes him feel good.

But he can't do that now. If Danny is actually getting hurt at home, Dash can't in his right mind keep agitating him. Just thinking about what he did to Danny's stitches makes him pale. He doesn't even want to think about what other wounds he's made worse over the years.

And he has. Dash knows this without a doubt. Thinking back on their interactions this year alone, more than five occasions come to mind where Danny grimaced, or flinched, or clutched some part of his body after Danny bumped his shoulder in the hall. It feels him with an indescribable dread, but the worst of it is he can't understand why.

He never knew Danny was injured; he can't be entirely to blame. Thinking that does nothing to assuage his guilt, though.

"Okay!" Jazz Fenton announces herself with a bright chirp. She clutches a stack of textbooks to her chest; books Dash recognizes from their classes. The idea that she stole them from the school flashes through his mind, but that's ludicrous. Jazz doesn't have a criminally minded bone in her body. If anything, she bought them, or the school gave them to her for being that amazing. Either option is more likely than her committing a crime.

Jazz slams the books down on the table directly across from Dash. She flashes him a brilliant smile as she sits and folds her hands over the table.

"So, Dash." She tilts her head. Her smile no longer looks kind. "I've heard some interesting things about you."

Previous | Next

[manicpixietrashfire]

Prompt: locked in the bathroom together 😛

Remember five million years ago when I got this prompt and then didn’t know what to do with it and then figured it out after another five million years????

No? 

Great! 

Thanks for sending me a prompt homeslice lol!! I actually love getting them no matter how long it takes!! Also please y’all check out @tracy7307‘s blog the content is p r e m i u m. 

Anyway, sorry for the rant! Here’s the prompt fulfilled! 

“The door’s locked, Harrington, ain’t no getting out this one,” Billy grumbled.

And yeah, Steve got that already. He perfectly understood he’s trapped in the basement bathroom of some dickwad’s house while a rager goes on above them.

They might as well be stuck  in outer space.

No one’s gonna hear him scream, no probably even knows they’re down there, they’re gonna be stuck there all night. Hell, maybe even all of tomorrow too.

“Billy, where the hell did you put the fucking key.”

“I don’t remember,” he slurred from inside the dickwad’s basement bathtub.

He had his back up against the wall, legs flung over the side of the tub. He shifted around, and grinned smugly. It looked more lazy and broken on his drunken face than anything else. “Why don’t you go ahead and frisk me for it?”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose like his mom does when she’s trying not to yell at him.

He’s not drunk enough for this.

Billy lured him down here saying there was some freaky shit in the basement, which, is astounding because Steve still has zero clue how he knew to do that because Billy doesn’t even know about the upside down.

“I’m not frisking you, check your pockets,” Steve huffed.

Billy’s head rolled against the tile. “Not in my pockets. That’d be too easy.”

Of course would be.

Steve rarely ever feels the urge to put his foot up someone’s ass. Rarely, being the keyword, and Billy being the usual catalyst.

Steve kicked back the rug in front of the toilet, finding the same tiled floor. “You’re shitting me. Where the hell did you put it?” He dumped the toothbrush holder into the sink. Nothing. And ran his fingers above the medicine cabinet.

“Hargrove,” Steve smacked his foot.

Billy hummed. A pair of drowsy blue eyes looked up at him. “You look good angry, you know that?”

Steve flushed. He really should be used to Billy and his antics but he isn’t, he’s pretty sure he never will be.  

“Light does you good,” Billy muttered. “You…your eyes change color they get kinda gold, mine don’t, not that mine aren’t nice ‘cause they are. But yours are real nice too, they’re not shit brown. They’re–”

“If you’re not gonna help me look and you’re not gonna try to remember, do me a favor and stop talking,” Steve said.

He checked behind the sink and in the toilet. No and no. He sighed, hands hitched on his hips. He scanned the room for the fifth time.

Nada.

“Oh my God,” Steve raked his hand down his face. “Why did you do this, you asshole?” He slumped down onto the floor and glared at him. “Why?” This time it wasn’t directed at Billy so much as it wasn’t directed at God who was undoubtedly smiling down at him and laughing.

Billy giggled. “You’re funny, Harrington. And dramatic.”

Steve glared at him. “Stop. Talking.”

It’s a quarter to eleven and the party doesn’t show any signs of stopping and when it does he’s sure no one’s going to be coming down the basement stairs. Everyone’s gonna either go home or fall face down drunk…and they’ll be here.

Trapped.

“I shouldn’t have even come,” Steve groaned with his palms pressed to his face. “I should’ve just stayed home.”

“Me too,” Billy agreed. “Should’ve stayed home, wouldn’t be here. We’re a couple of idiots, Harrington.”

Steve lifted his head to glare at him. “This is literally and solely your fault. I’m not an idiot, you’re just an asshole.”

Billy laughed again, mockingly. “You’re an idiot for following me down here. I didn’t even have to make you.”

Steve’s mouth snapped shut.

Touche.

He leaned his head against the bathroom wall and shut his eyes. Maybe he would fall asleep. Maybe they both would, Billy certainly looked like he could. His eyes haven’t been completely open since he hunkered down in the bathtub.

Steve listened to muted pop playing one floor above them for what felt like hours, unfortunately, it was probably minutes.

It had to be, because Billy wasn’t sleeping he was humming–loudly.

Steve opened his eyes to look at him. “Can I…help you?”

Billy hummed the low, sad song, while his head rocked back and forth slowly. Billy stopped to speak. “You like Elvis, Harrington?”

“I don’t know, I guess?” He shrugged.

Billy made a loud buzzer sound. “Either you like him or you don’t, he’s the king, King.”

“Fine, then I like Elvis.”

“Good to know a pretty boy like you can hang,” Billy said.

Steve sat there for a moment trying to decipher what that meant. Billy’s eyelids had rolled shut again. Can hang? Like liking Elvis makes him cool? Not in this decade.

Steve slapped the toe of Billy’s shoe. “Listen man, you can trap me in a fucking bathroom, but you can’t just sleep all night while I have to listen Air Supply through the ceiling.”

Billy grinned, he started to chuckle. “You know, you’re funny too, Harrington,” Billy’s grin spread into a smile, his tongue peaked between his teeth. “Yeah, you’re real funny.”

“You already said that,” Steve said.

“Well, it’s true. I meant it.”

Steve realized, then, he was serious. No jokes. No dickish assholery. Big surprise, the guy who had been saying he ‘means it’ the whole night, actually meant it. “Oh,” Steve bit the inside of his cheek. “Uh, thanks.”

Billy nodded. “No problem.”

“So,” Steve itched his nose. He felt itchy and hot. “You wanna just uh…talk until we fall asleep?” “What like pillow talk?” Billy said.

Steve winced. He knew he was blushing at this point, only Billy, drunk and painfully blunt would say that.

“No, that’s not…why would you–?”

Billy cackled. “I don’t even have to look at you to see your face right now.” He did anyway though. Billy looked at him with syrupy sweet blue eyes and a pleasant smile. “Did that one get you in a twist, Harrington? You seem like the type to be into pillow talk.”

Billy watched the flush spread down his neck and Steve’s lips curl up. “What does that…that’s not even an insult.”

“It isn’t,” he replied. “It’s an ob-ser-vation.” Billy’s eyes focused on him, “you wanna talk?”

Steve huffed. “Well, now I don’t.”

“I’ll play nice,” Billy said with obvious teeth. “C’mon, maybe talking with you will jog my memory.” He seriously doubted that, but Billy was going to say anything to get what he wanted including insults. “Fine,” he groaned. “What do you wanna talk about?”

Billy stood with a loud grunt. Steve watched him wobble before getting one leg over the tub and then another.

He dropped down next to him–too close like Billy always seems to be.

“What’s your deal with Ronnie Rothslinger?” Billy asked, leaning in.

Steve’s face screwed up. “My tutor? And it’s not Ronnie, it’s Veronica.”

Billy’s face was a myriad of emotions, finally settling on something similar to the face of a small child that’s accidentally dropped a very important piece of china. “Oh,” he said quietly.

He scoffed. “Yeah, no, me and Veronica, are…” he shrugged. “Trust me, she’s not uh…we’re not like that.”

“What? She’s not into you?” Billy prodded.  

Steve scoffed. “Yeah, no, and, again, Hargrove, she’s my tutor, we, like, talk about math. There’s no ‘into’ anything.”

“You don’t like her?” Billy asked as if ‘there’s no ‘into’ anything’ didn’t mean shit.

“No,” Steve said exasperatedly. “I mean like she’s kind of an okay friend but I don’t like her, like her, you know?”

Billy seemed satisfied with that answer. Steve didn’t even know he was looking for a certain one. He nodded. “You got a thing smart chicks, I just thought…” Billy stopped. “I don’t know what I thought.”

“Yeah.”

Things were silent for a beat. Billy’s eyes had shut and for a minute Steve genuinely thought he’d fallen asleep, his head was tilted towards him, mouth a little slack.

“Billy?”

“Hmm?” He hummed.

“Why’d you lock me in here, anyway?”

Billy opened his eyes just enough to look at him through those insanely dark lashes that not even Steve could ignore. “Just wanted to hang out, s’not every day my presence is graced by the likes of you, your highness.”

“Jesus,” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Wasn’t joking around, Harrington,” Billy said.

Steve nudged him and with a small smirk. “Oh, what? Like you missed me, Hargrove?”

“Maybe.”

What is this? Honesty hour?

Steve turned to look at him only for Billy to be staring right back at him like he’d never been drunk at all, as if all the alcohol and humming and staggering had been an act. If he weren’t so red still he’d think it was.

His eyes darted around Billy’s face. They’re not really friends, barely acquaintances besides egging each other. Steve knew Billy the same way he knew tugging on pigtails and wet willies and gross jokes.

Familiar. Fun. Fleeting.

Billy looked at him like he was a vision, a dream. THE dream. That look like in the right story, in the right time they’d get in a car and drive away straight to the coast.

They barely even know each other, and Steve still kind of wanted it.  Billy ran his tongue across his bottom lip, “you ever kiss a guy before, Harrington?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispered softly over the sound of muted music. “Once.”

“I haven’t,” Billy said. It was quiet and soft and forlorn, like he was embarrassed and too drunk to do anything about it.  

Billy’s probably in the majority, but something tells him that’s not what he wanted to hear. Billy;s head sloped down to his shoulder, Steve felt his curls tickle his ears.

“You will,” Steve said. “One day.”

“Thanks.”

[ewankoseyo]

serious || highschool!jackson au

A/N: Just a lil something I whipped up on a bus ride. Hella longer than I expected but here you go! Part 2 of magnetic coming very soon!

——

jackson is the male lead in those cheesy teen romcoms who’s the most handsome and most popular guy in school and is actually nice to everyone

he messes around in class too much and can be really chatty but because he’s so nice and polite, teachers can’t really get mad at him so they just kind of shush him in between lessons

they have him come in during lunch to help them clean lab supplies as a lesson

which he does without complaining BECAUSE HE’S JUST SO DANG NICE

actually makes conversation with them and basically knows about the personal lives of all the teachers

he’s a golden retriever in human form

basketball team? team captain

fencing team? FOUNDED IT

drama club? auditions for all the spring plays because that’s his sports-free season

chess club? he marched to the principal’s office with the school nerds when the club was threatened by school budget cuts and argued with the principal to keep it open

(“oh you know what mr. wang? you’re right! I think the school CAN spare some funds for the chess club!”)

did I mention he volunteers his time at the local children’s hospital reading to kids on the weekends when he doesn’t have games or matches?

seriously, how does this kid have so much time for all of these activities

he should have “perfect to take home to your parents” tattooed to his forehead

but you stubbornly try to resist his charms because you think he plays too much

he sits behind you in math class and always compliments the back of your head

“did you curl your hair today? it looks really pretty!”

“thanks jackson…”

offers to walk with you to class and carry your textbooks

“your hands look full, let me help you out!”

“it’s okay jackson…”

(he completely ignores this and takes your books to class anyway)

(he’s running to class so you have no time to protest)

it’s not that you hated jackson wang

based off of his personality, it would be a crime to hate him

but falling for jackson wang was pointless

jackson charmed anyone and flirted with everyone

he received love confessions by the week but politely rejected each and every one of them

no one has ever heard of him being in a relationship which came as a shocker to the whole student body

him? THE jackson wang??? sinGLE??????? HOW???????????

at one point, a rumor flew around that he was gay

why else would he reject the prettiest girls in school?

but you knew better

jackson wang was a free spirit

with all his time spent being so involved in everyone else’s lives, there was no time left to focus on the feelings in his

jackson was seriously the nicest and coolest and cutest guy on the planet

but he just wasn’t serious

so you tried to brush him off when you felt he was playing too much

because you didn’t have time for games

besides, why would a perfect angel of a man-child like jackson wang ever return your serious feelings?

(if you had serious feelings for him, that is)

you literally burned yourself with the curling iron this morning trying to use it as a microphone

how could jackson ever fall for you?

so yeah

falling for jackson wang was FUTILE

anyways,

one day jackson tried to pass you a note during class but you just shot him dirty glances before turning back to the board

“jackson, I’m trying to concentrate.”

“ah sorry, I’ll just ask after class! hehe”

but your teacher had other plans after class

the two of you were asked to stay back (but rest assured, you both weren’t in trouble)

so it turns out there was a downside to jackson’s super-involvement in extracurriculars

his grades had been slipping in math ever since fencing season started

(“I’m sorry sir, we’ve been having tournaments back to back!”)

if he wanted to keep competing, he was going to have to get his grades up

with the help of a tutor

someone who…idk…has the highest grade in class but needed some extra credit to bump it up two grade points to a 100 ???????

what could you say? the universities you were applying to were really competitive

so you begrudgingly agreed to tutor jackson wang until he got his grades up

he would follow you home after school and you’d work with him for an hour

he insisted on going to your house since the days were getting shorter and he didn’t want you to have to walk home alone in the dark all because you had to help him

damn him and his kind heart

through these after school tutor sessions, he got to know your family

as expected, they LOVED HIM

whenever your parents would come home from work, he would stop what ever problem he was doing to talk to them

“hello aunty and uncle, how was work?”

“did you confront your co-worker who was giving you a hard time today?”

“I hear you might be getting a promotion soon. good luck!”

when your younger siblings were around, he’d take a “study break” to play with them

you would have to snap jackson back into focus

“c’mon jackson, you still need to finish this problem set.”

“sorry, we’re almost done solving this puzzle!”

your tutoring sessions would end with the two of you just talking 

mostly just jackson asking you questions about yourself and you answering

“what do you like doing on the weekends?”

“idk watch movies? listen to music? I’m pretty boring”

“what kind of movies do you like watching? we should have a movie night one day!”

as much as you were trying to avoid falling for jackson wang, you weren’t about to kick him out of your house

you weren’t rude

and it’s not like you had anything else to do

(you had gotten all your homework done while he was getting friendly with your family)

plus you weren’t this used to having someone be interested in you

inquisitive about you, that is, ahem

even though this was probably just a friendly thing jackson wang does with everyone, you appreciated someone wanting to get to know you just because

so you let him hang around and ask you more questions

soon, the questions were getting to be a bit much to and you were getting annoyed

“jackson you keep asking me questions about me, can you start telling me about yourself?”

jackson was the guy everyone thought they knew through his actions but what people knew about the real him was all just heresay

maybe it was because you were trying to avoid getting too close to him or maybe part of the jackson wang charm was putting the other person in the center of his conversations with them, but after all of his questions, you realized you knew next to nothing about his personal life even though you’d been tutoring him for two weeks

jackson laughed at your sudden outburst

“me? what do you want to know about me?”

it then occurred to you that he also wasn’t used to people asking about him either 

(what a kind, selfless person, ugh I hate him)

“anything! what’s your family like? why are you so involved in school? what are you doing after graduation?”

you learned that he grew up in a family of athletes so he’d been in sports for as long as he could he remember

his older brother would pull pranks on him growing up, like telling him their parents found him in the dumpster as a baby and took him home to raise him

but now he really looks up to his older brother and always asks him for advice even though he may be busy

you learned that as a child, he would have a difficult time paying attention and keeping still, so his mom put him in a bunch of activities to keep him occupied

and this probably carried on to high school

but besides how it was affecting his grades, he loved and gave his all in every activity he was involved in 

his dad taught him to be kind to others and to give tenfold to those who had nothing to give back to you

which is why he spent his extra time volunteering 

plus he enjoyed getting to know the stories of the people he was helping, there was always something to learn in each of them

as for after graduation?

you learned he wasn’t completely sure yet

he didn’t want to say too much because there were just a lot of options up in the air, something about possibly moving to korea because of an opportunity there, but he couldn’t say it out loud so as to not jinx it

so yeah, you learned a lot about him in a span of two hours (and this is just after tutoring, my goodness)

what else did you learn?

you learned you had made a mistake in asking him about his personal life because oh god now this was getting all too real and you found your heart aching at the way he would look down and smile, seeming uncharacteristically shy when talking about something he didn’t tell a lot of people or when his cheeks met his eyes when recalling a funny childhood memory or when his hands moved animatedly while describing a fencing move or the way his laugh was the most boyish most genuine laugh you’d ever heard and you’d want to spend the rest of your life listening to it—

it was happening

no, it happened

you had fallen for THE jackson wang’s charms and he wasn’t even trying

this realization must have translated to worry on your face because jackson stopped himself in the middle of a story about how he got into the chess club to ask you if you were okay

“wha-yeah, I’m fine why wouldn’t I be?”

jackson grabbed your hands and gave them a gentle squeeze before rubbing his thumbs against them soothingly

“you must be worried about college apps”

“what?”

“you mentioned before that some of your deadlines were coming up and you were stressing out about them and I noticed sometimes in math you’re not paying attention to the lesson so you can work on them”

if you weren’t so flustered from him holding your hands, you would have burst out laughing from his conclusion 

“right, college apps”

and as if you couldn’t be any more flustered, you soon found your face grow even hotter when jackson reached out with one of his hands to tuck the stray hairs framing your face behind your ears soothingly

his other hand still held yours and he gave it another squeeze before giving you a sweet, reassuring smile

“you are one of the smartest, most hardworking girls I know. you study until the wee hours of the morning not just to get a good grade, but to get the best grade because you won’t settle for anything less. you’re someone who knows what she wants and won’t let obstacles get in her way. you support your classmates when they need help with an assignment or want your input on something and you never put them down or make them feel any less than when they don’t get something right. and hey, you’re helping me get my grades up! if anyone deserves to get into the college of their dreams, it’s you!”

boy had the AUDACITY to boop your nose with his index finger with that last point

and you were frozen

how were you supposed to respond to getting jackson wang’d by jackson wang?

that is until—

“can you stop that?”

jackson, who had been busy stroking your hair as he spoke, was now the one who was frozen

“what do you mean?”

you shifted farther from him on the couch you two shared. you really hadn’t meant for things to end up like this when you started tutoring him.

“I mean, could you stop being so nice to me?”

you must have looked so crazy to him (who doesn’t like it when people are nice to them???) but you kept going

“you keep asking questions about me and you compliment me every day and you notice things about me--heck you’re the only one who notices whenever I curl my hair—”

“how could I not notice you?”

you were sure that with the way your mouth was moving but not forming words, you were giving your best fish impression

“li-like this! you’re just being so nice to me a-and you just need to stop doing that...before I get the wrong idea...”

and the way jackson looked at you after you said this completely melted your heart because he just looked soooo genuinely hurt and concerned for you, with his eyebrows furrowed with worry and his lips pursed as if trying to find the right words to say next

“and what do you mean by...‘wrong idea?’”

and you just stared at him, silently begging him to not let you continue what you were about to say, but he was silently encouraging you to continue

“that you might like me back...then I feel stupid because why would you...why would someone like you--I’m sorry I can’t do this--”

you feel your voice getting caught in your throat and you’re about to make a run for it to your bedroom upstairs when you feel a hand tugging you back to the couch and all of a sudden you’re colliding into jackson’s chest

(it was a good thing your family was out running errands!)

“now can you stop doing that”

you barely register what jackson is saying as you feel the vibrations of his chest as he speaks, his arms holding you in place between his legs so you couldn’t get away again

you’re sitting between jackson wang’s freaking legs!

he takes hold of your arms and repositions you so that you’re forced to look at him

“yeah I’m gonna need you to stop doing that thing everyone else does where they talk about me like I’m all high and mighty, because no one tries to get to know me and it makes me feel isolated from everyone else”

“I’m sorry jackson I didn’t know—”

“and stop talking about yourself like that. I like you because you’re you. you’re smart. you’re polite. whenever I talked to you in school, you never flat out told me to go away even if it seemed like you didn’t want to talk. based on your amazing family, I sense that you’re amazing. you’re working so hard in helping me to raise my math grade. and I really appreciate you trying to get to know me. the real me.”

“wait...so you really like me?”

if you didn’t look so cute in his arms, jackson would have rolled his eyes so hard and smacked you

“of course I do! why else do you think I compliment you every time you curl your hair? or why would I offer to carry your books to class even though I know you’re highly capable?”

“I don’t know...I guess all those times I thought you were just playing around and—”

“how’s this for playing around?”

you didn’t have time to ask what he meant then as you felt his hands gently cup your face and he closed the distance between your lips within seconds

if he wasn’t holding you steady, you swear you would have melted on that couch

the kiss was slow and warm, his lips passionately working against yours, as if silently reassuring you he meant every word he’d said

every little peck telling you how much he cared

and when you finally pulled away from the lack of oxygen, you were sure there was no other place where you were meant to be in that moment

jackson placed his thumb under your chin and moved your head so you were looking at him

“it’s always been you.”

so you two continue on like that for the next couple of weeks

studying, making out, more studying, reward cuddles for studying

and before you know it, jackson’s grades are way above what your teacher needed in order for him to keep competing

but that doesn’t stop him from continuing to study with you

because although he had a tendency to get seriously distracted

he was always serious about you

——

[the-amazing-spider-bi]

Prompt: Write a scene about the Hargreeves as children, please! (Vanya is my favorite, please include her too)

hi anon!! thank you so much for prompting me anon that is so so so nice!!!!i almost had no idea what to write until i remembered that the Hargreeves canonically went to school since Allison got into the soccer team and like… iconic. where’s the breakfast club au. anyway i’m not sure this is was you wanted but here it is anyway (or on ao3 if you like that better)

As Vanya and Five talked about extensively, her sitting under his bedsheets with crossed legs and a flashlight, they couldn’t understand why Dad insisted on making them attend middle school. 

He insisted even though he didn’t approve on any of their friendships with the other kids - not Five and Vanya’s, of course, who had no friends because Five didn’t like people and Vanya was as painfully shy as she was terrible at small talk, but the others who were better than them at talking to people. He insisted even though Pogo, Grace and he could certainly teach them better than any of the people employed there. He insisted even though all the parents kept protesting due to that time a supervillain tried to murder them in their Algebra class and ruined everyone’s grade on their finals. (Five thought they were just bad at Maths. Vanya stuck through the worst of it and got a passing grade. God, he got a B+, and he was fighting the supervillain for, like, half the exam.)

Dad, of course, didn’t care much for soccer parents’ opinions, or activities for that matter - he had never been to any school event in his life, which the other parents disapproved of in hushed tones in between glasses of mimosa. In his own words, their kids were no more unsafe from supervillains than from lone gunmen and it wasn’t like the government was doing anything about the later, so why should he? The world was dangerous, and you could die any day, they should just get on with their lives, pay for some self-defense classes for their brats, some Maths tutoring while they were at it, and stop bothering him.

And that was how they got stuck in assembly, which was the single most useless thing on Earth, in Five’s opinion. (Vanya had started listing useless things to pass the time as they ignored the speech in front of them: man’s tailbone, mosquitoes leaving bites when they sucked your blood, ties, itchy sweaters, sporks. Five only corrected her accurateness for some of those.)

So it was here, in the middle of the hall, as everyone else in school sat there on uncomfortable folding chairs that made Five’s back hurt like an old man’s and pretended to pay attention, Klaus gasped dramatically and pointed at Vanya. 

That in itself was not an unusual occurrence: Klaus, after all, did everything in a dramatic way, and was known to be rude to his siblings, and so Five decided to do what he did best and ignore him. 

Klaus, on the other hand, would not let himself be ignored.“Five!” he called out.

“That’s my number, yes,” Five answered, refusing to turn around, and Vanya hid her smirk by ducking her head.

“Five,” Klaus insisted, and he grasped his hand. Five stole it away quickly, because his siblings and him were twelve now, and they didn’t do silly things like holding hands, like babies. 

Klaus pouted and tugged at his sleeve and repeated: “Fiiive.”

“This could go all afternoon, you know,” Vanya pointed out, still pretending she was not smiling. She was right, of course. Vanya often was, and this was why she was his favorite. 

In that case, she was especially more so than usual, since they were hiding in the back of the room pretending to listen to some weird lady with homemade puppets who had been invited to the assembly for mysterious purposes. Allison was on another corner of the room openly laughing with some of the other girls, but no one was going to bother her for not listening, because she was class president and popular and also could make people do whatever she wanted anyway. Luther was sitting behind her and falling asleep on Diego’s shoulder, about five minutes away from being violently shoved away - Five was watching them with riveted eyes waiting for the inevitable disaster, and Vanya pretended to think he was being terrible but also watched as if she was at the movies.

Klaus, on the other hand, was sitting with Ben right behind them, and not content with being quiet until the lady stopped talking about bullying and the dangers of cliques.

“She is right, you know,” Klaus pointed out, useless. “I am nothing if not persistent. In fact, one could say this is my real power right here.”

“Being a pain in the ass?” Five supplied, enjoying a little the way Vanya squirmed uncomfortably at the swear word. She was such a goody-two-shoes.

“Yes. That’s how I beat the Magician, you know - I just kept talking and talking and talking and talking and-”

“He threw you out?”“No, actually, he tried to kill me and set off his own trap, but you know,” Klaus shrugged. “Anyway, as I was, in fact, saying,” he inhaled before bellowing: “Fiiiii-”

Vanya clamped a hand over his mouth fast, shushing him in panic. The teacher shot them a dark look. Five did his best to look innocent (unconvincingly), and she froze like a deer in headlights, sheepish as she almost always looked. Klaus didn’t even care, and instead licked Vanya’s hand, prompting a disgusted eww and her taking it off and pouting as she wiped it on her blazer. She didn’t punch him, because she was Vanya and she didn’t shove her siblings nearly as much as they shoved each other, so Five took it upon himself and kicked his chair. The teacher decided to move on. A wise woman. 

“Stop being a jerk, Klaus,” Ben said absently, turning the next page on his book. He had taken it out about five minutes into the speech and had not been reprimanded by any teacher, because he was everyone’s favorite, and rightfully so, but still - unfair.“

Thank you so much for the help, Number Four,” Five said.

“You’re welcome.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I know.”

“What did you want to tell us, Klaus?” Vanya said in a whisper that was very much like a plea.

Klaus pouted. “He’s not even listening to me.”

“When am I ever?” Five said before he added when Vanya narrowed her eyes at him: “What is up with you then, Klaus?”

“Loads of things,” Klaus said most unhelpfully. “I have a very fascinating life and I’m full of insights.”

“No he doesn’t,” Ben interrupted.

“What do you know about it, tentacle boy?” Klaus snapped, but Ben only smirked. “Anyway, I was thinking-”

“Dangerous pastime,” Five said. Vanya chuckled quietly.

“-because, you know, I was sitting right behind you, and I was trying not to pay attention to creepy puppet lady because I met her eye and I swear to god she winked at me-”

“In your dreams, maybe,” Ben quipped. 

“-which is scandalous since I’m saving myself for our Lord and savior Jesus Christ, thank you very much. Who are they even letting into our schools these days? God, everything is falling apart. Anyway, as I was saying… What was I saying?”

Vanya rolled her eyes so deeply Grace would warn her about getting stuck like this, and Five tried not to laugh at the face she made.

“Yes! Five. Right,” Klaus began again. “I was looking at your backs, and, lo and behold! You finally grew taller than her. Hurray! Can I get some applause for our little brother over here? I feel like we should applaud.”

Five turned to Vanya so fast he might have gotten whiplash and - for once, Klaus wasn’t lying. He was taller than her, for the first time since forever. Not that Five cared about petty business like that, except for how he did and he couldn’t shake the elation as his sister glanced up and down at him and grimaced in displeasure. (She used to be taller than all of them before they turned ten and Luther, Diego, Allison and Klaus started outgrowing her. Five and Ben still trailed behind. It was becoming embarrassing.)

Even then he just shrugged lazily and said: “Yeah, and?”“Come on, you can’t pretend you’re not happy about it.”

“Unlike you, Klaus, I don’t care about your nonsense, because I’m not a baby.”

“We’re literally all the same age,” Vanya pointed out. 

“I was obviously talking about a metaphorical baby.”

“Well, you’re a metaphorical jerk,” Klaus said, trying very hard not to sound whiny even though he totally was.

“Oh, that’s very clever-”

“Guys,” Vanya complained. “If you don’t stop talking so loud the teachers are going to yell at us-”

“So what? What are they gonna do? We saved this city, like, three times,” Klaus said, propping both his arms behind his chair lazily and starting to rock it. 

“I didn’t,” Vanya said, voice very small and entirely too bitter for a twelve-year-old.

“I’m so sorry, but that sounds like a you problem,” Klaus said, shrugging. 

At that, Vanya looked down and bit her lip and sat very still on her chair. Ben elbowed their brother in the ribs with a disapproving frown, which was probably meant, as Five would reason later, to prompt him to apologize to Vanya for hurting her feelings so callously, but only made him yelp very loudly in the middle of the hall and fall from his rocking chair in a tumble of lanky limbs. 

Somewhere on the other side of the room a very similar yelp and a very similar tumble of limbs echoed just as much as Luther was violently pushed off Diego’s shoulder and woken up from his nap.

The silence that followed this was very, very heavy on Five’s back, the only sound Vanya popping open her pill bottle - then looking up at Five with a gasp and a guilty look. Maybe it was because of the other kids craning their necks to see Klaus and Luther lying on their back in improbable positions. Maybe it was the puppet lady pausing her show for them. Maybe it was the calm before the teacher fell down on them with a hand too tight on their biceps and a snarl. 

Anyway, even as their teachers berated them with threats of detentions they wouldn’t dare give out, Five couldn’t help feeling giddy. He was, after all, finally taller than Vanya.

Of course, years and years later, he would learn that Vanya would be forever stuck at her twelve-year-old height and that every one of them would grow up to tower over her. Still. It was nice at the time. 

[vampire-logic]

Rambling About My 4th-5th Grade Bully

Don’t mind me. I just need to get this out...some more.

THE STORY:

You have the option to skip this part if you already know the story.

So there was this girl I knew in elementary school, until the middle of junior high. Let’s call her Regina George.

So Regina was a girl in my math class who hated my guts, despite me doing pretty much nothing to her. I guess she hated me because I was annoying (since let’s face it, I was VERY annoying) and caused a lot of drama during class.

Regina went from quietly glaring at me during my drama-queen moments, to saying mean comments to me. That turned into us hating each other. Then, it turned into her purposely bumping into me before we went out to recess.

One time she bumped into me (back then I thought she “elbowed” me but she bumped into me) and I had enough. I went up to her and I told her I wasn't going to let her elbow me anymore. Then she had a mental lightbulb go off in her head. From that day forward, every time she saw me and was near me, she would purposely hit me with her elbow while “casually walking by”. I would tell the adults at recess every day, but none of them believed me, claiming that Regina was an “angel” and that she’d never hurt anyone.

One day, she did get caught in the act. But it wasn’t me who told on her. See, after so many failed attempts at getting the adults to fucking believe me, I had given up because it was never going to happen. Regina did her usual “passing by Jess so I can elbow her in the back” routine, and some other kid saw it and told one of the adults, who then punished Regina. Then, everyone (including the adults) yelled at me for “not saying something”. That still baffles me to this day.

Then 5th grade started, and I decided to apologize to Regina for anything I did that caused her to hate me. She responded without really any words, but then when I was looking for something to do during recess, she ran up to me, but then I ran away because for some reason I thought she was gonna hit me. She chased me around saying “WAIT I JUST WANT TO TALK TO YOU” but I didn’t listen. She gave up.

I guess that...made her not like me more, because she then continued with her “be mean to Jess and then get out of it by acting innocent” routine from 4th grade. We annoyed each other for most of the year, I’m sure, but I don’t actually remember all that much until Spring. I just remember that we had math class together again, and we glared at each other every day.

Springtime comes, and a new part of the playground has been added which was mostly just a lot of slides (But I LOVED it!). I went to that new playset everyday...unfortunately, so did Regina, so she thought I was following her around. One day, while I was chilling, she decides to chase me around the playground and kick dirt with little woodchips at me. This became a routine...I’d go to the playground, she’d find me, and then chase me around while kicking dirt at me. I told the adults, and just like the year before, they didn’t believe a word I said. They instead believed Regina, who claimed that I was the one chasing her and kicking the stuff at her. They would then tell me to leave her alone.

One day, when trying to tell the adults (again), they said “I will do something about it if I see her actually doing it.” So naturally, that gave me the little kid logic of “I have to make her do it so that they’ll see!”. So one day, I did just that. I decided to annoy her to the point of chasing me again, and all of this was just to get Regina caught in the act. Which, she did get caught, but...the adult also saw me picking on her and making her do that, so I was the one who got in trouble, not Regina. To be totally honest, I probably deserved it. I’m not proud that I did that.

But then, every time I would try to tell the adults what happened whenever Regina actually WAS picking on me, they NEVER believed me, instead coming up with theories that I was picking on her, because they held that one time against me. If they didn’t trust me before, they sure as hell didn’t trust me after that stunt I pulled.

Whenever Regina actually did get in trouble for picking on me, it was always someone else who told the authorities, not me. Because whenever I did it, I was always told that I was lying. Then I would be yelled at for not saying something when I had literally spent the entire last few months of the school year TRYING to say something.

It drove me nuts. Literally every day at school I was trying to come up with some kind of plan to expose Regina for the “monster” she was, and I would ramble all the time to my classmates about how mean she was. She was on my mind every single day, because of how anxious she made me. It was a bad time for me.

However, even though she was still around and was still mean to me, during 6th and 7th grade she never really picked on me much (because she never had an opportunity to), and I stopped trying to expose her because it no longer mattered. Then after 7th grade, I moved, and I haven’t seen her ever again since.

WHY AM I TALKING ABOUT THIS NOW?

...For like the 500th time XD

Well, I’m talking about it because even though I haven’t seen her since 7th grade (6 years ago), the thought of her still gives me massive anxiety, and she still shows up sometimes in my dreams for no other reason than to remind me that she exists, and that she ruined my self esteem.

But my concern is...why? I mean, it has been 6 fucking years since I’ve last seen her, and the stuff she did to me in 4th-5th grade isn’t even that traumatic, and yet...for some reason it IS traumatic to me? I guess because it happened every day, and there was nothing I could really do because nobody ever believed me.

Most of the time, when she shows up in my dreams, it’s always me apologizing to her for being a burden enough for her to pick on me, and then us making up. I don’t know why this is...maybe because I feel like it’s all my fault? Maybe it actually is my fault she bullied me...I feel like it is, but other than that one time (or maybe I’ve done it a few times, and I’m forgetting) I don’t recall it ever being my fault. But maybe my subconscious feels different...maybe I’m the bully?

Other times, it’s just her being there for no fucking reason other than to be there and haunt me. My most recent dream about her, I went back in time to 5th grade and she was there...just glaring at me. Glaring at me with those beady little eyes that I fucking hated...giving me that forever judgemental look, that will always stick in my brain, and will never go away no matter how much I want it to.

I’m so sick of her. Like, not physically considering that I’ve not seen her in 6 years, but mentally. I’m sick of her coming into my dreams unannounced to either guilt trip me into feeling like I’m at fault for what happened, or just to judge me, as if I’ve not had enough of that.

I’m sick of seeing her fucking face in my dreams, and I’m sick of said dreams reminding me that all of that shit happened in the past, therefore making me think about her, therefore giving me anxiety.

I don’t even know why this is such a big deal. Compared to other bullying stories, what she did was nothing. Yet it stays traumatic in my mind. Why? Why does it have to be this way? Why can’t she just get out of my brain?

She’s out of my life, I never have to see her again, and yet...I can’t get her out of my head.

Anyways..I guess I’m done rambling for now. I’m sorry about this, I just...needed to get this off my chest.