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supernovafics · 4 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 (𝟏)

PART ONE | PART TWO

pairing: singledad!steve harrington x divorcedmom!fem!reader

word count: 9.4k words

summary: in which you hate him and he hates you— and that mutual disliking is perhaps the only thing you and him agree on. you make it your mission to avoid and ignore steve at all costs, and nothing more or less than withering stares and annoyed eye rolls are shared among you both whenever you have to see each other, which luckily isn’t that often. but when your son and his daughter end up in the same first-grade class and quickly become friends, it forces things to change between you two. it means that you and him also have to be friends, or, at the very least, tolerate each other’s presence. which is something that is much easier said than done

warnings: modern!au, enemies (to friends) to lovers, steve and reader are in their late 20s/early 30s, bestfriend!eddie, mentions of cheating/an affair (reader’s ex was an absolute asshole), explicit language, some angst

author’s note: i had the idea for this lil two part mini series (and have been working on it on and off) for like a thousand years at this point and i'm so glad and excited that it's finally free from the jail cell that is my google docs lol. i really really wanted to finish this and have it up before this year was over, so part two is coming new year's eve<3333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

For the first time in the past two weeks, you were early. Granted it was only by two minutes, but you still counted that as a win.

You stepped out of your car and headed to where the other parents were on the sidewalk, waiting for school to be over and the kids to come out. You inwardly ran through the list of things that you still had to do today— on a Friday that should’ve been calm, but instead, it had been pretty hectic.

It felt like pure luck that you were able to step away from your coffee shop for thirty minutes to pick up Oliver from school. God bless Jude for being willing to take over the rush that was happening. She was your favorite employee, and you knew that she definitely deserved a raise for being able to effectively keep up with the insanity that the last two weeks brought.

That transition from summer into the beginning of the new school year was harder than you had anticipated, and you knew it was mainly because this time last year you weren’t running a business full-time when Oliver had been starting Kindergarten. Instead, the coffee shop was still just an idea, a dream, that felt like it solely lived in your head; even though it had actually been in its final stages, and with each passing day, you only got closer and closer to that October opening date. And when the long-awaited opening finally came, it actually didn’t alleviate an ounce of your stress; instead, it was only increased practically tenfold.

You’d never say it out loud for fear of being deemed as a bad mom, but it was so fucking hard juggling everything and trying to handle it all.

However, somehow, you were doing it and you were actually doing it pretty well. Although at most times it felt like you were so close to drowning, for the time being, your head was completely above water.

You kept running through your mental to-do list as you waited for the time to go from 2:29pm to 2:30pm, indicating the official end of the school day.

Call the vendors that supply the coffee beans and teas and see if they can change the next delivery date, finalize the work schedule for next week, prep the ingredients for the pastries that will be baked tomorrow—

Your eyes instinctively went to check the time on your watch right as the first handful of kids came barreling out of the front doors.

When you saw Olly, you waved until his eyes landed on you and he immediately smiled.

Suddenly, you couldn’t care less about the time and the rest of the shit that you needed to do throughout the day.

“I made a new friend!” Were the first words he said to you when he came over to where you stood.

“That’s awesome!” You kneeled down so that you were pretty much at eye level with him. Hearing him say that made your heart feel so happy. You knew how shy he could be and he rarely ever talked about any kids that he was friends with, especially not with this much enthusiasm. “Who is it?”

“Maddie,” He answered and then pointed in the direction of where you assumed the girl was standing.

There were a handful of kids standing with their parents in the direction Olly was pointing to about ten or fifteen feet away, but when he further specified that she was “the girl holding the blue lunchbox,” you saw her. A girl with brown hair who was smiling at her dad who was smiling back at her and holding a hand up so that she could give it a high five.

You recognized him immediately.

In your mind, his name was “the worst person in the world.” In reality, his name was Steve Harrington.

You didn’t really pay attention to him until this past January because your kids weren’t in the same Kindergarten class. You actually didn’t even learn that he was the only other single parent in the grade until then.

It was one of your New Year’s resolutions to become more active and involved in school activities, PTA meetings, etc. Mainly because you knew that the other Kindergarten moms were judging you for barely doing anything aside from the occasional bake sale and the school was way too small for you to slip under the radar and not be noticed; those moms noticed everything.

Therefore, on the first meeting back after the Winter holiday break, you were there— five minutes late, but there nonetheless. Although, it could’ve been assumed that everyone thought you were an hour late with the amount of withering looks you received when you entered the gymnasium.

You offered a small apologetic smile and made a mental note to never be even a minute late again.

Leslie, the PTA president, was droning on and on about what big things were planned for the second half of the school year— somehow dragging out a short list of things that you thought could’ve been simply sent out in a mass email— when Steve walked in fifteen minutes after you. You fully expected him to receive the same type of annoyed looks that you had gotten, and maybe even more because he showed up later than you, but he got nothing but happy smiles from the majority of the moms.

That complete opposite reaction severely confused you and you wondered how he was able to receive such niceness when all you got was the coldest of shoulders.

Meeting after meeting it was continuously proven that he was the favorite among the moms, and it didn’t take you too long to learn why. He was a charmer, which everyone absolutely loved, and he seemed to effortlessly throw money at any school activity or fundraising event, another reason why he was so goddamn adored.

You were probably the only one that didn’t give a fuck about his charming personality, and instead, you would inwardly roll your eyes or scoff at pretty much anything he’d say and how easily the moms ate it up. Because when you really looked at it, you two were pretty much doing the same exact things— only moderately participating in events, showing up to the big monthly meetings instead of the weekly ones (and he was still always late to them), and not signing up for fields trips or activities that happened during school hours because of how overly demanding your jobs were; you’d learned from one particularly chatty mom that he worked at a pretty intense marketing firm. However, there was such a stark difference in treatment because he was the “hot single dad that gave a lot of money;” all of the moms practically fell at his feet and seemed to only tolerate you.

Maybe it was a hint of jealousy talking, but he still always managed to piss you off and you didn’t like him at all. It was an animosity that was perhaps just one-sided, and you hated yourself for caring so much, but that changed in April; during a moment where if the circumstances were different, it would’ve felt like some sort of romcom-esque “meet cute.” But, you basically despised Steve, so instead the whole situation just made your blood boil.

It was a Thursday at almost five o’clock during parent-teacher conference week; it was the only day that could work in your insanely busy schedule and you managed to get the latest time slot with Oliver’s teacher. You were pacing in the hallway where all three of the Kindergarten classrooms were; a coffee in one hand, because it was the only thing keeping you going that late in the day, and your phone in the other as you texted back an employee who was having problems with the oven. You were seconds away from calling him— because you knew that the issue would probably be solved quicker if you did so— but before you could, you were bombarded by someone who was quickly coming around the corner and they crashed into you. The abrupt collision was forceful enough to make your drink spill on you and your phone slip out of your hand.

You glanced down at your now coffee-stained white shirt and then up at the person who had caused this mess, and of course, it was Steve Harrington standing in front of you. You had to fight the immediate urge to roll your eyes.

“Oh, shit. My bad,” He quickly said. “I’m minutes away from being late for my parent-teacher meeting, so I was rushing from the parking lot. Now it really does make sense why teachers always said no running in the halls, right? Because something like this can happen.” As he rambled, you picked up your phone off the ground, glad that it wasn’t broken, and then you tossed your now mostly empty coffee cup into the trash can nearby. When you looked back at him, you saw that he was fishing his wallet out of his back pocket. “Anyway, maybe I can pay for your dry cleaning? Or so you can at least get another coffee later or tomorrow?”

If it had been anyone else, you would’ve thought that the gesture was nice. But, since it was coming from Steve Harrington it only pissed you off because, of course, money was his immediate thought solution.

That time it was too difficult to not allow yourself to roll your eyes at him. “Y’know, throwing money at everything doesn’t make you a good dad. It actually makes you kind of an asshole.”

You knew that you were being a little too harsh, but it was still too hard to feel completely regretful about your words; you were pissed at this current situation that was fully caused by him and you were also pissed simply because he was him.

You weren’t sure what you expected Steve to respond with, but he easily matched your angry energy. He narrowed his eyes at you. “Well, at least, I can do something. You barely show up to things and can’t give money to make up for it, so how much of a ‘good mom’ does that make you?”

Before you could say anything in response to that— a response that probably would’ve started and ended with a simple “Fuck you”— you heard your name being called from behind you by Oliver’s teacher. With everything happening with the man in front of you right then, you’d almost forgotten the meeting you were at the school for in the first place.

Instead of saying anything to Steve, you simply buttoned up the black cardigan you were wearing to cover the majority of the coffee stain on your shirt and then walked away from him, putting on a smile and greeting Miss Wilson.

It wasn’t outwardly stated right then, but it was pretty much sealed then that this disliking could no longer be confused for being something that was one-sided. You two hadn’t said any words to each other since that moment in the hallway, and instead only annoyed looks and glares were shared anytime you saw one another; which lucky for you, actually wasn’t too frequent.

On the first day of school, you learned that his daughter was in the same First Grade class as Oliver due to the emergency contact form all the parents had to fill out, which was then condensed into one sheet and shared among everyone for “just in case” purposes, and Steve’s name and number was on there. You really didn’t think it would be that big of a deal because you could still avoid him like the plague that he was, and that was exactly what you’d been doing for the last two weeks.

However, you did not think that your kids would become friends.

“Can we have a playdate tomorrow?” Oliver asked.

You racked your brain for a response; a way to say no without actually saying it because you really did hate disappointing him. “Oh, um, this weekend is gonna be really busy. But, maybe soon though, okay?”

He frowned a bit but still nodded. “Okay.”

You held out your hand so that he could slip his in and then you started heading to your car.

“We have to go back to the coffee shop for a few more hours before we can go home. But, how does pizza for dinner tonight sound?” You asked as you buckled him in his car seat. The offer was an attempt to cheer him up and you hoped it worked; probably like every other six-year-old, Oliver loved pizza.

He smiled at that. “Ooh, yeah, that’s good.”

You smiled back at him and inwardly hoped that this playdate idea would blow over over the next few days. And that the thought of you having to spend any sort of willing time with Steve Harrington would become a scary thought that only occasionally haunted your dreams, instead of it being something that actually became real.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Of course, it did not blow over.

Excuse after excuse would fall from your lips, but Olly was determined and your words of “Today’s really busy” or “This weekend probably won’t be good” didn’t discourage him from continuing to ask.

As the days came and went and a week passed with Olly asking the same question each day, you were so close to sucking it up and calling Steve and finally setting something up, but you were still way too fucking prideful to do so.

That didn’t stop you from thinking about doing it most days, though. But it was easier not to think about it when you were busying yourself at the coffee shop, and it was almost too easy to make yourself busy in some way there. And that was something that didn’t change on this Friday.

Oliver was sitting in his favorite booth working on homework and you were behind the counter, making a simple hot chocolate for the older woman who would come in almost every afternoon, typically around four o’clock.

“Enjoy,” You said with a smile as you handed her the drink.

Things in the coffee shop were calm and quiet, and you were about to go see if Oliver needed any help with the worksheets he was doing, but then your phone started vibrating in your back pocket. When you grabbed it, you saw that it was a random number calling, and maybe you should’ve thought about that fact more before answering, but you didn’t.

“Hello?”

“Has Oliver asked to have a playdate with Madeline?” You quickly recognized Steve’s voice.

You let out a small sigh. “At least once a day since last Friday.”

“Same here with Maddie,” Steve said and then let out a sigh of his own. “We need to let this happen. I don’t think either of them are gonna let it go.”

At first, you didn’t say anything in response to his words. You wanted to disagree with Steve, but you knew that you couldn’t because it was the truth. And then there was the fact that every time you gave some sort of fake excuse to Olly, you would feel like the worst parent ever, so maybe it would be best to just finally let this happen. “You’re right. Are you free tomorrow?”

“Yes,” He answered. “We can just do a quick thing at the park if that’s good?”

That was exactly what you were about to suggest, but you didn't tell him that. “Yeah, that’s fine. Is twelve okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Steve didn’t say anything in response to you and instead simply ended the call there. The lack of an actual goodbye almost made you want to roll your eyes in annoyance, but you didn’t because you knew that you probably would’ve done the same thing to him.

You put your phone back in your pocket and walked over to the two-person booth Oliver was sitting at, sliding in across from him. “Hey, bud, I have really fun news. You and Maddie are finally gonna have your playdate tomorrow.”

Seeing the elated grin immediately take over his face made the fact that you’d be spending a few hours with Steve Harrington tomorrow worth it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You never thought you’d witness a moment where Steve was actually on time for something, but for once he was. When you pulled into the small parking lot of the park, you already saw him sitting on one of the wooden benches that surrounded the playground watching Maddie go down a slide.

Moments after the car was put in park, Oliver was unbuckling himself and rushing to get out so that he could head over to where Maddie was. You could only smile at his enthusiasm before telling him to slow down and be careful.

You took your time walking over to where Steve was because of how much you were dreading it, and for a moment you debated whether or not you should sit next to him or go to the bench that was empty and a few feet away. Ultimately, you decided to just sit next to him; you could be civil for a couple of hours.

“Hi,” You said as you sat down on the wooden bench.

He looked at you just for a second before turning back to the playground. “Hey.”

“How are you?” You asked. It was always easy to go into the mundane small talk you’d have all day with customers; aside from the ones that were the regulars that you knew too well and couldn’t simply ask how they were doing without actually meaning it.

“Good,” Steve responded. “You?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You answered with a small nod.

A silence that could only be deemed as awkward began to linger in the air because it felt as if there was absolutely nothing else to say. If he was a customer, you would’ve simply taken his order and he would have walked away by now, but obviously, this wasn’t that kind of interaction. The only sound that could be heard was the handful of other parents with their children and your own kids looking happier than ever.

It could’ve been easy for you to make some joke to Steve about how weird this entire situation felt because of how much animosity you had toward each other and now there you two were on a sort of playdate of your own because of your kids. And then the two of you would have laughed about this current set of circumstances, and maybe that would’ve allowed things to actually start to feel somewhat okay. But, it just felt way too hard to let yourself actually be civil toward him, even though you had told yourself that you would be.

“I’m very surprised you’re actually on time for something. After all the PTA meetings, I thought you were incapable of it,” You said, still staring straight ahead as you then took a sip from the water you had in your hand.

“And you’re late, which is not surprising,” He told you with a small scoff.

Aside from that first time you had been late for the meeting, there was one other time where you were late again and, of course, that was also the one time where Steve managed to be a little bit earlier than you. Given that he had been late countless times, you felt that it was both stupid and unwarranted for him to use the single time he saw you late against you.

“Whatever,” You said as you rolled your eyes. “Not that I even owe you an explanation for being only five minutes late today, but the coffee shop was starting to have a rush right before me and Olly were about to leave, and I didn’t want to leave my employee right then to completely fend for himself.”

“That’s interesting because every time I drive by the place, it looks the complete opposite of busy.”

Perhaps this entire conversation immediately taking the shittiest turn was your fault because you “fired the first shot,” but his words felt equivalent to a low blow. You pretended as if you were completely unaffected by them and tried your hardest not to recognize the slight validity behind them— the coffee shop had its peak times and also its deserted moments, and maybe sometimes it did feel a bit more deserted than not, but you were surviving and right then that was all that mattered you.

You glared harshly at him although he wasn’t even looking back at you. Muttering a “Fuck you” was right on the tip of your tongue, but you bit it back and instead got up from the bench and started moving to an empty one. Steve didn’t say anything else to you and instead seemed completely unfazed by you walking away from him.

You watched Oliver and Maddie talking and laughing at the top of a slide that was big enough to fit both of them and they went down it together. Seeing how happy Olly was and knowing that this was the first friend he actually wanted to spend time with outside of school, made dealing with Steve’s bullshit right then completely okay with you.

When two o’clock rolled around, you were waving Oliver over to you, much to his dismay.

“I know it’s time to go, but can we all get food together?” He asked when he walked over to you.

For once, the excuse for saying no that you were about to tell him wasn’t a made-up one. “We gotta go pick Eddie up from the airport, remember? Also, he told me that he has a bunch of cool stuff to give you from California.”

“Oh, yeah,” Oliver said, a smile taking over his face. “I almost forgot he was coming today.”

He went over to where Maddie was now standing with Steve and he gave her a quick hug goodbye before running back over to you.

Instead of giving any sort of verbal goodbye to Steve, you simply gave him a small wave. It was hard to wrap your head around the fact that you’d now probably have to see him more often than not. With how happy Oliver and Maddie looked playing together, you knew that today definitely wouldn’t just be a one-time thing.

Somehow with the wave Steve gave back to you, you could tell that he knew that too.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You were in no way related to Eddie Munson, but he felt more like family than your actual family.

He was the first person you met when you moved to Hawkins three years ago. After going through a messy divorce that felt like it had actively taken at least ten years off of your life, it felt so goddamn nice to immediately make a friend in this town that was completely new to you.

Coming from Chicago, a city that had always felt way too big for you, any small town sounded perfect in your eyes, and you were able to find a cheap-ish house in Hawkins, so it was the winner.

You met Eddie at a grocery store a week after you’d moved in. It was also your birthday, a fact that three-year-old Oliver didn’t fail to tell Eddie when you accidentally bumped into him— quite literally crashed your cart into the guy— in the bread aisle.

“Happy birthday,” He had said to you and you gave him a small smile before proceeding to say another sorry for bumping your cart into him. He then looked at Oliver. “Are you gonna bake a birthday cake for her?”

Oliver visibly brightened and turned to you. “Ooh, yeah, can we bake a cake?”

“Sure,” You nodded and smiled at his eagerness.

He smiled widely and then looked back at Eddie. “Can you come over and help us make it?”

“Oh, um…” Eddie’s eyes met yours to see what you wanted him to say.

“You can, if you want,” You told him and you genuinely meant your words. He seemed normal, and even though this was a small town, he was the first person who had been so outwardly nice to you and Olly.

“Okay, yeah, I’d love to help,” He said with a nod. “I’m Eddie, by the way.”

You told him your name and then gestured to Olly. “And this is Oliver.”

“Sorry for suggesting this idea and contributing to the sugar high that will probably be happening tonight,” Eddie told you as you moved to the next aisle where all of the baking stuff was, you were giving Oliver full reign over what cake mix you got.

“Apology not accepted,” You responded but still smiled at him.

Many hours later, when the cake was baked and Oliver was tucked away in bed after having two pieces of it, you pulled out a bottle of wine for you and Eddie to drink. And then because of the wine and because of the fact that birthdays always managed to bring something severely melancholic out of you, you started crying to him about your divorce that had just been finalized, the affair that your husband had with his coworker being the catalyst for said divorce, and how you felt so weirdly alone in this new town but also not at all alone because you had Oliver.

Somehow none of that managed to scare him away— even though you would’ve been completely understanding if it had— and a friendship had been cemented ever since.

Eight months ago, he moved to California because of a huge opportunity he got with his music; it was something he had been waiting for for so many years. You had called it a “big break,” but he thought that sounded too pretentious.

You hadn’t really wanted him to leave, he was your best friend— your only friend in this town— but you were also so happy for him. And the distance actually managed to feel somewhat okay because you two would talk all the time and he’d visit every few months.

Oliver especially didn’t mind the distance because whenever Eddie did come back to Hawkins for a visit, it always meant that he’d get some cool new toys from him. And this time proved to be no different.

The three of you were in the coffee shop. It was quiet right then— you didn’t think about Steve’s words from earlier— and you watched Eddie smile at Oliver as he animatedly talked about something, you assumed he was telling Eddie about Madeline.

Moments later, Eddie walked over to where you stood behind the counter, beginning the clean-up process because you were closing in about an hour.

“It’s really nice seeing how fucking– I mean fudging,” He turned around to see if Oliver heard what he’d just said, but Olly was too busy playing with his new red toy car to hear anything. “Happy he is. All he’s been doing is rambling about his new friend.”

“Yeah, it’s really great,” You said, smiling as you thought about how happy he had been at the park earlier. You then thought about Steve and inwardly sighed. “Well, for the most part.”

“Why? Is she a bad influence or something? I didn’t think there could be bad influences in first grade,” Eddie said and then laughed a bit. “Actually, scratch that, I was definitely a bad influence in first grade.”

An amused look crossed your face. “You talk a lot about this “bad boy persona” you used to have, but I don’t know if I really believe it because all I see is a guy that actually enjoys buying toys for a six-year-old.”

He smiled at that. “I changed. Turned over a new leaf.”

“Mhm, got it,” You responded, your voice slightly sarcastic because it was still hard to imagine Eddie as anything other than the nice guy who baked a cake with you and Oliver on your birthday. “Anyway, though, it’s not the girl that’s the problem; she’s really sweet and nice. It’s her parent that’s the worst person in the world.”

Eddie nodded. “Okay, tell me all about this mean mom drama.”

“It’s a dad, actually,” You said and then started explaining everything that you had never said aloud before. You told Eddie all of it— how Steve was so easily able to throw money at anything the school needed, how he was basically treated like a King among the other moms because of that, the incident that happened last year during parent-teacher conference week where everything between you two fully came to a head, and the shitty conversation you had with him at the park only hours earlier.

“Wow, I’ve missed a lot. I can’t believe you have a nemesis, and I also can’t believe you never told me about him.”

“He’s the last thing I ever want to think about, let alone talk about. If it wasn’t for Oliver becoming friends with his daughter, you wouldn’t be hearing about him. Also, I feel like “nemesis” is a bit of an exaggeration.”

“I can call him your mortal enemy, if you want,” Eddie said with a teasing smile and you only rolled your eyes in response, refraining from flipping him off. “What’s his name? Maybe I know him. Aside from you, people rarely ever move to this town for fun, so he’s probably been here his whole life.”

You actually never thought about the potential of Eddie knowing Steve, although it was completely plausible given the reason your friend just mentioned.

“Steve Harrington.”

“Oh.”

From Eddie’s reaction, the answer to your next question seemed pretty obvious but you still decided to ask it. “You know him?”

“Yeah, we were in high school at the same time.”

“Okay, what was he like?”

“All the typical high school stuff. He was a popular guy, played sports, was kind of a jerk but pretty much all of the girls still loved him.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “That sounds very accurate.”

“By the end of it, though, he seemed like somewhat of a changed guy. Got his heart broken by the nice girl, and then became friends with actual good people,” Eddie told you, and that was the one part of his description of the Steve that he had known that managed to actually surprise you. “I didn’t know he had a kid now.”

“Yup, and he’s also changed back into the jerk that you originally knew him as in high school,” You said. “And the most fuc— fudged up part of it all is that we should be friends. Which probably makes me sound crazy because of everything I just said, but it’s true. Me and him are basically in the same boat— the only single parents in the grade, we both have time-consuming jobs, and now even our kids are friends with each other. It would just make sense if we were actually friends too.”

“I mean, you still could be, right?”

You immediately shook your head. “Wrong. There’s no way that could ever happen.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The rest of September and most of October flew by with what felt like an abrupt kind of quickness.

Absolutely nothing changed between you and Steve, even with Eddie’s idea that maybe it could. The only time the two of you talked to each other was if it involved your kids and if you were setting up the day and time for another park playdate, which quickly managed to become a weekly thing because of how adamant Oliver and Madeline were— just like you assumed they’d be.

It may have seemed a little weird, these brief conversations you’d have with one another that were nothing more and nothing less than transactional, but it worked perfectly for you two.

“This weekend is gonna be pretty busy for me, so is tomorrow after school good?” You asked Steve. A PTA meeting had just ended and you and him were lingering by the same exit that the kids would come out of when school was over.

You were pretty close to not showing up to this Thursday night meeting, but you knew that you had to because it was about the Winter Carnival happening in December. It was a huge event that would be an “all hands on deck” kind of situation, which was why they talked about it so far in advance and why attendance at any meeting discussing it was pretty much mandatory.

Steve shook his head at your question. “I have this big work thing tomorrow, so I have to pick up Maddie and then drop her off at the babysitter before rushing back to the city.”

You nodded understandingly at his words. A part of you knew that you should have left it at that, because you tried to set something up and that should’ve been more than enough of an effort, but instead, you found yourself saying, “I can pick her up and take the two of them to the park tomorrow if you want.”

Steve was quiet and your words simply lingered in the open air. You almost regretted making the suggestion because you felt as if he was somehow going to find a way to be a dick about it, but then he looked at you curiously, and another look that you couldn’t decipher crossed his face too as he said, “You sure?”

You nodded at him. “Yeah, it’s really no problem.” And it honestly wasn’t a problem in the slightest; Madeline was the sweetest girl ever. She reminded you nothing of Steve, so you assumed that she got her personality from her mom; you still had no idea what that entire situation entailed. “What time will you be done with work?”

“Hopefully around five or six,” He answered. There was still that look on his face, which you still couldn’t tell what it said, but you really wanted to know.

“Okay, after the park, I can take them back to my house and you can pick Maddie up from there when you’re done with work,” You said, only a little surprised at how easily this idea came together. “Olly’s been wanting to show her his new fish, anyway.”

“Yeah, I think she’s mentioned his fish to me probably a thousand times. It’s blue and purple, right?”

“Yeah, it’s a betta fish; Barnaby.”

“Barnaby?”

You shrugged. “I have no idea how Olly came up with that name, but I will admit that it does sound more like the name of an old sailor lost at sea rather than a fish. But, in some weird way, both of those things are actually kind of related.”

Steve laughed at that and somehow it didn’t sound the least bit mocking or condescending, it was more amused. Hearing that sound coming from him shocked you as much as it, surprisingly, made you inwardly smile.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The amount of dark clouds in the sky didn’t necessarily faze you until a raindrop hit your cheek as you sat on a park bench watching Oliver and Madeline on the playground. It was a light drizzle that transformed into something heavier in a matter of minutes and you realized that you probably should’ve been more mindful of what the weather was going to be today.

Neither of the kids really minded the rain putting an end to their time at the park though, because Oliver was happy to go home so that Maddie could finally see the fish.

They bounded up the stairs to Olly’s room the second you unlocked the front door, and you headed to the kitchen, sending a simple text to Steve in the process.

You: Had to leave the park because of the rain. We’re at my place now

At first, the lack of a response from him didn’t surprise you because it was only around four-thirty and he was probably busy. He was also Steve Harrington and he rarely ever responded to you in a timely manner.

You heard the sound of footsteps racing down the stairs and you looked up from your phone, after checking it for probably the hundredth time in the past hour, to see Olly and Maddie coming into the kitchen.

“Can you convince my dad to get me a fish?” Maddie asked as she and Olly joined you at the small dining table.

You smiled and nodded at her. “I can try.”

“Thanks,” She said, smiling back at you. “The only time I get to see any pets is at my Aunt Robin’s house. She has a golden retriever.”

“Oh, that’s really cool. What’s its name?”

“Willow. She’s a girl.”

Oliver looked at you. “Can we get a dog next?”

“Let’s just worry about Barnaby for now,” You told Olly, giving him a small smile. You could only imagine how much more hectic your life would become if you two got a dog anytime soon. “I was thinking about doing dino nuggets and french fries for you guys for dinner. How does that sound?”

They both perked up at that and nodded and you got up to turn on the oven, purposefully leaving your phone on the table because you wanted a break from impulsively checking it every few minutes. It slightly annoyed you that you heard nothing from Steve yet, and it annoyed you even more that the lack of a response felt personal. You wondered if he actually hadn’t seen your message yet, or if he was simply being an asshole and not responding with a simple “Okay” or even a thumbs up to it on purpose.

It wasn’t until the time was a little after six, and you still hadn’t heard anything from Steve, that your initial annoyance toward him not responding to you and not giving you any sort of updates on what was happening with him over the past few hours, morphed into something that resembled worry.

You walked out of the living room and into the kitchen and pulled your phone out of your back pocket so that you could call him. Your gaze moved toward the window as you pressed your phone to your ear; the weather outside still looked pretty shitty. The call went straight to voicemail and you sighed as you waited for the beep.

“Hey, um, it’s me. That’s probably very obvious. Um, anyway, you said you’d be done with work around five or six, but I haven’t heard anything from you in the last couple of hours… I hope everything’s fine. Um, any sort of update would be really nice. Call, or at least text me, whenever you get this. Okay… Bye.”

You hung up and slipped your phone back in your pocket.

It was an obvious fact that you didn’t like Steve Harrington, but that didn’t mean you wanted anything bad to happen to him.

The only thing that managed to not make you feel completely worried was that Maddie seemed okay and not worried at all. Instead, she and Olly were in the living room playing in the fort you made for them out of couch cushions and throw blankets.

You went back into the living room and sat down on the small loveseat that was the only piece of furniture that still had its cushion left.

“You guys okay in there?”

“Yup!”

“Yes!”

Hearing their chorus of happy “yeses” made you inwardly sigh in relief and lean back into the chair, letting your eyes shut just for a second and muttering to yourself that everything was and would be fine.

Your phone was still glued to your hand as you grabbed the remote with your other and turned on a random Disney movie for the kids to listen to as background noise and for you to take your mind off of Steve, even though all you were waiting and hoping for was for your phone to vibrate in your hand with a call or text from him.

You didn’t realize that you’d fallen asleep in the chair until you were startled awake by the sound of the doorbell ringing. The abruptness of it actually managed to scare you, so much so that you could immediately feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears when you opened your eyes.

The second Lilo & Stitch movie was now playing on the TV and through your half-awake haze, you found the remote to pause it. You then peeked inside the fort and saw that Olly and Maddie were asleep.

As you rubbed the slight tiredness out of your eyes and got up from the couch, you checked your phone and saw that the time was 8:11pm. The doorbell rang again as you unlocked the door and the first thing that you noticed when you opened it was that it was no longer raining, you were unsure when it had finally stopped.

“Hi.”

Seeing Steve standing in front of you managed to immediately wash away the worry you had been feeling for the last couple of hours. And it was quickly and completely replaced with the annoyance you’d initially felt. “What the hell happened?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Hearing a genuine apology come from Steve Harrington’s mouth actually managed to baffle you. “My meeting at work ran over, and there was no way to get out of it, not even for a second. And then there was a ton of traffic because of the rain, so a drive that typically only takes thirty minutes took longer than an hour. Also, I have the worst and probably oldest phone in the world because it never holds a charge anymore, and it was plugged in during the entire drive but didn’t turn on at all. So, I’m really sorry that I haven’t been able to call or text or anything. These past few hours have been hell.” He let out a sigh and then looked at you, concerned. “How’s Maddie? Is she okay?”

There were a lot of words that had been thrown at you during Steve’s ramble, but hearing his full explanation and how apologetic he was made your annoyance with him dissipate into nothing just like your worry did. Instead, you felt a little bad for him because of all the shit he had to endure in the past few hours. You pushed the door open further to fully let him in.

“She’s good. She’s okay. She and Olly are sleeping in the living room. I made them a little fort,” You told him as he walked in and you pointed to where the kids were in the living room, and he nodded when he saw the construction of couch cushions and blankets.

You looked at Steve and hesitated for a moment. You knew that this was where the goodbyes for the night should’ve started, but it didn’t feel right to have him leave just yet; he still seemed sort of frazzled and stressed about everything that happened. You started heading toward the kitchen and he followed you. “Do you maybe, uh, want something to drink?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, I have water and juice boxes,” You told him and turned around to meet his eyes, he was leaning against the small island. “It’s moments like these where it sucks being the “good influence/leading by example” parent because I can’t offer you something fun, like a soda.”

Steve laughed a bit; it still felt so foreign hearing that sound from him. “A juice box is fine. That’s probably all that lives at my house too.”

You grabbed one from the fridge and then closed it. “I hope you like apple.”

“My favorite, actually,” He said as you handed the drink to him, and you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but you didn’t have enough time to really ponder that before he completely changed the subject. “How was Maddie when you picked her up? When I told her about it this morning, she seemed excited about it and about hanging out with Oliver after school too, but was she really okay?”

You nodded at his question. “She was great. They both had fun at the park and didn’t even mind the rain because they really wanted to come here and see the fish.”

He smiled and you could see the immediate relief wash over his face. “Okay.”

“She also wants me to try and convince you to get her a fish.”

“Of course she does,” He said before taking a sip from the juice box. You had to admit, it was a little funny seeing a man wearing professional clothes, that were probably so expensive, drinking from a tiny juice box meant for little kids.

“I’m honestly kinda surprised that you pick her up every day,” You told him as you turned and went back into the fridge to pull out a water for yourself. “Given your job, I thought you’d just have a babysitter or someone pick her up most of the time. I had no idea it was half an hour away.”

“I didn’t used to do it… Her, um, her mom would,” He said and you could tell by the way he said those words that whatever happened involving Maddie’s mom was a touchy subject. It sounded similar to how you’d usually sound whenever you talked about Oliver’s dad— a little sad and a lot like you’d rather talk about anything else.

Your mind started desperately trying to think of a way to change the subject; it was what you would’ve wanted him to do for you if the tables were turned. But, before you could say the first thing that came to mind, which was, “So, I wonder if it’s gonna rain tomorrow too,” Steve started talking again.

“It had become a routine because of how hectic my job is. She’d always drop Maddie off and pick her up. But, she, uh… She left last year, so that changed everything,” He told you. You closed the fridge and turned around to face him; you forgot to grab your water but that was the last thing on your mind right then.

This conversation suddenly felt like completely uncharted territory between you and Steve because you two did not talk about touchy subjects— you and him barely talked about anything at all. But, for some odd reason, you didn’t necessarily mind the serious turn to the conversation because maybe it was a shit ton of honesty that was needed for you two to actually, finally, not dislike each other.

Steve ran a hand through his hair and pulled his eyes away from yours. He instead fixed his attention on his juice box in hand. “It happened around this time in October. She dropped Maddie off at school, but didn’t pick her up.”

Hearing him say that surprised you as much as it confused you because you had absolutely no idea that happened last year. But with how busy you’d been then, and since you weren’t friends with any of the “gossipy” moms that somehow always knew everything, it did make a little sense why you knew nothing.

“Maddie was waiting in the office for about two hours after school was over before I could get there because I was in a meeting and didn’t see the calls coming from the school. She didn’t really know what was happening, but she was still so sad and I think that somehow a small part of her did know.” He shook his head and sighed, a look that could only be deemed as melancholic crossed his face. “I never want her to feel abandoned like that again, so I always make sure to drop her off and pick her up now.”

As he said his last words, something managed to shift inside of you in a matter of a split second. Suddenly, his name was no longer “the worst person in the world” in your mind.

In all of your months of having this “nemesis relationship” — as Eddie would call it— with Steve Harrington, you never thought that your opinion of him would ever be able to change. However, in this moment of you two standing across from each other at your small kitchen island as Steve held a freaking juice box in his hand, it finally did. He was a good person, a really fucking good person.

You were able to see it so goddamn easily then— the exact ways that he and Maddie were just alike. She got her personality from him, you were now quite literally certain of it. And you immediately felt bad for ever thinking differently.

“I’m sorry about what I said last year during conference week,” You told him, suddenly ready to give him your own burst of honesty. “I was pissed that you spilled my coffee all over me, and I was even more pissed because it was you, and you annoyed me so much. Because even though we’re kind of in the same boat with the amount of “active” things we do for the school, all of the moms love you so much and I swear they hate me, and it’s just so annoying.” You let out a small sigh and then met his gaze before saying the words that you didn’t think you’d ever say to him. “Anyway, you’re a really good dad, and I’m so sorry for telling you differently.”

“I’m sorry for what I said that day too. You’re a really great mom,” He said, giving you a small smile, and it slightly shocked you how much hearing that meant to you. Aside from Eddie, you couldn’t remember the last time someone said that to you. “And I don't think the moms at school actually like me. I think they just pity me because of everything that happened, and how they basically saw it all blow up in real time. Since pre-school, Maddie’s mom was dropping her off and picking her up, and suddenly one day she was completely gone. I swear the number of times I got phone calls that were a bunch of them saying, “We’re here for you,” but they really just wanted to get the full story about what happened, was insane during those first few months.”

“Jesus, small town moms are the worst,” You said as you shook your head. “Or, at least, ours are.”

You looked away from Steve and turned around, finally going back to the fridge to grab a water. “Oliver’s dad was kind of the same way. He left too. Or maybe it’s actually not the same because I made him leave— he was having an affair with his coworker. But, he also wanted to leave and be with her, so maybe it actually is a little similar. Sorry, now I’m just rambling about that asshole,” You said and rolled your eyes at yourself. You weren’t sure why you even decided to circle the conversation back to your exes.

“Do you and Oliver ever see him anymore?” Steve asked, and when you closed the fridge and turned back to face him, you shook your head at his question.

“Not since we moved here. He does the bare minimum and sends Olly checks for his birthday and Christmas. Which I think is dumb because no kid wants a check as a present; even I would rather get an actual gift than a stupid check,” You told Steve as you opened up your water. “Does Maddie ever see her mom, or does she ever come around sometimes?”

With the way she left, you were almost certain that the answer was no, but you were still curious.

“No, she hasn’t, and I don’t think she would ever want to,” Steve answered and you gave him a small nod of understanding before he continued. “I remember about a week after everything happened, and after avoiding my many calls and texts, she finally called me. She was really apologetic about the way she decided to leave, but she said that she just couldn’t do it anymore because none of this life that we had here was making her happy, and she didn’t want me to try and convince her to stay. When she said that, it made me realize that the smallest part of me knew that this would eventually happen. Maddie was completely unexpected and our relationship had already gotten pretty bad before we found out, so neither of us was remotely ready to be parents, but we still decided to do it and try to make it all work. Right when I saw Maddie for the first time I knew that she was the best thing that ever happened to me and I couldn’t imagine my life without her, and that never changed. But, it wasn’t the same way for her mom, and sometimes it seemed like she felt the complete opposite way. So, in a way, I can understand why she knew she had to leave. I hate the way that she did it, but ultimately I understand that this wasn’t the life she wanted, and she’d never want it.” A sad smile took over his face.

“We don’t have to keep talking about this if you don’t want to,” You told him, suddenly feeling bad that you had been the one to bring the conversation back to this in the first place. “We can change the subject to anything else. Maybe the weather? I wonder if it’s gonna rain again tomorrow…”

“No, it’s okay,” Steve said. “I really never thought I’d say this because we’ve never had a real conversation before, but I think I actually like talking to you.” He shook his head at his words. “I’m sorry, that probably sounds fucked up.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I feel the same exact way. Ten minutes ago I couldn’t really stand the thought of having any sort of conversation with you, and now I feel like an idiot for hating you all this time. So, this is insanely fast progress,” You said and then immediately thought of something. “Wow, I really wish I had some alcohol for us to drink right now because us actually not despising each other anymore is a milestone that truly should be toasted to.”

Steve laughed a bit; it was nice hearing that sound after all the sad stuff that had just been shared by both of you. He raised his juice box toward you a bit. “This will have to do, I guess.”

You raised your water and “clinked” it with the juice box. “Cheers to… whatever we are now.”

It didn’t feel entirely like a friendship, but it, at least, felt like you two could actually be nice to one another and not feel pained to do so.

“Cheers to that,” Steve said with a quick nod and then finished off the rest of what was left in his small juice box. “I should grab Maddie and head home. She has dance class at eight in the morning. She hates it for the most part, but she has a recital next week and I told her that she should push through until that and then we can quit. A part of me is kind of glad that she hates it, though, because classes are insanely expensive.”

“Olly’s starting soccer at the end of the month,” You told him. “It’s for boys and girls. You should see if Maddie wants to do that.”

“If Oliver’s doing it, she’ll probably say yes.”

You nodded at that and how true it was on both sides. “I’ll text you the information.”

“Thanks,” He said and smiled.

You followed him as he walked into the living room to get Maddie. She was still fast asleep as her arms circled around his neck when he picked her up. You grabbed her bookbag that she and Oliver left by the front door and helped Steve hook one of his arms in it.

Somehow something was silently exchanged in that last look shared between you and him before you said your final goodbyes for the night, and you softly shut and locked your door behind him. It was a look that expressed that you both were glad about what happened in the past twenty minutes— the honesty-filled conversation that led to you two finally understanding one another and realizing how you were actually more alike than either of you had ever thought.

It was a realization that was simultaneously surprising and refreshing.

“Goodnight,” You said, giving him a small smile and he smiled back at you.

“Goodnight.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

let me know ur thoughts<333

PART TWO

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #dad!steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x reader smut #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things series #steve harrington series

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qc-wiggles · 6 months

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they say write what you know and what i know is academic stress and yearbook pain. so anyways it's a yearbook club au!!!!

YEARBOOK CLUB MEMBERS:

supervising teachers: gertrude and leitner. they become uncontactable like a week into the project (do they die? do they resign? tim has a running theory that they eloped.)

elias: head of yearbook club. dips unexpectedly in the middle of the entire thing (something about an optical surgery) and forces jon to take over. his dad paid for the adobe subscription they’re using

rosie: treasurer, she’s very efficient, they’ve probably exchanged like 3 emails in total and she’s gotten everything funded. knows well enough to stay out of the dumpster fire that is yearbook production otherwise

jon: de facto head of yearbook club. thinks it should have gone to sasha instead. hes a bit incompetent but plans like it’s doomsday the next week so they are always in a wealth of excel sheets. writer, editor

tim: joined partly because he wanted an excuse to get out of football fixtures. also because he is 1 out of jons 3 friends including his ex and jon asked him. he has a tiktok. marketing, editor

sasha: joined partly to impress gertrude (she’s looking for her to write her letter of recommendation as head girl in sixth form). also because she is 1 out of jons 3 friends including his ex and jon asked her. she still uses livejournal. designer, writer

gerry: sixth form, occasionally helps out with networking at gertrude’s behest. tim is a bit starstruck over him. he saves their asses many, many times

melanie and georgie: got unofficially roped in as photographers. why you ask? manuela dominguez may have the cutting edge cameras but she is simply too scary to approach. melanie has a youtube channel that all the girls and tim are apparently subscribed to.

martin: there is not one single picture of him. apparently he didn’t turn up for photo day, neither was he involved in any school events. even the people who have shared half-remembered facts about him seem to forget about him when questioned a second time. where did he go?

PLOT:

it’s the month before the yearbook is due to be sent in for production, and the team have discovered numerous issues with the draft: pictures of random people keep getting swapped over like they’ve been photoshopped, some pages are illegible and distorted unless they are physically written out in hand and scanned, one paragraph is a leitner. and nobody can find martin blackwood so they can get his picture in the yearbook. what will they do.

SIDE CHARACTERS:

annabelle cane: current head girl

mikaele salesa: somehow knows literally everyone, involved in the funding of yearbook production

mike crew: uneasy alliance with gerry in their pursuit of jurgen leitner

oliver banks: had a mental breakdown sometime during his gcses but hes fine now

david from research: nobody says it to his face but he has genuinely the most atrocious clothing choice in the entire school apart from michael shelley, and even then michael shelley makes work

grifter’s bone: the band of the school, except no one actually knows anyone who’s part of it. their shows are legendarily terrible. manuela says ambulances were phoned.

daisy and basira: prefects, currently invested in making sure yearbook club remains LEGAL and not STALKING ANY STAFF OR STUDENTS, JON

jmag: principal. boo. what a creep

julia montauk: apparently her dad went to jail. but who is she living with now? i don’t know, manuela told me. how does manuela know? julia told her in a sleepover during year 6. and she’s telling other people? wow. that’s messed up. is that old guy her grandpa? why does he carry a rifle around

jared hopworth: prejudiced gymbro, but importantly, NOT a homophobe.

the admiral: what else needs to be said

FAMOUS ALUMNI:

agnes montague (campus celebrity from literally decades ago) (her relationship with jack barnabas is mythicised)

jude perry (allegedly caused some fire-related, agnes-related events)

edwin burroughs (allegedly commited atrocities during one year’s christmas dinner)

jane prentiss (left for uni a year ago, allegedly brought many live organisms onto campus) (keeps talking about this guy called jordan)

eric delano (he did WHAT to his eyes)

MISCELLANEOUS POINTS:

daedalus crew is astronomy club

breekon and hope are the manufacturers for much of the schools equipment and stationery

jon keeps finding notes from gertrude stashed in random places about yearbook difficulties its like a fun cool treasure hunt

they cant figure out where a computer they were initially using for yearbook club is from. it says ‘ushanka’ on the bottom of the display and the keys are slightly crusty

what the hell are the drama students actually up to

#changing this later probably #talks #school au

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nylanotthere-2 · 3 months

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Jude if she had ended up in jail:

#holly black #the cruel prince #the folk of the air #jude duarte #the queen of nothing #the wicked king #cardan greenbriar #tfota

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jhnnyjstr · 4 days

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i am winning the idgaf wars when it comes to the magnus protocol bruh.

i cannot get myself to be even remotely interested in this series. im listening out of obligation (number 1 tma fan), but i end up just waiting around for those 20 minutes to end with zero interest. for there to be a sequel to the magnus archives, a podcast with a fully rounded and complete elaborate storyline, it has to justify itself. to me, tmp doesn’t justify itself.

right now, tmp feels like someone going “oh! oh you liked THIS?? you liked THIS PART of tma??? well look at THIS!!!!! this is THAT!!!!!” and it completely flops at it every time. i won’t say its shit, i’ve liked certain episodes and i enjoy some of the characters, but side by side with tma…? come on

part of the beauty of tma is that every episode felt like you were slowly uncovering a plot with the mc. not only that, but characters were gradually introduced, and supplementals didn’t even have proper full character scenes/dialogues until s3, (a little in s2). then look at tmp. the first episode is random characters ive never heard of talking all at once, and this continues for every episode until the current one. i don’t care about any of these characters, and i feel no attachment or ‘riding along with the mc’ feeling with any of them. it feels like a random group of people sprinkled in amongst a vaguely tma-ish plot.

i also hate the attempt to INSTANTLY get into the ‘ooo big background mystery’ when there absolutely hasn’t even been enough context set for that to even matter to the listener. why do i care that gwen is getting promoted? why would any of this sinister secret plot matter to me when i barely understand the way that this institution functions normally? (which i don’t even know the name of, mind you).

you could easily say “but dan!! this will be SHORTER than tma!! its 3 seasons, not 5!!!” think about what was achieved in 3 seasons of tma. by season 3, jon was in his exploration era. he was meeting mike, jude, the monster hunters, gerry, nikola, sarah, he learned about the nature of the entities, we learnt about rituals, learnt that jon wasn’t fully human anymore, hell we even met peter, and we saw elias’ ass being sent to jail!

the pace of tmp is so fast when its plot already bears so little relevance to the listener, and it doesnt help that some of these episodes are, in complete honesty, poor. i find the writing of characters and the interactions between characters rather poor already as well.

im not trying to be harsh, but this is definitely nagging at me. ive been growing fairly irritated with tmp. feel free to disagree obviously, i can see why people would be fans. but it doesn’t hold a candle to tma. im trying reaaaally hard to give it a chance, but im growing more and more disappointed/underwhelmed by the day . pllbbttfhhh . 👎

#sorry guys #im just super underwhelmed #tma #tmp #tmagp #the magnus protocol #the magnus archives #the magnus pod #tma spoilers #the magnus archives spoilers

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xenokiryu · 3 months

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The upside of your favorites being the least favorite:

The fact that you don't have to expend much energy to obtain anything of theirs and have a much easier time keeping hoarded materials BUT you also have to live with the fact that they almost get next to nothing. [Looking over at Roger with his fuckin 190 days in Cybird's Story Event jail.]

The upside of your favorites being the top favorite:

The fact that you get more content of them and more things centered around them, BUT you also have to live with the fact that your materials quickly become depleted and have to live with the fact that you'd have to be really good to get any of their rewards. [Looking over at Jude, Chev, & Gilbert for all their fans on that]

There's absolutely no winning for anyone involved at all.

Don't clown on my post, any hate about certain characters is not welcome here.

#Trezzie's rambles #ikemen series #ikevil #ikepri #ikevamp #ikesen #I think that's something we can all agree on #It's the struggle for all parties

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hannahssimblr · 3 months

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Chapter Ten (Part 2)

I have never known cold in my life like the cold of the early morning in Berlin. It’s the kind of morning that feels like the sun will never rise. The cars still have their headlights on as Claire and I haul our bags up the stairs of the U Bahn station and out onto the street for the first time. It is seven in the morning, and it is not beautiful here.

We huddle together beneath a massive BAHNHOF NEUKOLLN sign and peer through the grey in search for a familiar face. The metal barriers all around us are lined with chained up bicycles overlapping each other, and there is careless graffiti on the shutters of the electronics shop across the road from us. It isn’t open yet. Nothing is open yet, including our hostel, so we stand with our backs against the frigid metal of a cigarette machine and wait.

He’s like an otherworldly spirit when he emerges from the fog, bundled in a big black coat, breaths turning to clouds that absorb into the thick mist around him. He raises a hand in a wave, and his smile is the brightest thing for miles.

“Good morning.” Jude says. “I’m sorry I’m a bit late.” He bends down to hug me and I immediately feel my lack of sleep. I could almost sleep right here on the cushiony softness of his puffer coat with his cheek somehow still warm despite the weather.

“So this is your home.” Claire says as he gives her a hug, and he shrugs nonchalantly. “Looks like shit this morning, to be honest. It literally couldn’t be uglier, but welcome to Berlin.” He offers to carry some of our bags, and we let him. We head down an identically bleak street that’s lined with Doner Kebab takeaways, phone shops and tiny supermarkets, all closed. Jude gently tugs on the back of my collar when I try to cross the road.

“You have to wait for the green man.” He says near my ear.

I stare at him incredulously. “I know, but there’s no cars coming.”

“I don’t make the rules here.” We stand then, stupidly, waiting for the lights to change as not a single car passes us by. Then finally, it does, and we can cross.

“That was ridiculous.” I say. “What’s going to happen if I just walk? They’ll throw me in jail?”

“No, worse.” He says. “An old German woman will materialise and start scolding you from her kitchen window. Happens literally every time.”

“Hm. So they’re pretty rule bound here.”

“You’re telling me.”

Jude lives a twenty minute walk from the station in a large brutalist block of flats that is identical to all of the other brutalist blocks of flats that flank it on all four sides. I wonder how he can ever remember which is his, or how many times in his first few weeks he found himself wandering around trying to recall which block he walked out of that same morning, because I can certainly imagine that for myself.

“Oh, cats!” Claire comments as a pair of tabbys appear from the vegetation around the base of the building, one of whom starts winding her slinky body in between Jude’s ankles and mewing rather impatiently at him while the other sits watch from a short distance away. He leans down to scratch her head. “Nothing for you right now.” He says to her. “I’ll come back later on.”

“You feed these cats.” I say. Not a question, a fact.

“I’m the crazy cat man of the neighbourhood.” He admits. “But they just love me, they must know that I have a kind soul.”

“It’s because you feed them.” The tabby gives up on him and approaches me next, mouth open in a startling maw, her meow the cat equivalent of a screech. “Jesus.” I whisper.

“It’s just how she sounds.” He explains. “She’s actually a well tempered cat.”

“What’s her name?”

“I call her Main Street, because that’s where she mostly hangs out, and that one.” He points his thumb toward her noticeably more timid pair, hovering by the wheels of a parked car. “That’s Ten Feet Behind.”

“Because she’s always-”

“Yeah, ten feet behind the other cat.” He grins with chattering teeth. “Let’s go inside, it’s so damn cold.” With stiff fingers he punches in the code for the apartment and leads us into a hallway stuffed to the gills with more bikes. There is no lift, which means we have to carry our things up the stairway, winding around and around, hoping that each landing will be our last, but we keep going up until the seventh floor, where finally, mercifully, Jude lays our bags on the floor and fumbles in his pocket for his keys.

“Jonas is probably still asleep.” He warns us. “So let’s try and keep it down until he surfaces.” He gingerly opens the door to his apartment and lets us inside, and the heating is on, and my body is flooded with the kind of warmth and comfort that makes me want to curl up on that inviting green couch in the living area and fall asleep for hours.

“You two can sit down wherever.” Jude says, so we peel our coats off and leave them hanging in a closet by the door. “I’ll make something for us to eat.”

“Oh? Food?” Claire says, as she and I sink into the soft cushions of his couch. “You don’t have to make anything.”

“I’m hungry, I’m sure you’re hungry, we can eat.”

“Okay.” She says, immediately convinced, and I wind my arm with hers and rest my head on her shoulder as my eyes flutter shut with contentment. The apartment is so nice. It smells good. There is nice art on the walls that looks as though it was picked out by someone with a good eye, rather than the usual landlord special back in Dublin, which consists usually of some ancient picture of a hideous, jowled dog that was likely dug out of the bottom of a bargain pile at a car boot sale.

I can’t believe that this morning I was in Dublin, and now I’m in a different country. I’m really in Berlin. I’m in Jude’s house. He’s cooking breakfast. It feels like something that would only happen in my head, but I keep opening my eyes to make sure that it’s real, and finding out that it is. After a while I peer over the back of the couch, and he has his back to me, whisking eggs in a bowl, and I read the spines of the cookbooks stacked neatly by the hob. Ottolenghi. Samin Nosrat. Grace Young. There are no books with unsophisticated titles like One Pot Wonders or Meals in Minutes! His are specific cuisines. Middle eastern food, Japanese food, North African, Italian, Chinese, French. I prop my chin on my hand and regard him with fresh interest. “I didn’t know you cooked.”

He glances over his shoulder at me. “Of course.”

“I mean that I didn’t know that you cooked cooked, as in, more than just improvised tomato pasta and shepherd’s pie from a container.”

He chuckles. “I seem like I enjoy food from containers, do I?”

“Not particularly, I just never thought about it.”

He takes a serrated knife to a hunk of soft bread and cuts off several thick slices. “I’ve always liked to cook. I had to do it a lot when my parents were too busy to make dinner for my sister, it all kind of fell on me, and I grew to like it a bit, I suppose. Luckily. There’s not much that beats the taste of something you made yourself. When it’s good, I mean.”

He casually drunks a slice of bread into the beaten eggs with one hand and fires up the gas stove with the other. “Weird that you never knew that about me, honestly.”

“I suppose it never came up.”

“Hm. Well, surprise.”

The door from an adjoining room suddenly opens, and I glance around to see a very broad, bare chested man emerge from the darkness of his bedroom. “Hello” He says groggily. “What smells good?”

Claire, who had drifted into a shallow sleep before, regards him suddenly with wide, shocked eyes. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, looking like a viking, with blonde hair the length of his shoulders and messed up on one side to suggest that he sleeps on his right.

“Oh.” He says when he notices us on the couch. “Hello ladies.” He steps in front of us so that we’re just about eye level with his crotch and extends a hand for Claire to shake, then me. “I don’t need introductions. I know that you’re Claire, and you’re Evie.” He points his thumb at himself. “I’m Jonas.”

Jude peers at him from the kitchen. “Yeah, they’re pleased to meet you, Jonas, can you put trousers on please.”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Okay! If you want.” and goes back into his room.

“Oh my god.” Claire says under her breath. I can’t tell whether she’s appalled or impressed, but she’s wide awake now.

Jude starts dealing out plates at the counter, and we get up to take our seats as he carefully places a slice of perfectly golden French toast in front of us. He takes a bowl of fresh berries out of the fridge, along with some sort of mascarpone cheese cream, and slides a jar of maple syrup across the counter into my waiting hand. “Enjoy.” He says, and stands on the other side of the counter to eat his the way that Italians drink espresso, al banca. He stabs his fork into the centre of the toast and swipes the knife across it. He’ll have it all eaten in ten seconds, but Claire and I will savour every delicious mouthful.

“Sorry about the berries.” Jude says eventually. “They’re off-season.”

“Oh God, no, we don’t mind that.” Says Claire. “It’s actually so good, this is unreal.”

“Absolutely.” I agree. “This is like something you’d get in a restaurant.”

“Calm down, lads, it’s just French toast.” Says Jude, but the tips of his ears have gone red.

When Jonas reemerges, dressed, he takes a plate from the cupboard and starts unceremoniously shovelling food onto it, and then stands barefoot in the middle of the kitchen eating it like a wild animal. I side eye Claire to gauge her reaction to this, and just like I expected she’s horrified.

“What is everyone going to do today?” He says, mouth jammed with bread.

“No big plans.” I tell him. “Maybe see the sights a bit, wander around. Look at the shops.”

“Oh, have you got costumes for Saturday night?”

“Sort of. Halfway, maybe. We were hoping to find something here.” I glance at Claire and she nods. I have the shoes I want to wear, but nothing else. She hasn’t got a single item, so some serious shopping is in order.

“There are so many places for thrift shopping.” He says with a wave of his fork. “You will find something great.” He prods Jude’s shoulder with his fork. “Are you going too?”

“Nah we’ve agreed to meet up in the evening, I have to go to the studio today, unfortunately.”

“Work work work.” Jonas says with an eye roll. “I hope you get a good job after all of this is finished, or it will all be for nothing.”

“Agreed.” Jude says flatly. “Who are going as, by the way? I mean, costume wise” he says to Claire and I then, eyes flitting back and forth between us, and I smirk at him. “We’re not telling you.” We don’t know. “We’re going to surprise you on the night.”

“Fine, then I’ll surprise you too.”

“Well I’m expecting to be impressed.”

His smile falters. “Don’t hold your breath.”

“You mean you’re not overly prepared?”

“It was a difficult theme.”

“It’s not difficult.” Jonas informs him. “It would be difficult if it was, I don’t know, 1930s soviet politicians, but it’s 60’s celebrities. It really couldn’t be easier.”

“Okay.” He shrugs. “Just mostly men were just wearing variations of the same suit.”

“Not true. You could have been a beatle, or a rolling stone, any of those groovy woodstock men, you didn’t think outside the box.” Jonas turns and winks at us. “My costume is good. Wait and see.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky girl part 3

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gryfflepuffinthetardis · 5 months

Text

The Man Who Sold the World (Sweet Jane Part Three) — Campbell Bain x Reader

Sweet Jane Episode One: Hey Jude

Sweet Jane Episode Two: Fly Like an Eagle

“She’s a mystery, but allow me to uncomplicate her for you. She isn’t impressed by material things. She’s a romantic; all she wants is love, conversation, and wine.”

Warning: Trauma from a toxic ex, Fear of a toxic ex, Stalking,

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Campbell, Fergus, and Y/N were on a stage, playing music while Rosalie walked through the crowd with her gloves on, handing around a petition, as Dancing in the Street played.

“This is street radio, keeping you, you dancing in the street! And if you like what you've heard so far, then come and sign the petition which says: ‘We, the undersigned, would like Campbell Bain and Ready Eddie McKenna to be given their own show on local radio’, and make us the first DJs in radio history to go professional by popular demand!”

The crowd applauded and Campbell played Do Ya Think I'm Sexy. “Here's an anonymous dedication to Debbie, who works in the travel center just across from us, from,” He started talking in the husky “dead smoochy” voice again, "a secret admirer who could show you what love is, yeah!" Then there was a slight pause before Campbell pointed, “Well, all right, Debbie, it's that wee baldy guy in the blue anorak.”

The audience laughed at his humor as he took Y/N’s hands and eased her into a dance, making his hair flop about before a police officer came up, turning off the boombox, making the audience boo.

“Right, party's over. You're busking without a permit and ye's have got one minute to clear off.”

Campbell, even though he had a microphone and was face-to-face with the officer, he still shouted into the microphone, “A PERMIT?! ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT,” He had gestured to the cop and then himself before turning to the audience, “WE NEED A PERMIT TO DANCE?!”

“NO!” The crowd shouted.

“DO WE NEED A PERMIT TO BOOGIE?!” Campbell shouted as the cop walked off, annoyed and Y/N and Fergus exchanged looks.

“NO!”

“WE ARE HERE TO BOOGIE AND WE SHALL NOT BE MOVED!” Campbell enthusiastically pumped his fist over his head, triumphantly.

The crowd cheered and applauded as Y/N thought she spotted someone taking pictures… but they seemed to be focused only on her, if she moved away from Campbell and Fergus, the camera followed only her. It wasn’t the kind that the press used being something like a Nikon model camera but more of a Canon model. She got distracted when Fergus hissed at Campbell, “What are you doing?” Fergus asked.

“I told you it would work! We've got a genuine incident going here!” Campbell said, excitedly, making Y/N look at him and then said in an excited singsong voice, “We are gonna be in the papers!”

Y/N joined them, poking her head around Fergus, “We're gonna be in jail, Campbell.”

There were police sirens wailing as more police officer came running up.

“...Yeah, we'll just merge quietly into the crowd and then leg it.” Campbell said and they grabbed their stuff and ran off, pushing through the crowd and Rosalie followed them, and it quickly became obvious where they were to the police.

Y/N ran past the guy still taking pictures and she got a sense of familiarity, so she stopped and looked at him but he ran off to a distance before taking more pictures of her before Campbell came back, grabbing her hand and pulling her.

“COME ON!”

Fergus, Campbell, and Y/N climbed over a sort barricade of junk. Y/N walked backwards to see the guy still taking pictures before she accidently stepped off the side of the junk and hit the ground with a yelp. Campbell went to her as Fergus held out a hand for Rosalie but she declined, despite wearing gloves and climbed over herself as Campbell helped Y/N up, a great constrast from when they first met just months ago.

“You alright?”

“Peachy pie.” She said, somewhat sarcastically.

He grinned and then he kissed her cheek and took her hand and ran off.

Eddie was in the station, filling in for Y/N who was supposed to be filling in for Campbell if he weren’t there. But neither were there.

“That was Runaway and this is Ready Eddie, standing in for Y/N L/N who should be standing in for Campbell Bain, who have both... run away! So... if you're out there and Campbell Bain is sitting next to you, smoking a fag and having a wee blether with your invisible voices or if you see Y/N L/N keying Campbell Bain’s dad’s car or furthering guilting him, tell them to—!” He played Baby Come Back as the four patients entered the station.

“Is it seven already?” Campbell asked.

“It's quarter past. Where the hell have you been?” Eddie demanded.

“Y/N, Rosalie and I got an afternoon pass. We staged a publicity stunt! A road show right in the middle of Argyle Street! And the police even came to break it up! Are you gonna tell me that's not frontpage news?!” He said, excitedly.

“What papers did you invite?” Eddie said, irritated.

It was immediately clear that Campbell was not aware of this fact, “‘Invite’? You mean you have to invite them?” He looked around at the group as Y/N closed the blinds over the window, anxiously, “Does that not... slightly... cheapen it?”

“Campbell, this station is falling apart. If something doesnae happen soon, we'll no have a station to publicize. In the past fifteen minutes, yet another channel on the mixer has blown; if I don't get any good news from Evelyn tomorrow about a new mixer, we may have to stop broadcasting altogether!” He started to shout in Campbell’s face, “You want to go professional? RULE ONE: TURN UP FOR YOUR SHOW!”

Campbell hung his head, ashamed and muttered, “...Sorry, Eddie.”

Eddie, then turned to Fergus and shouted, “How'd you no realize that channel was gonnae blow? How was it no checked?”

“...Sorry, Eddie.” Fergus shrugged.

Eddie then turned to Rosalie, “And what about you? You're the station manager; 's your job to make sure the show goes out!”

“...Sorry, Eddie.” She said, softly and splashed some Dettol into her hands and rubbed them together.

Then he turned to Y/N, “Aren’t you supposed to keep them in line, Y/N!?” Eddie shouted at Y/N who didn’t look sorry but more angry and tiresome, used to being screamed at. But she wasn't going to take it anymore.

“And where were you during Campbell’s first show. You were twenty minutes late, McKenna. Point is everyone makes mistakes and by the way WHY THE HELL AM I IN CHARGE OF KEEPING THEM IN LINE, I’M ONLY EIGHTEEN! I’M THE YOUNGEST ONE HERE!” She then spoke loudly but not in a yell again, if she yelled her voice became all hoarse from lack of use. “so how about you stop yelling at us because we’ve got work to do, so let’s just try and see a little bit of discipline and professionalism around here, huh? That alright with you, salesman of double windows.” She sassed much like a sassy temp would.

“Anyway. Record's almost finished. I've got to go to work.” Eddie said, putting his coat on.

“No problem.” Campbell said and he sat in the DJ chair while Y/N sat in the co-DJ chair, “Right.”

“Quiet! We're going on air now!” Rosalie said, loudly, making Eddie put a finger to his ear.

Y/N played the Hospital Radio Saint Jude's jingle as Eddie left and Campbell spoke into the microphone, “And that was Baby Come Back, coming at you from 1968.”

Apparently Rosalie felt the near empty hallway wasn’t quiet enough because she opened the door and shouted down the corridor, “I said, QUIET!” Her voice echoed on the radio, making Y/N flinch.

“Rosalie!” Campbell hissed.

Rosalie then spotted her husband, glaring at her, “Oh. It's you.”

It was quiet for a moment before Y/n leaned over Campbell, bringing the microphone to her mouth. “Um… this next song will be to all those unaccepting fathers who won’t accept that their son is amazing just the way they are but refuse to accept them and criticize him to the point that he had a legitimate manic episode.” Not true but he didn't know that. Nor did he deserve to know that.

“Y/N.” Campbell blushed.

“And also, for all those who got away. Oh Father.” She started playing Madonna’s Oh Father.

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Campbell pushed the fader slider and he pulled out a plastic bag, “I, uh, kind of guilt tripped my mother into stealing some money from my dad.” He smiled nervously, “And I bought you these.” He pulled a pair of light purple on light blue headphones.

“Campbell…” She smiled, touched. “You didn’t have to.”

“Well, I did break yours. Here,” He opened the box and unraveled the wire, spazzily and then he put them over her neck, leaning forwards her as he moved her hair and tucked them behind her ears. His eyes glanced down at her lips and he slowly leaned closer and then suddenly panic erupted inside her chest as traumatic memories flashed behind her eyes and she kicked the swivel chair back and ran out of the station, leaving Campbell very confused and now feeling dejected, his posture sank and he pouted, now resembling a kicked puppy dog (possibly kicked by his father or Stuart)

Evelyn was still perpetually closed minded about not only the patients working at the station but group therapy. Where was Doctor Winter!?

Campbell was pacing back and forth, running his hands through his hair as he eyed Y/N warily given that he had tried to kiss her and she ran in the opposite direction at full-speed but she was avoiding his gaze as Rosalie cleaned the station with her last bottle of Dettol when Eddie entered.

“How bad is it?” Campbell asked, eagerly.

Clearly Eddie was also annoyed with Evelyn’s behavior because he bitterly said, “We're getting nothing; they're afraid we may be a luxury they cannae afford; but they do wantae know if we want to do something for the Open Day next week.” He turned to Fergus, “What do you think?”

“They can't do this!” Campbell whined as Y/N went to him, calming him down by running her hands through his floppy locks, he leaned into their touch.

“How long can we keep going?” Eddie asked Fergus.

“A few months, or...” Fergus started.

“Few days.” Eddie finished.

“They are nipping my brilliant career in the bud!” Campbell shouted.

“They want rid of you, you know.” Francine said.

“Oh, aye?” Eddie asked and Francine nodded.

“That's how they do things in here. They never say ‘ye cannae do that’ or ‘ye cannae have that’, but ye cannae. You wantae put a poster up by your bed, they'll tell you there's nae Blu-tack. If you find some Blu-tack, they tell you it'll damage the paint. If you get some paint, they'll tell you the color doesnae match. They never actually stop you, but somehow you just stop.”

Y/N chuckled bitterly, “Story of my life.”

“Well, not this time.” Campbell said, determinedly, “Eddie, you tell them that yes, we do want to do something for the Open Day. We are gonna run a fundraiser to buy a new mixing desk.”

“How?”

“I see a Hospital Radio Road Show on a flatbed lorry. I see music and dancing. I see reporters!” He said, enthusiastically.

“I see no money, Campbell.” Eddie rubbed his temple.

“Well, we'll charge to play requests and dedications! And then, we will pull off one absolutely brilliant publicity stunt that will blaze its colors across every newspaper in Scotland!” He declared as Y/N got an idea.

“Such as?” Eddie asked, flatly.

“...I don’t know!” Campbell sputtered but remained undeterred, “I-I could get up on the roof of the hospital and threaten to jump unless the punters give us enough to buy a new mixer.

“Aye, but they might want you to jump.” Y/N said in a slightly sarcastic deadpan voice.

“Well then I'll threaten no to jump unless the punters give us enough to buy a new mixer.” Campbell half-joked, getting close to her, at least she was making eye contact with him again.

“Campbell, they are not going to let you threaten to jump off the hospital rooff for their Mental Health Week Open Day!” Eddie scolded.

“It was only my first idea!” Campbell defended, “Come on, Y/N, Fergus, Rosalie—we've gotta mobilize the troops! Hospital radio must survive!”

He took Y/N’s hand and walked off with Fergus following while the skeptical Eddie sat down and Rosalie was writing in her notebook.

Campbell came back and spoke to Rosalie, “Rosalie, what are you doing?”

“Uh, just—writing a list.” She said.

“Come on!”

“I gotta make a phone call!” Y/N said and ran down the hall as Campbell whined after her.

“Y/N!”

Campbell gathered the gang and the inmates for an announcement which as per usual annoyed Alistair.

“Fellow inmates! I suppose you're all wondering why I've asked you here today.”

“Just get on with your bid.” Alistair complained.

“Yes, how dare we interrupt your TV time.” Y/N deadpanned.

"I liked it better when you didn't speak at all." Alistair muttered, grumpily.

“We all remember what life here was like before hospital radio.” Campbell said.

“Aye, a lot quieter.” Hector piped up.

"Becasue Y/n never spoke." Alilaster grumbled but he was ignored completely.

“You're right, Hector! Hospital radio has brought us music, laughter, got us dancing in the corridors! Before that, the most excitement we got here was listening to you fart God Save the Queen or waiting for Myra the Catatonic to blink or trying to get Y/N to talk!” He smiled at her with a light in his eyes, “Now, is that what you want to go back to?” Campbell then turned to look at Sheila who was shaking her head, “Is it?”

“No!” She said.

Campbell paced with his hands behind his back as if a solider, addressing his troop, making Y/N Well. Unless we can raise the dosh to buy a new mixer, that's all there's going to be round here.

“What's a ‘mixer’?” Billy asked.

“Shh!” Margaret shushed him as Fergus and Eddie exchanged amused looks.

“But with your help, we are going to be holding a fundraiser at the Open Day. We are going to be staging a Hospital Radio Road Show, through a 5 kilowatt P.A. on a flatbed lorry in the courtyard, and we're going to need volunteers. To help set up and run the show; to help rattle tins—” Campbell explained, passionately and Y/N noticed Rosalie writing down in her little notebook, “but most of all, to help with the main fundraising event of the day, the Loony Pools!”

Y/N muffled her laughter into her palm as Eddie repeated this questioningly in a low voice to an amused Fergus. “Loony Pools?”

Campbell took a stack of homemade coupons from Y/N, giving her a grateful smile, “We're gonna be handing out coupons, like this one, with details of the contestants—half loonies, half boring folk—who'll be assigned numbers, one to twenty-four, by lottery. Two loonies in a pair is a score draw of three points. But if only the odd-numbered contestant's a loony, then it's a home win, one point. If only the even-numbered contestant is a loony, then it's an away win, one and a half points. If neither of them are loonies, it's a no-score draw of two points. A pound a line, best of eight, high score wins, five dividends of cheap prizes.”

The patients muttered in confusion and Hector asked, “What?”

“Yeah, I’m lost too, Cam.” Y/N muttered.

“...Basically, it's Spot the Loony.” Campbell summed up.

“Oh, cheeky!” A patient said.

“That’s you.” Y/N said in a low tone, nudging Campbell, “Cheeky little rascal.”

Campbell let a blushing smile as his cheeks reddened before turning back to the patients with a goofy lovestruck smile on his face, bouncing on his heels, excitedly. “Now! Volunteers?”

“Aye. I'll volunteer.” Margaret raised her hand.

“Me as well!” Billy volunteered.

“Me too!” Y/N chimed in.

“That's the spirit! Because we are going to show them—” Campbell beamed and then he started chanting while holding his fist up as if rebelling against institutional oppression… they kind of were… in terms of rebelling against oppression towards mental health, rather than racism… though oppression against racism could cause mental health problems. Because rude, normal people suck. “We are loonies and we are proud! Say it! We are loonies, and we are proud!”

“We are loonies, and we are proud! We are loonies, and we are proud!” The patients and Y/N chanted with him.

“Now! Any questions?” Campbell asked.

“Aye. Can I go to the toilet?” Billy asked.

Away you go.” Campbell dismissed him, “Any other questions?”

“Where is this flatbed lorry coming from?” Alistair asked.

“That's a detail we haven't worked out yet, but we're working on it.” Campbell admitted.

“So, who's bringing this massive P.A. then?” Margaret said.

“Well, that's another detail that we've not sorted out yet.” He replied.

“What exactly have you sorted out so far?” Alistair asked, annoyed.

“Well, Sandy in the kitchen's been saving us some tins to rattle.” Campbell muttered.

The patients then muttered unhappily as they left.

“Aw, come on! Have some faith!” Campbell whined.

Campbell leaned back on a table in dejection. Y/N went to his side, leaning against him, comfortingly as she placed a hand on his sternum, gently.

“We can still rattle the tins.” She said, encouragingly, he didn’t say anything, he just rested his floppy-haired head on her shoulder and she ruffled his hair but when she stopped he let out a whined and buried his head into the crook of her neck as she scratched his head, comfortingly as Rosalie was still over by the window making a list.

Campbell couldn’t sleep, he was too sad and lonely despite having several roommates. He kicked his covers off like a toddler when staggered down the hallway to Y/N’s personal dormitory as per requested by her refusing basic needs like sleep, food, and water, and he opened the door to find Y/N reading How To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. She looked up to see Campbell smiling warmly, reassuring her when he saw the fear and nervousness in her eyes which eased softly.

“I just… couldn’t sleep. I’m depressed.” He frowned.

She gave him a gentle smile and ushered him over, he got under the covers next to her but kept his distance, noting that they had never done this before and Y/N was jumpy with men.

Silence as she continued to read, “What… are you reading?” He asked, awkwardly.

“How To Kill a Mockingbird.”

“Never read it.”

“Too dark for your internal sunshine.” She said, ruffling his hair. "I usually perfer audiobooks but... I've learned to be cautious about hearing headphones when everyone else is asleep."

“Favorite character?”

“Boo Radley. He’s likely autistic. Misunderstood yet with a gold heart like us.” She said and rested her head against his shoulder and Campbell hesitantly wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she started to read to him be before she dozed off in his arms. He smiled down at her and he turned off her light and kissed the top of her head.

Around midnight, Rosalie entered the boy’s dormitory before finding that Campbell wasn’t there, so she went to Y/N’s personal dormitory as per requested and opened the door to find the two “strictly” friends sleeping next to each other. Or rather, full-on cuddling with Y/N’s head on his shoulder and him with his arms wrapped around her.

“Campbell! Y/N? Are you awake?” She asked in a whisper, neither answered so she turned on Y/N bedside lamp.

Campbell finally woke and reacted to the light, “Jesus! What did you do that for?”

Y/N groaned and pulled the covers over her head, hugging herself into Campbell’s chest, making him let out a gasp and squirming slightly before turning back to Rosalie.

“I wanted to know if you two were awake.” Rosalie said and Y/N groaned from under the covers, saying that she was going back to sleep and no one was going to stop her from doing so.

“Aye, well, I am now.” He sighed, annoyed, he huffed and shifted like, why am I awake, “What do you want?”

“I've been making some lists, Campbell.” She said.

“You're always making lists.” Campbell pointed out like, why do I have to be awake now as Rosalie sat in a chair next to the bed.

“But these ones are for you.” She said and handed the lists over to the sleep-deprived boy from her purse.

"Road haulage companies in the greater Glasgow area." He read and then dryly remarked, unaware that Y/N had gone stock still, “All right, well, thanks, Rosalie, I'm sure I'll find this very useful.”

Y/N suddenly moved urgently, making Campbell jump, scared he had done something wrong. She threw the covers off her, giving Campbell the chance to look down at her nightgown that said, “not crazy, just misunderstood”, his lips twitched into a small smirk of amusement before she spoke.

“Road haulage companies are bound to have flatbed lorries in their fleet! I bet someone'll loan us one, it is for charity.” Y/N said.

Rosalie handed him another paper as he realized what this all meant, “And that's a list of P.A. hire and sales companies; could have some luck there. And this is a list of local merchants who might donate prizes for your Loony Pools. You can recruit most of your non-loonies from the staff, although you'll have to be dead careful, because some of the staff aren't exactly certified…” She had a twirly loony gestured at her head, “non-loonies.

“So not Stuart… or Eddie.” Y/N said. “I could call some of my cousins that live in Edinburgh. They’re all normal, studying abroad.”

“Aye. This is a list of staff bulletin boards in the hospital—" Rosalie continued.

It can be done! You've cracked it, Rosalie!” Campbell said, enthusiastically and he went to shake her hand when she flinched and he remembered, “Oh, sorry.”

“Listen, you couldn't... do something for me, could you?” Rosalie requested.

“Aye, anything!” Campbell said as Y/N placed her chin on his shoulder to look over it as Rosalie handed him a parcel of ugly clothes.

“Listen, you couldn't just put this in your locker and then forget about it?”

“What's in it?”

“Some new clothes Jim brought me.” Rosalie replied.

“Why do you want to put that in my locker?” Campbell said.

“Ugh, this is the most hideous dress I have ever seen.” Y/N said, crinkling her nose at it.

“So I could pretend I lost them. Then I wouldn't have to wear them.”

“You don't want to wear them, don't wear them!”

“Well, Jim says I can't go home unless I wear them.” Rosalie explained and Y/N just flopped onto her back.

“Men.” She scoffed and Campbell gave her an offended look.

“And they want to give me drugs so I can't keep me head straight and defend myself from the germs. I'm down to me last bottle of Dettol but Jim won't let me buy any more, and the doctor says—"

“Now don't let them push you around, Rosalie. Stand up to them.” Campbell encouraged her and Y/N muttered something, sardonically.

“How?”

“You just say…” Campbell then spoke in a bad American accent that vaguely resembled a Brooklyn accent, "‘I'm not gonna take any more o' dis crapola’."

Y/N turned her head to look at him oddly as Rosalie shook her head, “I couldn't do that.”

“How no?”

“I'm not American.” Rosalie pointed out.

“Aye, but it sounds that brilliant when they say it in the films.” He said and Y/N laughed, “‘I'm not gonna take any more o' dis crapola’."

"I'm not going to take any more of this... crapola." Rosalie repeated in her normal voice.

“Uh... you're gonna have to work on the accent.” Campbell said.

“"I'm not gonna take any more of... dis... crapola." She repeated, slowly and awkwardly in an even worst accent. Then she giggled and covered her mouth with her hands as if she had done something scandalous.

Campbell laughed as Y/N rose herself back to having her chin back on Campbell’s shoulder, “That's the spirit!”

“What am I going to do with these clothes?” Rosalie asked.

“Chuck 'em. Burn 'em.” Campbell dismissed.

“Oh, I couldn't do that, Robbie.” Rosalie said and Y/N frowned. Who was Robbie.

“Well, give them to Mad John the Pyromaniac, he'll take care of them.” Campbell said before realizing something, “Did you just call me Robbie?”

Rosalie hurriedly rubbed her hands with Dettoll, “Maybe I'll just put them under my mattress.” She gathered her stuff and then left.

"Right, well, that was a thing." Campbell deadpanned.

“That was odd.” Y/N said.

“Okay, sleepy time.” Campbell said and turned off the light and pulled Y/N into him playfully, making her giggle slightly which warmed his heart.

They couldn’t go back to sleep for a while as Campbell traced circles in her shoulder before he asked, “What do you think you’ll do after you leave?”

“I don’t know. Write? I like to write. Maybe I could be your DJ manager.”

“Yeah, I’ll add it to my list of things to do next to lose my virginity.” He said before hesitantly asking, “are you still a virgin? Not that I want to take it but… I'm not saying that I wouldn't, I mean I would, no! What I mean...”

“No.” She cut him off.

“What?”

“No, I’m not a virgin.” She said and snuggled into the pillow, ending the conversation.

A few days later, Campbell and Y/N were on the air, “Just to remind you that tomorrow, Saint Jude's Hospital Radio Roadshow is going to roll into Open Day, and we need your help to raise money for a new mixer. Without it, hospital radio will soon sound like this.” Silence. Rosalie and Francine looked at him and Y/N in confusion and he smiled meaningfully at them as Y/N giggled into his shoulder, “So! Come along and show your friends, your relations, and the local community that we are loonies, and we are proud!”

Campbell put on Don't Let Me Down as Eddie entered.

“Jesus, what's all this?” Eddie asked.

“You're late.” Rosalie scolded him.

“Sorry, I was working.” Eddie said as Campbell and Y/N pulled their headphones off to watch in amusement.

“Ah, well, here's your list. And you better get started or you'll never get through it.

"Go to car. Put key in ignition. Drive to Hot Jam P.A. hire." Eddie read the thorough instructions.

“There's your address.” Rosalie said, handing him a card.

"Collect speakers. Put in car. Drive back. Take key from ignition." Eddie continued to read.

“Rosalie's nothing if not thorough.” Campbell laughed and Y/N joined in.

“Francine, isn't that banner ready yet?” Rosalie demanded.

“Just finished! And then I have to help Fergus cord the leads.” Francine told her.

“Just give me a minute.” Fergus said which set off Rosalie again.

“A minute? You're only halfway down your list and it's nearly eight o'clock.” She snapped at Fergus and then turned to Eddie, “And you. Well, don't stand there like a dead sheep, go to your car.” Then she rounded on Campbell and Y/N, “And what are you two doing?!”

“I'm in the middle of my show!” Campbell whined and then took Y/N’s hand like he couldn’t do it without having a “manic episode” without her and then gave Rosalie a pouty look.

“Okay, but hurry up!” Rosalie said as Isabel entered.

“Rosalie?”

“Can you not see I am busy?” She snapped at her.

“Your husband's just arrived.” Isabel informed her.

“Tell him to screw off!” Y/N called but was ignored.

“Doctor Cairns can see you now.” Isabel said.

“I'll be there in a minute. I can't stop long.” She said and then she left with Isabel.

“What was that?” Eddie laughed.

“Power corrupts, but absolute power corrupts every loony.” Campbell teased.

“Kind of men in power.” Y/N smirked, cheekily. “It’s the need for control.”

“She organize all this?”

“Aye! By tomorrow night, this hospital isnae gonna know what hit it. And by Monday morning, the Loony Pools is going to be all over every newspaper in Glasgow, paving the way to our career in professional radio! Fergus faxed the press releases this morning.” Campbell said, idealistically and optimistically.

“Aye. Well, just don't be too disappointed if the press don't show up, okay?” Eddie warned.

Campbell’s smile faltered, “What do you mean?”

“It's just that there's nothing all that newsworthy about a bunch of loonies staging a stunt at an Open Day.” Eddie said.

“But it's Mental Health Week.” Campbell said.

“Well, I gave up smoking on National No Smoking Day, but they didnae put my name in the paper.” Eddie pointed out.

Campbell slumped, now disheartened again.

“Good job, Eddie. You made him sad.” Y/N snapped and she took Campbell’s hand.

Eddie sighed, “I better get these speakers. Listen, Campbell.” Campbell looked up at him with a surly expression and Eddie turned back to him, “If we just raise enough money to buy a cheap, nasty secondhand mixer to keep the station going, that'll be enough for me.”

“Ah, well, that's your trouble, Eddie. You aim low every time.” Campbell said, sourly.

“Aye, but I reach my goals.” He said and then left.

“They’ll show up. Even I called some.” Y/N told him, “Hey,” she cupped his cheek and turned his head to look at her, stroking his cheek with her thumb, “trust me?”

He smiled, still somewhat disheartened but believing in her, “Yeah, I trust you.”

Campbell and Fergus and the others carried in speakers, “I've got it, Fergus. The day's entertainment is reaching its climax. The last two contestants mount the stage. The audience mark their coupons; they hand them in. When suddenly, a swarm of photographers surge forward, because it turns out that one of the contestants was none other than—Spike Milligan! The greatest manic-depressive of our time!

“Spike Milligan?” Fergus said.

“Seven out of ten folk will probably think he's a patient! What a news story, eh? What a scoop!” He said, enthusiastically.

“There's only two things wrong with that, Campbell. First, how are you going to get Spike Milligan to appear in your Loony Pools for tomorrow afternoon?”

“Y/N.” Campbell pointed at the H/C-haired girl.

“Uh, a pal of mine's girlfriend's sister went to university with his grandson—” Y/N said, vaguely, avoiding eye contact.

“—Second, everybody knows what he looks like.” Eddie said.

“Good point. We'll need to disguise him.” Campbell said when Rosalie entered wearing just a hideous dress that Jim hadn’t been appreciative of at all as she rubbed her hands with Dettol. “What are you doing wearing that horrible dress?”

“What's going on?” She asked as she set the bottle down on the edge of the table where a speaker is sitting.

“These are the speakers you sent for.

“You can't bring these in here yet I haven't cleaned them! Take them out!” She complained.

“We're going, we're going...” Eddie said and he picked up a speaker and knocked over her bottle of Dettol.

Rosalie gasped, staring in horror as the tension intensified. “It's gone.”

“...I'll get a mop.” Francine said, leaving to do so as Rosalie started to panic.

“That was my last bottle!”

“It's okay, it's okay...” Campbell reassured her.

“What am I going to do? There's germs. There's germs!” She cried.

“Shh, it's okay, Eddie's going to get you some more from the late-night shop.” Y/N reassured her.

“Where's the late-night shop?”

“Fergus'll show you.”

“Uh, I've escaped twice today already.” Fergus protested and Y/N turned to glare at him.

“Germs... kill! And they're everywhere!” Rosalie cried.

“Look, do you want them to come and sedate her? Go!” Campbell hissed and Fergus left with Eddie to get her some more Dettol.

“I’ll pay you back!” Y/N called after them.

“Germs. Kill. Do you not understand? Germs. Kill.” Rosalie panted before going to sit down,“Robbie got sick. Jim said I wasn't washing the lettuce properly. So I washed it and washed it. But he was still sick. Jim said it was 'cause the floors was dirty. So I washed them and washed them. But Robbie stayed sick. Jim said it was the drains, the toilet, the sinks, the dirty washing. The cutting board and the kitchen knives! I made lists of all the places the germs could be. I washed everything! But no. Robbie stayed sick.” Rosalie held back her tears as her voice waivered, “Until he died. I never managed to kill all those germs...”

The death of her son combined with the rage of her husband, who blamed her because he couldn’t blame his son.

“What did he die of?” Campbell asked, gently.

“...Leukemia.”

“Oh, Rosalie...” Campbell said, softly while Y/N knew that this wasn’t the time to bring up that Leukemia was caused by genetics, not germs. It was likely the complusion and intense anxiet had already set in by the time they found out.

“Jim worshipped that lad. He hasn't been the same since.” Rosalie mourned, staring into the distance.

“Trauma can change people. It changed me.” Y/N confessed in a small voice.

Isabel then came in, “Y/N, your cousins are here.”

She tensed and hesitated before leaving without a word. Campbell stood up, watching her leave, slightly concerned.

On opening day, “That’s a lot of people.” Campbell worried, looking out at the crowd.

“Cams, you’ll be great.” Y/N encouraged him.

“By the way, did you call my dad?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged one shoulder, “so you can prove him wrong.”

“Why wouldn’t you consult me first?”

“I didn’t know how’d you react?”

“Not only are there hundreds of people but my road sweeper father, Y/N, I don’t think I can…”

Y/N suddenly stepped closer to him and raised herself on her toes, making his voice die as her lips teased him by getting close to his then pulling away. “I believe in you, Cammie. I’ve always believed in you.”

“Good luck kiss?” He breathed.

She moved to his ear and whispered, “We’ll see.” She started to pull away which made him whine before she turned back and pecked him on the lips and ran off, leaving him blushing like a schoolboy with a stupid look on his face.

Day Tripper played as Campbell spoke into the microphone, “This is for all you day-trippers out there who came to find out what it's like to be loony for a day. So if you've just arrived, get on your straitjacket, plug yourself into the nearest electrical socket, and get on down!”

“Not bad for a looney, huh?” Y/N told Campbell’s father.

“I thought you didn’t speak.” He said, as respectful as ever.

“Your son was going to give up because of you so I spoke up and told him what an ass you are. You’re selfish, inconsiderate, and miserable with your life so you take it out on the son who didn’t turn out like you wanted but guess what manic-depressive disorder is eighty percent genetic and more likely passed down from the father's side of the family than the mother’s, just because there's no known family members of your family doesn't mean there weren't any, you prideful ass. It can also be triggered by stress, emotional abuse, neglect, being bullied, loneliness, isolation, pressure, you know all those you put upon him so he’s a disappointment to you because you’re a disappointment to him in terms of parenting. He can’t turn it off like a switch and it is not an act. So, get your head out of your ass before he gets another manic attack and kills himself because of it.”

She smiled, psychopathically and then walked off, leaving him in stunned silence that she would speak to him like that, and she joined the others as Rosalie was reading out requests.

“Big Girls Don't Cry, The Four Seasons. All Kinds of Everything—”

Eddie had been trying to find the requested records, “You're going too fast!”

“You're just finding too slow.” Rosalie hissed.

“Let me help. What else is there?” Y/N asked.

“Polly.”

“What?” Y/N asked, suddenly so alarmed that her entire body flinched with fear, unaware of the man who had been taking pictures of her was watching but not taking pictures.

“Polly by Nirvana.” She repeated the request that unnerved Y/n when Campbell started talking again and one of her cousins hurried over to her, noticing her cousin’s alarm.

youtube

“Yes, it's time again to separate the loonies from the boring folk, so get ready to mark your X, boys and girls, because if you are one of our lucky winners today, you may walk out of here with one of our fabulous prizes! Which, if you happen to be on a Section 26, means somebody'll come and bring you right back again. You could win a teddy bear, a dancing Coke can, a bottle of cheap sherry, a fruitcake, or a week's supply of cat food. We wanted to give away a color telly and a portable Jacuzzi, but they wouldnae trust us with anything electrical.” He chuckled.

Y/N and her cousin were having a whisper conversation, it was heated like an argument but wasn’t an argument, more of her cousin reassuring her of something when Hector grabbed her arm, making her jerk away into her cousin’s arms who held onto her protectively, looking at Hector as if trying to see if she should beat him down.

“Sorry. Y/N, Mark’s not here.”

Rosalie materialized next to them, “What?”

“He's supposed to be contestant twenty-two, but they discharged him this morning!” Hector warned.

“You'll have to take his place, then.” Rosalie said.

“No, I couldnae!” Hector denied, fearfully.

“You're right. They'd know straightaway you was one of the loonies.

“Rosalie!” Y/N scolded, “where’s your husband? He’d qualify as a looney. What kind of husband doesn’t show up to support his wife?”

“Ladies and gentlemen, loonies and loonettes—” Campbell continued, “Please welcome our next pair of contestants, numbers twenty-one and twenty-two on your coupon.

“Fergus, get up there.” Rosalie said, going to the shy electrician.

“What?”

“I said, get up there! Now, Fergus.” She said and put the “22” lanyard around his neck, then went to Hector as Y/N and her cousin went up to Campbell to inform him.

“Cam, uh, Mark got discharged but we’re replacing him with a very grumpy-looking Fergus.”

He smiled gratefully at her for the update and spoke into the microphone, “Can you spot the loonies, day trippers? Have a good wee look while I play you this dedication from all the folk on Ward 11 to all the nice residents of the surrounding community.” Campbell said and played Lazy Sunday. Y/N and her cousin went to leave but he grabbed on to her forearm gently and he quickly kissed her on the cheek and then giggled because of the excitement, being able to do that gave him.

She rose herself on her toe and kissed his nose, making him giggle again before sitting back down.

Y/N and her cousin went to rejoin the others, “He’s cute.” Her cousin said, “He your boyfriend?”

“Uh…”

“More importantly, is he a good guy. So soon after…” Her voice trailed off.

“He’s nothing like him. Campbell's like a walking ray of sunshine.” Y/N reassured her.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." Y/n said, softly.

They joined as Francine did, “Rosalie! That bastard caretaker just said we have to unplug our gear at four o'clock. Everything's plugged intae the power point in his wee room and he's going to unplug us so as he can lock up.

“Oh, perfect, that's just perfect.” Eddie scoffed, annoyed.

“All right, Hector. You spilled them, so you can file them back.” Rosalie said.

“What about the requests?” Francine asked.

“Okay, everybody, no more requests between the letters A and H, you got that? Eddie, go and get us some electric.”

“What?!”

“Try the offices, try the ward. Here's a list of all the power supplies in the hospital. Now go!” Rosalie said, giving him a list.

“How does it have to be me?” Eddie whined.

“You think they're going to give their electricity to a loony? You've got five minutes.” Rosalie said.

“My show's about'ae start!” Eddie complained.

“There's not going to be a show without electric! Now go!” Then she snatched a collection tin from Francine and handed it to Eddie, “Bribe them if you need to.”

“C/N (Cousin's Name), go with him. Eddie, this is my cousin, now go!” Y/N pushed her cousin to leave with him.

“But who's gonna take his show?” Francine asked.

"Francine, this is your big moment." Rosalie told her.

"...Oh no!” Francine stressed and Y/N went to calm her down as Rosalie talked to Margaret

“I'm no gonna take the show! I'm not ready! Make Y/N do it.

“I’m a contestant! I’m number’s coming up.” Y/N protested.

Then Evylyn showed up with a woman they've never met, “Rosalie, I've got someone here I'd like you to meet.

“You're gonna have to wait your turn!”

“Does it look like we’re available to talk, Nazi-ette!?” Y/N shouted at her, “Mental patients are more capable and competent and compassionate than you are!”

Rosalie turned back to Margaret, “You see those stalls over there? There's a list of every stall and what they're selling. Go. Away you go and buy a fruitcake.”

“Rosalie! Are you listening to me?!” Francine shouted before Fergus came up to lead her away before she broke into hysterics.

“Well, that's just about all from me this afternoon—”

“Does I come before L or does L come before I?” Hector wondered.

“Dude, I don’t know, I have the mentally sing the alphabet in my head each time I open a dictionary!” Y/N complained.

“I comes before L.” Rosalie said.

“Rosalie, she's—” Evelyn tired again but was interrupted by Campbell running over to them.

“What happened to Eddie… and C/N?”

“They’ve gone in to find us some electric with. If he doesn't find it in the next two minutes, the caretaker's pulling the plug.”

“Th-they can't do this! Y/N and I haven't been a contestant in the Loony Pools yet!” He complained.

“But I can see the audience, Fergus!” Francine cried.

“You'll be fine.” He reassured her.

“Does S come before T?” Hector asked.

“Could you two help him with his alphabet?” Rosalie asked and Campbell and Y/N went to Hector.

The Caretaker arrived, looking like a grade-a douchebag, “Right! Your time's up! I'm locking up now!”

“If you pull that plug, you are pulling the plug on my whole career!” Campbell shouted at him, pointing at him but the caretaker was unmoved, “It's Open Day, for Christ's sake!”

“Don’t you dare crush his dreams! I’ll crush you!” Y/N shouted at the caretaker but he was still unmoved and unintimidated.

“Just another day for me, girlie.” The caretaker said.

Y/N lunched to attack him but Campbell pulled her back, helped with Y/n's cousin ran up, grabbing her cousin around the middle.

“Yeah, underestimating her isn’t a good idea.” C/N said, “Also calling her ‘girlie’.”

“We’ve got it. We've got it.” Eddie shouted and he swapped the plug into the power point they brought.

Campbell and Y/N went back to help Hector with the sorting again, “If "The" is the first word, should it no go into the Ts?

“The’s don’t count!” Y/N said to Hector as Campbell frustrated and annoyed, took the record out of his hand.

“Don’t blame him, Cams. He can’t help it.” Y/N scolded and gently bonked him on the head with a record.

“Y/N, GET UP ON STAGE! YOU’RE NEXT!” Rosalie screamed and Y/n and C/N ran up t the stage putting on their twenty-three and twenty-four markers.

“Hello! This is the Fabulous Francine. And it's time once again for the Loony Pools!

“So, get ready to mark your X for the second to last time as I give you contestants number twenty-three and twenty-four. This is Y/N L/N and C/N C/L/N, can you spot the loony?”

Y/N and her cousin were evenly tied in the round as Eddie made his way to his grandmother. “You decided to come.”

“Nope! I’m the loony!” Y/N called and then bowed in a silly manner before straightening back up, making her hair flip through the air.

“She’s a cute lass, the one with the h/c.” Eddie’s grandmother said.

Eddie gave her a look of horror, “Grandma, she’s eighteen.”

“Above the legal age.”

“She’s kind of with Campbell.” Eddie said as Y/N helped put Campbell’s marker on of twenty-five and cupping his cheek.

“Get ready to mark your X for the last time as I give you contestants number twenty-five and twenty-six.” Francine said.

“She is nice lassie.” Eddie’s grandmother said, referring to Francine.

“For the final time, can you spot the loony?”

“How you don't ask her for date?” She asked Eddie.

“She's the one I was telling you about, the new DJ I'm training.” Eddie told her.

“She doesnae look crazy!” Eddie’s grandmother gasped.

“Do I know that guy?” Eddie asked, referring to contestant twenty-six.

“Can we have one without the glasses, Mr. Milligan?” A photographer asked.

“Curse! I knew the disguise wouldn't work!” Spike Milligan said, taking off the sunglasses.

“Try acting loonier.” Campbell said in fake sotto.

“What? For that I want money!” Spike Milligan teased and the audience and Campbell laughed as Y/N got on stage and hugged Spike Milligan, “you’re lucky, my granddaughter-in-law likes you so much.

“What!?” Campbell exclaimed.

“Do you mind being asked to play "Spot the Loony", Mr. Milligan?” A photographer asked.

“No. No. I do not mind being asked to play Spot the Loony. But…” Spike Milligan said in a slow, silly voice before dropping the voice, “I object to being called Spot!”

“She did it! The wee bastard got Spike Milligan!” Eddie beamed.

When they took the picture of the “Looneys”, Y/N cupped Campbell’s cheeks and pulled him in for a passionate kiss, shocking him until his hands went loosely to her hips as he kissed back. This was going to be their first kiss forever.

That night Campbell laid in Y/N’s bed as they shared lazy kisses, smiling like idiots.

“So, does this mean we’re together?” He asked.

“If… if you want.” She said, shyly.

“Oh my god, yes.” He said, kissing her.

“My… my trauma doesn’t scare you?” She asked.

“Does mine?”

“Mine’s… different, Cam. I…”

“Shh, shh, you don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to.” He whispered, stroking her cheek, “we can just kiss.”

She gave him a smile and kissed him.

A few days later, they were in the studio while Fergus was out getting the newspaper.

“I'd like to thank all of you who turned out to support the team for Open Day on Saturday. And having raised a grand total of six-hundred-and-forty-three pounds and sixty-seven pence, plus an anonymous donation of five hundred pounds,” Eddie said into the microphone and Campbell fist bumped goofily and then gave Y/N a peck, having become very affectionate towards her since they started dating despite never having gone on a real date due to them being busy from the station and being patients in a mental institution, “from somebody with a lot of musical taste, we are still in business!”

Outside the studio, the patients applauded as the intro to the next song started, “I think you all deserve a big hand.”

Campbell took Y/N hands and swayed with her to the music before Fergus entered and he turned to him, excitedly, “Well?”

“We're in.” Fergus smiled.

“YES!” Campbell shouted, jumping up and down before grabbing Y/N’s hands and making her jump with him.

Fergus laid down the newspapers, “Daily Record, Evening Times, The Herald...”

Campbell picked up on and read the headline, proudly, “;Just a Pair of Loony Goons’!”

"‘Spike Milligan with Campbell Bain and Y/N L/N of Saint Jude's Hospital Radio’!” Eddie read.

“We've done it! We're on our way!” Campbell cheered as Y/N kissed his cheek before he turned his head and kissed her.

“Campbell, you are a genius.” Eddie said, ignoring this display.

“Genius? “ He turned to Rosalie as he threw the paper down, “She's the genius. Rosalie, we're on our way!” He excitedly went to hug Rosalie but she drew back and Campbell remembered and pulled back as well, “sorry.”

Rosalie debated with herself, mentally before pulling off one of her gloves and holding her hand out to Campbell as the others watched with interest before Campbell cautiously took Rosalie’s hand, shaking it.

Campbell delightedly then raked back his floppy hair and started dancing as Y/N, Francine, and Fergus joined in.

Y/N took over after Eddie and talked about a phone her cousin had given her to call in requests.

“Hey, what’s your request?” Y/N asked, cheerfully, high on the happiness Campbell positively exuded.

“Polly by Nirvana.” Said a low, whispery voice that chilled Y/N to her bones. “Did you get my letter, Polly?”

Y/N’s face paled and she suddenly bolted out of the studio, so Campbell took over.

After the show, Campbell entered Y/N’s room to find her sitting on her bed, staring at an open parcel when he walked over and he saw it was a copy of the newspaper with them on it, in red ink—or what she hoped happened to be some odd red ink that was somehow both dark and bright—was her face circled with Campbell's eyes crossed out and his face scribbled on. Above her circle said: I gotcha, babe. See you soon, Polly.

"Y/N/N, what's wrong?" Campbell asked, “Tell me what’s wrong? You sent you that?”

“He found me, Cam.” She cried, burying her face into his shoulder as he hugged her, protectively.

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