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rhondafromhr · 4 months

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Nerds corruption au chapter 5!!

Thank you so much to everyone who’s been reading so far! This is the first thing I’ve written in literal years and all the likes/reblogs/comments have been super encouraging :) Also, quick update: I have an ao3 account now (same username - rhondafromhr), where I’ll be uploading what I’ve written so far. I’m going to adjust the formatting and fix any mistakes I happen to catch but other than that it’ll be identical. After this, I’ll probably just update there and post the link on here whenever there’s a new chapter. Unless anyone strongly prefers to read it in tumblr post format (I can always do both). Hope y’all enjoy!

Previous chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

“We’re Gonna Become The Bullies” - Chapter 5: No Matter The Cost, Idle The Threat

Hey gang, I have another plan <3 Let’s all meet at Beanies when Max is done with football practice and I’ll give you the rundown

Suddenly, Stephanie’s a lot less excited to have her phone back. How did Grace even get her number? More importantly, why is somebody whose last plan almost ended in manslaughter out here cooking up more plans? Stephanie knows she probably shouldn’t encourage this, but her morbid curiosity is just strong enough that she’s compelled to reply: cool, see you guys there. This better not be about Grace’s campaign to cancel the dance. Stephanie may or may not have an itemized list of cute homecoming proposal ideas for Pete and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t get to use at least one of them. If only Grace could see that she’s totally wrong about co-ed dances. They’re not just an excuse to dry hump in the gym. It’s heavily in the mix, sure, but it’s not the only thing. There’s also underage drinking and dancing awkwardly. It’s an essential high school experience. Now that she thinks about it, Grace has probably missed out on a lot of dumb teenage shenanigans thanks to her sheltered upbringing. Huh, that’s actually kind of sad. Maybe if Grace is open to it, they can help her catch up.

Before she can ponder that too much, she notices Brad Callahan passing by in the hallway, which obviously means she has to stop what she’s doing to raise her fist at him threateningly and call him a weak ass bitch. He flinches and hurries along. God, she’s been doing that every single time she encounters him and it still hasn’t gotten old. She might feel bad if it was anyone else, but Brad sucks. The best part is knowing he can’t do anything about it. She’s beginning to understand why Max does this sort of thing.

She has a couple of hours to kill before they’re meeting up, so she opts to spend them in the library at least trying to get some homework done. Not her idea of a good time, but she figures she should keep her grades high enough that her dad doesn’t get on her case again. Between the better grasp of the material that she now has courtesy of Peter’s tutoring and once again having access to her favorite chill lo-fi study beats playlist on Spotify, it’s not as painful as usual and she manages to finish most of her math worksheet before heading out.

True to form, Grace is already there waiting for everybody when Stephanie arrives. She has two disposable coffee cups in front of her, at least one of which Stephanie assumes contains hot water (seriously, what is her fixation with drinking plain hot water? Even if she’s anti-caffeine, why not just drink herbal tea or something?). Stephanie orders a hot chocolate for Pete along with an iced americano for herself, then joins Grace at the cozy table in the corner. The dainty little bell attached to the door dings to indicate Ruth’s arrival.

“Hi, Ruth,” Grace greets her, sliding Ruth one of the drinks as she sits down “This is for you. It’s tea with honey, the barista said it would be good for your voice. Gotta make sure it’s rested up for the show!”

“Since when are you in the show?” Stephanie asks Ruth “I thought you were doing the lighting board.”

“As of right now, yes,” Grace answers for her “but if you saw her perform, you’d agree she should be the one up on stage, not Trevor.” She says his name with absolute contempt.

“I still don’t know about this,” says Ruth “What if we get in trouble? I don’t want this to affect my chances of getting into college. Everyone knows that’s where all the really spicy sexual experimentation happens, watch some porn!”

“Oh, that won’t be an issue. Haven’t you heard? I’m the hall monitor,” Grace replies.

“Wow, Chasity, no comment on the porn thing? You must be laser focused on whatever this plan is.”

“There’ll be plenty of time for Ruth to reconsider that vow of chastity later,” Grace says as Ruth emphatically shakes her head no “but right now the most important thing is to make sure that lead role goes to the person who actually deserves it.”

Max and Richie arrive next, barely taking notice of the rest of the group as they sit down. Max’s anxious energy is palpable (even if he’s no longer taking his bad moods out on them, he sure can drag down the energy in a room). Richie seems to be trying to talk him down.

“Max, there’s nothing to be worried about! You guys looked great at practice today. There’s no way we’re losing to Clivesdale tomorrow. This is what you’ve been training for,” Richie says.

Max doesn’t seem convinced. “Yeah, but that’s what I thought before the last game and we got destroyed. I don’t want to sleep outside again, it’s been getting really cold out! I could die from hypothermia and become a ghost. You know how I feel about ghosts, Richie!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Richie asks, racking his brain to try and figure out the connection between losing the big game and becoming a hypothermic ghost.

“When we lost to Sycamore, my dad locked me out of the house and made me sleep outside that night,” Max explains “but this is fuckin’ Clivesdale we’re talking about. If we lose to them, it’ll probably be for a week straight.” Richie, Ruth and Grace stare at him in stunned silence. Stephanie just gives him a sympathetic pat on the arm.

“Max,” Richie says, gentle and reassuring “we’re your sworn friends now, which means we’re not letting you sleep outside even if you single-handedly make us lose to Clivesdale. Just stay over at my place.”

“But doesn’t Paul, like, hate me?”

“Oh, he does not hate you. He’s just a little weary of you on account of the years of relentlessly bullying me. He’s going to be out of town, anyway.”

“Ooh, we should all have a sleepover, then!” Ruth says excitedly “That’s where sexy pillow fights happen!”

Stephanie shrugs. “Sure. Beats going home.”

“Oh, that actually does sound fun! My parents would never let me go to a co-ed sleepover, though,” Grace says wistfully.

“Just tell them it’s an overnight bible study and maybe conveniently forget to mention that the boys’ll be there,” Stephanie suggests “if it makes you feel better, I’ll even let you read, like, one passage to me so you’re not technically lying.” This elicits the brightest, most genuine smile she’s ever seen from Grace. Stephanie hopes the passage is at least one of the cool, violent ones and not something basic like “Love is patient, love is kind.” With Grace, it could go either way.

Richie doesn’t comment on everyone essentially inviting themselves over to his house. He simply leaves the table and returns with two mint teas, one of which he hands to Max.

“Here. This always makes me feel a little better when I’m anxious.”

“What? Thanks, bro. That’s so sweet.” Max can’t remember the last time he felt so loved. He never thought he’d have friends who care enough about him to bring him tea when he’s stressed and not let him freeze in the Michigan winter all night just because he loses a game.

All this talk about freezing to death reminds Stephanie that Pete’s hot chocolate is getting cold. Beverages at Beanie’s are best consumed piping hot - the spit is less noticeable that way. Hatchetfield has its fair share of strange, unexplainable phenomena, but why the health department has yet to crack down on this place might be the biggest mystery of all. Why people still come here fully knowing about the spit thing is a close second. Peter finally arrives and gratefully accepts what is now essentially gross, lukewarm chocolate milk.

“Alright, now that everybody’s here we can get started,” Grace begins “As you all know, the theater department cast Trevor in the lead for The Barbecue Monologues. Trevor!” Once again, she utters his name with vitriolic hatred. “Obviously, this is an absolute travesty and it’s our responsibility to fix it. I watched the rest of that rehearsal and he completely phoned in ‘Just For Once’. He can’t even get his lines right, let alone understand the emotional gravity of that song like Ruth does. You can’t tell me it’s God’s will to have Trevor up on that stage instead of her!”

“So, how are we getting Trevor off the stage, then? I need to know how deeply I should regret getting involved in this,” Peter quips. To his surprise, he doesn’t actually feel all that apprehensive. If anything, he’s kind of intrigued, wondering how they’re going to pull this off.

“Well, tomorrow morning I’m going to arrive at school for my usual morning duties and discover a heinous act of vandalism. I guess Trevor and his understudy decided to pull a little senior prank.”

“Wait, we’re framing Rudolph, too? Isn’t it way too convenient that the lead and his understudy both get in trouble this close to opening night? It’s going to look suspicious,” Richie replies.

“Well, those two do everything together! It’d be weirder if they weren’t both in on it. In fact, they’re so close they have these adorable matching friendship bracelets that they never take off. Except during dress rehearsals, that is. You got them, right, Ruth?” Ruth produces two thin, handmade woven bracelets from her backpack. “And at the scene of the crime, apparently, because that’s where they’re going to be found.”

“The scene of the crime?” Peter echoes back.

“The gym. They had the audacity to spray paint…” Grace lowers her voice to a whisper so the rest of the café patrons don’t hear the absolutely vile phrase leave her mouth “…‘Go Clivesdale’ on the wall right before the big game!” The rest of the group audibly gasps. Richie chokes on his tea.

“Go Clivesdale?” he sputters, “isn’t that taking it a little far? Maybe we should just write some swears or something.”

“Or anatomically correct nude drawings!” Ruth chimes in “I have a ton of pictures on my phone we can use for references.”

“Ruth, no. And Richie, the whole point is that it’s too far! We need to do something severe enough for them to actually get in serious trouble. Do you want Ruth to get her moment in the spotlight or not?”

Of course he does. Ruth has been by his side for years and helped him through some of the worst times of his life. He knows how much performing means to her. How she’s been missing out on it for years not for lack of talent or passion, but simply because her anxiety holds her back. If she finally feels confident enough to get up on stage, he decides, he’ll do anything to make that happen. Besides, Grace’s last plan worked out pretty well in the end.

“Okay, I’m in,” Richie says.

“For Ruth,” Pete agrees.

“I still don’t know her super well, but sure, for Ruth,” says Stephanie.

“See, this is why I love you guys! This plan is so smart and sneaky. I’d usually just beat him up and scare him into quitting, but this is way more fun!” Max adds.

“There’s a thought. That might actually be less effort than breaking and entering,” Stephanie muses. She is, of course, purely concerned with efficiency and is not at all thinking about the adrenaline rush she got from beating up Brad and itching to feel it again.

“We’re not breaking and entering. I’ve been a little preoccupied lately and I just might have forgotten to lock the side door to the gym this morning. We’ll just walk right in,” Grace responds with a wicked smile “speaking of which, we should head over. All the staff should be gone for the day. Steph, you’re our getaway driver!” They all follow Grace out of the café, blissfully unaware that they lingered for twenty minutes past closing time.

While her coworkers grumble about entitled customers ignoring their posted hours of operation, Zoe smiles to herself. She caught most of that conversation and can’t help but root for those kids. Committing sabotage to steal the lead role like that? Iconic. They’ve also stolen her heart. She wishes she was half as bold at their age. Their drinks will be on the house next time they come in. Maybe she won’t even spit in them.

The next morning, principal Blim arrives at work feeling less than his best, to say the least. He kicks himself for agreeing to attend “Thirsty Thursday” on a work night - he’s in his forties, who is he kidding? He really needs to stop hanging out with his cousin Barry. That guy was sure “in a hurry” to slam as many consecutive tequila shots as possible last night. He really didn’t care for Barry’s sketchy friend that joined them, either. He got way too drunk and made some comment about locking his kid out of the house whenever his football team loses. The dirtbag seemed completely serious about it, too. He knows Barry’s been going through it with the divorce, but he’s going to have a serious talk with him about how he’s been coping and the company he keeps. He drags himself to the teacher’s lounge for the coffee he desperately needs, trying to ignore the obnoxious fluorescent lights boring into his eyes and making the pounding in his head exponentially worse. As he makes his way to his office, he begs whatever higher power might be listening for a calm, uneventful day. Said higher power must be feeling vindictive, because he’s immediately greeted by a crying, frantic Grace Chasity.

“Principal Blim, thank goodness you’re here! I was doing my morning rounds a-and I stopped in the gym and somebody wrote-“ she sobs “it’s so awful, I can’t even say it!”

“It’ll be okay, Grace. Let’s head over there together and you can show me.”

There’s no need to panic yet. Knowing Grace, this could easily be her reaction to something that’s mildly crude at worst. At least that’s what he thinks until they enter the gymnasium and he realizes she’s absolutely right to be so worked up. See, there’s a beautiful, haunting, hyper-realistic mural of a nighthawk flying over the Hatchetfield Witchwood on the wall opposite the bleachers. It’s been there for about fifteen years now, painted by a former student who was slated to go to a prestigious art school, but sadly went out into that very Witchwood one day and did not make it to the end of her senior year. Now that mural has been desecrated in a manner absolutely unforgivable. As he gazes upon with horror, he drops his mug and the sound of glass shattering on the linoleum floor echoes through the empty gymnasium. This is the foulest, most offensive thing he’s ever seen in his life. He can’t even begin to imagine what type of disgusting human being would do something like this. “Go Clivesdale!” Somebody had the nerve to write “Go Clivesdale!” over the Nighthawk mural! Right before the big game, no less! He’ll catch the perpetrator and make them pay if it’s the last thing he does.

#nerdy prudes must die #npmd #npmd corruption au #max jagerman #peter spankoffski #ruth fleming #stephanie lauter #grace chasity #hatchetfield #richie lipschitz #barry swift #man in a hurry #cw child abuse mention #max jagermans shitty dad #lautski #cw alcohol #corruption arc

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rhondafromhr · 4 months

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Nerds corruption au chapter 4!!

Took me awhile before I was happy with this one but it’s finally done!

Previous chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

“We’re Gonna Become the Bullies” - Chapter 4: I’m The One To Wrong What’s Right

Grace starts her day the same way she always does: waking up to the shrill buzzing sound of her alarm far too early in the morning. She hates to admit it (sloth is a sin, after all), but every once in a while it would be nice to hit snooze a couple times. There’s no time for that, though. She has to do her sweep of the school bathrooms to check for graffiti. She has to make sure the side exit to the gym is safely locked so nobody can sneak out to “smoke up” during class. As hall monitor, it’s her sworn duty to keep Hatchetfield High safe from all the troublemakers trying to normalize sin and drag everyone down to hell with them. She figures it’s the least she can do to atone for the perverse thoughts she was having about Max Jägerman up until the Waylon place incident. Among other, more recent developments.

Then there’s the whole thing where she’s kind of friends with Maxwell now, along with everyone else who was involved in that prank. She brought that hatchet and the other supplies that night expecting a very different outcome (the specifics of which are between her and God now, since it never came to be. Only He can judge her), but this is intriguing, too. Being the “school snitch” only gives her so much power. Sure, she can issue a detention slip or run and tell a teacher, but she knows in the end all it does is get people to be sneakier about whatever they were doing wrong next time. Being in Max’s inner circle opens up a world of possibilities. People are scared of him and there’s not a lot they won’t do to avoid his wrath. It’s been a week and by now, everyone knows Max will absolutely fly off the handle at anyone who dares mess with the rest of the group. They’re also starting to realize that said group can be pretty intimidating in their own right and becoming more scared of them. Grace would be lying if she said the thought didn’t excite her.

She thinks back to that first Monday after the Waylon place, when Max first heard about Brad calling Peter that crass nickname. The righteous anger he exuded briefly brought that tickle back again. The next day at lunch, Max proudly recounted to the rest of the group the awesome punch Pete landed and how Brad ran away like a little bitch after and how Steph gave Brad the hardest slap with one hand while holding Pete’s in the other and wasn’t that the sweetest, most romantic thing ever. By the time he got to their stint in the principal’s office, she stopped listening, just imagining Peter and the crushing impact of his fist on Brad’s face. She thought about the slap over and over again, too: Steph raising her hand, staring down at Brad with rage burning in her eyes and bringing it down hard, leaving a red mark on his cheek. Her face, she realized with horror, was red, too, but for an entirely different reason. Oh, heck. Oh, no. Not again. But this was even more shameful than even the worst thoughts she ever had about Max. This was about two people at once, one of whom was another girl.

She tries to push away those thoughts for now and joins her parents at the breakfast table, where her usual cup of hot water is waiting for her. If they had any idea what’s really been going on with her, they’d probably send her away to live at Camp Idontwannabang with the Jerries permanently and the first time in her life, that doesn’t sound too appealing. So she’ll just have to continue acting like nothing’s wrong - essentially lying to them. Another sin to pile on top of all her others. As they say in that video game Richie likes: “gotta catch ‘em all.” Her whole life, all she’s ever wanted is to be a good, chaste, godly girl. It’s what her parents and her church friends have all come to expect from her. Not to mention God Himself. There must be something deeply wrong with her if she tries so, so hard to live up to this standard and still falls short. The feeling of being a failure is so crushing she can almost physically feel it bearing down on her.

“Gracie?” Her mother says gently, “Gracie, are you alright?” Grace realizes tears are stinging at her eyes. She strains to hold them back.

“Oh, yes, Mommy, I’m okay! It’s just allergies. I, um, stopped taking Benadryl. Even if it’s over-the-counter antihistamines, drugs are drugs! Might as well be smoking the devil’s lettuce. Oh, I should get going or I won’t be early for school!” She leaves hastily, not stopping for her usual kiss not the cheek.

“Wait!” her Mother calls after her “it’s raining cats and dogs today, you’ll catch a cold, let us drive you!” All she gets in response is the sound of the door closing.

As Grace rides her beloved pink Schwinn bike to school, she can’t hold back the tears any longer. It’s early enough that not too many people are out and about, so hopefully nobody sees. She supposes she could always use that Benadryl excuse again, it’s believable enough for her. When she pulls up in front of the school, she notices two familiar figures standing in front of the main entryway. Shoot, it’s Max and Richie! She hastily wipes her eyes and stops to park and lock up her bike before approaching them. She composes herself and goes into hall monitor mode, even if her heart isn’t in it. They’d better not be hanging out here waiting to buy reefer off of the smoke club.

“Hi, Max! Hi, Richie! What are you two doing here so early?” She says, trying to keep her tone as chipper as possible.

“Oh, we have an appointment we couldn’t possibly miss,” Max tells her. Great, so they are here to buy drugs! She can’t even save her own friends from the dark, dangerous path that starts with weed and eventually leads to them smoking much worse substances under a bridge somewhere. Maybe even in Clivesdale!

“Uh, yeah,” Richie says nervously. He rubs his fingertips together. “Chad Thompson called me a cringe-ass weeb back in seventh grade, so I guess we’re going to catch him on his way in and issue an ‘outdoor swirly’, whatever that is.”

“Oh, you’re gonna love it, Richie, it’s the best! Really subverts expectations. No one would ever think they’re about to get a swirly outside.”

“Yeah, I see your vision, but I feel like I’m really not grasping the logistics. Like, there are no toilets out here, how is it even possible?”

Grace is vaguely familiar with the term (“weeb”, that is. She’s just as confused as Richie about the outdoor swirly thing). She’s pretty sure it refers to people who are into those Japanese cartoons that Richie likes so much. She’s actually heard him refer to himself that way a few times and sometimes Ruth calls him that, too. It never feels mean when she does it - it’s obvious she loves that Richie’s a “cringe-ass weeb” and she wouldn’t have him any other way. They might be two of the most lewd, crass people she’s ever met, but she has to admit their friendship is something special.

“I don’t get it,” she says “you call yourself a ‘cringe weeb’ all the time.”

“Well, he said it like it’s a bad thing! It’s not just the words we say, but the way we say them that can have a long-lasting impact. I learned that at the anti-bullying assembly!” Oh, Max and his anti-bullying quotes. Grace would never tell him this, but she thinks flipping them to be pro-bullying is quite creative of him. Entertaining, too. Sometimes, she just has to giggle at the absurdity of it. Her mood finally starts to lift. She’s glad she ran into her friends. Her friends. She can call them that now.

“Well,” she says “I’d better go do my morning perimeter sweep. See you later, boys!”

“Later, Grace!”

“Bye, Grace, see you at lunch!” Poor Richie still looks a little terrified.

The downpour lets up and becomes a light drizzle as she starts towards the gym, fully intending to go take care of that pesky side entrance so the smoke club can’t ruin class today. Then, on an impulse, she makes a u-turn. What can she say? She’s a little curious about the logistics of Max’s new trick, too. She watches as they accost Chad. Oh, an outdoor swirly just means shoving his face into the huge rain puddle that’s formed on the ground. Max does it first. He moves slowly and intentionally, giving Richie instructions to accompany the demonstration. Appropriating the very forces of nature to enforce his rule over Hatchetfield High. It’s actually kind of poetic. She wonders what his backup plan was if it didn’t rain.

Max hands Chad off to Richie. Chad struggles, but can’t seem to get free. Richie must be stronger than he looks. His hesitation disappears and he moves with more confidence, seeming to delight in the torment just a little. He pushes Chad’s face down into the puddle, holds it there for a second, then yanks him out so they’re face to face, leaning over him menacingly.

“Who’s the cringe-ass weeb now, bitch? Trick question, it’s still me! But I bet you’ll think twice before talking shit about it next time,” he says as he shoves Chad to the ground.

“You guys are un-fuckin’-hinged! I don’t care what anyone says, I’m reporting this. You basically just tried to drown me!”

Maybe Grace can be of some assistance. “I’m the hall monitor and that’s not what I saw,” she says.

“Oh, hi Grace! I thought you left to go do your rounds,” says Max, as upbeat as ever.

“What did you see, Grace?” There’s a mischievous glint in Richie’s eyes.

“Well, Richie, I saw him shove you into that puddle. Completely unprovoked, no less. You were just standing here minding your own business. He held you down for a solid thirty seconds. I was scared he was going to drown you! I was about to go get a teacher, but then you finally broke free.”

“Fuck off, chastity belt! Who would believe that? He’s not even wet.” If Ruth were here, she’d have something to say about that phrasing.

“Well, for one, the principal would, because I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this, but I’m the hall monitor and I’ve never given him a reason not to trust me. Who’s he going to believe between the two of us?” As childish as she knows it is, she can’t help but stick her tongue out at him. “How could you attack poor Richie like that? What’s he ever done to you?”

“Yeah! Oh my god, Richie, are you okay? That must have been traumatic for you,” Max says dramatically. It seems like he’s having fun with this.

“I’ll- I’ll live,” replies Richie, trying to sound meek and pathetic. It’s not too much of a reach for him.

“Your life is so hard and yet you’re so brave,” Max says with feigned solemnity. Richie pauses for a second, as if he’s debating what he should do next, then theatrically throws his arms around Max and buries his face in his chest. He adds a couple fake sobs for good measure.

“It’s okay, bro. It’s okay. We’ve got you.” Max smirks as he pats his back. Richie stays in position, but raises one of his arms in order to flip Chad off.

“God, fine, whatever!” Chad storms off.

“Grace,” Max says excitedly “that was awesome! You know, I always forget you’re the hall monitor.”

“Yeah,” Richie adds “We’ve really been sleeping on the potential for abuse of power!”

There’s a thought. She’s had real power this whole time, she wasn’t leveraging it to its full potential. It’s a shame - if she’d realized this sooner, she would’ve been much more effective at keeping the hallways free of debauchery. She’ll just have to make up for lost time.

“Just doing my job,” she says, now sporting her own mischievous grin.

And if she actually had fun hamming it up with Max and Richie and she’s a little proud that she was able to help them pull off their stunt, then that’s her business.

Before Grace knows it, it’s the end of the school day and she doesn’t feel like going home and being interrogated about this morning just yet. She sends her parents a quick text claiming that there’s an “emergency abstinence club meeting” and begins to wander the hallways aimlessly until she reaches the auditorium. She knows they’re currently doing rehearsals for The Barbecue Monologues. Ruth is always complaining about the actors flubbing their lines and messing up her lighting cues. Up until now, she hasn’t had much of an interest in the show. Apparently, it contains some foul language and references to sex (in a high school production! What is this world coming to?), but she has to pick her battles and her effort to get homecoming canceled has been time-consuming enough. Curiosity gets the better of her and she slips into the auditorium. She’s not sure what she expects to see, but it certainly isn’t Ruth standing center stage absolutely belting her heart out. Her voice is angelic and she puts so much passion and raw emotion into her performance. Beholding it is an almost religious experience. Grace would know.

The number draws to a close and Grace can’t help but applaud.

“Oh, no, my anxiety! Who’s there?” Ruth cries.

“Ruth, that was beautiful! If you’re that good, why aren’t you in the show? You should be the lead!”

“What, no! I’m way too nervous to do that! Plus it’s too late, rehearsals have already started and Trevor’s the lead.”

“Well, what if he wasn’t?” Grace says with a conspiratorial grin.

“But he is,” Ruth replies, not quite sure what she’s getting at.

“Have a little faith, Ruth! Things can change.”

Oh, no, she’s snapping again.

#nerdy prudes must die #npmd #npmd corruption au #grace chasity #max jagerman #peter spankoffski #stephanie lauter #richie lipschitz #ruth fleming #hatchetfield #lautski #cw drug mention

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rhondafromhr · 4 months

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Chapter 3 of the nerds corruption au

Update: this is still consuming my life and I’m not even mad about it. I’m just straight up having a good time.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

“We’re Gonna Become the Bullies” - Chapter 3: Hold Me Closer Than Before

Peter can’t believe he’s actually doing this. He’s going to go confront Brad Callahan. Not only that, he has Max goddamn Jägerman psyching him up to do it. The same Max Jägerman that was beating him up for trying to talk to Steph not even a week ago. If Max still objected to it now, he probably would’ve said something about them holding hands, so it looks like they have his blessing. Pete’s really glad Steph joined them. It’s both endearing and kind of hot how fired up she is to defend him.

They finally track Brad down in the hallway and corner him. Max takes the lead, shoving him up against a locker and snarling, “Did I not make myself clear that Spankoffski is off-limits now? Who the fuck do you think you are that you get to talk to him like that? The order of things here at Hatchetfield High has changed and there’s nothing your weak ass can do about it, so you’re going to show him some goddamn respect from now on.”

“Oh, what, just because I called him one little name? He’s suddenly too cool for ‘Micro-Peter’ just ‘cause you said so?” Brad fires back.

“What are you, new here? Yes he fucking is, that’s how it works! Don’t forget, I’m your god,” Max says, staring him down with unbridled fury in his eyes “And now, so are these two. So we’re going to make sure the message gets through your thick skull this time. Steph, I believe you mentioned something you’ve always dreamed of doing.” Max restrains him while Stephanie raises her arm and backhands him hard, her other one still gripping Pete’s. How’s that for learning to multitask, Miss Tessburger? she thinks smugly. God, that was fucking cathartic.

Max turns his attention to Peter, Brad still in his grip. “Okay, Pete, you’re up! Throw a punch, show me what you’ve got!”

Peter reluctantly lets go of Stephanie’s hand and begins winding up his fist. He has no idea what he’s doing. The closest he’s ever gotten to a fight was that one time he tried to stand up to Max and that didn’t exactly work out in his favor. Or maybe it did? It was the catalyst for the Waylon place incident, which is the whole reason he’s in Max’s good graces. But, he realizes, if he wants to stay there, it would do him some good to impress Max and not throw a weak, half-assed punch right now. To motivate himself, he thinks back to the pantsing incident, growing angrier and angrier as he remembers how small and humiliated and helpless Brad made him feel. Suddenly, punching Brad square in the face as hard as he can stops being an obligation to hesitantly fulfill and becomes a long-overdue opportunity he absolutely relishes. As Pete’s fist slams into his face, Brad tries to play it off like it doesn’t hurt, but the pained groan he lets out is unmistakable. Holy cow, Pete realizes, he gave him a black eye!

“Good job! That was actually really good for a first try. I could feel the righteous fury just radiating off of you. Chills. I’ve got chills right now,” Max says encouragingly.

“Oh, um, thanks. That’s what I was going for,” Pete replies, a little dazed.

“You, too, Steph. The form on that slap? Absolutely impeccable. You might even be able to teach me a few things.”

“Well, I have been training for this. At this point I’ve probably done like ten thousand practice runs of this scenario in my head,” Stephanie deadpans.

“Well, team, this has been fun, but we’ve gotta get to class now, so this trash’ll just have to deposit itself into the nearest receptacle!” Max releases Brad, who books it to get away from them. Looks like their message sunk in.

Later that day, Peter sits in Calc and as hard as he tries to focus, his mind keeps wandering back to the incident with Brad. Even if he didn’t do it alone, he can’t believe he actually beat somebody up. He feels like he should feel at least a little bit guilty, but he doesn’t, and he feels a little guilty for that. Then again, why should he? When has Brad been anything but a complete asshole to him? Still, it kind of concerns him how good it felt to be the one in control for once. Before he can dwell on it too much, a stern, clear voice over the intercom interrupts his internal debate.

“Would Stephanie Lauter, Peter Spankoffski and Max Jägerman please report to the principal’s office immediately? I repeat, Stephanie Lauter, Peter Spankoffski and Max Jägerman to the principal’s office.” Well, there’s a sentence he never thought he’d hear. Even just “Peter Spankoffski to the principal’s office” would be unusual. He really should’ve been prepared for this, but the possibility didn’t even cross his mind. Somehow, it felt like being with Max would give him some sort of immunity. He packs his things and stands up to leave, hyper-aware of his classmates’ curious gazes burning into him.

When he arrives outside of Principal Blim’s office, Steph and Max are already there waiting for him. Stephanie slouches in the cheap, blue plastic chair and seems more bored than anything. Much to her father’s dismay, this is a pretty familiar scene for her. Max just looks confused and possibly a little nervous. Peter supposes that makes sense; there’s a good chance he’s never been here, either. Max has been doing stuff like this for years and hasn’t gotten in trouble once. The school cares way more about keeping their star quarterback on the field and beating Clivesdale than they do about bullying. Principal Blim cracks open the door and pokes his head out.

“Oh, good, you’re all here. Take a minute to collect yourselves if you need and come on in. Let’s start a dialogue,” he says.

Stephanie notices how tense the boys both look. She can’t help but crack a smile. It goes without saying that Pete is adorable, but the sight of literal monster Max Jägerman dropping his tough-guy persona and acting like a scared little kid about getting a scolding from their (honestly pretty chill and understanding) principal is pretty entertaining, too. She squeezes Pete’s hand and gives Max a little pat on his shoulder.

“It’ll be alright,” she whispers as they all head in. It seems to relax them a little bit.

Principal Blim’s office is surprisingly cramped. Or maybe it just feels that way due to almost every inch of wall being covered in cheesy motivational posters, many of which feature adorable cats in ridiculous situations. Peter thinks maybe it’s supposed to brighten up the room and make it feel less intimidating, but to be honest it’s having the opposite effect on him right now. What is it that Max always says about intent versus impact?

“Well, I assume you all know why I called you here today,” he says gently. Stephanie shakes her head and gives him the most puzzled look she can manage. Max and Pete follow her lead.

“You know, owning up to our mistakes is the first step towards doing better. But you don’t seem quite ready to do that, so I’ll spell it out for you. You’re here because the three of you attacked Brad Callahan this afternoon. Quite frankly, this is, as the kids say, ‘out of pocket’ for all three of you, but especially you, Mr. Spankoffski.” How is this in any way out of pocket for Max? Peter always assumed the school administration chose to look the other way on his behavior, but maybe they really are oblivious to it. “Now, I can’t let this slide without issuing some sort of punishment, but I’m willing to hear you out before I make any decisions. You’re all good kids, why did you lash out at Brad like that?”

“He was, um, he was picking on Hannah Foster again!” Stephanie exclaims “We all saw! He’s always making fun of her for stuff she can’t even help and he won’t stop no matter what we say to him! We had to do something, but we just felt so powerless. Believe me, we didn’t want to resort to violence but we just didn’t know what else to do.” Man, being able to cry on command would be awesome right now. Maybe Ruth knows some theater kids that can teach her.

“Yeah,” Peter adds “we couldn’t just stand by and let him pick on a defenseless freshman! Being a bystander is just as bad as bullying. You said so yourself at the anti-bullying assembly!”

“I did say that,” Principal Blim admits “And this isn't the first I’ve heard about Brad giving Hannah trouble. I can see where you’re coming from. Standing up to bullying is always admirable, although your execution was less than ideal. I’ll let you kids off with a warning for today, but if you see Brad bothering Hannah again please just come to me with your concerns instead of escalating things to the point of physical violence.”

“We will! Thanks, Principal Blim! Go Nighthawks!” says Max cheerfully.

“Mm-hmm. Go Nighthawks, fuck Clivesdale. Stay out of trouble, you three.” On that note, he ushers them out of his office.

Once they’re safely back in the hallway and out of earshot, Max holds one hand out to each of them for a fist bump, which they awkwardly return.

“Good thinking back there,” he tells them “you guys are so smart!”

“We learned it from watching you,” Pete points out “using anti-bullying rhetoric to perpetuate bullying is kind of your signature move. I hate to admit it, but it’s pretty clever. And it clearly works.”

“Yeah, it really came in clutch today. If my dad got a call from the school about this, he’d hold my phone hostage even longer. You’re kind of genius for coming up with it,” Stephanie adds.

Max sniffles. “Thanks. That’s, like, the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Wow,” says Stephanie, feeling a sense of déjà vu “that’s really sad.”

“I guess it is.” Max chuckles. “It’s just, I don’t feel smart most of the time. I have horrible grades in most of my classes, even remedial algebra. My dad’s always on my ass about it, too. Says I’m lucky I can throw a football because I don’t even have two brain cells to rub together.”

“Well, what the fuck does he know, anyway?” Stephanie spits, suddenly furious at this man she’s never met. This hits way too close to home for her. “Grades aren’t everything. Look at me, my grades are abysmal, but read my takes on Twitter sometime. Some say I’m the voice of a generation.” She hopes her encouragement makes him feel a little better, at least, but she knows all too well that it’s not enough to heal years of having a shitty dad who loathes your existence and devalues you at every opportunity. She thinks of the striking parallel to her own father’s favorite jab: “I want to have an intelligent conversation with you. In other words, shut up.”

“I concur,” says Pete “Ruth and Richie both have really good grades and they’re absolute disasters sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I love ‘em both, but it’s true. Even they’d probably agree with me. Ruth’s an anomaly, I’ll never understand how somebody who regularly blows off homework to write erotic Star Wars fanfiction keeps her GPA so- You know what, I’m getting a little off-topic, but the point is you’re smarter than you think you are, Max.”

A lump forms in Max’s throat and his eyes water. “Thanks, guys. That, uh, that means a lot.” He pulls them into a group hug more gently than either of them would have thought possible for him. They hug him back tightly and after a solid thirty seconds they reluctantly let go. Honestly, all three of them could stand to be hugged more.

#nerdy prudes must die #npmd #npmd corruption au #max jagerman #peter spankoffski #stephanie lauter #hatchetfield #lautski #my favorite part of this might be Max instantly switching up from lautski hater to lautski shipper #ruth fleming #cw child abuse mention #cw emotional abuse #brad callahan #max jagermans shitty dad #solomon lauter

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