#{ hopefully this works! just opening it up at the start of the second session / rank 3 ^-^ }

[7-wonders]

All the Debts I Owe

Sith!Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Summary: A routine Rebellion meeting goes horribly wrong when the Empire discovers the coordinates, but the Force has other plans for you besides death and chaos. Enter none other than the Sith Lord who's become a perennial thorn in your side.

Word count: 3.8k

A note from the author: Hello there! It's been a while since I've actually written anything (like, six months), so I hope this is good! This fic is a part of my Rebel-verse, where reader is a Rebel and Anakin is Darth Vader, just without the crispiness and chopped-off limbs.

(Also, there are a couple of little Easter eggs in here that you'll hopefully pick up on if you've read my other works in this AU. Let me know when you find them!)

I sincerely hope you enjoy, and if you do, I'd love to hear from you! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks make my world go round :)

“...and the cost of fighter fuel will be supplemented by our trade alliance with Endor,” General Kessyk finishes reading from the tablet in front of her, and you have to hold in a sigh of relief when you realize that she’s reached the end of her prepared remarks.

The clock ticking loudly on the wall in the meeting room of the Rebel base on Mandalore has been the only thing keeping you from zoning out during the last half hour of the special session called by General Kessyk. When you joined the Rebel Alliance, you pictured your life to be nonstop action, fighting battles and gathering intelligence in the fight against the Galactic Empire. And sure, that’s been a good chunk of your time as a Rebel. But as you’ve climbed the ranks and slowly earned your way into a leadership position, you’ve come to the unfortunate realization that being in charge of the Rebellion involves a lot more administrative duties than you anticipated.

Including sitting through a boring budget meeting, of all things, to discuss how the Rebellion will be funded for the next half rotation.

Oona, your friend and second in command when your crew is out on a mission, nudges your side and slips a piece of paper into your hand. When you open it and look down to read the message, you have to hold in a burst of laughter. “Should I bring up the General’s shiny new robes and ask where the budget for that came from?” it reads.

“I don’t know what would be the worse reaction, her getting upset at your insubordination or her pulling out a detailed expenditure report,” you scribble quickly and hand it back to her.

Oona shoots you a cheeky grin and starts to write her own response, only for you both to be startled out of your merriment by the general calling your name.

“Yes, General?” you ask, pretending like you’ve been listening the entire time and definitely not forcing yourself to count each tick of the clock to keep from dozing off.

“I was inquiring about the status of your requested budget for the Jedi recruitment mission in the Outer Rim, Commander.” Though the Togruta tries to look stern, you can see the way that her lips just barely twitch as she tries to hide the soft spot she has for your antics. Kessyk has a tough exterior, indeed, but she fiercely loves those under her command, and has to often remind herself that she’s in charge.

“Of course.” You begin to pull up your (hastily completed last night) budget request when your heart seizes in your chest. 

The Force screams danger! at you a split second before the unmistakable sounds of TIE fighters overhead ring in your ears. Red sirens alerting the base of adversaries start screeching, and everybody scrambles to well-rehearsed places to try and decipher what’s going on. You unclip your lightsaber and ignite it, as do a couple of other assembled Force users. It’s second nature at this point to assume command of a crisis situation, so you look to your trusted right-hand woman, already at a blaster cannon.

“Oona, set blasters to fire and send out a distress signal to the fleet!” She nods, and you focus on the next order of business: getting out there and fighting whatever it is that’s come to attack.

Unfortunately, bombs drop before you can even take a step, giving way to screaming and smoke and, eventually, silence.

•••

In the years since he eschewed the Jedi Order and turned to the Dark Side, Darth Vader has gotten very good at compartmentalizing. Restoring peace throughout the galaxy and carrying out the Emperor’s wishes could often be brutal and bloody, so he had to make sure that he wouldn’t crack under the strain of the horrors he both witnessed and carried out. It was a little like turning a switch on and off. Before a mission, the humanity that he held within him, that wish for no more death and destruction, was hidden away, instead replaced entirely by Sith values. He was then able to do what must be done without any hesitation. 

(The aftermath of turning that switch back on and being faced with what he had done was horrific, but he secretly felt as though he deserved it—that it was his penance for all of the pain that he caused.)

There were times when compartmentalizing was easier said than done—killing the younglings all those years ago at the Jedi Temple, for example, had truly tested his newfound ability to do so. But there are other times, such as when intelligence points the Galactic Empire to a meeting of the top forces of the Rebel Alliance, that make it easy to shut a more humane part of him down and focus on the victory ahead. And now, as he stands aboard his destroyer and stares down at the smoldering carnage of the Rebellion’s Mandalore base, victory tastes sweet.

“Lord Vader, I have good news.” Admiral Batch, one of the few admirals not petrified of him, sidles up next to him. “The Rebels were caught completely off-guard, and as a result, we can confirm there have been over 20 casualties of high-ranking members of the Rebel Alliance.”

“Good news indeed,” Vader speaks through the modulator of his mask. “Are there any confirmed names that we can take back to the Emperor?”

“None for certain, until we can get down there and see identities for ourselves. We do know that General Kessyk was in the building, as well as a number of Force-sensitive Rebels.”

The moment that last fact actually registers with Darth Vader is the moment that his carefully constructed cruel facade collapses, allowing the Force to finally come screaming at him and tell him of the major mistake he’s made. How could he have not thought of the possibility that you, his Rebel, would be involved in this meeting? Through both Empire intelligence gatherings and the begrudging revelations from you that your responsibilities had been increasing due to your importance in the Rebellion, he should have made the connection that you were now one of those high-ranking members.

Instead, he allowed his anger and his passion to cloud his thinking until the only thing he could focus on was winning. It’s a move that has brought him pain countless times in the past, and now, it seeks to do so again. Vader has to force himself to remain calm, lest he lose control of his emotions and allow his connection to the Force to wreak havoc on his surroundings. 

He takes a couple of deep breaths before feeling like he can speak in a level tone. “Thank you, Admiral Batch.”

The admiral bows his head in respect. “My lord,” he says, turning and heading back to the command center on the destroyer.

There’s not a moment to spare once the panel to the observation deck seals and leaves him alone. He needs to get down to the surface of Mandalore before any Stormtrooper teams can beat him there and start confirming the dead and injured. Darth Vader hurries back to his chambers, where he sheds his bulky uniform and switches into a set of unassuming robes. Clipping his lightsaber to his belt, he pulls his hood up over his head and proceeds to sneak out of the destroyer and into a cruiser—an easy feat when one has the Force on their side.

The Rebel base, once so well hidden in one of the capital’s abandoned industrial districts, is now completely exposed after the barrage of Empire bombs shelled through its defenses. Rubble and detritus are strewn in every direction, making his path to the coordinates of the meeting room that much more difficult to maneuver. Vader takes great care to stay hidden under any outcroppings of the ceiling still standing, hyperaware of the fact that he could be spotted at any moment.

When he finally reaches the room where the Rebellion’s best and brightest were meeting, he pauses as he takes in the carnage in front of him. It’s nowhere near the first time that he’s stood in a room full of bodies, their injuries and deaths partially (sometimes fully) attributed to him. But it is the first time that he’s been so concerned for the welfare of one of the potential bodies. Vader’s frantic eyes scan the faces of the dead and wounded, both hoping and not to see you among them. If he doesn’t see you, it either means that you’re somewhere safe and far away from here or that you’re buried so far under the wreckage that he’ll never be able to find you. Likewise, if he does see you, he’ll have concrete proof that you’re either alive…

…Or dead.

A pit opens up in his stomach at the mental image he’s unconsciously created, and he forces his eyes to work faster, to take in more and more information until there’s no doubt left for his mind to play with. Finally, in the corner of the room, he sees your face peeking out from behind a crumbling column. He has the briefest moment of deliberation, a ghost whispering in his ear that he’s gotten too wrapped up in this whole situation, persuading him to turn back now, cut his losses, and find something else to focus his attention on. Then there’s a pop and a sizzle, a chunk of ceiling breaking off and hitting a pile of embers across the room, and the ghost disappears.

It feels like Vader teleports with how fast he makes it to you, though that is not a skill that the Force grants. Falling to his knees at your side, his hand shakes as he places two fingers on your neck, terrified of the potential outcome when he tries to find a pulse. After a stressful few moments, he’s relieved to feel your pulse beating steadily under your skin. With the knowledge that you’re firmly alive in mind, he takes a moment to actually look you over. 

You’re covered in blood and soot, making it difficult for him to determine where you’re injured. Your right arm is definitely broken, and it looks like your right ankle is, too. The extent of your injuries can be determined later by a medical droid. What matters now is that you’re alive, and that you’re stable. 

Everything else is secondary.

•••

The first thing you realize upon waking up is that you have no memory of how you came to be in a position where you would need to wake up. The last thing you remember, you were trading notes with Oona to pass the time during a budget meeting. Now you’re here…if only you knew where ‘here’ was.

It’s more difficult for you to open your eyes than it normally is, and when you do finally pry them open, your blurry vision prevents you from discerning where you are. Picking a light source in the distance, you focus on that until the room finally comes into focus and you see that you’re surrounded by white. White walls, white floors, white counters. The logical part of your brain says that it could mean you’re in a medbay. But the logical part of your brain feels…fuzzy, almost. Like there’s a blanket of clouds settled over your consciousness and making silly notions like logic and reason fly somewhere far away

“Am I dead?” you ask yourself.

Somebody laughs at you from across the room, and you look to see none other than Darth Vader, sans mask and cape and all other vestments that he wears as a Sith Lord, strolling towards you. “No, thankfully.”

Blinking rapidly doesn’t get him to disappear in a mirage, but it does serve to dry out your already-unreliable eyes. “Well, now I really think that I might be dead.”

“Not if I had anything to say about it. Which, I did, and it’s why you’re not dead.”

A puff of air leaves your nose—it’s meant to come out as a laugh, but parts of your body seem to not want to cooperate today, so a puff of air is all you manage. The action makes your nose begin to itch fiercely, and as you jerkily lift your hand to alleviate the sensation, you’re stopped at the sight of the blue bacta cast that covers your arm from wrist to elbow.

“Oh.”

“The med droids did it,” he explains sheepishly, as though you might be mad at somebody attempting to heal what must be a significant injury. “Your right ankle is in a cast, too, as are your ribs. The report from the droid earlier said that your injuries are healing at the expected rate, so you should only need to be in them for a few more cycles.”

“What happened?” you mumble.

“What do you remember?” Vader asks.

“There was a meeting, and I was getting called out by Kessyk for not paying attention. Then…” you try to think, but the blanket of clouds presses down on you further and makes everything scatter. “Ugh, I feel funny.”

“Pretty sure you’re on some heavy painkillers right now.” He grabs a tablet from the end of your bed and looks at it. “You’re definitely on some heavy painkillers right now,” he amends.

“How did I get injured enough to need enough drugs to take down a bantha?”

“The Empire received intelligence that some high-ranking members of the Rebellion would be meeting on Mandalore, and the decision was made to carry out a bombing mission. I didn’t even begin to think that you were one of those high-ranking members until after the bombs had been dropped.”

“Wow, you don’t think I’m good enough at my job to be a high-ranking Rebel?” If you had full control over yourself right now, you would be slapping a horrified hand over your mouth and begging yourself to shut up. Instead, you giggle (oh, the horror) at Vader’s panicked expression and bat at his hands with your own uninjured one. “I’m just messing with you. We both know that I’m really good at my job.”

“We do,” he agrees before continuing. “I couldn’t just leave without knowing if you were there, so I commandeered a fighter and went down myself. When I saw you laying there, injured…I wouldn't leave you to whatever your fate might have been if I hadn’t interfered. So I brought you here, to my fortress on Mustafar, to recover.”

A med droid interrupts your conversation when it begins to do a routine round through the medbay and sees that you’re awake. You allow it to poke and prod you, checking your vitals and doing whatever scans it needs, aware the whole time of Vader watching you. His stare is unwavering, closely supervising the droid as though it might rebel against its circuitry and try to harm you instead of heal you. When the droid chirps at him, he glares.

“I am letting you do your job, 21-B,” he huffs.

More chirping, followed by a whistle.

“That’s uncalled for.”

“You can understand it?” you ask, watching the scene in front of you with amusement.

“I’ve been able to understand droids since I was a young boy. For better or for worse.”

When 21-B beeps, even you can tell it's displeased. Vader rolls his eyes and proceeds to argue with the droid a bit longer before turning to you.

“Your temperature is starting to rise a little, and 21-B’s worried it’s an early sign of infection. He wants to give you some medicine to combat that. Is that alright?” You’re a little surprised that Vader is both taking the time to explain the droid’s requests to you and making sure that you consent to the care plan.

You nod, and 21-B begins to fiddle with the IV in your hand before injecting what you assume is the needed medicine into your line. There must be a sedative effect to this medication as well, because your body quickly begins to feel like gravity is no longer going to be able to hold you down anymore. You try to fight the way that your eyes flutter, willing yourself to keep focused on Vader. There are still so many questions you have that need answered!

“Do you know who died?” you ask quietly, using the stores of strength you still have within you to speak.

“Not for certain. There was…a lot of carnage when I came to find you. I couldn’t see who was alive and who wasn’t.”

“Oh.” Although such a revelation certainly warrants a better reaction, one syllable is all that you can muster.

Vader smiles just slightly at your struggle. “Focus on resting, and I’ll see if I can find answers for you, okay?”

You think you mutter an affirmative answer, but unconsciousness pulls at you before you can be sure. 

Though it feels like you merely blink, when you open your eyes once more, the shadows in the medbay are much longer than they were when you last saw them. One glance around the room reveals Darth Vader sitting in a chair at the foot of your bed, watching something on a holocron. When he notices you struggle into a sitting position, he powers it off and tosses it on a counter behind him.

“How are you feeling?” he asks softly.

“Better,” you respond truthfully. You feel a little stronger than you did earlier; your mind is markedly clearer, too.

“Good. The droid said that your temperature returned to normal about an hour ago.”

“That’s good.” 

Even though you should be focused on yourself, asking more questions about your own prognosis, your mind is with your team and your fellow Rebels—or, you fear, what’s left of them.

“Did you…learn any of the names of the injured and dead?” you ask.

Vader nods and takes a deep breath (Does his face lose a little color? you wonder as you watch his expression for any clues). “I did. General Kessyk is dead.”

You’re almost expecting that answer, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. And in a normal circumstance, you would hide that hurt until you could break down away from anybody. But this isn’t a normal circumstance. You’re hurt and thankful to be alive and probably still a little high on pain meds, which is why you have to stare intensely down at the cast on your arm to keep the stray tears that hit your blanket from turning into full-on crying in Darth Vader’s presence. To his credit, he is incredibly patient with you, remaining silent and giving you the space to feel your feelings. 

You manage to get yourself under control quicker than expected, sniffling a couple of times before you can meet his eyes again.

“My second in command—my best friend—was there with me.” It’s hard to get the words out, as a selfish part of you wants to not ask, but instead live in this gray area where she’s both alive and not. “Did you hear anything about someone named Oona?”

The control that you had been so proud of yourself for exercising crumbles the moment that you hear him say that Oona’s injured, but alive. Tears that were vanquished mere moments ago return in full force until you’re sobbing.

Not just crying, no. Sobbing. Like, gross, heaving sobs. The type of sobbing that will most definitely leave you feeling embarrassed later for having such an emotional reaction. At the moment, though, sobbing seems like the only way to properly express your feelings. Relief, at Oona being alive. Grief, for your general and likely a number of others who have lost their lives. And something bittersweet—some emotion you can’t truly place—for yourself and the position you’ve found yourself in.

After a few moments of indecision, Vader rises awkwardly from his chair and hovers inches away from you, unsure of what to do.

“I’m so sorry, Anakin,” you try to apologize in between sobs. “Really, I’m just—”

“Please don’t apologize,” he insists uncomfortably as your breath gets caught in your throat, causing you to almost hyperventilate as you try to remember how to breathe.

Darth Vader is a Sith Lord, and you’re a Force-sensitive Rebel; enemies, that much is true. But first and foremost, you’re both human beings who possess human traits and tendencies. Vader can’t help but sympathize with you, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder before he’s even fully aware of the action. Likewise, when your body recognizes another human who’s willing to provide you comfort in a time of need, it acts by taking his hand in your own and beginning to pull him down onto the bed before logic can say otherwise. 

“You don’t want me to hold you,” Vader tries to convince you while he’s climbing onto the bed with you and carefully avoiding your various bacta casts to slide his arms around you, somehow unaware that he’s the one taking the comfort further than just the simple hand-holding and proximity that you initiated. “I–I’m the reason for this. You should be sending me away.”

“Shut up,” you mumble into his chest through hiccuping sobs. 

Already, your breath seems to come a little easier, your tears a little lighter. And the Force, which is always humming around you with something to say, has gone contentedly silent. 

When you find yourself calm enough to dry your eyes and lift your head off of Vader’s chest, you have to fight a sudden bout of shyness to be able to actually look at him. “Sorry for crying on you so much,” you mumble bashfully.

“I promise you, there’s nothing to be sorry for,” Vader assures. “If anything, I’m surprised that you aren’t angry at me.”

“How can I be, when I would have done the exact same thing?”

He doesn’t bother to hide his shock. “Really?”

“Yes,” you admit with a laugh. “I absolutely would have bombed a meeting of Empire officials, and then belatedly realized you were probably there and tried to get you out safely against my better judgment.”

“Judgment seems to not be either of our strong suits right now. None of what’s happening to us follows any rationale,” Vader says.

“No,” you agree. “We should be mortal enemies.”

“Absolutely.” Vader tightens his grip around you. “Once we figure out why the Force keeps doing this to us, we’re right back to trying to kill each other without any qualms.”

“So glad we’re on the same page.”

You’re so on the same page, in fact, that neither you nor Vader let go of the other. Better to keep the Force happy, right?

[n-blanca-archived]

↳ CLASS 1-A HC’S TO MAKE YOU SMILE (hopefully) 

A/N: i’ve been on class-1a brainrot (yes, all of them. collectively) for SO LONG and honestly? I love it here. romance is all good and dandy but FRIENDSHIP? good shit. 

on that note, these pairings are all platonic! just little things i like about their dynamics or things i think they’d do when they hang out :) feel free to see them as romantic though, not like i can stop you :P

p.s sorry for dipping??? for like months???

genre: fluff

warnings: minor situational angst

→ Denki & Izuku

❑ These two boys are the other’s hype-man, totally. Kaminari absolutely does not mind sitting through Izuku’s ravings about the fluctuating hero rankings, or even just the times where Izuku mutters on and on. 

❑ Kaminari’s been ignored enough times to know that it doesn’t feel good at all to want to talk to someone and for them to sheepishly tell you they’d long since stopped listening. Izuku does the same for Denki, no question. Sometimes Denki starts talking, and he doesn’t really...stop. 

❑ But Izuku finds it’s nice to hang out with the boy, and he doesn’t mind not contributing to the conversation when Denki looks so elated to see someone listening for once. 

❑ While I will forever be the number one advocate for Bakugou tutoring Denki and finding different studying strategies that work for Denki instead of giving up on him, I think Izuku’s just as likely to do that for kami! 

❑ It’s a frustrating first session, but once Izuku’s brian suggests that Kami might just need another method of studying, he takes that idea and runs with it. 

❑ The next week, kami goes to Izuku’s room a little afraid of the freckled boy rejecting him- but to his surprise, Izuku presents him with all types of new study methods, including colored index cards and a home-made sentence reader that covered the entire page except for one line at a time.

❑ (yes, he did tear up for a second.) 

❑ They end up going through that week's chapter in half the time it usually took Denki to get a subject, and they got to play video games afterward! 

→ Ochako & Katsuki

❑ While I don't think the boys in 1-A look down on the girls in the sense of "but they're girls so they are weaker :(" all that much- Katsuki was the first and only one really to make that clear. He didn't see her as something or someone to pity. She was an opponent and a damn capable one at that.

❑ So, yes. Maybe Ochako and Katsuki aren't exactly best friends who'd die for each other. But they’ve proven to each other that if there's someone who'll bring their all to a fight no matter the circumstance, it's each other.

❑ Ochako’s weariness when it came to Katsuki was short lived. It was kind of hard to be so...afraid of someone who treated you better than others seemed to coddle her when she told them she was a hero-in-training. 

❑ It starts small, too. At first it was just teaming up occasionally during class for spars. Then it was going to the gym after school with Katsuki and Eijirou. 

❑ Tiny little hang-outs like that then turn into joining the blonde on his morning runs every once in a while, and eventually Ochako found herself seeking out Bakugou every weekend, and the blonde seemed to be on the same mind-track, too. Every Sunday, when Ochako pulled open the front door, she spotted Katsuki, stretching out in the front lawn, waiting for her. 

❑ (and if they occasionally have breakfast together after their bi-weekly sunday training sessions, then that's their business.)

→ Shouto & Eijirou

❑ them hanging out wasn't really ever. Expected. Like, at all.

❑ but kirishima's shown that he has a knack for weird, almost hostile awkward boys with low friend counts

❑ so shouto fits right in

❑ really it starts when Kirishima finds Shouto in the common room, staring into space. Usually he'd leave him be, but it was weird to see the boy without his group of friends joining him

❑ in an effort to get to know shouto better, kiri offers to play a few rounds of super smash bros,,, and shouto just. blinks. at him. And kiri blinked back for a second before he realizes shouto didn't know what super smash bros was

❑ and of course, to kiri, that's absolute blasphemy

❑ so kiri abandons his trip to the kitchen in favor of sitting next to shouto on the couch, and teaching him how to play as many video games as they could fit in one night

❑ (the first time kiri sees shouto laugh, he can't help the way his face splits into a grin. Todoroki, while not mean, was someone who came off as cold most of the time, so to see him so relaxed made Eijirou feel warm.)

❑ somehow it becomes a regular thing-- shouto would come downstairs, and eventually Kirishima would show up. Sometimes they were both alone, sometimes they were surrounded by their friend groups. But every time without fail, Kirishima would take his place next to shouto, hand him the blue controller that he favored, and turned on the TV to select the first game they'd be playing

❑ (watching Shouto start to gain some of Kirishima's vernacular was also an interesting - read:hilarious - experience)

→ Mina & Yuga

❑break dancing buddies

❑ like. I'm not kidding these two have moves.

❑ well. Mina does, at least. Aoyama gets it pretty quickly but it took him a second to familiarize himself with how your body moves when your break dancing.

❑ aoyama's danced ballet most of his life, so dancing wasn't new to him

❑ but this particular type of dancing was new to him- so of course he reached out to mina after the UA festival

❑ mina, ever the angel, agreed!!!!! Dancing buddies!!!

❑ Mina's also loved dance for a good amount of time

❑ it started in middle school, and just carried into highschool. The idea of being to express yourself with your /body/ was exciting, plus you looked really cool while doing it too!

❑ so when she gets asked by Aoyama to teach him how to breakdance she's nervous, but completely giddy to be able to be someone else's intro to a hobby that was a big part of her life

❑ it's not an uncommon sight to see mina and Aoyama, in their workout clothes, working through moves Step by step with Mina's phone blasting some random song that was beat heavy

❑ (Aoyama would be an interesting extra add on to the bakusquad. Am I wrong? No 🚗)

→ Hanta & Tsuyu

❑ Sero never really interacted with tsuyu, not to say he didn't like her! she just wasn't in his social circle

❑ so to say he felt awkward when he found her in the corner of the library during free period- curled up and sniveling away - was an understatement

❑ still, he put down the fourth issue of a manga he was /really/ looking forward to catching up on, and sat next to her until she calmed down enough to tell him what's wrong

❑ turns out, winter always sucked and made her tired, which made her sad. Added on to the already existing amphibian instincts in her that hated loud noises or too many people, it could get really overwhelming for her

❑ Sero offered to let her into his room whever she wanted to hang out in the quiet, if she felt embarrassed to do so with her closer friends

❑ she seemed surprised, but quickly agreed.

❑ Sero wouldn't tell her, but he often felt the same in a sense. The only two people in his friend group who could be relatively quiet in more personal settings were Bakugou, ironically, and Kirishima. So he often found himself leaving group hang-outs just a little early, to destress in his quiet room.

❑ tsuyu hadn't expected him to stay with her, and especially not offer his room to her whenever she needed to get away. Still, she agreed, knowing she'd probably never take him up on his offer

❑ she was proven wrong three days later, when Ochako squealed about...something.

❑ tsuyu couldn't say for sure what the floaty girl was yelling about. Normally she was attentive, really! But her head was throbbing and she was on the verge of falling asleep then and there when Ochako burst into a loud yell of excitement, startling the frog-like girl

❑ so tsuyu gathered her stuff as quickly as her sluggish body allowed, rushed out a quick goodbye to her baffled friends and made her way to the dorms

❑ the elevator was a struggle, with the humming of the machinery almost lulling her to sleep. She made it out successfully, though due to her drowsiness and increasingly blurring vision, she realized just a little too late that she had wandered down the wrong hallway

❑ sero's name plate made her stutter in her tracks, but after a moment of deliberation that left her swaying on her feet, she knocked as strongly as she could on the thin door, hoping the lanky boy was in his room

❑ thankfully, he was, and he only offered her a small smile before ushering her into the room and guiding her to his bed. Tsuyu thinks she croaked out a tiny "thanks", but she couldn't really be sure

❑ she slept better in those 39 minutes than she had in weeks

❑ after that, tsuyu somehow got into the habit of wandering down the opposite hallway once she left the elevator, and most of the time Sero would open his door when she knocked, only giving her a smile before letting her wander to his bed or, more commonly, the pile of blankets and bean bags he had in a corner of his room.

❑ (she wouldn't admit it, and neither would he, but the times where they walked back to his dorm together once their free period began were their favorites. and the days where tsuyu wasn't so sleepy and they talked for the hour they had weren't so bad, either)

okokok i’m cutting it here since that last section was super long! who knew i had so much to say about hanta and tsuyu ,,,, 

anyway! this was super fun, so i’ll definitely be doing stuff like this more in the future. if you have two characters you’d particularly like to see, don’t be afraid to jump into my ask box! 

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Change Of Plans

Au: Mafia Au

Words: 1156

Pairing: Hatake Kakashi/ Anko

Summary: The jobs was to get into Onoki's party and make sure that Anko was safe while she was wooing her way into the targets bed. The problem? She's not the targets type.

Seduction missions aren’t Kakashi’s usual job, but Shikaku had wanted his best watching over Anko when she went into such a dangerous situation. Someone who was nearby and capable of handling an extremely dangerous situation just in case. After all, if something went terribly wrong when she was stuck in a building that was littered with Iwagakure gang members, Anko would be screwed.

Not that she couldn’t handle herself. Deadly and ruthless were the best words that Kakashi could think of to describe Anko. Though, her deadliness fit more with poisons and silent murders, rather than face-to-face confrontations.

When it came to facing the enemy down and making it out alive, that was Kakashi’s area of expertise.

So here he was. Standing in a room full of people who would kill him if they even caught a hint of who he was, watching as Anko slid up to her target’s side and started to flirt. Working her way into his good graces in hopes of getting him alone.

People always talked more when there weren’t prying ears listening in to private conversations

What he expected to witness was a successful wooing session that would result in Anko being led away to ‘private quarters’. Which would be his cue to sneak his way into the hallway and follow them to wherever it was they were going.

Make sure he was close by to help out, in case anything went wrong.

So when he instead sees Anko slinking away from her target, an annoyed look on her face, he knows that something’s wrong. Perhaps the target already had someone in mind, or he was too busy trying to chat up the people around him to pay Anko any attention.

Whatever it was, he knew he’d have the answer as soon as she pulled her phone out of her pocket and started typing. Most likely sending him a detailed description of-

His phone vibrated in his pocket.

Frowning, he dug it out and clicked the button on the side to see the message that Anko had sent him.

Not his type.

What was that supposed to mean? Anko was drop-dead gorgeous, with a voice that could make a person melt. How could anyone look at her and not be interested?

Unless…

Frowning, he opened the message and waited for his screen to spring to life. Allowing him to type out one simple word to confirm his suspicions.

Gay?

It’s only a few seconds before her answer rolls in, and his suspicions are confirmed with a simple rainbow flag emoji. There was someone slacking in Shikaku’s ranks, and Kakashi didn’t appreciate it. If they had done their research they could have sent in someone capable of doing the job from the start instead of wasting Anko’s time like this.

Now they were crunched to find a new solution. The next opening wouldn’t be for a month at least, and that was if they were lucky. Even if another party like this was held, there was no guarantee that they could get someone in again.

Onoki was particular about who he invited to his party, and it was part luck and part determination that had secured Kakashi and Anko a spot. It would be damn near impossible to get another invite unless they made one hell of an impression.

He needed to think fast. Shikaku wouldn’t be pleased if they came back empty-handed, even if it wasn’t technically their fault. He’d expect Kakashi to figure out a new plan on the spot. That was his specialty.

Feeling his phone vibrating in his hand, he glanced down to see what new message awaited him. What he had expected to see was something along the lines of Anko telling him that she was going to try another approach. That perhaps she had her eyes on someone else that might have information or at least an idea that would help him formulate a new plan.

Instead, he was greeted with the worst news she could have possibly sent him.

He keeps staring at you. Maybe the solution to our problem is easier than that pretty face of yours is making it seem.

He hated when she flirted with him while trying to convince him to do something he really didn’t want to. Seduction was not his area of expertise, and he had no interest in giving it a shot with no prior preparation or even the barest hint of what to talk about.

He was terrible when it came to talking to people. She knew that. Not that he couldn’t do it, but he needed time to prepare. Knowledge about the person he was talking about.

This wasn’t him picking on Tenzo by smooth-talking his way into a free lunch. If he screwed this up he was going to have to fight his way out of a building full of rival gang members.

Not impossible, but not preferable either.

Seeing another message pop up on the screen, he narrowed his eyes.

Quit having a panic attack and go flirt with the man. If you could convince me to crawl into bed with you, you can do it with him.

Somehow that didn’t feel like the compliment she probably intended it to be. They didn’t have time to discuss it though.

Pocketing his phone, he relaxed against the table and took a moment to examine the room around him. Reminding himself of the number of armed Iwagakure CBD gang members and each of their stations in the room.

If he so happened to lock eyes with the target while doing one last assessment of the place, that was merely a coincidence. One he took full advantage of when he noticed that Anko had not been lying to him. The man was eyeing him, and he wasn’t even trying to hide it at all.

Clearly, Anko wasn’t joking whenever she called him a ‘snack for the eyes’.

“Fine,” pushing himself away from the table he pocketed his hands and headed towards a small group off in the distance. His hope was that the target would see his movements and decide to cut him off, rather than forcing him to make his way over to where he was for what was no doubt going to be the worst flirt session ever.

Hopefully, Anko would have a nice present waiting for him when this was all said and done. There were a few things that he could think of that would make such an unpleasant turn of events a little more bearable, and as he watched his target dismissing himself from his current conversation and heading straight for him he couldn’t help but let his mind wander.

A few enjoyable thoughts about Anko and those delicious lips he loved so much were bound to get him through whatever he was about to endure for the sake of taking Onoki and his little territory stealing gang down a peg.

[heyitsani]

I Keep My Eyes Wide Open All the Time Chapter 2

Word Count: 6507

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Major character death (eventually), Mentions of past rape/non-con (eventually)

Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne/Jon Kent (mentioned)

Summary: With the potion to restore his memories, Damian is given the choice. Remember or remain ignorant.

Notes: We are now delving into Damian’s memories that fall in line with the timeline of the previous story!  There are some scenes that will be direct parallels to the other story, but these are Damian’s memories.  And it’s the experiences that mold him into the man he becomes in this particular lifetime.

This was hardly edited, just warning you.  My brain is fried from having to care for my two sick gremlins.  Which is also why it’s so late.  Next chapter still coming Friday!

Hopefully.

If you have not read the other story, this one won’t really make much sense.  So you can read that here: WYMIM

You can also read it on AO3 here

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Frowning at the cloaks the tailor slipped over his shoulders, Damian wondered why exactly he had to wear all these uncomfortable garments for his uncle’s wedding.  He had been to banquets and fancy parties before, but he had never had to wear all these heavy layers that were stiff and thick. 

“Honestly, Your Highness, they cannot be that unfortunate,” the tailor teased as he adjusted some of the gold edging on the outer cloak.  “Your father made much the same face when he attended his first wedding as the Crowned Prince.  So much of him in you.”  Damian looked at the man through the looking glass and considered him. 

“Stu, these look perfect,” Damian looked up to see his father walking into the room, dressed in his own ceremonial garbs.  “Are they the same design as the ones you made me for my first?”  The king walked over to stand in front of Damian, smiling down at the younger before looking at the tailor.

Stu waved a hand but bowed his head in the expected respectful manner as he continued to work on a piece.  “They are actually your old garments.  Your father brought them to me and said you would like that particular sentimentality.”  Watching his father’s smile turn from friendly to something the five-year-old wasn’t quite sure how to label, Damian frowned.

“He’s not wrong,” his father said softly, looking back to Damian.  “But something tells me that you are enjoying them about as much as I did at your age.”  His father chuckled as he brushed a hand through the raven locks on his head before resting the hand on his shoulder.

“Yes well, he is his father’s son.”  The king laughed but kept his eyes on Damian.  “I am almost finished.  The Queen was quite insistent that I work as quickly as possible.  But these old bones can only move so quickly these days.”  The smile on his father’s face faltered slightly at the mention of his mother but was quickly put back into place.

“She is a particular woman.”

The old tailor simply hummed and continued to work, but Damian kept a close eye on his father.  Though he was only five, he could tell when there were things being unsaid.  Ser Jason had started showing him how to watch people to read more than just what their words told them.  And his father always said much more with his expression and body then he did with his words, he was coming to find.  But that didn’t mean he understood any of it yet.

“Do you understand your role today, son?”  His father turned his full attention back to Damian, and the younger nodded.  His mother had drilled it into her, demanding nothing but perfection in his memory of what he was supposed to do.

Straightening his spine and lifting his chin, he looked up at his father.  “Mother made sure I knew what to do.  She…impressed upon me the importance of my role.”

“Did she?”  His father’s voice sounded odd.  “And what did your mother have to say about the possibility of making a mistake?”

“To not to.”

“Of course she did,” his father said, but Damian just furrowed his brows.  He didn’t understand why his father suddenly looked angry.  Had he done something wrong?  Said something wrong?  The hand that had been resting on his shoulder fell away and his father took a step back, smoothing down the front of his robes while taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly.

“Father?”

His father watched him for a moment before answering, his tone controlled but it didn’t match the look in his eyes.  “Your uncle is glad to have you carry his hand fasting box for him.  He will be happy with your performance no matter what mistakes might be made.  Anyone who tells you differently will have to deal with me.”

“Those sound like fighting words, My King,” an amused voice sounded from the door and Damian’s frown turned to a smile at the sight of Ser Jason leaning against the wall, arms crossed over the rich red of his cloaks.  “Should you be teaching a five-year-old such things?”

“Oh please,” Stu sounded, drawing Damian’s gaze.  “I have been around long enough to know he is this way because of you.”  Ser Jason let out a laugh and Damian could hear his father chuckling, but Damian’s attention was on the man at his feet.  “Now, I believe I am done.  Does it have your approval, Your Majesty?”

“Impeccable as always.  But Stu honestly, when will you just call me Richard?  You’re practically family.”  The older man stood and brushed himself off before looking over at the king.  “Don’t give me that look.  You have never stood upon propriety before.  Least of all with me.”

“Yes well, you have always been your own force.  Perhaps His Highness will feel differently.”

“You mean perhaps he’s being influenced differently than his father.”

“Jason.” 

“Sorry, My King.”  Damian looked between the three men and tried to figure out what exactly they were talking about, but none of it made any sense to him.  He felt like these kinds of conversations happened a lot around him.  About him.  “I did come here with a purpose.  His former Majesty is gathering everyone for the ceremony and requested I collect the two of you.  Appears you finished just in the nick of time, Stu.”

The older man chuckled as he went about packing his tools away.  Damian looked at his father and waited for his approval before he moved.  “You can step down, my son.  Stu, you have done a marvelous job as always.  You will be at the ceremony and banquet, yes?”

“I will.  I will never miss an opportunity to see my hard work being admired.”

“Cheeky old man,” Ser Jason joked as he moved further into the room and over to the king.  Damian noticed Stu didn’t bat an eye at the kiss the two men shared as he gathered his things.  But he also knew his father and Ser Jason only ever did this around certain people.  Never anyone who wasn’t close to the family.  And never his mother.  “We should get you both to the carriages.  I am sure Hood is there waiting for me as well.”

“And Mother?”

He didn’t notice the flinch in his father or the tightened grip on Ser Jason’s waist.  “Yes, I am certain your mother is there waiting for us as well.”  His father stepped away from Ser Jason and picked up an object on the table where Stu had been keeping his tools.  He made his way over to where Damian still stood on the stool, holding up the crown that was specifically for the Heir Apparent and Damian scrunched his nose at it.  He hated the crown, but he knew at certain occasions he was required to wear it.  The royal wedding between his uncle and the Brother of the King of Kent was one of those.

“It’s so heavy,” he muttered, standing still as his father placed it upon his head and adjusted it so it sat properly.

“Just wait until you have to wear the one your father has to wear,” Ser Jason teased, holding out the Sovereign’s crown to his father, who rolled his eyes as he bowed his head so the other man could place it on his head.  Damian could only remember a handful of moments when his father wore anything more than a simple crown.  “But if it doesn’t suite the two of you perfectly.”

Damian watched the two men stare at each other for a moment before he carefully got down from the stool and looked up at them.  “Why do you not have a crown, Ser Jason?  All the high-ranking Knights have them.”

“I am not a knight, Little Prince.  I am my own entity and we do not have to subject ourselves to the frivolity of a crown.”  Ser Jason looked down at Damian and held his hand out for the boy to take, which he did immediately.  “Now, let us away before His former Majesty comes looking for you both.”

“Yes, what a shame it would be to stress Father more than he already has been.  You’d think he was still king and having to make sure all the details were in place,” Damian listened to his father speak as they walked out of the room even though it made little sense to him, his hand still gripped in Ser Jason’s.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I may be a king, but he is my son.  And I will not ignore him for my duties.  I will not have him think I care for others more than I care for my own child.”  Damian frowned as he hid just around the corner from where his father was speaking to a high-ranking member of the Council.  He didn’t need to hear the start of the conversation to know that this was about the appearance he had made earlier when the Council had been in session.  He hadn’t known and wouldn’t have barged in if he had, but once he had come in his father had insisted on hearing what he had come in for.

Like he always did, and Damian never gave much thought to.

“What are you doing, Little Prince?”  Damian flinched when a voice sounded behind him.  Turning, he found Ser Jason standing with a knowing smile on his lips and an amused glint in his eyes.  “We should work on your awareness regarding your surroundings.”

Sighing, the seven-year-old turned his back completely to what he had been watching and looked up at the man who was, for all intents and purposes, a second father to him.  “I made a mistake today,” he admitted, looking down at the ground.  Ser Jason said nothing, and Damian peeked up at the man through his lashes.  The frown that was present confused him.

“Did your father say you made a mistake?”  Damian shook his head and looked back down.  “Did he tell you that you did anything wrong?  Treat you as though you had?”

He thought back to the moment he had rushed into the room and how his father had looked at him.  He hadn’t looked thrilled, but he had looked happy at the very least.  He remembered how he had heard muttering coming from the men and women at the table but how his father had ignored them and let Damian climb into his lap and tell him about the jump he had made on his horse earlier.

“No,” Damian admitted, scuffing his boot on the ground.  “But…”  Glancing over his shoulder, he frowned at the corner that hid his father and the Councilmember.

“But nothing, Little Prince,” Ser Jason said, kneeling to get eyelevel with him.  Damian looked at the older man, still feeling ashamed for upsetting the Council and forcing his father to have to speak up.  “Come with me, I’ll tell you a story.”  Ser Jason stood and held his hand out for Damian to take while they walked.

Hesitating just a moment, with one last backward glance, Damian slipped his smaller hand into the much larger one.  He remained silent as they walked away from where his father had been and toward the kitchens.

“When you were born your father was concerned,” Ser Jason started as they got far enough away from his father, so they would not be overheard.  “Your grandmother, Talia, was not the warmest of mothers.  She was strict and enforced many rules on your father and uncle.  She wanted them to be the very best and she thought that meant not treating them as her children, but as her pupils.  Even though Prince Timothy was just a toddler and your father not much older.  Your grandfather, though kinder and more understanding, took his duty as king very seriously when he was crowned after your father was born.”

Having heard stories about his grandmother from his father, what Ser Jason was telling him made sense.  And he knew his grandfather well enough to know how important duty was to him.  But he didn’t understand what this had to do with what had happened today.  Or why his father had been concerned when he had been born.

“He told me he was worried you would not know just how loved you were.  That you might grow up the way he had because your mother was not going to be…very attentive.  He worried he would be like his own father.”  Damian looked up at the man and stopped walking, furrowing his brows at that revelation.  Ser Jason laughed and gave his hand a tug so they could resume walking.  “That face you’re making just supports what I had told him.  There was no way that your father would do anything other than love you openly.”

Damian considered this information as he was led into the kitchens and then lifted onto one of the stools he and Ser Jason always sat on while indulging in a snack.  He missed the way the cook rolled her eyes as Ser Jason gave her his bright smile.  He didn’t see the other kitchen workers chuckling as the head cook went to get them a snack.  All he could focus on was the fact that his father, the one person he had never doubted cared deeply for him, had worried Damian wouldn’t know love.

“Ser Jason?”  Damian looked over at the man as he took his usual seat.  The man raised a dark brow and waited for Damian to continue.  “Did I get Father in trouble today?”  Ser Jason looked startled for a moment before laughing loudly.  Glancing around, Damian noticed the entire kitchen staff stopped to watch the pair fondly for a moment before going back to their tasks.

“Little Prince,” Ser Jason gasped, still chuckling, “your father gets himself in trouble with the Council all the time, and he will always admit when he is wrong.  But on this?  On this he will never admit any faults.  Because loving you?  Being your father first and foremost?  That is not a fault.”  Relaxing a little onto his stool, Damian sighed.  He was glad to hear his father was not in trouble because of him. 

Smiling at the cook who set a plate in front of them, Damian thanked her before turning that smile onto the man next to him.  He wasn’t at all surprised to find that familiar smile on Ser Jason’s face, the one Damian knew was just for him and his father. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He stood ramrod straight at the top of the stairs, next to his mother who almost looked bored as they waited for the caravan of carriages and horses made their way onto the castle grounds to the main gates.  He remained still because it was expected of it, but he really wanted to move.  He wanted to adjust the cape he wore to keep the chill away.  He wanted to shift the crown on his head, the one he hated so much more than the basic one he was allowed for events that were not quite as formal.

But his Uncle Timothy and the Duke of Kent visiting was apparently a formal affair.  And one he knew his father was looking forward to.

So his mother had made it clear that he was expected to behave as a Wayne would and how an Heir Apparent should.  Which meant he remained still and silent, waiting for the carriage in the middle of the entourage to stop and the two men to step out.  He watched his father rush forward to hug his uncle and then exchange a handshake with his husband.

“Damian, come!”  His father called.  Glancing up at his mother, she gave him a stern and expectant look before nodding.  Only then did he make his way down the steps to greet the visitors.

“Nephew,” his uncle greeted reaching out for a hug and though he knew he would hear about it from his mother later, Damian sunk into the affection.  “You have grown so much!  You will be towering over me and your father in no time.”  Damian smiled up at the man and nodded.  “You remember Kon.”  The other man looked away from the king and gave Damian a smile, which the younger returned easily.  “Surely you also remember King Clark’s son, Jon?”  The young man stood next to Duke Kon, smiling over at Damian as well.

“I do.  Hello, Your Highness,” Damian greeted formally.  The other prince gave a small wave but remained where he stood.  “We have missed you, Uncle.  Father was so pleased to get your letter that you and the Duke would be coming as the representatives for the Kingdom of Metropolis for the Treaty of Justice renewal.”

The older man laughed and settled a hand on Damian’s shoulder.  “So formal for an eight-year-old.  Are you certain you didn’t age ten years since I’ve been gone?”  Ducking his head, Damian felt a blush rise on his cheeks.

“Ah that would be his mother’s doing,” he heard his father comment.  He lifted his head to look at his father but caught the eye of Prince Jon instead.  He had an almost curious look on his face.  “Come, let us go inside and allow the staff to help your men and women unpack and get settled.  Alfred had arranged everything according to the list you sent with your letter.  Has anything changed, Brother?”

“No, all should still be accurate.  Will Father be joining us?”  Damian watched the three older men walk ahead while he waited for Prince Jon to fall into step with him.

“Was it a hard journey, Your Highness?” 

“Please call me Jon,” the boy said with his bright smile.  It made Damian respond with a smile of his own, almost against his will.  But he quickly glanced over where his mother had been standing earlier and thankfully found the spot empty.  If she had gone back inside, then that meant he was free to do as he pleased until dinner.

“You may call me Damian,” he returned the sentiment.  The other prince seemed to brighten even more at the words and it reminded Damian so much of his own father’s disposition.  “Do you need to rest before dinner?  Or perhaps require anything I can get?”

Jon shook his head and looked around the area as they reached the top of the stairs.  “Is the Dragon Slayer around?  Last time we came he promised to show me some of his souvenirs from his adventures.  I would very much like to see that.”

“I believe Ser Jason is training with the knights,” Damian said, glancing toward the training grounds.  He wasn’t usually supposed to interrupt the training regimes, but he supposed Jason wouldn’t be too upset this once.  “Let us go this way.  It is quicker to go around instead of traveling through the castle,” he gestured, leading Jon back down the steps.

The pair walked for a few moments in silence before Jon spoke up.  “How exciting to have a Dragon Slayer in your kingdom!  I have read every tome in our library back home about their history and great victories.  And their heartbreaking defeats.  Ser Todd was so interesting when we were here for the wedding.”  Damian watched Jon talk out of the corner of his eye as he led the other boy toward the training grounds, enraptured with his excitement.  It was almost contagious.

It would have been contagious if he hadn’t had to worry about his mother’s ever watchful eye.

“Ser Jason is a noble man.  The strongest of his line,” Damian agreed as they rounded one of the walls into shortcut that would take them out to the training field.  Jon practically bounced as they walked and Damian felt himself smiling at his antics.  “He promised me a scale one day.  I hope on his next venture he will be successful in retrieving one for me.”

“How brave!  I read the dragons burst into flames when they have been slain.”

Damian nodded.  “They do.  That is why he has not gotten one for me yet.  It is a difficult task and one must be especially quick.  But Ser Jason said he is sure he should be able to get one.”  Jon’s eyes widened and Damian felt his chest swell with pride for knowing Ser Jason well enough to impress him.  “He is my father’s closest confidant, and he tells me of his travels frequently.  I bet he would be happy to tell you of some of them,” Damian offered just as they stepped out onto the edge of the training fields.

With a glance around at the men staggered throughout the fields, working through drills, Damian caught sight of the familiar face.  With a tilt of his head, he gestured for Jon to follow him through the ranks toward Ser Jason.

“Little Prince,” he was greeted as soon as Ser Jason noticed him.  His smile was familiar but shifted to something more formal when his eyes shifted to Jon.  “Prince Jon, how good to see you again.”  He gave the prince a customary bow before glancing between the pair.  “To what do I owe this interruption?”  And though Damian could see the contrite look on Jon’s face, he simply smiled at the man he considered a second father.

“Jon asked after you,” he offered as an explanation.  The Slayer nodded and looked over at the visiting prince.

“I promised you a chance to view some of my trophies,” Ser Jason confirmed, and Jon lit up, bouncing in excitement.  “I do need to finish training, but I promise I will escort you over to the display rooms as soon as we break.”  The older man smiled over at Damian and without saying anything, Damian knew what was being asked of him. 

Turning to Jon, who had not lost the excitement on his face, Damian pointed to a space behind him.  “Let us wait over there, Jon,” he instructed.  “Are you hungry or thirsty?  My grandfather’s manservant always makes sure to provide the soldiers and their spectators with refreshments.”  The other boy bounced over to where Damian directed him and glanced over the options, picking a few small bites before he went back to watching the men and women on the grounds. 

Passing the time chatting about how things had been in the years since they had last seen each other, Damian allowed Jon to ramble on about the state of his country and how they have faired so much better since Damian’s uncle had come to live in their kingdom.  He listened while Jon talked about the lessons his father had started introducing him to, things that would help him in running the kingdom one day and Damian confirmed his own father had been doing much the same.

“Father loves to speak of our friendship,” Jon told him as the two watched the soldiers finish for the day and begin clearing from the field.  “We have many other kingdoms come for treaties or international relations, but he always remains firm that his favorite is with Gotham.  I hope we can continue that once we are crowned.”

“Of course we can,” Damian nodded, serious.  “Our kingdoms have been allies far too long to change that when we rule.”  Damian glanced over at Jon and found the prince watching him closely.  “What is it?”

“I did not mean politically.  Father holds his friendship with your grandfather and father very highly.  I would like to do the same.”

Damian opened his mouth to reply but found he didn’t quite know what to say.  Friendship wasn’t something he had ever really experienced, his mother keeping him separate from anyone his own age outside of visiting royalty.  He knew there were a few kids living in the castle, offspring of servants, but he had never been allowed to interact.  He wasn’t sure he knew how to be a friend.  But he wanted to try.

“I would like that.”  Jon’s smile told him he had said the right thing.  All Damian could do was smile back.

“Now,” Ser Jason interrupted as he walked over, wrapping an arm around each boy.  “I do believe I have some boasting to do.  Shall we?”  He glanced between the two and Damian allowed Jon to answer.

“Yes please!”  The older man chuckled and guided the pair toward the castle entrance that would lead to the hall where the all of the trophies the Dragon Slayers collected were displayed.  “Damian told me you are to try and get him a scale!  How frighteningly fast you must be for…”  Damian let Jon’s chatter fade to background noise as he spotted his mother standing in one of the upper windows, watching the trio with narrowed eyes and an expression he couldn’t quite place.

Whatever it was, it made him want to shrink back and hide from it.  But as they got closer to being almost directly under her, he noticed it wasn’t the three of them she was watching, but Ser Jason alone.

And though he couldn’t place the exact emotion, his instincts screamed danger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hurrying down the hall, Damian wove in and out of the gathered staff members that had lined up to say goodbye to his uncle, the Duke, and Prince. 

He was late.

His mother had insisted he go back and change into more formal cloaks for the send off and it had thrown off everything.  Especially since his manservant had already left and he had had to figure it out all on his own.  He had gained fresh respect for the man who had been helping him for years now.

“Your Highness!”  A familiar voice called, causing Damian to stop and spin.  “What happened to the cloaks you were already wearing?!  You are all a mess.”  His manservant rushed up to him and immediately started straightening his layers. 

“Mother insisted,” was all he could say in response.  The man tutted and continued to fix him.  Finally, after straightening his crown, the man stepped back and nodded. 

“Now rush along, My Prince.  The family is already waiting.”  Nodding and breathing a quick thank you, Damian continued hurrying along the hallway.  He emerged from the castle to find his mother at the top of the steps, standing regally as always, but the rest of the family down near the waiting carriages. 

Taking a deep breath, Damian slowed his gait and made his way to his mother, saying nothing at her silent assessment before heading down the stairs.

“There you are, Son!”  His father smiled brightly when he caught sight of Damian, waving him over.  “We were just wondering what was keeping you.”  Damian smiled tentatively, glancing back at his mother’s cool gaze before looking back at his father.  He didn’t miss the narrowing of his father’s eyes at the motion of looking at his mother, but it was gone before he could question it.

“I had a mishap with my cloaks,” was all he offered.  Taking the blame was the safest bet.  “But I am glad to not miss the sendoff.  Uncle,” he stepped forward and accepted a hug from his uncle and then the Duke, who had had come to also think of as an uncle over the last few weeks.

His uncle wrapped an arm around his shoulders after the Duke released him and looked down on him.  “We will arrange to have you come stay with us soon, yes?”  Damian nodded, smiling brightly.  “I will write you father about it soon.  You must come in the Spring before the heat settles.  It is the best season out there and there will be much to show you.”

“I look forward to it, Uncle.”

“Me too!”  Prince Jon chimed in as he rushed over from where he had been chatting with Ser Jason by the horses pulling the carriage.  “We will have the best time!”  Damian smiled at the other boy and nodded.  And even though he didn’t want his mother to know he had formed such a good bond with the other prince, he easily accepted the hug from the older boy.  “Don’t forget to write.  We will exchange letters, yes?”

Pulling back, Damian’s smile remained.  “Yes.”  Jon bounced before glancing back at the carriage.

“Well, we must be off,” Uncle Timothy spoke up, moving over to his father’s side.  “Brother, thank you for welcoming me home.  I have missed our time together.  You must come with Damian to visit.”

His father chuckled and wrapped his uncle in a warm hug that Damian knew all too well.  “I shall see if I can get Father to run the country again so that I might come visit.”  Damian watched the pair laugh before parting.  His father gave the Duke a hug before moving to stand with Damian.  “Prince Jon, please send my well wishes to your father and mother.  It was wonderful to have you join us.”

The boy smiled brightly and accepted the offered hug before he waved and bounded toward the carriages, slipping in behind his uncles.  Damian waved with his father when the horses began moving forward as Ser Jason backed away and gave wave of his own.

“Well, My King,” the older man sighed as he stopped next to the king.  When he didn’t say anything more, Damian glanced over at the slayer and noticed the two men looking at each other.  The look on both their faces was familiar, but painful.  Something he couldn’t quite pinpoint the meaning of.  But it was one he had seen plenty of times over the past eight years.

“Yes, My Slayer.”  The two nodded at each other before glancing down at Damian, confusing him further.  “Come, Son.  Let us to be office and I shall show you what happens now that the assembly has away, and we have the treaties to send out.”

Nodding his head, Damian turned and walked with his father, Ser Jason following closely behind them.  He didn’t look to see if his mother was still standing at the top of the stairs because he knew she wouldn’t be.  Not once the sake of appearances was over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The room was quiet outside of the scratch of his quill on parchment and the rustling of papers as his mother read through letters sent from her homeland.  He could tell just by the sound of the papers that whatever was written on their surface was not what she had wanted to read.  So rarely did his mother bother to show much in the way of emotion around him, so when she slipped up and let some shine through it always intrigued him.

Glancing at the woman out of the corner of his eye, Damian took in her rigid posture as she got up and paced the room while continuing to read whatever had been written to her.

“Mother?”  He called out when he noticed her crumple up one of the pages in her hand.  His mother stopped walking and turned to look at him, looking like she had forgotten Damian had been in the room with her all this time.  “Is everything okay?”  The woman might not ever really show she cared about him outside of his role in the family, but she was still his mother.

Some part of her had to care, right?

“Have you finished your work for the day?” 

“No, Mother,” he answered truthfully, glancing down at the page in front of him.  Yes, he was nearly done, but it wouldn’t do to lie to her.  “I have two more problems to solve before I am finished.”

“Then you need not concern yourself with me, do you?”  Instead of speaking, Damian simply shook his head and looked back down to his work.  He watched her resume her pacing out of the corner of his eye as he went back to working on the problems, trying not to give himself away.  But this work he could do in his sleep and her reactions were just too curious to not want to know what news she had received. 

A heavy-handed knock came to the door and drew both of their attention.  “His Majesty King Richard,” the guard at the door of the study announced as he pushed open the doors and stepped aside.  Sitting straighter, Damian smiled as his father swept into the room with a smile of his own. 

“Damian, there you are,” his father spoke as he made his way over to the table he had his work spread out on.  “The Council meeting is in a short while and you are to be in attendance today.  Have you finished your work for the day?”  The older man picked up a parchment and glanced over the figures that were worked out on it.  “These are very good.” 

“I am finishing my last right now, Father,” Damian told him, and he watched his father nod before picking up another stack of parchments to look over.

He tried not to react when his mother made her way over and kept his eyes on the final problem.  “I was not made aware he was to be in Council today.  I have his afternoon planned already.”  The tone of her voice made Damian cringe because he knew his father was one of the very few people who she was allowed to speak to however she pleased.  Ser Jason had explained the situation to him a few years ago, but he only really came to understand recently.

“Then you shall have to cancel whatever it is you have prepared.”  His father’s voice gave no room for argument.  At least that would have been true if he had been speaking to anyone other than his mother.

“I will do no such thing!  I am his mother and therefore oversee his schooling.”

Looking up, Damian saw steel in his father’s eyes, and it made him want to cringe.  It was rare to see King Richard mad about anything.  Even when things were really bad, Damian could only count on one hand the number of times he had seen his father truly mad.  Most of those times were directed at someone who had done wrong to another person.

“And I am his father and king, and I will have him join me in Council today.  That is final.  Come, Damian.”  His father set down the parchments he was holding and gestured for Damian to stand.  And though his mother turned angry, accusing eyes on him, Damian did as his father asked.  He stood and smoothed out his clothing before gathering his work and cleaning the space.  “We can deposit these things in your rooms on our way to the meeting.”

“Yes, Father,” he agreed, glancing between his parents who were back to staring at each other with fire in their eyes. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You cannot just storm in whenever it pleases you and demand your way!”  Damian froze in mid-reach of the door to his father’s study, hearing his mother’s angry voice.  “He is my son too!  You have already poisoned him against me and stolen his love from me, giving it to that….to that man!  I will not have you steal his very presence from me too!”

“You are being dramatic, Catalina.  I have stolen nothing.  Your lack of warmth and care has caused him to seek that comfort elsewhere.”  Where his mother sounded angry, his father sounded controlled.  He could practically see them.

If he had to guess, his father was probably seated at his desk and his mother in front of it with her palms resting on the rich oak.  He had known their argument from earlier was far from over, but he hadn’t expected it to be brought back up so quickly.

“Do not presume to tell me how to care for my own child.”

“And do not presume to tell me what I, as his father and king, can and cannot do.  He is my son.  He is the Crowned Prince of Gotham.  His schooling is important, but he is ten years old and has responsibilities he needs to start learning.  I was much younger than him when my own responsibilities began.  And that work you have him doing is a joke.”  There was a pause and Damian heard his mother scoff before the sound of papers being dropped onto the desk sounded.  “He could do these in his sleep.  He is brilliant and you are having him do work below him.  If you cannot be trusted to challenge him then I will have to find someone to take your place.”

Damian’s eyes widened at the threat because he was no fool.  If his mother didn’t handle his schooling, then she had no tether to this family.  She had no role and no purpose to even be there.

“You would threaten my place when you owe me everything?”

“I do not owe you a single thing, Catalina.  In fact, it is you who owes me.  It is you who was headed for the Church of Ra’s.”  Damian shuttered at the statement, knowing the cruelties of his grandmother’s home country and where maidens were forced into forever worship of King Ra’s when they reached a certain age and were unmarried.  A woman facing that would likely be desperate.  “The sooner you realize that the sooner we can all be much happier.  You are nothing to me.  You have always been nothing to me.  Just a contract.  You knew that long before you came to Gotham.  Do not fool yourself into thinking you will ever be anything more.”

The sound of flesh hitting flesh caused him to step back and consider storming into the room.  He knew there was no way his father had hit his mother and he did not like the emotion the thought of his mother hitting his father evoked in him.

“Damian?”  Looking over to see his grandfather standing just down the hallways, he straightened his spine and clenched his fists.  “Is everything all right?” 

With one last glance at the closed door of his father’s study, Damian made his way over to his grandfather.  “I was going to speak with Father regarding the invitation to visit Uncle Timothy but it seems he is in a conversation with Mother.”  His grandfather regarded him closely, looking toward the room that held his parents before resting his blue gaze back on Damian.  “I suppose I can ask him at supper.”

“Yes, I suppose that would be a fine time,” the older man agreed, placing a hand on Damian’s shoulder and guiding him down the hall.  “Your father was telling me of your schooling the other day.  He was quite impressed with how far you have advanced and I think it might be time…”  Damian half listened to his grandfather as they walked, casting one last glance over his shoulder toward his father’s study before they rounded a corner.

[ambitionsource]

AMBITION Season 2 ♫ “We’ll Be the Stars” [ 2.11 ]

CREATED BY Esther (rapunzles) & Maggie (quincywillows) || S2 Tag || Official Page

A NIGHT TO REMEMBER – Tensions are set aside in honor of a promenade, and some students opt for a change of pace. A clever ruse forces Eric and Jack to team up. Unfortunate circumstances make for odd couples, but stars always know where they’re supposed to go in the end.

66 Minutes (18K words) || No content warnings apply.

[ ← Rarely Pure and Never Simple ] [ S2 Synopsis ] [ Final Run → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

INT. AAA - DAY

A series of shots guide us into the episode, displaying the school in the midst of preparing for promenade. Banners are hung, student council members work the ticket booth. The halls are decorated according to the theme, “We’ll Be the Stars,” small stars seemingly glittering on every visible surface. A promposal wraps up in the hall outside the auditorium, senior students applauding and cheering as the girl says yes and the other girl wraps her in a tight hug.

Yes, it’s prom time at Adams Academy for the Arts. Let the insanity commence!

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

FARKLE MINKUS opens his locker. We’re looking at him from the inside, giving us a look at it as he rearranges some things. Its decor has been updated after a long detour of being trapped in sophomore year -- there are fewer photos, but they are newer and more representative of the way things actually are now. A couple photos of him and Maya are the focal point, but there’s a few scattered notable mentions. A photograph of the full Junior A Class; a picture of his whole family; a rare capture of him and Isadora.

From outside the confines of the locker, we hear RILEY MATTHEWS speak.

Riley: And you’re sure you can handle it? I’m sure if you wanted, we could work out something else --

Perspective shifts back to its usual framing, showing the two of them hanging by his locker. Farkle stems her worrying from the start, holding up a hand.

Farkle: I’m going to stop you right there, Riley. Do you know what you’re doing to me right now?

Riley: … demonstrating concern as a good friend?

Farkle: You’re neuro-splaining me. [ off Riley’s expression ] I get it, you’re concerned about my health. Mentally, above all else.

Riley makes a face, obviously not sold on the concept of “neuro-splaining.” As if she hasn’t had her own mental health experiences… but she figures it’s not worth the argument.

Farkle: But trust me, as much as I appreciate it, I will be fine. [ a beat ] I don’t want to miss out on anything else essential to my junior year experience, and prom is one of those things. Not to mention, I certainly won’t be able to graciously receive my prom king crown if I’m not there to accept it.

It’s clear he’s joking, although with his dry delivery… either way, he’s made up his mind. Farkle will be in attendance at the upcoming event, come hell or high water.

Farkle: Besides, it’s bold of you to assume I could avoid it anyway.

Riley: How come?

Farkle: Prom isn’t just an event around here. [ pointedly ] It’s a contagion.

As he closes his locker --

INT. AAA - CLASSROOM - DAY

For how alight with excitement the halls seem to be, classes are still in session and there’s still work to be done. The energy is tamped down in Cory’s classroom, where everyone is completing silent reading for the last few minutes of class.

Still, Farkle was right, and the junior class has been bitten by the prom bug. Everyone is jittery as they sit at their desks, unable to keep still. Under the desk, ZAY BABINEAUX taps his foot to an unheard rhythm. MAYA HART flips her pencil in her fingers, adding to the rhythm against her desk.

CHARLIE GARDNER glances up at the clock, impatiently watching the seconds go by. Tick, tick, tick… as the percussions slowly evolve into an actual beat...

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “You Should Be Dancing” as performed by Glee Cast || Performed by AAA Juniors

The bell rings about 7 seconds in, releasing the class from their academic torture. CORY MATTHEWS cringes as the energy in the room skyrockets, papers flying as the energetic juniors are free to succumb back into the groove.

Zay kicks off the vocals, the number staying in the classroom for the first verse as he volleys lyrics back and forth with Maya. As they escape into the halls…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Charlie takes over, leading the charge into the rest of the school. The three of them are the front of the pack, but they pick up other junior students as they go. The whole atmosphere of the halls has changed, feeling groovier in the midst of the twinkling stars and amped up music.

Around a minute and a half in, they pass by Riley and Farkle and pull them into the dance. The movements become less chaotic and more choreographed at that point, truly a spectacle only AAA could pull off.

As they pass by the techies hanging out on the stairs outside the auditorium, it seems even they aren’t immune to the allure of prom fever. They jump up and join in the parade, JEFF MONROE in particular worth spotlighting due to his breakdancing ability.

And away they go again…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

By the time they make it into the auditorium and onto the stage, the vibe of their collective imagination has completely succumbed to fantasy. The stage is basically a disco floor as they dance their way up there, the only thing still remaining commonplace their outfits.

And by this point, they’ve paired off. Farkle and Zay stay front and center -- a fun little duo to witness tolerating each other again, if nothing else -- with Maya and ISADORA DE LA CRUZ to their left and Charlie and YINDRA AMINO to their right. In the back, ASHER GARCIA and DYLAN ORLANDO are grooving together, while Riley Matthews gets LUCAS JAMES FRIAR to at least do something.

As they finish out the jam, Farkle and Zay theatrically toss their heads back and raise a hand to the sky. Declarative, with a flourish, what a dynamite finish. One thing is essentially guaranteed on this prom week, that’s for sure.

There will be no shortage of drama.

Cue title sequence.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Zay is at his locker, swapping out his dance duffle for his classwork. When Maya practically jumps him and surprises him at his locker, he’s not fazed -- he might be the only student at AAA who she doesn’t strike instant fear into in one capacity or another.

Zay: What do you want, mini Britney?

Maya touches her hand to her chest, faux flattered.

Maya: You’re so sweet. I was just thinking that you and I have a real opportunity on our hands this week.

Zay: Must everything be about an “opportunity?”

Maya: Ugh, would you stop being such a damp toilette? Your mood has been totally subbasement the last couple of weeks and it’s really harshing the vibes.

Well, Maya, he did just break up with his boyfriend. But people not knowing about them was kind of sort of the whole problem, so he says nothing as he allows Maya the floor again.

Maya: Chin up, Zayby. It’s promenade. And you and I are going to come out of it as royalty.

Maya makes her grand pitch: they should go to prom together. Not out of any romantic interest -- although, as she admits, Zay is by far the most eligible male in the walls of AAA -- but because the two of them would be a shoo-in for junior prom king and queen if they team up.

And like everything else at Adams, there is an opportunity attached. Every year, the duos crowned as prom king and queen in both grades get to perform at graduation. It’s a time honored tradition, one that Maya believes they should not pass up.

Zay: I don’t really see what the big deal is.

Maya: Oh, Zay. Isaiah! Wake up! Snap out of whatever quarter-life crisis funk you’ve succumbed yourself into and smell the potential right in front of you! [ matter-of-factly ] You know that there are always college representatives at Triple A graduation. Of course, it’s to honor the students they’ll be bringing into their ranks, and to hopefully snag some quality time with a celebrity family member or two -- I mean, think how many people are going to be swarming our graduation next year when Valerie comes to support Isadora --

Zay, flatly: Yeah, I’m sure she’s so excited about that.

Maya: But it’s also to scout the next crop of graduates. That’s us. It’s almost cosmic that every junior prom king and queen end up going to amazing schools for the arts -- there was even that junior prom queen in ‘96 who got a straight up recording contract.

Zay: How the hell do you know this stuff?

Maya: Because I do my research, Zay. And I know you do, too. Which is why once you’ve shaken off the ennui and have your head back on straight -- or, bi, whatever -- you’ll realize we have prime real estate in front of us. And it’s ours to take… if we step up to the plate. [ backing away ] You know where to find me.

Well, that’s certainly a proposition. Maya floats away as Zay contemplates it, slinging his bag over his shoulder. It’s a good point, he can’t argue with that, and yet…

He glances to the photo of him and Charlie, still taped up in his locker innocuously amongst the rest. In some ways, it seems, it’s just hard to let go of the way you hoped things would be.

Zay closes his locker, heading on his way to rehearsal.

Dylan, pre-lap: We’ll boycott.

INT. AAA - TECHNICIAN’S BOOTH - DAY

Dylan and Asher are following Lucas into the booth, obviously in a heated discussion. Dylan continues to make bold declarations.

Dylan: We’ll stage a full-on protest. You know, when I was in middle school, I was renowned for my poster-making skills in environmental club. They usually lasted like, nine days longer than usual before people tore them down. And Cory is always saying how loud and annoying I am -- that has to be helpful for a protest, yeah?

Asher: He said that to you?

Lucas: Guys --

Dylan: Or even better --

Asher: I swear, I’m going to report him. Like, sorry Riley --

Dylan: Let’s stage a riot. That’ll really show ‘em! They think they can bar Lucas James Friar from prom? Not when we’re there to literally blow the roof off this place. I bet we can get Isadora to sing “Bad Reputation” -- I think we’d need music to be taken seriously here, so --

Lucas: Hey. Hello. Earth to Asher and Dylan. [ clapping ] Let’s cool it, alright?

Lucas waves off their concerns about his ban from prom. He doesn’t want them wasting energy on him when it hardly matters. All things considered, being barred from stuff like this for the rest of the year seems like the best he could’ve asked for given all the bullshit he’s done this year. He slouches into his rolling chair, shrugging.

Lucas: I mean, it’s not like I was really psyched to go anyway. I think I’m more lucky I didn’t get expelled.

Dylan, under his breath: Would’ve boycotted that too.

Lucas: You guys have been looking forward to this for the last three years. It would be stupid for you to blow it just for me. Especially when we consider everything else you’ve already sacrificed for me. Like your sanity. And your clean legal record.

Dylan: I wasn’t mad.

Lucas, bluntly: You should have been. Asher was, but then, he’s always been the smartest out of the three of us.

A beat of quiet as that truth lingers between them. Lucas reiterates the point -- that he doesn’t want them to give up something they care about just because of him. They do enough of that already. Asher and Dylan exchange a look.

Dylan, softer: … well, we love you, man.

Lucas: I know. [ looking at them, then slowly ] And I love you guys, too.

Well, there’s a breakthrough! Dylan beams, looking to Asher in excitement. Asher is smiling too, although a bit more bashful. Lucas elects to move past the vulnerability quickly -- he can give it, but only so much at a time.

Lucas: Which is why I’m not letting you do this. You’re going to prom, and you’ll have a great time without me. Besides, someone has to give whatever posh performers are gunning for prom court a run for their money.

True enough. In fact...

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

That’s exactly what the rest of the techies are discussing as they start doing end of year inventory. It’s a long process, so they have to start early. Rather, they’re complaining as Jeff and DAVE WILLIAMS pick their way through the furniture and wood supplies under the prop loft. NATE MARTINEZ is supposed to be taking notes, but he’s not doing a great job.

JADE BEAMON is seated on a stack of wood pieces, nodding along as she feverishly works on the finishing touches to a wardrobe piece. It doesn’t look like a costume for any sort of production, however…

Nate: It’s rigged, anyway. Every year the most popular performers win so it’s not like the institution means anything.

Jeff: Does prom court mean anything… anywhere? Ever?

Dave: My parents were prom queen and king when they were seniors. They got a free dinner at Waffle House.

Jade: [ tearing a thread with her teeth ] Sounds like a better prize than performing at graduation.

Inspired by their complaints, Nate lights up with an idea. He claims that they should start a new tradition to go with their holiday party, and should throw a techie pre-prom bash. That way they can celebrate their year together and have real fun before they have to go deal with the performers all night.

Jade: You know, I think that’s the first idea of yours I’ve liked in months.

Nate bows, then enthusiastically gives Dave a high-five.

Their tomfoolery is interrupted by Isadora entering, all of them growing uncertainly quiet. She hesitates but then marches onward anyway, greeting them with the best attitude she can muster. She just came by to drop off some paperwork for them -- she already went ahead and inventoried the wood and set building supplies. This is good, because Nate definitely wasn’t doing it.

Jeff accepts her record, looking it over.

Dave: When did you do that?

Isadora: Oh, I just skipped Matthews’ class. [ offhandedly ] I could ace that class with my eyes closed, so. And probably brain damage.

It’s a nice gesture, and they’re not going to refuse it. Jeff awkwardly thanks her, silence settling over them once again. Isadora clears her throat, clasping her hands together. She expresses that she knows she messed up with them, and she is going to put in the effort to get back in their good graces.

She spins and escorts herself out without waiting for a response, leaving the four of them to contemplate her promise. Interesting development…

Dave: So… we don’t have to count the wood?

INT. AAA - CAFETERIA - DAY

Charlie is having lunch with HALEY FISHER and CLARISSA CRUZ, although he doesn’t seem nearly as enthused about prom as they are. On the other side of the cafeteria, applause erupts again as another promposal between seniors gains public attention. So happy, so romantic!

Clarissa: I swear, nowhere in this school is safe right now.

Haley nudges Clarissa, claiming that she should be less cynical. It takes a lot of bravery to ask someone to prom in front of everyone else.

Clarissa: Yes, well, then they could just have a conversation about it. Or make a big deal about it, but like, between the two of you.

Haley: I think it’s romantic.

Clarissa: You think everything is romantic. You’re the most hopeless romantic I’ve ever met.

Haley: Charlie is too -- you agree with me, don’t you, Charlie?

In all honesty, Charlie was not listening. He blinks himself out of his daze, blankly agreeing with whatever Haley said. Clarissa rolls her eyes.

Haley goes to explain how much courage it takes to do such a public proposal. It demonstrates what you’re willing to go through for the other person, how much you like them. Charlie admits that it’s not exactly an act of bravery to ask someone who you know will say yes -- especially when there’s no stakes involved for either of you.

Haley: Well, there’s always stakes. You know, even if you think you know someone, they could always say no. And there’s a lot at stake with a rejection… you know, especially if it’s… [ looking at Charlie intently ] between good friends…

Whatever hint Haley is trying to lay down, it’s going right over Charlie’s head. He shrugs, claiming he might not even go to prom. He’s just... not feeling it this year. Haley is mortified, Clarissa looking between the two of them apprehensively. This seems like a recipe for disaster.

Meanwhile, the techies are enjoying lunch at their usual indoor table when NIGEL CHEY approaches. He greets them before turning his focus to Jade.

Nigel: … hey, Jade.

Jade, shy: … um, hi.

Nigel: I, uh… I just had a quick question. I was wondering if, uh --

All of the techie eyes are on him, making this whole situation a lot more intense. Dylan is watching with wide eyes, wondering if what he thinks is going to happen is about to happen. Jade might be holding her breath. Nigel pushes up his sleeves nervously, clearing his throat.

Jade: … yes?

Nigel: I was just… [ quickly ] I had a question about the costume you made for that number last week. It’s actually… it’s nothing, I’ll just ask you about it in class. Sorry, ha ha. Didn’t mean to interrupt.

Jade: … oh. Okay.

Clearly not what he actually intended to ask. Nigel backs off awkwardly, making a quick escape. Jade tries to hide her disappointment. Asher and Dylan exchange a look across the table, shaking their heads. Pathetic!

All of the missed prom-portunities are forgotten, however, as soon as Maya and Zay arrive to kick off their pronouncement of going together. Evidently Zay agreed, because here they go…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Greedy” as performed by Ariana Grande || Performed by Maya Hart & Zay Babineaux

It’s been a while since we’ve endured a good old disruption in the cafeteria during lunch hour, and this time Lucas is less likely to pull the fire alarm than ever. So Maya and Zay take full advantage of it, bringing up the energy with their talent and an undeniable bop.

They make a point of pulling other people into it at their tables, and of course, Maya is going to climb up onto the tables in her heeled boots. It’s not quite the same full-blown jam session as “Looking At Me” from earlier in the season, but people seem to be into it and in the general prom mood. Spirits are high!

Well, mostly. There is one pointed shot of Charlie forcing a smile as everyone else grooves along, likely wishing he could be anywhere else.

It’s not so much a promposal as it is… a spectacle, but boy, do they know how to put on a show… once they wrap, Maya makes the official statement that they’re campaigning for prom royalty, and if people have any taste, they sure know who to vote for come prom night.

Given how naturally glamorous the two of them are, up high on the table top and looking fresh as ever, it’s hard to argue with that!

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

Riley is hanging up her dress for prom, a classic and simple lavender floor-length number. She’s fretting over it as she vents to Maya, expressing that she’s still debating the whole upstate move thing Topanga has saddled her with.

Maya: Well, do you want to move?

Riley: I… it’s not that simple.

Maya: It should be. Either you want to go, or you don’t.

Riley: Yes, but… I mean… there’s lots to think about.

Maya: She said it was your choice.

Riley: Yeah, well, my mom says a lot of things she doesn’t mean, so…

Maya: Have you talked to Cory about it? He might have some insight. Or like, Eric?

Riley chews her lip, avoiding the question. Maya straightens up, asking if anybody knows about this potential move other than the two of them. Riley has plenty of excuses ready as to why she hasn’t mentioned it to anyone else, but Maya isn’t interested in hearing them. She claims she at least, at least, needs to tell Cory. He deserves to know, lest another life-changing thing get sprung on him with no warning.

Maya: Believe me, as the girl with no parents because of sudden life-altering moves, you owe him that decency.

Youch. Well, that’s tough to debate. Riley absorbs it, focusing back on her dress and smoothing it out nervously.

INT. GARDNER HOME - ROSIE’S ROOM - NIGHT

ROSIE GARDNER is chilling on her bed with her laptop, listening to pop music and humming to herself. Charlie comes and knocks on her door, pointedly until she takes out her earbuds.

Rosie: Ugh, yes? Can I help you?

Charlie: You’re so nice. How about, hey, Charlie? How was your day?

Rosie: I’m fourteen, I have the right to be obnoxious.

Charlie: I wouldn’t say it’s a right so much as an active choice.

Rosie groans, asking him what he even came in here for in the first place. He asks if she has anything going on this weekend -- perhaps they could go do something together. It’s been a minute since they did some brother-sister bonding.

Rosie: I dunno. I guess we could go see that new Chris Evans movie. I think it’s coming out next weekend, and I’m probably free Saturday --

Charlie: … well, I was thinking more this weekend. Specifically. Like not next weekend. This weekend.

Rosie: I know what this weekend means, weirdo. [ looking up movies ] Why are you so set on that? Isn’t it prom this weekend?

Charlie: … well, you know, it’s not a big deal. I was thinking I probably wouldn’t even go anyway, so.

Rosie, offended: Charlie! Ew, no, you can’t not go to prom. Don’t be lame, you’re embarrassing me.

Charlie, scoffing: This has nothing to do with you! You don’t even know anybody I go to school with.

Rosie: Yes, but by Gardner law, I’m associated. Just go with your friends! It does not have to be that deep.

Okay… fair point. Charlie questions if her blatant disgust means they’re not going to the movies, and she claims next week… after he doesn’t embarrass their family name by going to prom like everyone else. So much for finding a clever way out.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Speaking of clever escapes, JACK HUNTER is still struggling to find a way out of the Bradford debacle. So much to the point that he’s now elected to share the issue with Lucas, sitting opposite him with ERIC MATTHEWS as they get him up to speed.

It’s obviously not the kind of thing you want to hear. Lucas is hiding his head in his hands, cursing to himself before turning back to Jack.

Lucas: How long have you known about this?

Jack: … a couple months --

Lucas: Months?

Eric tries to keep stress levels at a manageable level, taking over for Jack in explaining exactly what the suit entails and what the Bradfords are hoping to gain from it. Essentially, they’re hoping that publicly printing Jack’s “questionable” enrollment processes will force his hand. Either he’ll cave and let her enroll regardless, or public dissent will push him to oust Lucas, making room for her in his vacant spot.

Jack, reassuringly: Which will not happen.

But for it to gain any traction, it needs to smell somewhat of a scandal (even if it isn’t) -- which is why they’ve targeted Lucas as their student to blame. They’ve obviously done their research. And between Lucas’s unique situation for enrollment, his lack of participation in the more showcased elements of the school, and his behavioral record…

Lucas, exasperated: I’m guessing stealing a car didn’t help!

Jack frowns. It’s clear he didn’t want to get Lucas involved if he could help it, and seeing this stressed reaction from him is exactly why. But Eric placates them both, reminding them that the fight isn’t over until it’s over. They will be able to brainstorm a way to fix this -- it’s just going to take a concerted effort.

Eric: We will be able to make this work. But it’s going to take a team effort, and total cooperation. You have to trust us, Lucas, and you have to be willing to cooperate. Can you do that? Can you work with us?

What a question, and posed to the notorious school troublemaker at that. But Lucas doesn’t want to leave AAA -- let alone be forced out. He sighs, tilting his head back and swallowing his pride before nodding.

Lucas: Okay. Yeah. [ serious ] Just tell me what to do.

He looks to Jack, meeting his eyes. Ready to do whatever it takes.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Charlie is at his locker, relaying the rejection by his own sister to Riley. She’s leaned back against the lockers, listening sympathetically as he points out another crappy addition to what has been a crappy last couple of weeks.

Along those lines, Riley questions if Charlie still thinks he might transfer to a different school. He hasn’t heard back from Haverford yet, but is he still seriously considering the notion?

Charlie, diplomatically: Given that Zay and I were able to lay everything out there and at least confront the reality of our situation, I don’t think it’s really a necessary maneuver anymore. I mean, the situation is far from ideal, but that I can deal with. I’ve been living in far from ideal my whole life.

Riley: Sad, but sort of inspiring, I guess.

Charlie: I will admit though… it was kind of nice, going through that whole process. Just going out there, you know, proving that I could do things. That I was capable. [ smiling to himself ] If anything, at least I came away with that.

Riley mirrors his smile. Then they’re back on the subject of prom, Charlie lamenting that he doesn’t see what the point is of going if he can’t be there with the person he would actually want to spend it with.

Riley: Considering my ideal date has literally been banned from all school activities and therefore can go nowhere near it, I think I can say I relate.

Charlie: Tragic.

Charlie mentions what his sister said about not making it that deep and just going with friends, and this seems to strike something in Riley. A smile drifts onto her face.

Charlie: Oh no. I know that look. What are you thinking?

Riley: Just that dear Rosamund might have a point. If we are going to be miserable and repressed all night long, then we should at least be miserable in good company.

Charlie: … I don’t know if I like where this is going…

Riley turns to face him, a mischievous smile on her face. She leans in conspiratorially -- her delivery would be more convincing though if she wasn’t so inherently cute.

Riley: Charlie Gardner! [ in a whisper ] Will you go to prom with me?

Charlie stares at her, expression betraying nothing. She matches his gaze, wiggling her eyebrows. Then he can’t help but crack a smile.

Charlie: Well when you look at me like that, how could I say no…

Riley grins, bouncing on her feet and lightly punching him on the shoulder.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

The first step to putting Lucas in less jeopardy -- actually participating in class. He’s meeting with HARPER BURGESS to discuss how to make his optics better in that regard. Unfortunately, there’s really only one thing he can do…

Harper: If you do even one performance, then at least you’d have something to point to if the case attempts to jump down your throat.

True. Although he looks like he’d rather die, Lucas reluctantly accepts that point. So it’s official -- he’ll be performing a number this week!

Harper: It’s for the best, actually. Everyone else is so consumed with prom fever, they won’t even remember it happened.

Zay: Are you kidding? It’s Lucas James Friar. No one is ever going to forget this.

Lucas: Yeah, um, [ pointing to Zay ] what is he doing here again?

Harper gestures Zay forward to join them. She explains that considering Lucas is literally starting from scratch, he’s going to need help when it comes to choreography. And singing. And well… basically all of it. She figured Zay is one of their best performers and far more willing to lend a hand than, say, Maya. If Lucas wants a chance of pulling off a decent performance, having his help would be his best bet.

Harper: That is, of course, if you’re up for it, Zay.

Zay: Honestly, I would welcome the distraction. It’s been… an interesting few weeks.

So that’s that. We’ve got the team, we’ve got the plan -- time to make shit happen! Even if it kills Lucas in the process. As the backbeat floats in…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “I Think He Knows” as performed by Taylor Swift || Performed by Dylan Orlando (feat. Asher Garcia)

Two AMBITION firsts in one, as Dylan kicks off his first mostly solo performance by bringing Taylor Swift into the song catalogue. He starts off at his locker, giving us a glimpse into the interior which despite the mess is basically as bursting with love as he is -- full of photos of his friends, his family, and Asher.

Of course, there’s Asher.

And that’s what he’s focused on as he slides into the pre-chorus (“He’s got that boyish look that I like in a man, I am an architect I’m drawing up the plans”). When he sings “It’s like I’m seventeen nobody understands,” he sure means it, because he is seventeen, and nobody does understand. Whew, Taylor really just knows how to write ‘em!

Then he launches into dance, strutting his way down the halls with a definite spring in his step. It’s nowhere near as elaborate as performer choreography would be, but it’s charming and just sharp enough that it’s clear Dylan’s got some real talent.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Dylan takes the number into the auditorium, making his way over to the prop loft where he’s guaranteed to find Asher. There’s a brief sequence he basically serenades Asher from down below, scaling the fence around the set pieces until he convinces him to come down. The whole thing is dynamic and fun and a little bit theatrical, humoring their classmates as they watch from the stage before class.

On the bridge, Asher takes over the vocals, taking Dylan’s hand and leading him through the backstage areas. Dylan follows along happily, waiting until they’ve reached the other side of the stage to pull him back towards him. Asher presses their foreheads together (“Where we gonna go… I whisper in the dark… where we gonna go…”), then drifts away as Dylan belts out the note that throws us back into the chorus.

The final swell of the song takes place center stage, surrounded by classmates and with nothing but good energy. The techies are laughing along, cheering, and even the performers are enjoying the rendition. Dylan and Asher sway together in a circle with the beat, doing a final spin under Dylan’s arm before falling back together and breaking into laughter to take it home. The A class breaks into applause, Asher pulling Dylan down into a quick kiss.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you prom-pose!

In the high energy after the performance, Nigel casts another glance towards Jade across the stage. It seems like he really might do something, and she definitely acknowledged his eye contact… but then nothing.

Isadora also notices the exchange, curiosity piqued. She raises her eyebrows, Sherlock brain turning before Maya pulls her into a conversation about how the twink performance was clearly not better than hers and Zay’s… right? Right?

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

Isadora brings up the notion while hanging out with Maya and Riley, the three of them spending an evening together to map out prom logistics. She questions if either of them noticed it too, or whether Nigel has ever even shown interest in their classmates before. Maya claims he’s never dated anyone in their class, and Riley states that maybe he’s just shy.

Maya scoffs, focused on painting her toenails a shiny silver.

Maya: Look, Nigel is lean meat. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s talented, but the boy has no moxy. He has let Farkle walk all over him for three years, when if he just put like, a crumb of effort in he may have already had a lead by this point.

Riley: You know, it could be that he just… doesn’t care that much.

Maya: Well that was his first mistake.

The point is, if Nigel does have interest in Jade -- which Maya doesn’t get, because she forgets who Jade is half the time -- then it’s more than likely he will do absolutely nothing about it.

Isadora: That’s too bad.

Maya: I mean… I guess.

Riley: Maybe they just want to go with their friends. Prom doesn’t have to be inherently romantic, you know. [ off Isadora’s nod ] I mean, I’m going with Charlie, and --

Maya: Wait. [ sitting up ] You and Charlie are going together?

Riley: Yeah. But, like, just as friends.

Maya: Oh… oh. That’s… interesting.

There’s a plot twist. If Riley’s unnerved by Maya’s tone, she has the right to be. It’s an odd moment, and it’s only subdued by Cory calling for the girls from the living room. There’s a surprise here for them!

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - NIGHT

And what a surprise it is. Maya practically screams when she finds KATY HART in the living area, having just arrived with VALERIE DE LA CRUZ. She runs over and launches into her arms, the two of them hugging tightly.

Maya: Oh my God, what are you doing here?

Katy: Val helped me. Paid my way, so that I could be here for prom.

Isadora: No way?

Valerie: Oh, it was nothing. Hardly a penny out of my pocket. I know how much it meant to me to be here for this weekend -- figured the least I could do would be to allow a good friend the same opportunity.

Certainly no arguments here. Maya and Katy hug again, elated. Cory and Riley exchange smiles, Cory pulling her to his side and into a hug.

Valerie pulls Isadora aside, greeting her and stating that she wants to do something special after prom. Like a girls night, deglam and rejuvenate and catch up. Deglam being key, because Valerie knows Isadora is going to look stunning. She can’t wait!

Isadora is totally open to the idea. She nods, matching her enthusiasm.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Jack is at his desk, going through the Bradford paperwork. He’s flagging and highlighting every potential point he might have to refute in an argument, emails open on his desktop of pitches he’s going to send to school board members for support if the complaint breaks.

Eric pokes his head in and knocks on the door pointedly.

Eric: Knock knock.

Jack: Who’s there?

Eric: Stop obsessing.

Jack: Okay, we’re done with the bit --

Eric smiles, leaning against the doorframe. He knows Jack is concerned, but he’s already thought so extensively about this problem. He needs to take a mental break from it, before he burns himself out. Besides, there’s always the chance that it won’t even ever go public.

Yes, a chance… but a chance isn’t a guarantee. Jack claims he just wants to be prepared for the worst, which Eric can’t exactly argue against.

What he can do is change the subject. He states he wanted to double check that they’re both still on for chaperoning the dance on Saturday. Jack confirms, wondering why plans would have changed.

Eric: Well… you know, given your own personal circumstances, I just figured you might not want to --

Jack: Eric, I’m fine. [ with a shrug ] After all, what better distraction is there from the shambles of your personal life than watching out for a bunch of rowdy, dramatic teenagers all night long? Can’t think of anything better.

Eric: At least your humor is still intact.

Jack makes a face, accenting the point.

Zay, pre-lap: Okay, literally, what the hell is the matter with you?

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Zay is attempting to teach Lucas choreography, but it’s clearly far from easy. Not that that’s surprising, but it’s evident that Lucas was not meant to be a dancer. It’s a challenge unlike anything Zay has ever confronted before, regardless of how hard Lucas is trying.

Zay: I don’t -- like, is your brain connected to your limbs? How is this not clicking?

Riley enters, brightening when she finds them both. She asks how everything is going, and the look that both of them give her basically answers her question for them.

Riley: I hope I’m not interrupting.

Zay: No, you know what? It’s good. I need a break. Rome wasn’t built in a God damn free period. [ pointing to Lucas ] Don’t go anywhere with your two left feet, Fry Pan.

Lucas holds out his arms. What do you want from me? As Zay marches off, Riley tries to hold back her smile as she joins Lucas at center stage.

Riley: So seems like it’s going good, then.

Lucas: Oh, haha. [ making a face ] You know -- and this may shock you -- I’m not a dancer.

Riley, gasping: No. You’re kidding?

Lucas: I know, I know. Brand new information.

Riley smiles, asking to take a look at Zay’s choreography sheets. Lucas hands them over, Riley hopping onto the stacked acting blocks and reading them over for herself. He watches her as she reads, only shifting his gaze to his feet when she glances up to look at him.

She says that all things considered, the choreography isn’t so bad. He just has to keep working at it, and the whole thing is pretty low stakes anyway.

Riley: What even made you decide to do a performance? I have to admit, I never thought I would see the day.

Lucas: … well, with everything I did this year, figure it’s the least I can do. Just putting the karmic cycle back in balance.

Riley: You believe in karma?

Lucas: Could be. Either way, mine is shit. Objectively speaking.

Riley gives him a look. She glances back down at the papers and then states she’s sure he’ll be fine, and she for one is looking forward to the show. He rolls his eyes.

Lucas: You know, they have words for people who demonstrate ridiculous belief in unreliable things. It’s called blind faith. Usually it’s reserved for important things though. Gods, governments. Conventional belief systems.

Riley: Well, I’m nothing if not unconventional.

Lucas, quietly: Yeah.

The tension between them is palpable, even with the fair amount of space between them. They hold each other’s gaze, another one of those moments where they can’t seem to look away from one another. If it were possible, they might just stand there and look at each other forever.

Fortunately -- or maybe unfortunately, depending on your perspective -- Zay keeps that from happening. He reenters and tells Lucas to get ready to run it again, totally oblivious to their lingering moment. Riley hops off the acting blocks as Lucas clears his throat, directing his attention back to Zay.

Riley: I’ll get out of your way. Good luck. [ smiling ] Both of you.

Zay waves her off, sending her on her way. Once she’s gone, he turns back to Lucas and lets out a grand sigh.

Lucas: Now you’re just being a bitch.

INT. AAA - COSTUME LOFT - DAY

Jade is in the costume department, ignoring the task of organizing the leftover fabrics from this year and painstakingly attempting to fix the project she’s been working on all week. When someone enters she jumps and tries to hide the garment, straightening up and nervously looking towards the doors.

It’s not who she was expecting. Isadora enters, pushing a costume rack.

Isadora: Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.

Jade: No, it’s okay. I’m just um… it’s fine.

Isadora nods, bringing the rack all the way in. She explains that she got a head start on the inventorying of the costumes, and all the ones on the rack here are finished. She intends to put them back after theatre lab, if that’s alright.

Jade, surprised: Um… sure. Yeah, that would be helpful.

Isadora: Great. [ a beat ] I really am sorry, Jade. It wasn’t intentional, but I know I dropped the ball when it comes to pulling my weight on our team. [ hesitant ] And our friendship.

Well, Jade isn’t going to tell her otherwise. She shrugs lightly, acknowledging the apology but not necessarily accepting it quite yet. It’ll take time, and Isadora gets that. But she’s said her piece, and now all she can do is keep working to make reparations.

As she’s heading out, though, she decides there’s one more thing she wants to say.

Isadora: About Nigel.

Jade: Huh?

Isadora: Nigel. If you want to go to prom with him… then you should just ask him yourself. Don’t wait around for some boy to do the job right when you’re perfectly capable of doing it -- and probably better. He’s chicken, but the way he’s been looking at you… I’m pretty sure he would say yes.

Something to think about, at least. Jade considers it as Isadora exits, leaving her alone with the costumes.

INT. AAA - CAFETERIA - DAY

Riley has joined Charlie, Clarissa, and Haley for lunch. As they chat the notion of Charlie and Riley going to prom together comes back up, Haley visibly taken aback by the reveal. She starts to question how that came to be, obviously struggling to accept it, when their conversation is totally derailed by Maya paying a visit to their table.

Although she’s all bright smiles, the tone is mildly threatening as Maya confronts Riley and Charlie. She also is questioning their union for promenade, wondering if their admittedly perfect cookie-cutter image is intent on also campaigning for prom court. Because it would sure be a shame for them to have to go head to head…

Maya might be built like a pixie, but the threat behind her words resonates loud and clear. Charlie shakes his head, stammering to correct her thinking.

Charlie: Oh, we’re not --

Riley: We weren’t planning to --

Yeah, no. It’s a no. This seems to appease Maya, who relaxes and turns back on the charm. Still, her friendly laughter still feels ominous as she wishes them the best, and reminds them not to forget to vote for her and Zay for prom king and queen come Saturday evening.

Clarissa shakes her head, reiterating her former stance.

Clarissa: Nowhere and nothing is safe.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

Eric is putting on his most encouraging counselor smile, sitting across from Isadora and Farkle. He’s just wrapping up a pitch, stating that considering they’ve become such good friends in the last few months, he thought maybe it would be a good idea for them to go to prom as a duo. Just as friends. Pals, looking out for one another! Good, old, promenade buddies.

Farkle seems entertained by the mere suggestion. Isadora looks unamused.

Isadora: So you want me to babysit him.

Eric: That’s -- that’s not what I said.

Farkle: That’s basically what you said.

Eric tries to save face, but he forgot he’s dealing with the two most intuitive (and judgmental) students in the junior class. They see right through his facade, recognizing this tactic for exactly what it is.

Isadora: Also, what makes you assume I don’t already have a date?

Eric: … well do you?

[ Farkle looks to Isadora, raising his eyebrows. When she huffs, he cracks a smirk. ]

Isadora: No, but that’s not the point.

Eric relents, talking to them straight. Yes, they want Farkle to have company at the dance due to his history over the last few months. Ideally, this would be a small ask, considering they are friends and would likely be hanging out at the event anyway.

Eric: You are friends, yes?

Isadora: Request pending.

Farkle: I think of it more as intellectual sparring partners.

There’s really no good way to respond to that. Eric requests that they consider the option, as it would be a favor to him if nothing else. Give him a little peace of mind.

That’s just the selling point he needed to flex. Isadora glances between them, then sighs, claiming Farkle will pick her up when she decides he will.

Eric is thrilled, and Farkle doesn’t look all that opposed either. This, he claims, is a good thing. They’re thwarting problems before they even arise. No problems for junior prom this year!

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Clarissa runs into Charlie, concerned. She takes his arm.

Clarissa: Problem. Big problem.

When Charlie asks her what the heck is going on, she states that Haley has finally broken down. She’s up in the costume loft and is refusing to talk, and she’s effectively decided she is not going to prom. Whatever crazy plague is running through their class, it’s finally hit her.

Charlie sighs, nodding and telling Clarissa he’ll handle it. He takes off at a jog towards the auditorium.

INT. AAA - COSTUME LOFT - DAY

Haley is sitting amongst the costumes, wiping tears from her cheeks. When Charlie pulls himself into the loft it almost makes it worse, Haley shaking her head and telling him to go away.

Haley: As if this could not get any more humiliating.

Charlie: Hey, don’t worry, I have had… my fair share of breakdowns up here.

He settles down next to her, in the exact spot he was crying just an episode ago. He waits patiently for her to acknowledge him again, asking her why she’s so upset. Clarissa told him she wasn’t going to prom -- what’s that all about?

Haley shrugs, huffing and avoiding eye contact with him. She shakily admits that some part of her always thought… maybe it was stupid, but he really doesn’t get it. They can be friends for years, spend all this time together, and he still has no idea. And she just… she feels like such an idiot. All of this is just so stupid.

Charlie pauses, searching for how to tread cautiously.

Charlie: If we’re being honest with each other… I know.

Haley: You -- you know. You know that I --

Charlie: Yeah. I have for a while.

Haley: Oh God. [ hiding her head in her knees ] That’s even worse.

Charlie: It’s not, Hales. You can’t help who you like. [ a beat ] Although, still being honest… I don’t really think you do.

Haley lifts her head, frowning at him. She asks what he means, and Charlie tries to figure out the best way to articulate what he’s thinking.

Charlie: Believe me, I speak from experience here, but I think it’s… really easy to become in love with the idea of something. Things that seem easy, and perfect, if they could just work out a certain way. So we fall in love with those ideals, rather than the way things actually are.

Haley: So, what? You think I’m just making everything up?

Charlie: No, I believe some of it is real. I believe you love me -- and that makes sense, because I love you, too. We’ve been friends for years, like you said, and I can’t imagine what my time at Triple A would be like without you. I don’t want to.

[ Haley wipes her eyes. ]

Charlie: But I think, realistically, that’s all we’re ever going to be. And I think you know that, too -- it’s just safer to keep things the way they are now. Where you never get what you think you want, but then you never get hurt, either.

Haley: … okay, you’re kind of freaking me out here. Get out of my head.

Charlie, laughing: Like I said, talking from experience.

A quiet moment passes between them. Charlie goes on to state that Haley shouldn’t give up her junior prom, especially not over him. They’ll both be there, and they’ll still get to spend the evening together with Clarissa and Riley and the rest of their friends. It’ll be fun, even if it’s not the fantasy they imagine in their heads.

Charlie: And as for the rest of it… I guess you and I will both just have to see what the future holds. Rather than hiding behind expectations we know we’re never gonna meet.

A tough pill to swallow, but important. Haley exhales and then nods, giving up. Trading out the fantasy, but perhaps for the better. She gives him a smile.

Haley: I do love you, Charlie Gardner. That much is true.

Charlie returns the beam, accepting the hug she gives him.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Jade is standing outside the black box, watching Nigel chat with Yindra and NICK YOGI. Dylan and Asher stand behind her, hyping her up as she gears up to do the impossible.

Asher: Just be yourself. Be straight-forward.

Dylan: Go in there and get what you came for.

Jade: Right. Sure. [ a beat ] What if he says no?

Dylan: Sock him.

Asher glares at him, Dylan shrugging before smiling to himself. Asher takes the more serious approach, bracing Jade’s shoulders from behind.

Asher: If he says no, then it’s his loss. You’re Jade Beamon --

Dylan: Jade motherfucking Beamon!

Asher: And he would be lucky to get even an evening of your time. [ patting her shoulders ] Go get him, queen.

Dylan lightly nudges her forward, Jade taking a deep breath. Then she marches into the classroom, approaching Nigel and tapping him on the shoulder.

When he turns around and meets her eyes, for a second it seems like she’s going to run. But she squares her shoulders, clears her throat, and speaks as confidently as she can.

Jade: Nigel.

Nigel, surprised: Jade?

Jade: We should go to prom together. If you want to. I mean -- you should want to go with me. But only if you do. The point is -- will you go to prom with me? Maybe?

The back and forth between assertive and timid is jarring, but also quite charming. Nigel takes a moment to fully absorb what’s happening, but the smile that blooms across his face is near instantaneous.

Nigel: Yes. Yeah, I’d -- I’d like that a lot.

Jade: Great! I mean, um, great. Good. I’ll text you with details.

Nigel: Okay. Great.

Jade: Great. Okay… great.

Jade spins on her heel and marches back out, Yindra and Yogi exchanging wild looks. But Nigel is fully endeared, obviously not at all opposed to this turn of events.

As Jade escapes back into the hall, Dylan and Asher mob her with congratulatory hugs and pats on the back! She did it! Jade Beamon is going to prom with Nigel Chey, baby!

In tone with the celebratory mood, the bold brass opening floats in…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “I’ve Gotta Be Me” as performed by Glee Cast || Performed by Lucas James Friar (feat. Zay Babineaux)

Another AMBITION first for the bucket list, Lucas gives his first almost solo performance, with a Broadway number, and that isn’t fueled by pure rage. Zay is on stage with him to help with the choreography, but in some ways that’s a nice way to help take the pressure off. It’s sort of like a dress rehearsal rather than an actual performance.

And look… it’s not great. Lucas is not a performer, and he was never pretending to be. But it’s passable, and honestly the vocals aren’t half bad. There are even a couple of rare, fleeting moments where it seems like he might actually be having fun.

The real fun is for the audience though. His classmates are near entranced by the spectacle, having watched Lucas do nothing but grump and roll his eyes for three years straight -- and especially the majority of this year. Farkle is watching with his jaw dropped open, blankly stunned. Riley is hiding her fond grin behind her hands, shaking her head. Isadora is openly laughing, but with him rather than at him. Even Jack and Eric came to watch, thoroughly amused, and maybe a little bit proud.

The techies are cheering along the entire time, and when Lucas gets through that last note and hits those last steps with Zay, they leap to their feet and give him a standing ovation. Given the year he’s had, the uproarious applause sort of feel well-deserved.

He survived, God damn it, he survived!

INT. AAA - COSTUME LOFT - DAY

Jade is leading Asher into the floor level of the costume department by both hands, the latter having been instructed to keep his eyes closed. He’s playing along, but nervously, reminding Jade that he hates surprises and also hates not being able to see.

Asher: You know going blind is one of my anxieties.

Jade: Everything is one of your anxieties. But hold on, we’re almost there.

She gets him right in front of where she’s hung up her latest project, pulling back and instructing him to open his eyes. He does, seeing the surprise and expression growing shocked.

It’s a pair of suit jackets, custom-made for junior prom. They align with the theme in terms of the subtle allusions to stars and shimmering elements factored into the design, but they’re inverse in terms of colors -- one mainly creme-colored with darker accents, and the other dark with lighter accents. Matching, but unique. And clear labors of love, from a seamstress who knows her craft.

Jade explains how she got the idea to make them, how she wanted to make sure they were clearly a matching set like Asher and Dylan, but also distinct from one another.

Jade: We just used to talk all the time about how fun it would be to have custom stuff for prom, when we got there one day. And you used to always talk about what you and Dylan could wear, but then would get all embarrassed, as if that was silly. Like it would never happen, that you couldn’t last that long. [ a beat ] Well, we got here, and I just figured after the hell year we’ve had…

Asher is staring at them, speechless. He’s tearing up, at a loss for what to do. Jade takes the impending waterworks as a bad sign, searching for a way to recover.

Jade: I mean, if there’s something you’d like better, you can just tell me. Or if you already picked out tuxes, that’s totally fine too, you don’t have to wear them --

Asher interrupts her nervous rambles, barreling her with a hug. The embrace is tight, and although there are tears the tone in his voice conveys that they’re happy.

Asher: I love you so much.

Jade beams, getting choked up too. She hugs him back.

Jade, teary but laughing: I love you, too.

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - NIGHT

Prom night is upon us! There’s a flurry of activity at the Matthews apartment, making it more lively than its been in months.

AUGGIE MATTHEWS is there to help Riley get ready and spend the weekend with Cory. Riley is obviously happy that he’s there, grinning when she emerges from the hall in her gorgeous lavender gown and he jumps up in excitement. She questions where their dad is and Auggie nods towards the fire escape, Cory visible through the window.

EXT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - FIRE ESCAPE - NIGHT

Riley delicately climbs her way out onto the balcony, Cory going to help her through when he notices she’s trying. Once they’ve got her upright, he gets a good look at her and goes soft with fatherly pride.

Cory, softly: You look lovely.

Riley smiles, both of them adjusting further out onto the fire escape. They take a moment to look at the scenery of their street, throwing a couple of jokes back and forth about how she’s going to prom with Charlie and whether or not Cory should be worried (he should not at all).

After a moment of quiet, Riley pecks up the courage to speak on what she really needs to say.

Riley: When mom called a couple weeks back, it wasn’t just to check in. She, um… [ off his wary expression ] She wants me to come upstate, too. For senior year.

Cory: … oh. [ swallowing hard ] Oh.

Riley: I’m not telling you because I’ve made any sort of decision, yet, or anything like that. I’m going to take the time to really… really think about it, and make sure I make the right choice for me. [ a beat ] But I just… wanted you to know what was going on. And also that no matter what happens, I’m still with you. I’m not going to leave you alone.

Cory nods, trying his best to accept it. Riley hesitates, deciding if she wants to continue.

Riley: Regardless of what I choose though… I need to be clear that I can’t be in the middle anymore. I love you both, but I am tearing myself apart trying to keep up with the constant back and forth. Trying to keep things civil in this family when I don’t think that’s supposed to be my job.

Cory: It’s not… Riley, I never meant for --

Riley: I know. And part of it is me -- feels like I’m always looking for other things to focus on and fix rather than myself. [ with a deep breath ] But I can’t keep living like that. I need to start focusing on myself… and that comes with setting boundaries. I love you, dad, but I can’t carry your baggage with mom anymore. It’s your fight, not mine.

Cory hesitates, obviously feeling guilty. Then he nods, assuring her that he’ll try his best to remember that. He doesn’t want to make this any harder for her than it already is. And if she’s trying to get him to hear her, then he’s listening. He really is going to try.

Riley smiles lightly, leaning forward to pull him into a hug. He returns the embrace, stating that he’s grateful he gets to be here with her on this important night. They pull apart, Cory fixing a piece of her hair.

Cory: Absolutely beautiful.

She smiles again.

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

Katy and Maya are sharing a similar bonding moment. Katy has taken over eyeliner duties, adjusting Maya’s makeup with her expert hand. She claims Maya has a tendency for overdoing it, which makes her laugh.

Maya: Tell me something I don’t know.

When she’s all finished, Katy looks at her daughter lovingly. She looks stunning, in a beautiful silver and white dress and blonde hair glossy as ever.

Katy: Like bona fide royalty. [ touching her chin ] No matter what the votes say.

Maya grins. She pulls her into an embrace.

INT. MINKUS HOME - NIGHT

JENNIFER MINKUS is nitpicking at Farkle, brushing off the shoulders of his navy suit jacket. He tells her to stop fussing, but she requests just one more second. She reaches up on instinct to fix his hair then remembers there’s not as much there as there used to be. Then she smiles, bracing his shoulders.

Jennifer: Beautiful boy. Perfect.

The housekeeper claims that the driver is downstairs, so Farkle should start heading out. STUART MINKUS shares an exchange with him as he’s in the entryway, offering him a Minkus good luck charm. It’s a silver lapel pin, a little crest shape related to their family coat of arms.

Stuart carefully pins it to Farkle’s lapel.

Stuart: You know, I wore this when I went on my first date with your mother -- and look where we are now.

Farkle, scoffing: It’s not -- this isn’t that kind of…

He doesn’t finish the sentence, letting it trail off. Stuart’s expression is amused, claiming he doesn’t quite buy it, but relenting for now.

When he finishes and smooths the lapel to crisp perfection, he takes a moment to really take in his son. Still with him, still standing in spite of everything that’s unfolded. It’s clear that there’s something he wants to say to him, heavy with the same weight that him sleeping at his hospital bedside all through his recovery held.

Yet, the words still don’t exist. Emotional expression has never been paramount in the Minkus household, and old habits die hard.

Instead, he pats his shoulder bracingly and wishes him luck. Jennifer comes to join Stuart as Farkle steps out, both of them wishing him a good time. Have some fun! This is your night of freedom, soak it up for all it’s worth!

Isadora, pre-lap: I don’t see how much fun it could be when we’re being watched by faculty all night long.

INT. ERIC’S APARTMENT - ISADORA’S ROOM - NIGHT

Isadora is seated at the vanity in Eric’s guest room, the space she’s taken over while staying with him. It seems that per their last conversation, Eric is keeping to his word with Valerie and is giving Isadora an actual legitimate place to stay in the mean time rather than Blue’s couch.

She’s sitting impatiently as Lucas stands behind her, braiding pieces of her hair to complete her prom look. A hidden talent, perhaps? It looks pretty, to say the least. He plainly states that she’ll be having more fun than him no matter what, there’s little doubt about that.

As he wraps up the last braid, Isadora pulls on her Converse and carefully gets to her feet.

Lucas: What, no heels?

Isadora: Are you kidding me? I think I’d break my ankles.

Lucas: Very “I’m not like other girls” of you.

Isadora: This is not about faux-originality, this is about my comfort and safety. As well as the safety of others.

The shoes hardly put a dent in the overall ensemble anyway. She’s in a gorgeous dark blue number, accented with a sheer layer of star patterns and custom designed by one of Valerie’s designer friends. It’s certainly not her typical ensemble, but she makes it work. Beautiful, but still a force to be reckoned with.

Lucas smiles, lightly punching her shoulder. He tells her she looks good, and she nudges him back before saying thanks.

Lucas, more serious: Sorry I can’t be there. To be there for you.

Isadora: It’s whatever. Be sad for your own sake, not mine.

Eric calls for Isadora from the hall, the two of them heading towards the door.

INT. ERIC’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Eric is adjusting his suit and tie in the hall mirror when there’s a curt knock at the door. He goes to open it, delighted to greet Farkle on the other side. He gestures him inside, Farkle awkwardly making his way in and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Both of them soften when Isadora emerges from the hall, obviously exceeding expectations. Eric tells her that she looks great -- Farkle says nothing, because he has no words. How are you supposed to react when your intellectual sparring partner shows up looking like that?

For a moment, all of them just hang awkwardly in the living area. Lucas clears his throat, scratching at his neck. That’s as good a cue as any, and Eric claims they should get going if they’re going to get there early to help set up. The price they pay, carpooling with a chaperone.

Eric ushers them out, giving Lucas a pat on the shoulder and telling him he’ll drop him off at his destination for the first half of the evening. And away they go! As their door closes…

INT. GARDNER HOME - NIGHT

Another opens, Riley standing bright and smiling on the doorstep of the Gardner home. AMBROSE GARDNER takes care to greet her cheerfully and help her inside, asking if there’s anything he can get her.

She should be grateful that the sanest member of the family met her first. ELEANOR GARDNER excitedly comes in from the kitchen moments later, greeting her enthusiastically and wanting to know a million things about her. Of course, they’ve heard so much about her already -- feels like Charlie is always talking about her!

From the living room, Rosie and DAISY GARDNER watch curiously.

Daisy: She’s pretty.

Rosie: Yeah.

Daisy: How did Charlie manage to get that?

Rosie: Shh.

As if summoned, Charlie rushes down the stairs. He looks charming in his relatively simple tuxedo, the touches of purple in his tie and pocket square perfectly accenting Riley’s dress. She gives him a hug as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, all of the Gardners eyeing them as they interact in front of them for the first time.

And to be fair, they look lovely. They seem near classic, the picture of prom perfection… but it’s so… boring. Whatever spark of flirtation Eleanor thinks she’s seeing between them, it’s absolutely nothing.

Still, she insists on getting some photos before they go. Charlie is embarrassed, but he allows it. As they’re assembling against the wall by the door, he leans over to whisper to her.

Charlie: Sorry about this. You look great, by the way.

Riley: Thanks. You too. And it’s fine. These’ll be great pictures to show my kids someday.

The choice of “my” rather than “our” is very pointed. Charlie gives her a look, elbowing her and earning a giggle out of her. Eleanor captures the moment, claiming that’s the perfect one.

Then Charlie tries to plot their escape, claiming they really should get going. Ambrose thanks Riley for driving -- Eleanor jokingly warns them not to stay out too late! A-wink!

Charlie looks like he’d rather be dead. Riley holds back her laughter as they escape into the night, the whole family sending them off cheerfully.

Once they’re gone, Ambrose and Eleanor exchange thoughtful looks.

Ambrose: She seems nice.

Eleanor, “knowingly:” Mhm… pretty…

Yeah, she really thinks this is something else. As she saunters back towards the kitchen…

INT. ORLANDO HOME - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “That’s What I Like” as performed by Bruno Mars || Instrumental

The techie pre-prom gathering is in full swing, the techie jams playlist on shuffle as they get ready together and mingle. Some of their parents are also in attendance (and likely to have a party of their own once they get them the hell out of there), namely LEVI GARCIA, EMILY GARCIA, and of course RANDALL ORLANDO.

Randall subtly interrupts a conversation between Lucas and Jade, where she’s just finished commenting on how nice it is for this gathering to be snapback free. It’s true that Lucas does stick out like a sore thumb, in his plain old blue flannel and jeans rather than dressed up like the rest of them.

The two of them exchange a bit of small talk before Randall gets to the point, asking Lucas about how things are going. Considering the last he heard about everything was literally picking up Dylan from the police precinct because of the joy ride, it stands to reason that he would be interested in knowing since he’s let Lucas back in his home since then.

To his credit, Randall has also been more of a dad to Lucas than his own, in spite of how avoidant Lucas can be. So he tells him the truth, stating that it’s been better but it’s also definitely been worse. He apologizes for what happened with the joy ride, and assures him that he’s banking on that sort of thing never happening again. Randall gives him a nod and a pat on the shoulder, approving.

The moment is interrupted as Nate gets their attention, using a cooking spoon as a faux microphone as he plays MC. He thanks them all for coming (which Dave and Jeff jeer at) before claiming he has the distinct pleasure of introducing their host and his paramour for the evening, showing off their custom-made, never before seen Jade Beamon originals.

Nate: First up -- you know may know him as Dyl Pickle, vlogger extraordinaire, the deviant who once stuck a whopping thirty-two sticky notes to Shawn Hunter’s back in one class period. He’s as gay as they come, in every sense of the word. Host of the evening and renowned “kissing expert” --

Asher, from upstairs: NATE!

Nate: What? He told me to say it! Anyway, let’s give it up for the one-of-a-kind Dylan Blake Orlando.

All of them cheer theatrically as Dylan comes downstairs, sliding down the banister and hopping onto the bottom step. He shows off the suit jacket Jade made, looking even fresher and fun actually on him than just hanging in the costume loft. He spins and hams it up for a moment, then backs off so Nate can continue.

Nate: Equally as effervescent, our other star of the evening is not to be discounted. He’s smart, he’s sharp, he’s the scariest person you will ever meet if you piss him off or forget to organize the paints in alphabetical order. King of production design, prop mix master, puts the Ash in Ash Cash Money --

Dylan, taking the spoon: The love of my life --

Nate, taking it back: Hey, this is my gig! I didn’t ask for ad-libs.

Jeff: Drunk on power…

Nate: Anyway, let’s give it up ladies and gentlemen for the only one of us with any class, Asher L. Garcia!

Asher jogs down the stairs, looking equally as iconic in his custom suit jacket. He does a small spin as well to give the item it’s due moment, Dylan cheering the loudest of all of them.

Randall: Very nice, very good. Now, could I get a moment with my “gay vlogger sticky note” son?

The techies all cheer and laugh at his take, Dylan sliding across the hardwood to meet him. Jade and Asher link up, the former taking his hands and practically bouncing as she proclaims how good the suits turned out. They look amazing!

Lucas looks around at all of his friends, glammed up and excited. Distinctly left out of the excitement, only this time not by his own choice. Somehow, that’s worse.

He’s pulled out of it as Nate declares they still have one order of business, the seven of them regrouping. Dylan slips back into the circle between Asher and Lucas.

Nate: Now, as with any good tradition, we have some firsts to establish. And this shit is important -- it may be the most important thing we do in our lives at Triple A.

Jade: Speak for yourself.

Nate: As we know, the prom court institution at Adams is royally corrupt. It’s the same shit every single year.

Dave: Nothing new.

Jeff: Same old shit.

Nate: And to that, the techie tots say no more. We will be crowning our own reigning royalty this year, and that honor happens tonight. Without further ado --

For what it’s worth, the only two that don’t seem to know what’s happening are Asher and Dylan. They watch in confusion as Dave retrieves two pin cases from his interior pocket, handing them to Jade and Lucas respectively. Then they turn to face them, grinning wide at the stunned expressions on Dylan and Asher’s faces.

Nate: Congratulations, Pickle and Bird Bones. You’re fucking royalty.

Jade and Lucas move forward, pinning the brand new charms to Asher and Dylan’s lapels, respectively. The pins are small medals, the band being monochrome like techie uniforms and the metal piece a small crown.

The true kings have been crowned. Whatever happens next hardly matters.

Jade: Okay, we have to get out of here before Asher cries again.

Randall and the parents swoop in, insisting on one group photo before they all head out to wreak havoc. At first Lucas steps out of the photo, allowing them their classy group photo, but then all of them shout for him to get in the picture as well.

EXT. ORLANDO HOME - NIGHT

Dave leads the charge down the steps to the “party van,” i.e. their techie van they use for Home Depot runs. On the steps, Dylan and Asher hang back and check in with Lucas one last time.

Asher: You sure you don’t want to come?

Dylan, sing-song: We could sneak you in...

Lucas knows they damn well mean it. But he waves them off, assuring them that he’ll be fine. They need to go have fun and not worry about him for a night.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Good Love (Feel Like This)” as performed by Sir, Please || Performed by Nigel Chey (feat. Dave Williams, Nick Yogi, and AAA Juniors)

And so it is. Asher gives him a pat on the arm and then they’re off, leaving Lucas on the steps alone. He watches his friends head out without him, bittersweet smile on his face.

As the groovy rock hit floats in…

INT. PROM VENUE - NIGHT

Prom roll up! The event is hopping, the large ballroom space beautifully decorated towards the stars theme and everyone’s appropriately matched outfits shimmering under the low lighting. The brightest lights are geared towards the DJ stage, which alternates between a sound system and live performances.

At present, Nigel is giving a riveting vocal performance while the junior and senior class parties on the dance floor. Dave is backing on guitar, Yogi on the keyboard, and other B Class students filling out the rest of the band.

Jade, Dylan, and Asher are right by the stage, Jade watching him perform with a mix of shyness and excitement. Every once in a while, he’ll look over at her and crack a smile.

Dylan and Asher are distracted when Isadora wanders over to join them, all of them immediately complimenting one another on their one-of-a-kind outfits. Dylan gives her a hug. Asher asks how it is being accompanied by Farkle Minkus, which Isadora claims isn’t terrible -- but it’s not particularly enchanting either.

Meanwhile, Farkle has just met up with Riley and Maya. They ask him how his evening is going so far -- is he having fun? It’s not too overwhelming, is it?

Farkle: Oh, yeah. Sweaty room, loud music, constant surveillance, date who didn’t even want to go with me. Time of my life, girls. Undoubtedly.

On the opposite side of the room, Charlie has just made his way over to the refreshments. He reaches for the ladle for the punch just at the same time as Zay, their hands brushing before they look up and lock eyes.

For a moment, neither of them say anything. They just take one another in -- well-groomed, nice tuxedos, the most they’ve even really seen of each other since the break-up -- before Zay manages to say something.

Zay: You look… classic.

Innocent enough. Charlie laughs nervously, nodding.

Charlie: And you look…

He can’t finish the sentence. What’s he going to say? No word is good enough. And where they are right now doesn’t allow for him to say what he’s actually thinking.

Thankfully, Maya swoops in and unwittingly throws him a life preserver. She interrupts their conversation, claiming that she needs for Zay to come dance with her lest people get the impression she can’t hold her own on the dance floor. She pays Charlie the same compliment in that he looks nice, before reminding him to vote Zay and Maya for prom king and queen!

Charlie: Okay, if you keep saying that, someone is going to murder you by the end of the night.

Maya: Attempted assassinations are just part of the job description.

Farkle regroups with Isadora, finding her amidst the crowd. The two of them stand in silence for a moment, absorbing the chaotic scene around them. Farkle eyes Jack and Eric across the room, talking to one another and not paying any attention to them, then leans down to whisper in Isadora’s ear.

Farkle: You wanna get out of here?

Isadora looks around at her classmates and teachers before her gaze lands on Farkle. She smiles, somewhere between a smirk and genuinely sweet.

EXT. COURTHOUSE - NIGHT

Valerie emerges from the courthouse, seemingly in much better spirits than the last time she was there. She inhales a deep breath of fresh air, blithe smile on her face.

INT. HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT

Katy opens the door to her hotel room, surprised to find Val standing on the other side. She’s carrying a bottle of champagne and doesn’t wait for an invitation to march inside. She tells Katy to grab a couple of glasses, they are celebrating!

Katy, uncertainly: Good news, I’m guessing?

Valerie: You know, in this industry, they tell you the most important thing is to hang on. Hang on by the skin of your teeth, dig your fingernails in, and never let go. Who would’ve known that applied to the rest of this crazy, mixed up world too?

Valerie pops the champagne and pours a glass for her and Katy, raising her glass.

Valerie: I persevered, and only good things have come from it. [ sublime ] Isadora is going to be mine. We’re going to be a real family.

Katy happily cheers to that, both of them taking a drink from their glasses. They settle down on the couch in the suite, Valerie absolutely giddy with the news. She can’t wait to tell Isadora. Katy can imagine -- she knows how important it is, having time with her baby girl.

An idea seems to strike Valerie in that moment, eyes widening. She reaches out and touches Katy’s arm, excited.

Valerie: You’ll come stay with us.

Katy: Wh -- what?

Valerie: Yes, yes, you’ll come back to New York and you’ll stay with us! You, me, Maya, and Isadora. The four of us will live together, four rough and tough, talented women surviving the concrete jungle as a team.

Katy: Oh, I don’t… I couldn’t --

Valerie: Katy, you belong here. In this city, with your daughter and your dreams. If I have proven anything in this endeavor, it’s that it’s never too late to change course and achieve something you never thought possible. [ a beat ] You belong in Manhattan, with Maya. Talent like yours shouldn’t be wasted in the farmland of Vermont.

Katy processes that, taking another sip of her champagne. If a Hollywood starlet is telling her she’s meant to be here, then who is she to refuse it?

Katy: Alright. Alright, then!

Valerie claps excitedly, already abuzz with so many new ideas.

Valerie: Oh, this is so exciting. This is amazing! Isadora and Maya are going to be over the moon. This is a bigger deal than when my good friend and mentee Lizzo basically single-handedly saved the R&B industry.

She raises her glass again for another toast. Katy grants it, their glasses clinking together.

INT. PROM VENUE - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Dance Again” as performed by Selena Gomez || Instrumental

The lighting is more aesthetic and dimmer as the prom goes on, the junior class out grooving on the dance floor. We get shots of different combinations of them dancing -- Charlie is with Haley and Clarissa, Jade and Nigel are giggly as they get comfortable with one another, Dylan and Asher are upholding their reigning title as cutest couple.

In the midst of the festivities, Eric grows concerned as he realizes he can’t find Isadora. Farkle is nowhere to be found either -- and that’s because they’re not there. They’re long gone, someone having disappeared right under his nose.

Eric grabs Riley from the edge of the dance floor, asking if she’s seen either of them. She claims not since they first got here… is everything okay? Eric doesn’t respond, pushing through the crowd to try and get a better look.

He’s surrounded by teenagers, and yet none are the two he’s specifically supposed to be keeping an eye on. Just as he’s on the verge of panic, Jack comes to his side and asks what’s going on. What’s with the look on his face?

Eric, breathless: Isadora -- and Farkle -- they’re not -- I can’t find --

Jack: Okay, relax, alright?

Eric: Relax? I lost two children!

Jack: Okay, we’ll find them. Alright?

Jack drags Eric out of the center of the room, passing by HARPER BURGESS as they go. He tells her she’s in charge, guiding Eric out of the venue.

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - LIVING AREA - NIGHT

Lucas emerges from his room with a box, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and clearly down to business. He and GRACE FRIAR are operating with relative ease, indicating that their third household member isn’t home at present.

He places the box on the table in front of her, claiming that he’s gone through it and he needs her to go through it too so they can decide whether or not to donate it. Grace seems intrigued, but not opposed to the idea.

Grace: Spring cleaning?

Lucas: Something in my life might as well be in order.

She chuckles a bit at that, although the joke is admittedly somewhat dark. She starts going through the contents, hesitating before telling Lucas she’s sorry that he didn’t get to go to prom. He shrugs it off, but his aloof facade has worn thin over the week.

Grace gives him a warm smile, stating that he’ll be able to go next year.

Lucas: Yeah, let’s see if I make it through this year first.

Valid point. Lucas leaves her to keep going through the stuff, agreeing they should get rid of it either way before Kenneth gets back.

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - LUCAS’S ROOM - NIGHT

Lucas steps back into his closet of a bedroom, sighing at all the junk there still is to go through. He frowns when his phone vibrates in his pocket, growing even more confused when he sees who is calling. He answers.

Lucas: Hello?

Jack is on the other end of the line, already on the road with Eric.

Jack: What are you doing right now?

Lucas, flatly: Crystal meth.

Jack: Okay, you jest, but you’re really not in the position to be making those kind of jokes right now.

Lucas asks what’s going on, and Jack explains the situation. He asks if Lucas has seen or heard from Isadora, and he says no. When Jack requests that he go search that side of town, just drive around and take a look, Lucas seems skeptical.

Lucas: Aren’t you forgetting? My license is suspended.

Jack, unimpressed: Am I really supposed to believe that makes a difference?

Lucas: … fair enough. I’ll do whatever.

Jack assures him if he gets into any trouble, he’ll help him out of it. They just need to get a trace on them so Eric can breathe again. Lucas grabs his denim jacket, heading out.

INT. DINER - NIGHT

Isadora and Farkle, thankfully, are not engaged in anything remotely nefarious. They’re just making an evening out of it all their own, having escaped prom to seek refuge at a non-descript diner across town.

Farkle is way more enthused by the prospect than Isadora. He’s practically jittery, tapping his fingers on the table and unable to stop grinning. He claims this is the most fun, the most freedom, he’s had in months.

Isadora: Okay, calm down, edgelord. It’s not that deep.

Oh, but perhaps it is, Isadora. Farkle leans further into the theatricality, dramatically stating that he doesn’t think there’s ever been a night quite like this. Full of this… energy, and mystery, and potential. Can’t she feel it? In homage to the number that’s just about to come into play, Farkle sits up so that he’s sitting on the booth seat, rather than in it.

Isadora: Okay, what are you doing? Sit down.

Farkle: Can’t you just feel it? And how… how we start thinking --

Isadora: Start thinking what?

Farkle: How wonderful it all is.

Isadora: How wonderful what all is?

Farkle: Everything.

Isadora: Now you’re just talking nonsense. Did you take too much medication this morning? What are you on?

He, Isadora, is on life. The freedom of tonight, how good it feels to just be out and adventuring and… alive. In fact, he thinks, it might need some expressing…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “A Lovely Night” as performed by Cinderella Original Television Cast Recording || Performed by Farkle Minkus (feat. Isadora De La Cruz) [ starting at 4:20 ]

Farkle pushes his way out of the booth and starts sauntering through the diner, Isadora leaning out after him and whispering for him to come back. But he’s already on his way as the instrumental comes in, meaning there’s no hope. This singing train has left the station!

So he kicks off the first verse, singing the fantastical lyrics about how absolutely perfect the evening is. Somehow, it actually works, brightening up the drab, everyday diner and adding a splash of something special and unique.

It helps that Farkle is crazy and completely unapologetic as he takes over the space, the other patrons hesitant at first but then endeared by the performance. Farkle sings the first line about a “charming prince” to a gaggle of middle school girls, who all collectively lose their shit when he turns away from them. To them, for all intents and purposes, all suave in his prom suit and singing so elegantly, he is a prince charming.

Isadora might be starting to figure that out too, as she watches in disbelief while Farkle pulls other diners and workers into brief stints of choreography. By the time he makes it back over to her table in the second verse, he leans forward on the table and sings the lines “darling, I love you” while looking right into her eyes.

Part of the whole act? It’s impossible to tell.

Then he pulls her up from the booth, into dancing with him through the diner as the dance break commences. Although she’s hesitant at first, Isadora is more surprised by how not averse to the experience she is. Farkle is a good dancer, at least this kind of dancing, and it’s not long before she finds herself grinning and laughing along.

They spin their way towards the front, right out the doors…

EXT. DINER - NIGHT

And out into the city, the world aglow with nightlife and even more emphasized by the unreal quality of the dance. It feels very La La Land. They continue the pas de deux through to the end, Farkle picking up the lyrics again for the final rendition of the chorus.

They end it spinning in a circle in the parking lot, Isadora laughing and Farkle truly free as they round out the performance. If there’s going to be any true spectacle this prom season, then Icarus and the fallen Techie Queen dancing together in what may as well be a fantasy sure takes the cake.

INT. JACK’S CAR - MOVING - NIGHT

Eric is not feeling the fantasy, a nervous wreck as they drive through the streets looking for signs of Isadora and Farkle. He relays that she has not responded to any of his texts, and Jack states that’s it. He pulls over, allowing him to give his focus to Eric as he parks on the side of the road.

Jack takes Eric’s phone, out of his grasp.

Jack: Enough. You’re driving yourself crazy.

Eric: Yeah, you’re one to talk. [ trying to snatch it back ] Mister obsessive civil suit --

Jack: Oh, I’m not saying I’m innocent. But you have got to give yourself a break. It was their choice to sneak out and go wild, not yours. You can only do so much. If they choose to be idiotic, that’s on them. Regardless of how much we care.

Eric knows that Jack is speaking from experience. He sighs, slouching back in the passenger seat. Jack tries to comfort him, reminding him that Isadora and Farkle are two of the smartest students at AAA. They’re not going to get into trouble. Besides, if they are, then at least they have their best troublemaker on the case.

Jack: He’s like a heat-seeking missile. If there’s mischief afoot, trust me, I believe he’ll find it.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

Maybe so, Jack. Maybe so. Somehow, Lucas manages to catch up to Isadora and Farkle as they’re walking along the streets, slowing down in Grace’s car and coming up next to them. He honks, startling them both.

Lucas: Hey! Lunatics!

Isadora: Lucas? What the hell are you doing here?

Lucas: I could ask you the same question.

Farkle: Isn’t your license suspended?

Lucas holds up a finger to silence Farkle, not acknowledging his question. He keeps his focus on Isadora, who is similarly confused.

Isadora: Isn’t your license suspended?

Lucas: You tell me. You tell me what the hell you’re doing walking around like freaks and sending Eric so postal Jack had to send me out here risking future legal penalty to come find you.

Farkle: Hey, I mean, we snuck out of prom. [ holding his arms out ] Don’t I get a little credit for that, Lucas James Friar?

Lucas glares at him, unimpressed.

Lucas, sharply: Don’t talk to me like you know me.

Farkle raises his hands in surrender, turning away. Lucas turns his focus back to Isadora.

Lucas: Tell Eric where the hell you are and that you’re not dead. At least pay him that decency.

Isadora: Alright! Alright, I will. Sorry you got dragged into it.

Lucas: You’re so lucky I have no life.

Lucky, indeed… Lucas drives off, leaving the two of them alone again. Isadora shifts awkwardly, Farkle hesitating before giving her an unbothered smirk. Woo, reckless freedom!

INT. JACK’S CAR - NIGHT

Jack gets the text from Isadora on Eric’s phone. He smiles and then passes it back to him, telling him that now he can breathe again.

And so he can. Eric lets out a huge sigh of relief, falling back against the seat and rubbing his face. These kids, are they ever gonna let them live? Once he’s pulled himself off the ledge, Eric drops his hands and asks what they’re supposed to do now.

Now that they’re already out? Well… Jack shrugs.

Jack: You like bowling?

INT. PROM VENUE - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Magic” as performed by Gabrielle Aplin || Performed by Yindra Amino

Things slow down back at the prom, allowing the students to shift into a slow dance. Before Riley and Charlie can make any decisions, Zay swoops over to them to cut in. For a second it seems as though he might ask Charlie, in front of everyone… but he simply requests a dance with his favorite girl at AAA. Charlie relents without an argument, allowing him to steal Riley.

Riley: Sweet of you to say all that. And…

Zay: And I will give anything not to slow dance with Maya, yes.

Charlie shifts his sights to Haley, offering a hand to her. With their former conversation having cleared the air, the two of them are able to simply enjoy a dance together rather than twisting themselves up over what it might mean.

Yindra’s vocals truly help set the mood. The types of slow dancers are all across the spectrum. The soft familiarity of Dylan and Asher, whispering in each other’s ears and smiling and tilting their heads against one another; the timid beginnings of Nigel and Jade, more distance between them but equally as happy to be sharing the dance. Then there’s Maya, not bothering to slow dance at all and continuing her campaign amongst the other single prom-goers.

While Zay and Riley dance, they softly discuss how the evening is going. Riley subtly makes it clear that she is no way moving in on Charlie -- they should both be well aware how unlikely that would be. Zay holds no such suspicions. After all…

Zay: Think you and I are both here while our hearts are somewhere else.

Couldn’t have said it better, Isaiah. Tellingly, while Haley and Charlie are having a swell enough time dancing together, he cannot seem to keep his gaze from drifting towards Zay over her shoulder…

Yindra brings the number home, delivering yet another dazzling performance.

INT. BOWLING ALLEY - NIGHT

Pow! A bowling ball knocks over a volley of pins, shattering the dreamy melancholy of prom.

Jack and Eric have already played one game, crashed in one of the tables by the lanes and sharing some cheap bowling alley snacks. They’re also drinking and… okay, they might be a tad tipsy. They’re laughing as they chat about the evening, more relaxed than we’ve ever seen them. They could almost be teenagers themselves, just wasting away prom night at a bowling alley and blowing off expectations.

Eric complains about Isadora and Farkle’s actions, still not over the sleight. Like he gets it, they’re teenagers, but really? Jack chuckles, shrugging and claiming it’s just that kind of night. He can remember how he used to be -- Lucas really isn’t that far off from how he was at that age, although the kid is way more ballsy than he was.

Besides… there’s something about prom night, man. It makes people do crazy things.

Jack: I was never super into it, but… ha. I remember senior year, me and the guy I was going with --

Eric nearly chokes on his drink. Jack raises his eyebrows, handing him a napkin in concern.

Jack: You okay?

Eric: Yeah. Yeah, I just -- [ clearing his throat ] Guy? You went with a guy?

Jack: Oh, yeah. Administrators weren’t thrilled about it at the time though. [ off his stunned expression ] Oh, come on. You know I’m bisexual. We’ve totally discussed this.

Eric: Um. No. No we have not.

Jack: We definitely have.

Eric: Jack, I would not have forgotten that. Believe me.

Jack shrugs, smiling to himself and taking another drink. Eric just stares at him, trying to reconcile this new understanding he has of his friend and co-worker in his head. He starts to say something, then thinks better of it. Lost for words.

The music on the sound system of the bowling alley saves him from having to speak. As soon as the song starts playing, both of them react with joyful acknowledgement.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Bye Bye Bye” as performed by *NSYNC || Performed by Jack Hunter & Eric Matthews

At first the two of them just reminiscence, talking about how classic this song is. Speaking of hits of their youth, this was it in the college days. But as they casually start singing along in their seats, just like their students (and maybe thanks to the alcohol), the groove overtakes them.

Eric jumps to his feet first, crouching on his seat and launching into the second verse. Jack cracks up and claps, encouraging the dramatic performance. Eric manages to pull him into it as well, the two of them delivering the rendition with the same gusto as their overdramatic students.

INT. BYE BYE BYE DREAMSCAPE - NIGHT

In their folly, it would only be fair to give them the same imaginative scape as their students. Part of the performance is a fantasy tribute to the “Bye Bye Bye” music video, Jack and Eric dressed as if they’re back in the early 2000s and dancing around a tilting room.

INT. BOWLING ALLEY - NIGHT

We cut back and forth between that and them wreaking mild havoc in the bowling alley, and gosh dang is it a fun performance.

That’s one way to cut loose for a night. Let’s go principal and counselor!

EXT. HOTEL - NIGHT

Farkle walks Isadora to the front stoop of the fancy hotel Valerie is staying at, although she tells him that he didn’t have to. He claims as her date it was his duty -- even if their arrangement wasn’t exactly by choice.

Isadora: Well, impressively, I did actually have fun.

Farkle: Oh?

Isadora: Yes. I don’t expect the enchantment to last past midnight, but it was fun while it lasted. [ a beat ] I suppose I’m glad that I had to babysit tonight.

Farkle rolls his eyes. Isadora looks at him for a long moment, and then stands on her tip-toes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

He blinks, obviously not expecting it. After a moment he kind of smiles, caught between a confused frown and a pleasantly surprised smile. He looks at her, narrowing his eyes.

She gives him no explanation. She just tilts her head in a nod and marches through the revolving door, leaving him on the sidewalk. He glances up at the building, smile widening as he spins on his heel and saunters down the street.

INT. PROM VENUE - NIGHT

Clarissa and Haley are just wrapping up a performance, dismounting the stage as Harper heads up to the microphone. She warms up the crowd by asking how everyone is enjoying prom, which is met with resounding cheers. The time has come, she announces, for the crowning of their junior and senior prom court!

Amidst the cheers, Charlie shifts his focus to Riley next to him. She’s zoned out, glancing over her shoulder and not paying any attention. Looking for someone who isn’t going to be there, no matter how many times she looks.

After a moment, he elbows her lightly.

Charlie: You should go.

Riley: What? What do you mean?

Charlie: I appreciate what you did for me tonight. But we both know… you don’t want to be here. Not really. [ nodding towards the door ] So you should go. Don’t waste the rest of your night on me.

Riley examines him, thoughtful. Then she smiles, taking his arm and leaning forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. She squeezes his arm.

Riley: Never a waste.

Then she’s gone, weaving her way through the crowd and on a mission. Charlie watches her go, and when he turns back to the crowd and the excitement of the senior prom court being announced he suddenly feels very detached. Like he’s a fish out of water, as if he shouldn’t even be there at all.

It’s claustrophobic. Charlie starts to push his way through the crowd as well, searching for an exit. Needing to get out of there.

From where he’s waiting with Maya, Zay notices Charlie’s frantic escape. He frowns, hesitating for only a moment before darting out after him. Only Maya notices him go, looking after him in confusion.

Maya, in a whisper: Zay. Zay!

He’s already gone. And her attention is stolen anyway, as Harper gets a drum roll going for the announcement of junior prom queen and king. It goes, unsurprisingly… to Maya and Zay!

Only Zay is nowhere to be found. Lucky for him, Maya is an expert showman and covers as if it’s nothing. She hops up onto stage and happily accepts, claiming her king had to dip out for a moment and she’ll be accepting both on his behalf.

Once she’s found a way to balance both crowns on her little blonde head, she takes to the microphone and gives a small speech about what an honor it is to be selected. And in return, tonight, she’ll give them a prom slow dance really worth remembering. As the track cues up --

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “At Last” as performed by Beyoncé || Performed by Maya Hart

As obnoxious as she is, there is no doubt about the fact that Maya Hart can sing. Her vocals are damn good on the romantic classic, truly creating a perfect final slow dance for the evening. And she’s milking every second of it, glamorous as ever in her elegant gown and dual crown glory.

EXT. PARKING LOT - NIGHT

Charlie has made his way to a mostly vacant section of the parking lot, inhaling as much fresh air as he can. He holds his breath, then lets it out, fighting off whatever strange panic was prickling at him.

It doesn’t truly fade until Zay joins him, approaching casually and claiming that he’s missing Maya’s big performance. Isn’t that what he came all the way out to prom for anyway? Charlie can’t help but laugh, even though the vibe between them is still uncertain.

Charlie: Oh, naturally. Everything’s about Maya Hart, after all.

Zay: Absolutely everything, yeah.

Charlie: [ just looking at him ] … shouldn’t you be in there too, then? Far as I recall, you were her running mate.

Zay, with a shrug: I didn’t really care much about it.

Zay is stepping closer with every word that passes between them.

Charlie: … no?

Zay: Nah. I mean, can’t blame Maya though. She knows how to pick a winning candidate.

Charlie: Well, no arguments here. Sure you don’t want to get your crown, though? Think that would be a nice prize regardless.

They’re standing right in front of each other. Zay swallows, meeting his eyes.

Zay: I can think of something better.

Charlie lets that sink in, not sure how to respond. Knowing that they’re the way they are for a reason… but then there he is, right there in front of him…

Zay doesn’t ask for much. He gently takes Charlie’s hands, pulling him towards him and into a slow dance. There in the parking lot, alone, where nobody else is going to bother them.

Charlie is stiff at first, then slowly he relaxes into it. The familiarity, the ease, the way they seem to just naturally fit together... especially when it comes to dancing.

Still, something in his expression is conflicted. It’s obvious he loves it -- being so close to Zay, sharing anything with him regardless of what their status is -- but then that’s the problem, isn’t it? As long as Charlie is around him, he’s never going to be able to let it go. They’re going to keep drifting back to each other like this, and Zay is never going to be able to move forward.

Charlie realizes all of that… and yet.

For now, he chooses to live in the moment. He tilts his head against Zay’s shoulder and chooses to soak it up for all it’s worth, the dance and the closeness and the way he continues to choose him, even when he pushes him away.

Everything else, he can deal with another day.

INT. VALERIE’S HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

Isadora has changed back into more comfortable clothes, Valerie hanging her dress up so that it stays nice and unruffled. After all the hard work Stella McCartney put into it, she would hate for it to only survive one use!

Then Valerie settles on the bed with Isadora, telling her the good news. The paperwork went through -- they’re on their way. She just has some things she needs to go wrap up last minute in Los Angeles, and then they’re going to do it. They’re going to be a proper mother and daughter, she’ll move to the city, and everything is going to change. For the better, she’s sure.

Isadora is stunned just to hear it said -- she can’t begin to wrap her head around it in reality. But she manages action, leaning forward to initiate a hug with Valerie.

She hugs her back, tight, so excited about the next steps they’ll be taking together.

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - LUCAS’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Well, for only a night’s work, Lucas has made substantial progress on organizing his hell bedroom. You can actually see the floor now in most places, which is a step up. Maybe one solution to not having horrible mental health is to not feel like you’re living in an abandoned storage closet. Music is playing from his phone, shuffling the playlist Riley made him last year.

He finishes clearing the floor by the actual closet door, finding Riley’s gala shawl. He holds it in his hands, delicately, trying to decide what to do with it. It’s survived this long, in spite of all the times he’s thought about destroying it -- to get rid of it now would almost be a disservice.

He’s distracted from the decision for now, his phone buzzing. He settles onto his bed, putting the shawl to the side towards his pillow and opening the message.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Ebony Eyes” as performed by Jamie Scott || Instrumental

It’s from Dylan, a group picture of the techie crew in the midst of the glitz of prom. The caption underneath it is simple and to the point -- “We miss you!!!!!!!”

Lucas can’t help but smile, but after a moment it shifts to something more muted. The disappointment is clear on his face now, fully realizing how much he might be missing out on. How much he’s missed out on for the entire year, while he was busy fighting to survive his own personal hurricane. And there’s no way to get that back -- there’s no way to know if it’ll ever stop hurricaning, given how up in the air everything feels.

He’s distracted once again from his own internal musing, this time by creaking from outside his window. At first he glances towards his door, worried it might be someone coming home, but an additional creaking confirms it’s coming from outside. It’s coming from the fire escape.

Cautiously, Lucas gets to his feet, edging towards his window. He nearly jumps out of his skin when Riley appears from the ladder below, scrappily climbing her way up to his level.

EXT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - LUCAS’S FIRE ESCAPE - NIGHT

Lucas scrambles out the window to meet her, eyes wide in disbelief. She smiles at him as he emerges and she manages to pull herself fully onto the fire escape. There’s barely room for them both to stand, Lucas taking her arm and pulling her as far from the window -- and his apartment -- as possible.

Lucas: What the hell are you doing here?

Riley blinks at him, trying to catch up with her own choice of actions. She’s changed out of her fancy gown, hair and makeup still done up but having opted for a pair of high-waisted jeans and a thrifted tee. Better attire for building scaling, at least.

She explains that she couldn’t stop thinking about him and how he was missing out, so she decided to bring some of the fun to him. She shrugs off her backpack, unzipping it and showing off some of the snacks and movies and junk she threw in there along with her laptop. She didn’t have a lot of specific ideas, or anything, she just thought… who knows. She just knew she wanted to be here.

Lucas is in shock. He can’t believe any person would ditch prom without some other grand plan, and definitely not for him.

Lucas: That’s… that’s nice, but you shouldn’t have to do this. You should be at prom, having fun. Least of all worrying about me.

Riley, shaking her head: Wasn’t the same without you.

Oh. Well then. Riley glances towards his room, recognizing the music playing and smiling to herself. She comments that at least he has good tunes to get him through the night, and the slower, rustic song playing now is better than about half of the songs they played at the dance.

In fact… she did say she was going to bring the evening to him…

Dropping her backpack by the window, Riley cautiously takes Lucas’s hands. When he doesn’t complain, she gently guides him into a dance of their own -- a promenade on six square feet of metal with a shitty outdated iPhone speaker acting as the DJ.

Even still, it might be the most authentically romantic duet of the night. The music quality shifts and improves to be more encompassing as they settle into the dance, once again supplemented by that fantastical quality of the evening. Secluded enough for Lucas to ease into it, more intimate than a room full of their peers would allow.

After a minute or so, Riley adjusts their posture and presses their foreheads together. For how soft the moment is, the energy between them may as well be electric. They’re inches apart, one or two breaths and a bold choice away from another kiss. And maybe they could…

But not tonight. Not yet.

Riley shifts and rests her head against his shoulder, Lucas closing his eyes and tilting his head against hers.

For now, what they have in this moment together is enough.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

Crazy how in the aftermath of such a whimsical weekend, life is expected to proceed as normal. Jack is in good spirits as he jogs his way into the school building later than usual, pushing through the doors at the same time as Lucas. Lucas comments on his late showing.

Jack: You know, for all the times you’ve shown up to class tardy with no good excuse, I think you can zip it on this one.

Touch��. Jack does remember to thank Lucas for his help with Farkle and Isadora though, expressing that it was a big help. He asks how he spent the rest of his evening -- aside from the crystal meth.

Lucas, nonchalantly: Nothing much. And you?

Jack: Got kicked out of a bowling alley.

Lucas: … fun. Respect.

Jack grins, nodding him on his way. He makes his way back into the office…

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Where the real world is waiting for him. Jack is surprised by the gift-wrapped item on his desk -- until reality slams into him like a freight train. He drops his briefcase and jogs towards it, lifting the ribbon-bound local newspaper into his hands.

There it is. The Bradford case, front page Monday morning news. Likely paid a fortune to make it front page news, if he knows his adversaries.

It’s officially gone public. The fantasy is over. Another day has arrived, and now it’s time to deal with all of the challenges ahead.

Now, it’s time to take action. For better or for worse.

END OF EPISODE.

[sugamoonv]

Origins Pt.1

At Last

Summary: You learn how BTS came to be and what specifically they are.

Word Count: 4,485

Pairings: Jungkook x Jimin/ Jin x Yoongi/ Taehyung x Jimin/ Future Hoseok x Namjoon/ Future Jungkook x Jimin x Taehyung

A.N: This chapter is a flashback and does not include you/reader so it’s way different from the other chapters so far. Hopefully, this doesn't make my fic seem all over the place bc I promise it makes sense in my head but if it is confusing, let me know and I can go back and edit/organize things. I also split this because right now the chapter altogether is nearing 10k and I’ve already made you guys wait a while for this. But the second half of this chapter should be up in one to two days depending. Also also, I believe the tags got messed up in the last chapter so if I forgot to tag you or you want to be added, just let me know

Masterlist / Origins- Part 2

“Hyun-ah!”

The woman glanced away from the sparring trainees to the witch making her way to the training field. With a single command, the young women had all dropped their wooden weapons and stood in a line, backs straight behind Hyuna. As the witch was is proximate distance, they followed their admiral deeply bowing. With a nod of the witch’s head, Hyuna bounded off after her and the young women went back to their training.

The white colonial house was off limits to Mistress Jennilee’s army. Years of training and willpower aided Hyuna in resisting the temptation to look into the open windows to get a glance of the interior. They rounded the dirt path to the front of the house where a horse-drawn carriage was awaiting them. Hyuna stepped forward and opened the door for Jennilee to step into the carriage then moved back to the small bench attached to the back outside. The carriage jolted and off they were.

This house was built similarly to Jennilee’s but had a masculine touch to it. Hyuna had opened her mistress’s door before the servant made his way down the porch steps to the overshadowed driveway. The man gave a deep bow and turned to hold open the door for them.

The inside was light despite the dark wood that built the walls, floor, and staircase. The familiar aroma of herbs and spices filled Hyuna’s nose. It was similar to those that her mistress used and grew in her greenhouse for spells and potions. Hyuna kept her composure as an older man and his admiral came into view in their guest dining room.

Hyuna made sure to keep the way her heart skipped at Hyo-Jong’s appearance hidden. Jennilee had been working close to her father’s companion Byung-Wook which meant that she had been spending ample amounts of time with the admiral of the man’s army. Keeping their affair secret was proving to become more and more difficult as the time went on but they were determined to build a life together someday.

The same servant that had greeted Jennilee and Hyuna entered the room with a tray. He carefully set each small cup and poured the steaming tea in each for them then stepped to the side of the room, waiting like a statue if any of them may need him to fulfill a request.

“Thank you, Namjoon,” the older man muttered. He had his nose buried in the concoction of herbs, eyes closed. With a deep breath, he straightened in his seat, “Make sure to go help Hoseok bring the horses to the barn.”

The man shot off without a question and the occupants of the room were finally allowed to discuss recent events.

“There have been more invasions as of late. I have lost some of my men and Hyo-Jong is unable to train the new men quick enough to survive the next attack,” a deep frown marks Byung-Wook’s face.

“Do we know who keeps orchestrating these attacks?” Jennilee leaned in.

“That is what I have been trying to figure out, my dear girl. In the meantime, I am asking for your assistance. The attacks are more frequent and so I fear my servant’s well-being. As you can see, Namjoon and Hoseok have been very loyal to me and it would be an injustice for me to lose such good workers.”

Jennilee knitted her eyebrows but stayed silent.

“I have granted them the blessing of long life. So that if they were to be targeted, they may yet live. Already I had to have someone bury the body of some simpleton kitchen girl who had wandered too far out and was killed by this army.”

Jennilee nodded her head in understanding. “What is it you wish for me to do?”

Byung-Wook sighed and with a flick, the smoke stopped rising from the stone bowl. “Until I am able to end this warmongering traitor, I ask that we combine our soldiers and magic until this person is no longer a threat.”

Hyuna and Hyo-Jong glanced at each other, happiness glittered in their eyes despite the threat at the prospect of having a guise to spend more time with each other. They kept their backs straight and eyes forward as Jennilee and Byung-Wook pricked their fingers and closed the deal with blood magic. The walk to the sleeping bunker on the training grounds may have been a little fast paced and Hyo-Jong may have forced some of his men that night to remain silent with threats to their lives.

A piece of meat was thrust into the man’s face as he sat in the dirt. He looked up to another man with the plumpest lips he’s ever seen and warm brown eyes that gave his a run for their money. The man gave a kind smile and nudged the food further into the sitting man’s face. They both ignored the mist dampening their hair, warning of later rain, and the man took the piece of meat from the other’s hand cautiously. Once the man went back inside, the man sitting greedily ate the meat; it was cold and had some burn marks but it was better than an empty stomach.

Rain was pouring down in buckets, the loud thumps of rain against the inn’s roof and the mud drowned out any other noise. The man was still sitting in the same spot from before, only now he was shivering under some poor attempt at a shelter and was covered in the mud underneath him. Too weak to move, he had resigned to his fate.

The man from the inn rushed out the door, a leather jacket he had traded for earlier in the week acting as an umbrella. He stopped himself a few paces from the door; he wasn’t sure what he had seen in his peripheral vision. But turning, he confirmed his thoughts as he looked down on the poor man that had taken food from him earlier. Sympathy quickly flooded his chest and guided his actions.

The man put on the leather jacket, ignoring how his hair became soaking wet, and moved over to the slumped man. He inserted his hands under the man’s arms and dragged him to the door, working extra hard to avoid his feet sinking into the slick mud. He dropped the man onto the rough wooden floors and stirred the fire to re-add heat to the room. He ran up to one of the rooms of the inn he knew would be unoccupied and yanked a blanket from the bed. Some customers at the bar gave the owner’s son strange looks as he ran to the back, arms full.

He carefully removed the soiled clothes from the unconscious man’s body and immediately covered him with the blanket. He hung the clothes near the fire so that they may dry and then started preparing food to replenish the man. Once the plate was full, he kneeled down and shook the man awake.

“What is your name?”. The man had moved into a sitting position and was shoveling the second plate of food into his mouth. The blanket on him had fallen to his waist which exposed the man’s pale skin and slim figure. Luckily he had stopped shaking and his hair had dried somewhat.

“Mn Ygi”

“What?”

The man swallowed the mouthful, “Min Yoongi.”

“Oh,” his mouth formed a perfect ‘o’. “I am Kim SeokJin. My father owns this inn.” Jin admired Yoongi’s thinner lips, squinted eyes, and squishy nose, “If you want, I can convince my father to let you stay here so long as you work.”

“Jimin, you’re going to get us in trouble,” the man weakly protested as Jimin worked kisses up his neck. They had snuck from their training session in order to take advantage of the quiet bunker, something that rarely occurred with the all-male army.

“Jungkook! Jimin!”

They shot to opposite sides of Jungkook’s cot as their lieutenant walked in.

“Of course I would find you two in here.”

“Sorry, Taehyung,” Jimin sheepishly looked down. Jungkook was not used to Jimin being so informal with someone of a higher rank and was afraid to refer to the man the same as his lover, but it seemed the man didn’t mind so much as he broke into a wide grin.

“Get back outside before Jin-ki sees that you’re gone. Then you’ll really be in trouble.”

Taehyung brought his hand up as if he were about to brush it against Jungkook’s cheek, but quickly dropped it and turned and lead the men out of the room. The two forces had joined a few weeks ago but Jungkook and Jimin still had yet to get used to the sudden presence of women amongst their ranks. The women joining them meant they also had more eyes to watch out for even though they slept in different bunks. Some years of sneaking had taught the two men the signs of secrecy but they decided that not exposing the admirals would be for the best, considering that tensions were also high between the two armies.

Most of the men and them themselves refused to spar with the women, spreading the belief that they were weaker than them. Disputes over how to train the younger men and women also rose during their weeks together. Surprisingly, the women were harsher during their training which either took the men off guard or spurred them to act more aggressive. This change in behavior, unfortunately, trickled down to Jungkook and Jimin.

Jimin could hold his own during a fight. He had proven that many times with his training and the small battles defending his master’s land. He was more flexible than the average soldier and so he was graceful during his sessions, and quick. But this opponent was being noticeably aggressive towards Jimin. Jungkook flinched with every hit that landed upon Jimin’s body. He would have to make sure to be extra careful with the man later in the night.

Jimin cut through the air and he had landed a few severe blows on his opponent. But where his opponent lacked in agility, he made up in brute strength. Jimin had poorly timed a kick to the man’s torso and was subsequently dragged to the ground when the man caught his foot. He used the position to his advantage and quickly moved over Jimin and grabbed him by the neck. Jimin wrapped his body around the man’s abnormally large arm in an attempt to free himself from the stone cold grip. The man foiled Jimin’s counter maneuver by lifting his arm and slamming it, and Jimin, to the ground beneath. A sickening crack was heard as Jimin’s grip went slack with breathlessness, yet the man didn’t cease.

As the man brought a fist into the air, Jungkook rushed the man and tackled him off of Jimin. They rolled on the ground, trying to gain the upper hand and as the man did, Jungkook quickly hit the man in the throat and turned them so that he was straddling the man. His fists quickly made time marring the man’s face til soon blood was mixing in with the dirt. The man had landed a few blows against Jungkook’s ribs but was futile as Jungkook saw red.

Arms were pulling Jungkook from the now badly beaten man. His first instinct was to rush to Jimin but the disproving looks from his admiral, captain, and lieutenant halted him. Jimin was now standing with the help of another woman and was giving Jungkook a look of sadness and gratitude. The man was slowly getting to his feet behind Jungkook with the help of a few others that banded with him.

“You best sleep with one eye open. May you suffer the harshest punishment for your transgressions against the natural order.”

The man sneers and spits blood at Jungkook’s feet, who is too frozen to the spot.

“Take care of this.” Hyo-Jong gruffly ordered.

“If I may, Admiral. It may be best for me to administer the punishment as you and Captain Jin-ki are preoccupied,” Taehyung quickly interjected with a bow. Hyo-Jong and Jin-ki regarded their inferior before Hyo-Jong nodded and walked away. Taehyung silently breathed out a sigh of relief. Taehyung excused the three men to clean themselves, promising publicly that he would deal with them once the day’s events had come to an end.

Seokjin nervously stood to the side as his father eyed Yoongi up and down. Yoongi had tried to look as impassive as possible during the inspection from the older man, but he could occasionally feel his lip twitch and the urge to rub his ears. Yoongi’s dry clothes were stiff and no doubtedly smelled. Their declaration of his status was something he feared would ruin this opportunity at a warm bed and sustainable food.

“What is it you are able to do, boy?”

Yoongi heard Seokjin lowly slip out his name, to submissive to actually call out his father but refusing for Yoongi to be referred to as ‘boy’.

“Anything you require,” Yoongi kept his voice low. “But I am especially gifted at writing poetry.”

Interest lights in the man’s eyes, “Music and poetry are very similar to one another, yes, boy?” Yoongi unsurely nods in agreement. “Do you have any skill with instruments?”

“I play the piano.”

“Excellent,” Seokjin’s father loudly clapped his hands, startling Yoongi, “You shall work in the kitchen as payment to board and during your spare time you will teach my son how to play the piano.”

“Father, that’s not nece-”

“Deal.”

“All I am saying is that she needs to mind her own.”

Namjoon watched Hoseok move about the barn with angry gestures. Since being Byung-Wook’s favored servants, they had intuitively turned to each other as confidants. With the recent changes over the weeks, they sought each other out more and more.

“This witch takes far too many trips for my horses to properly rest. And she doesn’t tell Master Byung-Wook where she is leaving, so for all we know, she could be conspiring with this traitor.”

“Taehyung tells me that since Hyun-ah has joined them there are fewer attacks, Hyo-Jong hasn’t lost as many men,” Namjoon informed while focused on his nails.

“As if Taehyung has much to tell. He’s too infatuated with those two soldiers,” Hoseok muttered. “His stupidity will only end in banishment and loneliness. He’s hopeless.”

“Well, I hope he’s certainly not as hopeless as you hold him to be because he is the only person in Byung-Wook’s ranks that we can trust so far.” Namjoon frowned at Hoseok.

“I don’t even understand why you went to him. I could do the same as him with less suspicion.” Jealousy coated Hoseok’s voice.

“This was before Byung-Wook granted us abilities. And if you were to do anything with your ability, you know Byung-Wook would know.” Namjoon stepped close to Hoseok’s face, “I have managed to hide that from him this long and I’m not about to risk it now because you have some petty quarrel with a man you don’t even know. Remember, you came to me. If you want the freedom you say you so crave then listen to me and don’t do anything until you have my permission. Understood?”

Hoseok stared past Namjoon with his jaw clenched.

Namjoon patted the man’s shoulder, “Good.”

“Lieutenant Kim,”

Taehyung was supervising Jungkook and Jimin as they cleaned the bunk and turned to see Byung-Wook’s servant at the doorway. Jimin watched with curious eyes as they bowed to each other and walked outside together.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Jimin whispered.

Jungkook grunted and sat back on his thighs, “I don’t know. The Master probably sent him to talk to Lieutenant Kim.”

“Yeah, but they’ve been speaking to each other a lot,” Jimin drew his shoulders in. The insecurity in his voice left an unsettling feeling in Jungkook’s stomach.

“Why does it matter?” Jimin sheepishly looked away from Jungkook to focus on making one of the beds. Jungkook stood and made his way behind Jimin. “Jimin. Why do you care?”

“Something just feels off. There’s something going on with Taehyung. I know you’ve noticed it too.”

“It’s none of our business. It most likely has to do with The Master. It’s not our place to question what they do.”

Before Jimin could get another word out, Taehyung re-entered the bunk. Upon seeing the men’s inactivity, he gave a dissatisfied frown but said nothing. The faraway look in his eyes worried Jimin though he did nothing as Jungkook nudged him to begin cleaning again.

The sun had long set and Jungkook and Jimin were both sore, jointly from the multiple bruises and their punishment. Sweaty men began filling into the bunk, plenty happy with full stomachs that their spaces had been organized and cleaned. Their beds seemed extra soft with the pressed blankets, tucked corners, and fluffed pillows. Jungkook doled out dirty looks as he watched the men ungratefully enjoy the fruits of his labor, even if it had been a punishment.

Hyuna looked down at the beaten man, sweat dripping down the sides of her face and hair sticking to the back of her neck. Hyo-Jong’s footsteps sounded upon the soft earth as he jogged to the two. Chips of armor and the man’s weapons laid a few feet away from him. Hyuna saw the way he glanced at the weapon and hit him once more, completely knocking him to the ground. Hyo-Jong sent a wary glance at Hyuna and the man then signaled for the few soldiers patrolling with him to retrieve the man. They lifted the struggling man from beneath his arms and disappeared past the forest line to the training field.

“Are you hurt?”

Hyuna shook her head as she relaxed into Hyo-Jong’s concerned hold. He brushed a few strands that stuck to her forehead back and pressed his nose onto the top of her head. They quickly separated as some of Hyuna’s soldiers ran to them, nearly as worn as their admiral.

“Han-Bi, tell that Master Byung-Wook that we have captured one of the traitor’s men.”

“You want to spread your fingers more.”

Yoongi guided Jin’s hand to properly rest upon the piano keys. The bench assigned to the piano was small, so the two men had been forced to squeeze together. Yoongi had tried to teach Jin standing, but Jin felt paranoid with Yoongi peering over his shoulder and Yoongi grew annoyed at the mistakes he wasn’t able to adequately correct with the distance.

A broken melody composed of hesitant notes filled the room. Yoongi would flinch every time a harsh note reverberated in his ears and would replay the song for Jin. Luckily, Jin was talented with music and so he had picked up the skill fairly easily. Though Jin still had much to learn.

After spending half the day practicing the one song, Jin picked up the tempo and was soon playing to the correct pace. Yoongi closed his eyes and focused on the music coming from the piano and the soft, concentrated breathing coming from the man close beside him. It took him a few seconds to realize that Jin had stopped playing and opened his eyes to come face to face with the man. Yoongi’s eyes searched the chocolate brown eyes melting in the sun’s light, wanting to experience the sweetness.

He cleared his throat and slid an inch off the bench, “Why did you stop playing?”

Jin playfully shrugged his shoulders. His eyes flickered to Yoongi and the corners of his lips lifted and he tilted his head, “Maybe I want to hear you play.”

The tips of Yoongi’s ears turned a bright red and his hand darted towards them before he awkwardly laughed. Jin held in a laugh as he watched Yoongi slide another inch off the bench.

“You should continue playing, you’re getting a lot better.”

“I’ve been practicing for too long. I want to do something different.” Yoongi tongued the corner of his lips, torn between following Jin’s father’s orders and making Jin practice more or pleasing the man and allowing him to practice free will. Jin decided for him and sprung up, dragging Yoongi with him.

The kitchen was busy with orders as men bustled in and out of the keep of the motel. Yoongi got a large whiff of stew as a waiter passed by him. By now, Yoongi had become familiar with the layout of the kitchen in which he was saved in. The beaten wooden floors, the stone fire, and the large wash bin and the stack of dishes that remained no matter how many hours he spent laboring over them.

“My father doesn’t know but I enjoy cooking. He believes that as his son, I have no need to learn to cook. He only let me learn piano after seeing a nobleman’s son play.”

Jin smiled but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Is piano something you enjoy?”

Jin shakes his head, “I once saw a man in the street playing guitar. I would have much preferred to learn that but my father saw the piano as more elegant.”

Yoongi listened intently and watched as Jin stole a bowl of stew from a tray passing by and sat at the table meant for the cooks to take their meals. He spared a glance at the man that angrily huffed at Jin and yelled for a new dish. As Yoongi on the opposite side of the table, Jin pushed the bowl forward and held out a spoon. Yoongi took Jin up on his offer and began eating with him.

“Mmmm,” Jin closed his eyes in contentment, “I could make better.”

“I trust you,” Yoongi eyes squinted in adoration. Jin responded with an affectionate gaze and reached over to rub Yoongi’s hand, letting his fingers linger a second too long for it to be considered a gesture of simple thanks.

Yoongi kept his hood up as he slinked through the town market. The smell of fried foods and sight of fruit stands made his stomach growl, but he was here for one thing and refused to be distracted. He finally found the stand he was looking for. A crowd of people concealed the actual stand but the music that drifted through the air indicated he was in the right place.

He elbowed past some people to the front of the crowd. In the center a man sat on the ground, guitar situated in his lap. Yoongi wasn’t sure if it was the same man that Jin had told him about. He had a feeling that it was as the man had gray running through his hair. The man’s fingers moved swiftly upon the strings, almost becoming a blur. The melody produced matched the man’s fingers, quick and smooth.

Yoongi waited until the man stopped playing and the people dispersed to other stands. The man didn’t notice Yoongi. He had his back turned towards him as he put away the guitar. Yoongi cleared his throat, demanding the man’s attention.

“I’m here to trade for a guitar.”

The man quirked an eyebrow at Yoongi. “And what would you trade? From the looks of it, you would be better off trading the little you probably have for a good size meal.”

Yoongi sucked in his lips in annoyance, “I can offer a few nights stay at the Ossu Sieromushi.”

The man considered Yoongi’s words for a few moments before shaking his head. “Good food but I have no need.”

Yoongi took a few steps closer to the man. “Please. This is important. I just want a guitar, I’ll even take one that’s broken.”

“Listen, boy, you have nothing to offer me. Get lost.”

Yoongi backed into the street and disparagingly watched as the man finished packing his stand and left. He rubbed his hair beneath his hood and began the trek back to the inn when suddenly a hand grabbed onto his shoulder. He whipped around to a man much taller than him with a powerful aura.

“May I help you?”

“I overheard that you were looking for a guitar.” Yoongi squinted at the man. “My name is Kim Namjoon and I am a servant for Lord Byung-Wook. I believe he has an old guitar that I could acquire for you. All I ask is for a few minutes of your time to speak.”

Yoongi’s eyes lit up at the mention of the guitar. Namjoon shifted his hand to the space between Yoongi’s shoulder blades and together they walked into a shaded alleyway. Yoongi looked behind him, scared that people would be judging them and scared for himself. He had no idea what this man was capable of or if he was being honest about his identity in the first place.

Namjoon used the brick wall of the building behind him as support and looked Yoongi up and down. The energy that Namjoon had sensed from the man greatly mismatched his stature. The power he felt, he assumed that he would have found a larger man.

“Do you know of the Amarbhagat?” Namjoon guesses from the confused look Yoongi gives that he does not. “Not many commoners do. Hundreds of years before us, as magic users became more commonplace. After a few began feuding, they started investing in protection for themselves. Spells worked but they were tiresome and when they grew more powerful in society, it was more practical to have others do it for you. The thing is, is that humans are disposable and no amount of manpower, weapons, and preparation can take on a powerful witch. So witch’s developed a spell that allowed them to grant immortality to others. The catch is that anyone that is granted immortality can pass it on to others as they have access to that magic. Once servants and soldiers started passing on this immortality to their loved ones and friends, it threatened the witch’s standing and they grew strict.”

Namjoon paused to allow Yoongi some time to retain the information just told. Yoongi hummed to indicate for Namjoon to continue.

“Nowadays, immortality is usually only granted to those that make up the army of the Lord or Lady they are serving. Together, they make up the Amarbhagat.”

“What does this information have to do with anything?” Yoongi glared at the man, sure he was just wasting his time

“Why is this guitar so important to you?”

Yoongi blushed but quickly hid it with an even sharper glare. “Don’t change the subject. Why tell me about the Amarbhat?” Namjoon smirked, not surprised by Yoongi’s cleverness.

“Amarbhagat. And I am telling you because I am one,” Yoongi’s face transforms into one of shock, “The main thing I wished to do is offer you a deal. One that we would both benefit from.”

Tagged: @detectivebourbon @eshika0102 @xsmilebitesx @perfectlyfangirling @eilowyneleyne @itsapurrfectstorm @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers @suck-my-bts @rosymccheese @craftypersoncheesecake @ficcion-escrita @twilight-loveer @perfectlyfangirling @respectfully-yours-emily @delightfulyoongi @disfoqia @deathsasshole @mint-myg-yoongi @vljvanessa @young-yellkie @jungkookssistan @sincemalik @milady-mira @stardustjjk @recoveringflowerchild @xandraray22 @shelley-hennig14 @justapotatonow @riyahrocks @notalentforsubservience

[gerbiloftriumph]

Captive Crown

(also on ao3)

Someone wanted the newly crowned King of Daventry and all his friends dead. Someone got close, once.

(warnings for the whole thing: kidnapping, bruising, starvation, nightmares, healthy dosage of angsty musing, sicfic, story-coherent vehicle for all my favorite ch2 headcanons)

~*~*~

3/7

(1: to steal)(2: to hide)(3: to seek)(4: to find)(5: to break)(6: to mend)(7: to heal, and to end)

~*~*~

“Your Majesty, we’re sorry about earlier,” Royal Guard Number Three called through the door. The others stood clustered behind her, looking apprehensive.

(“He’s going to throw something at us.”)

(“He isn’t.”)

(“You didn’t see the look on his face. He absolutely will.”)

“We brought hot chocolate,” she persisted, knocking again. “After walking in the rain, we thought you might need to warm up.” Still no response. “King Graham, are you in there?” She shifted the tray from one hand to both hands and bumped the door open with her hip. Everyone huddled around her, peeking through the gap.

“He’s not there,” No4 sighed, relieved.

No3 pushed the door open all the way. The throne room was littered with socks and acorns, as they’d left it. “But it’s getting dark.” She thought about the monsoon gray sky and amended, “Late. Shouldn’t he be back by now?”

“Maybe he’s staying in town. He used to do that a lot.”

“Yes, but that was before we crowned him.” No2 hesitated. “Is that allowed now?”

“It’s not like he’s a proper king, is it? I expect he can do whatever he likes.” No1 made some dismissive hand flapping gesture. “I suppose we should get this cleaned up or something. Hardly looks civilized. Doesn’t keep a very neat throne room, does he.”

“Does that mean we can drink the hot cocoa?” No2 asked hopefully.

No3 tapped her finger against the tray, not sure at all if she should—or even could—make a suggestion. She was the newest rank and file, just hired by the king. But he’d given her a job when she’d desperately wanted it, and…well, she felt wrong about all this. Like an unpleasant itch beneath her armor. Graham had looked so miserable when he’d left (fair enough—she’d heard the shouting even from the entrance hall), and he hadn’t come back hours later, and….

“What if I go to town and make sure?” she offered.

“Sure about what?” No1 said distractedly. He picked up one of the abandoned socks, but he didn’t seem to know what to do with it once he had it, and he let it drop again.

“That he’s safe?”

“Safe? We’re in Daventry. It’s no Serenia or Llewdor. We haven’t had anything worse than a wedzel around for years.”

And that dragon that killed that knight, she thought, a touch rebelliously. And leprechauns and goblins and giants and…oh, never mind. “Still, sir, I think a spot of rust on the helmet will do me good. Get some practice marching in.”

“Ah, go on then. We’ll keep some cocoa warm for you.” He took the tray from her and wandered back toward the kitchens, trying to bat No2 away with his elbow without spilling anything. “Later, later. Let’s reheat it and get the rest of the lads in, make it fair.”

She looked at the empty room, remembered how distressed Graham had seemed when he pushed off into the rain alone, and she spun on her heel. She’d go to town. He’d mentioned Wente earlier; may as well start there.

No3 meandered along the road, that eternal Daventry monsoon rain drumming on her umbrella. She practiced what she might say to him, what would convince him to come back, to not give up on them, on her and her beginning career. If she could get Wente or Amaya or Muriel (not Chester) on her side, surely combined they could whip up an argument as solid as Wente’s brownie frosting.

But when she got to the town, and when she found half a broken flute, and empty houses, and a ton of churned mud, and shards of glass and splintered wood, and broken pies and cracked alchemical vials, and a complete lack of any king or villagers whatsoever, she flung the umbrella into the shattered bakery, sprinted back to the castle, and managed to completely ruin hot cocoa night in three words: “King Graham’s gone!”

*~*~*

Someone tapped on his hand, gently. “No, go ‘way,” he mumbled. “Ten more minutes.” The tapping persisted. He withdrew his hand and pulled it close under the blankets. “Five minutes,” he said, keeping his eyes firmly shut, though to his disappointment he could feel himself waking up. Something licked his nose, and he sat bolt upright. “Triumph?”

The glowing salamander on his pillow flicked its tail. Graham gaped at it for a split second before the pain hit in a horrible wave and he huddled forward, clutching the back of his head. The blanket (no, his own cloak) bunched around his waist. His probing fingers found the aching lump on the back of his head from where he’d hit it on the cobblestones yesterday. Yesterday?

Oh. Right.

He was sure he’d dreamed it. Prayed he’d dreamed it. But in the cold light of salamander glow it was undeniable. No point in pinching himself to make sure—everything already hurt.

Graham shifted, leaning against the stone wall behind him. It felt like he’d rolled down the side of a mountain (ha, again). His leg was uncomfortably stiff. Cautiously, he rolled back the fabric and found a horrible bruise on his hip, mottled purple and black and ugly in the gloomy light. The slightest pressure made him hiss. Sore, finger shaped bruises also marked the back of his legs and calves and even his arms from where they—the goblins, right—had gripped and pulled and thrown him into this cell. Stars.

Gingerly, he eased himself off the mattress, putting weight on his good leg before equalizing himself. His stiff leg shuddered, and he staggered forward, catching himself on the stone block that suited for a table. Newton chirped at him, and Graham breathed deep before pushing himself upright. Every bone seemed to creak and groan and pop as he did.  

For the next undeterminable amount of time, he limped in agonized circles around the room, half hunched over for most of it, stretching out aching muscles and trying to focus, to think. His steps sloshed—much of the water from the night (or whenever—how much time had passed, anyway?) had drained away, but the lower stones puddled. He guessed it was rainwater collecting in the caves. As long as it was raining on the surface, his little prison would be damp.

The worst part about this, he decided (other than the sharp bite in his hip every few steps), was the not knowing. Not knowing why they’d taken him, and not knowing what they wanted to do with him. The goblins’ faces (masks?) revealed nothing. He couldn’t ask without an interpreter—not that there was anyone around to ask, anyway.

It wasn’t like the kingdom had enemies, at least none that he could definitively name. Or, to be fairer, there were some, but he wasn’t certain who, or if there even was a who, to blame, and guesses were just guesses. But it felt so…drastic. Unnecessary.

Sure, he’d only just been crowned and perhaps someone was upset about not being chosen (fair enough; who crowns a royal knight with no proper training or, truly, all that much warning), but so what? He upheld an open court. They could have walked in and laid out their frustration, maybe even made a claim to the crown. Stars, after that debacle in the castle earlier, he might have simply given them the throne had they asked politely enough.

It could be a ransom demand, he supposed, but the kingdom was dealing with rotten budget problems brought on by Edward’s illnesses and badly implemented addendums in his final months, and neither Graham nor any of the guards had sorted out how the unlimited treasure chest worked yet. (If, indeed, it even was unlimited. It had the mark of the Merchant of Miracles printed on the bottom, so, not much hope there.) If someone planned on getting a ransom for him, they were going to be sorely disappointed.

Hopefully send-him-home disappointed, not cut-his-throat disappointed.

Oh, shining stars. He ran his hands through his tangled hair.

To avoid losing Graham to the knife, the royal guards would have to strike up deals with the neighboring kingdoms. They’d have to relinquish the lavender fields to the highest bidder. Trade their goats and livestock. Open the King’s Forests for hunting. Daventry would be ruined economically and politically, just to scrape together a pitiful ransom for their stupid king.

It might just be best to forget the ransom, crown someone new (a King’s Tournament instead of a Knight’s Tournament? A tournament of speed could be the first to sign a ream of addendums) and forget Graham had ever existed. They hadn’t even had more than two sessions for the new royal portrait to be added to the Hall of Faces. It would be easy enough to hide him, a pathetic little footnote in the history books.

Which would make for a happy, thriving Daventry, but a not so happy pack of goblins, and, consequently, a less than thriving Graham.

He pressed his face against the barred window. No one was around. He looked down, trying to see what sort of lock held the door—a very large padlock, by the look of it. He wriggled a hand through the bars and twisted his arm until he had it in his grasp. Sturdy. Heavy. He tried to angle it to see the lock itself, but he couldn’t quite manage from here.

With a flash of delighted inspiration, he unpinned his brooch from his cowl. He flipped it over and studied it, but he felt his burst of excitement drain away again. The metal pin was far too small for the weighty lock. He’d just break the brooch off, and then the goblins would have to break down the door to let him out or just not bother to open it again.

He wandered toward the cracked mirror, to reaffix the pin straight against his chest, and stared at himself. With the dark rings under his eyes, he looked like he’d been punched in the face. Twice.

“Ahh.” Graham sank onto the mattress, the only properly dry thing in the whole cell, and wrapped his cloak tight. An opportunity would come, surely. He just had to be ready for it. Whenever it came. Whatever it looked like. He curled on his side, favoring his bruised hip, and tried to think of sunshine.

*~*~*

Graham fell into a sort of routine as time crept past on soft salamander feet. He couldn’t know how much time was passing, and he was reluctant to make a guess at it for fear of making the situation feel all the more helpless. Hopeless.

He took to reciting what addenda he could remember—he thought he might be mixing up some of the numbers (was it Addendum 78934 that was about pasta in royal guard diets, or 86752, or maybe he’d forgotten a decimal point), but he knew he had the content right. He’d been memorizing facts and sheets for weeks. It helped keep him grounded after he’d counted all Newton’s spots and every facet of every rock dozens of times over.

Every now and again, when his nauseous hunger felt overwhelming, he stumbled toward the pipes and gathered up a small amount of porridge. Stringy to the eyes, slimy to the touch, and rubbery to the teeth, he bit back on his gag reflex and swallowed handfuls of it as quick as he could with his eyes screwed shut. It didn’t seem to have much of a smell to it, but that was most likely because he’d gotten used to the wet-dog reek of his damp, lizard-infested cell.

But one day (the third day, had he been able to accurately number the hours—a proper fairy tale amount of time, which might have given him a hint as to who had done this), the horrible porridge stopped coming. Nothing oozed out of the pipes at all. Graham almost laughed. No more porridge! Ha! No more…oh, hang on. No more porridge means no more food means…his stomach snarled. Or was it the goblins outside his door snarling at each other?

Then, because the goblins didn’t want to do their own chores, he was freed. Or, at least, he wasn’t locked in his cell constantly. Every evening they unlocked the door and let him out to do their literal dirty work. This first night, they thrust an oily rag in his face and ordered him to clear spiderwebs. Well, fine. Chores would break up the monotony of his own thoughts, and anyway, it was a great excuse to explore every corner of this prison without getting tackled.

But his cleaning came to a screeching halt when he discovered, to his utter horror, that he wasn’t alone. All his friends were trapped in the shadows and the slime, too. Wente and his new wife, Bramble. Amaya. The Hobblepots. The Merchant. Even, bafflingly, Mr. Fancycakes. They were starving, bedraggled, as pathetic as he was. Worse than he was. And they were depending on him for survival.

He straightened his crown.

It’s a puzzle, Graham. Find a way out.

[sian265]

Legio autem Arcarius Legion of Archer Chapter 11

Legio autem Arcarius

Legion of Archer

Chapter 11

  Alec grumbled and tightened his hold on the warmth at his side. The light and shaking of his shoulder were persistent however and he reluctantly opened one eye. The grinning face of his second had him frowning. Andrew gave a soft laugh and cleared his throat. “Commander, good morning. I thought you and Magnus might want to get up before any of the others arrive for breakfast.”

 Get up? Magnus? Alec tried to gather his sleepy thoughts. He felt a faint tickle across his chin and looked down into black hair. Alec’s eyes widened and his face flushed. Laying sprawled out almost completely atop Alec was a sleeping Magnus. His eyes shot back up to meet Underhill’s. “Not one word,” Alec warned the smirking man. “Give us a minute,” he ordered.

 “Yes Sir,” Andrew replied, smirk still firmly in place before he turned and gave them some privacy.

 Alec looked back down at the man in his arms. After their dinner the night before they had adjourned to a chaise in a corner of the balcony, Magnus once again providing them with a privacy bubble of their very own. Soft low conversation had turned into soft kisses. Alec didn’t know how long they had stayed pressed tightly together and kissed, but the last thing he remembered was stretching out with Magnus, lips still pressed together. Alec had no frame of reference, but he thinks what they enjoyed was called a make-out session. That was one mundane custom, Alec decided he liked, a lot.

Hating to do it, Alec ran a gentle hand over Magnus’ back. “Magnus,” he whispered. “Time to wake up.”

 There was a protesting moan from the sleeping Warlock before a whispered, “Casanova…”

 In retaliation, because Alec could see the grin across Magnus’ lips, he applied both hands to Magnus’ sides and began tickling the now laughing High Warlock. “Take it back,” Alec ordered, not letting up on his assault on Magnus’s sides.

 Magnus burst out into laughter and began squirming so much Alec had to halt his tickle attack and catch Magnus before he rolled right off the chaise. “Uncle!” Magnus cried out, eyes now fully awake and brimming with joy.

 Alec could not resist such a face and bent down to quickly capture those lips stretched wide with happiness, aimed directly at Alec. “Hum…” he hummed breaking their kiss to draw back just enough to press his forehead against Magnus’. “Good morning.”

 “A fine morning indeed, Alexander. I take it we have been seen?” Magnus asked.

 “Yep, and I will probably never live it down, my second looked entirely too happy at finding his Commander in such a position.” Alec reluctantly released his hold around Magnus and sat up. Rubbing a hand over his eyes, he cleared away any remaining sleep. “As much as I would like for us to spend our day like this, we do have a party to get ready for.”

Alec was unaware of the extremely admiring gaze that followed his as he stood and stretched his arms high above him. The tantalizing glimpse of bare skin where his shirt rode up, was not going unnoticed by Magnus. With a deep sigh of regret, Magnus rose as well. Working out his own kinks after spending a night on the chaise lounge, he followed Alec inside. “Perhaps your grinning second will do something you can hold over him on this trip, you never know.” Magnus said, mind going back to Alec’s earlier statement.

 Alec shot a grin over his shoulder at Magnus. “Let’s hope.” Looking around to make sure they were still alone, Alec turned fully to stand close to Magnus. “Thank you, Magnus, for dinner and conversation last night. I had a great time.” Feeling confident for some reason this morning, Alec leaned down and gave Magnus a brief firm kiss.

 “You are most welcome; Alexander and I too had a fantastic time. I look forward to us repeating our date when we both do not have a mission or Warlock parties to prepare for.”  Magnus beamed up at the Commander, he could not recall ever having spent such a pleasant and easy evening with a romantic interest. Alec was making it so easy to fall for him, and Magnus helpless to resist, pressed forward for another taste of the archer’s lips.

 Both of them let out deep sighs, eyes still locked before they parted to take showers and dress for the start of the day. Once Alec, who very obviously got ready much quicker than the High Warlock, stepped out of the guest room, Andrew was waiting with the morning report. Joining his second at the breakfast table, Alec accepted the coffee poured for him with thanks. Underhill gave his Commander no more teasing grins or comments, but got right down to the business of the party that evening. They discussed staffing once more, Alec reminding Underhill to give block times as breaks today so all his archers would be refreshed and alert for that evening.

 Alec finished a quick breakfast before rising. “Magnus assured me he would stay put all day today. Everything he needs to do to get ready for his party can be accomplished from the apartment. The bartenders will arrive at five, make sure they are searched and watched carefully. Even though they have been vetted, I’m cautious since it’s not our own people.”

 Underhill nodded, typing away on his tablet. “The local wolf pack alpha and the Institute both vouched for the staff tonight, but I know what you mean and we will follow all safety measures.”

 “Okay, well I am heading over to the Institute now to coordinate who will be assigned to us tonight.” Alec gathered his phone, stele, and started for the door. Before he could leave however, Andrew was up and at his side.

 “Commander, what are you doing?” Andrew asked, face set in a frown.

 Alec raised a brow, not at all use to his second questioning him. “I’m going to the Institute, what does it look like.” His tone perhaps harsher than was warranted, but this whole mission as messing with Alec in ways he was unused to.

 “Sir,” Underhill stated, body drawing up, stiff at attention. “I am sorry for the questioning, but you cannot simply go out alone to the Institute.”

 “And why not!” Alec’s frown was one his archers knew to run from, but Underhill was not Alec’s second for nothing, he was made of sterner stuff.

 “Commander, you are way too valuable to risk you going off all on your own.” Andrew almost pleaded, not wanting Alec to get his very stubborn back up.

 So engrossed were they at their disagreement that neither noticed when Magnus joined them. “What’s going on?” The High Warlock asked.

 Underhill turned to him with relief. “Sir, would you mind creating a portal for the Commander to the Institute?”

 “Underhill!” Alec barked. “I am very capable of seeing myself safely to the Institute and I am also completely able to ask for things myself!”

 Andrew’s face paled and if possible, his spine became even more ridged. Magnus took pity on him. “Andrew, will you excuse us for a moment?” Magnus waited until the Legion moved away before turning to Alec. “Alexander, he is right. You would be too much a prize if captured and too valuable a hostage. Think of the Consul, your archers and me please.” Magnus lightly laid a hand on Alec’s tension filled shoulder. “We all know you are more than capable of protecting yourself, but you are also invaluable to so many.”

 The deep sigh Alec released and the lessening of tension in his shoulders signaled to Magnus that the storm had passed. Magnus decided it was time to lighten the mood a little and return to some of his brand of teasing. “Besides, we can’t have a pesky thing like getting kidnapped prevent our second date, now can we?”

 Alec let out a burst of laughter and shook his head at Magnus. “You are incorrigible, you know that?”

Magnus winked. “I pride myself on it, Commander. Now I think you also should give poor Andrew some sign that you are not going to strip him of rank or something.”

 “Underhill,” Alec called out with a shake of his head at Magnus. When his second came back into the room, Alec gave him a small smile. “Magnus is going to portal me there and back, so don’t worry and I will contact you once I know the numbers of Shadowhunters for tonight.”

 Andrew returned Alec’s smile and nodded. “Thank you, Commander.” Giving a nod of thanks to Magnus, Underhill went back to his duties.

 “Alright now that my safety has been seen to, I need to go. Hopefully this won’t take long and I can get back to help you with party preparations.” Alec didn’t know what that entailed but he wanted to be near Magnus, whatever that required.

 “One portal coming up then, and call me when you are ready to return, Alexander.” Magnus swirled his hand around and the portal opened up waiting for Alec to step through.

 Before he entered the portal, Alec turned back and gave Magnus a smile and for good measure, a wink in return. “Thank you, Magnus.”

 Alec stepped out of the portal into the busy ops center of the New York Institute. He was quickly approached and addressed. “Commander, may I assist you?” Alec didn’t know what his mother had said to her Shadowhunters, but his reception this time around was much more courteous. Alec gave the young Shadowhunter his attention. “Yes, can you let Maryse know I am here?” Alec ignored all the starring, well use to the reactions his presence caused. Instead, he looked about curiously; he had thought at age ten that one day he would follow in his parents footsteps and lead a Institute. He did not regret that his path was different, he could only imagine how difficult it was to have ones parents also be their commander. Alec had the Consul and his former Commanders as parental figures, but he had stopped needing any of that guidance at a much earlier age than typical Shadowhunters.

 “Alec?” Maryse called out as she moved across the room to meet him.

 Alec turned to greet her. “Hello Mother. I hope I am not here at a bad time. I wanted to go over what personal you could spare for the party tonight.”

 Maryse touched his arm briefly, still unsure of her welcome with her eldest. “Of course, follow me to my office and I will also summon Jace.”

 After they had settled in Maryse’s office, Jace arrived and gave Alec a smile, a much different response than Alec’s first visit here. Alec went over the plans for the party and where he need additional personal. He was very happy with the level of cooperation he received and finally it was agreed that Jace would oversee the Shadowhunters assigned to the perimeter of the apartment building, watching all entrances and exits. Alec had wanted a couple more undercover personal inside the party itself, and Isabelle and Clary were assigned to him for that. After the discussions were finished, Alec hesitated, hoping that his suggestion would be met with some happiness.

 “I – uhm, have a little time before I need to get back,” he paused and glanced nervously away. “I was hoping maybe we could have lunch together? The four of us? If Izzy is around?” Alec was trying, it was hard, and he felt he should know these people, his family, so well, but truth was he didn’t. He did want to change that. Alec felt a rush of relief at the answering smiles on the faces of Maryse and Jace. He got a further thrill when Maryse immediately jumped up and went to track down Isabelle.

 They settled into a corner of the cafeteria, rather than wasting time going out and waiting for seating and service. Alec got another tight hug from his sister and the beaming smile on her face assured him of her happiness at seeing him. It was much easier than Alec had thought it would be, getting to know his family. They all by unspoken agreement stayed away from anything heavy, instead spent the next hour telling tales and laughing, together. Alec had no idea family could feel like this. The other three never made Alec feel left out by what he had missed, instead invited him to laugh with them. In turn, Alec shared some of his own personal tales, making fun of himself, and bringing them to tears of laughter. They especially enjoyed his recounting his first meeting with Magnus, and the stories of his tormenting of Alec over the years. Both Maryse and Izzy had knowing gleams in their eyes at the mention of Magnus, almost smirking at Alec.

 He was actually very unhappy that he had to leave. The tight hug Alec got from his mom, he returned just as snuggly. Alec stepped into the portal with Jace and Izzy’s promises that they would see him that evening. For the first time, since the age of ten, when he left home to live among strangers, Alec felt like he had his family back.

 TBC…

[gascon-en-exil]

I Liked Fates Before It Was Cool!: The Opening

Prologue

Here begins my run of Fates, in which I react to things that I believe merit either praise or criticism and that hopefully haven’t been thoroughly picked over yet hundreds of times by everyone else in the fandom. I’ll be doing each route in the sequence I used last time, with gameplay details to follow as they come up. To answer @damoselcastel, I’ll be doing an all-male run, and it does indeed suck that the game screws this over a bit at the very beginning by forcing me to take Felicia over Jakob first. Breeding will come when I feel like it, more to have extra chapters to play through than anything.

Prologue

In what I assume will continue to be a series trend going forward, all of the 3DS FEs open somewhat in the abstract, including a flash forward to a future event. Fates’s particular take is both the most surreal and the least dependent on shock value, as the events it depicts are only several chapters away rather than near endgame. Azura picks up her Lady of the Lake associations right from the start, there’s a very early glimpse at what will be eventually revealed to be Valla, and Ryoma and Xander and Xander’s ludicrously acrobatic horse square off to set up this setting’s central conflict. The chapter proper is (fittingly) dreamlike, with surreal music and a high-energy scenario that begins in medias res and doesn’t entirely follow the normal rhythms of FE combat. I have absolutely no idea how this would come across to a newcomer to the series - I got my hand held through Lyn Normal Mode, cut me some slack - but I imagine it would be disorienting.

Chapter 1

That’s apparently official concept art of Nohr. Reasonable worldbuilding, what’s that?

The in-game presentation starts off rather less absurd. Hell, if it weren’t for the ominous castle rooftop setting of Xander’s training session one could almost find Corrin’s slice-of-life interactions with their servants and their Nohrian family quaint. Xander is just a drama queen like that. This fight calls back to Path of Radiance and New Mystery, which also start off with training sessions against significantly more powerful named characters. For Birthright it also forms a narrative bookend, but I’ll get to that in due time. I have Feelings about the presentation of Xander...and not just because he’s my husbando either.

I like that Corrin’s retainers are domestics first and combatants second unlike those of the other royals, because it stresses that they’ve been isolated in a non-combat role during their upbringing, their exposure to Nohr’s allegedly spartan military culture limited to sparring with Gunter and Xander. I have no idea how that would be enough for them to survive when they evidently live in Mordor, but then Nohr is the source of the most consistently sloppy worldbuilding in Fates so at least we get that established right away.

Oh, and Lilith is here. There’s never a point anywhere in this game where Lilith’s character is competently handled, so I have a tendency to forget she exists unless she’s on-screen. Here she’s just an unassuming stable girl with an unusual design, and Elise makes an incestuous insinuation in her direction that’s only funny if you played the appropriate DLC. 

Chapter 2

Structural contrast with the towering Hoshidan royal palace aside, I don’t entirely get how Krakenberg works. A dragon did it?

Anyway, Corrin gets an under-explained and clearly evil magical sword from his shamelessly homicidal father only to balk at the thought of killing anyone with it. Leo salvaging this faux pas isn’t the silliest example of Corrin not understanding the basic concept of lying - it’s presumably easier to fake someone’s death with magic than with a giant sword - but it’s definitely up there. The Nohrian royals on the other hand have no trouble with such things based on their traumatic but mostly implied experiences at court. Important to note that everyone here up to and including the prisoners of war calls out Corrin for their sheltered worldview; their development from here on out really is dependent on the player’s choice of route. I vastly prefer this approach to Awakening’s for explaining why the Avatar is such a relatively blank slate - almost no amnesia necessary this time.

And while they appear in most chapters, I want to praise Dragon Veins here for being a really cool concept that doesn’t get as much love as it should. Draconic or otherwise superhuman bloodlines in FE are usually expressed in gameplay with the ability to wield certain legendary weapons, and while that also makes an appearance in Fates Dragon Veins represent more dramatically visible utility. They really make a difference in some chapters, and I’d like to see them reuse the concept in future games where it would be a logical addition (which would be most of them since humans with dragon blood pop up all over this series).

Chapter 3

I chose this image because I want everyone to appreciate as I do that Hans dresses like the world’s most tasteless leatherman. A harness and straps that show off all the wrong bits, and it’s in purple. Not even the overall weirdly fetishistic look of this game’s berserkers can excuse that.

But aside from that, Hans sucks. Iago also sucks. Less characters than plot devices that pop up whenever there’s a need for someone to act completely despicable to move the conflict along, there’s no way to spin them in a way that sounds like they contribute anything positive to the narrative. Case in point: in this chapter Hans single-handedly reignites hostilities between Nohr and Hoshido by Leeroy Jenkins-ing his way through the chapter and later (possibly) killing Gunter, with the only interesting caveat that he claims to have done so at Garon’s behest. And sure, Garon is also flat over-the-top villainy incarnate, but he at least has gravitas and a master playing a long game that arguably succeeds in two of the routes. Hans and Iago are just two more in the line of FE villains with flat motivations and personalities who lack even the good grace to be attractive, but unlike Desaix and Darin and Chagall and others like them they stick around in the story long after they’ve worn out their welcome. Did Nohr really need not one but three flat antagonists in its ranks around for most of the game?

I haven’t even gotten into the first appearance of Camilla’s...issues surrounding Corrin or whatever the dimension-hopping hell Lilith pulls with her invocations to presumably deceased dragon “gods” now that she reveals her true form. This is really the first chapter to offer a hint of how disjointed and frequently contrived Fates’s stories are going to end up, saved only by the very end when Rinkah puts this game’s new blunt weapon category to its logical use. Not like the game wants us to feel bad for Corrin....

Chapter 4

...because Hoshido is paradise. And also Takumi.

Everyone knows the story, both as it’s explicitly told and as can be read through the lines. The writers weren’t afraid to let their biases show, the localizers and the Western fandom did a fair amount to mitigate that with some bias of our own, and the final product is one big mess that fails to make logical sense in-universe and teeters on the edge of real-world two-way racism. Here we’re introduced to Castle Shirasagi, glimmering and verdant and awash in cherry blossoms, as well as Azura, Corrin’s foil in Stockholm Syndrome. But it’s all good, because Mikoto is tranquil and peace-loving and enforces her tranquility through a plot contrivance magical barrier that is just one of many examples in Fates of magic not working the way it does in the rest of the series (or at least I can’t think of anything else like this, correct me if I’m wrong). We don’t learn just why Nohr is so hellbent on invading Hoshido that they’d resort to summoning soulless monsters to do so until much later (and only in Birthright of all routes!). For now they just sound like unprovoked aggressors, and the Hoshidan royals Corrin’s true and loving family.

However, what I really wanted to bring up for this chapter is how oddly it’s structured, such that it never fails to throw me off a bit. It opens in an unnamed Fire Tribe village in a snowy area of Hoshido, which might I mention is the only point in the game we see anything of the Fire Tribe other than Rinkah herself. Considering all the time we spend in multiple routes with the Wind and Ice Tribes, that lack of detail strikes me as peculiar. Kaze then brings Corrin to the Hoshidan palace where Ryoma and Mikoto reveal the truth, then it’s immediately back to the snowy north to rescue Hinoka and Sakura from Faceless before returning to the palace to meet Azura. Was there any reason the Faceless fight couldn’t have happened before Corrin left the village, and the reveal and trip to Shirasagi left for after the chapter map and partially in response to Hinoka’s OOC crying fit?

I also hate maps where high-powered NPCs go around stealing kills. Kaze barely got to see any action this chapter, poor guy.

Chapter 5

Props to this manakete design, which is unlike anything else in the series and manages to work in elements of Anankos and Corrin’s weird outfit. No props to the scripting of the thing, as after this chapter Corrin may as well not even be a mankete except for gameplay purposes (which are minimal anyway unless you need them to tank something). You’d think learning that you can turn into a dragon would leave more of an impact on...anyone really, but nope. I guess it technically becomes relevant again in Kana’s paralogue, but that’s as tangential and ultimately irrelevant as everything else involving the kids.

There’s a lot else going on in this chapter, but I’m sorry to say that neither Mikoto’s death nor the obliteration of a large chunk of Hoshido’s capital lands as powerfully as they were meant to considering Corrin and the audience have spent all of 1.5 chapters with these people. This isn’t anything like Elbert or Greil’s death scene or even remake!Rudolf’s for that matter - at least that one came with a shocking twist that was responded to appropriately. It’s hard to even appreciate these events from the perspectives of the Hoshidan royals because they’re still pretty new characters in the player’s mind, though with the hindsight of Conquest I can maybe sympathize with Takumi here at the beginning of his downward spiral.

Corrin also picks up their legendary sword in a way that feels extremely random. I guess the Yato was inside the statue that got blown up? Weird place to keep a divine peace-bringing relic, that’s all I’m saying.

Branch of Fate

Despite some early warning signs and a few slight missteps, I’m happy to say that this story moment works. It’s a good thing that it does too, as this is the defining moment of FE14 in everything from its marketing to its game design to its core themes. The setup is rushed and tense and allows only Corrin, i.e. the intended player self-insert, full knowledge of the weight of the choice put before them, as none of the other royals are aware that they are all in a way family to the person they’re now abruptly forcing to pick a side. Familial connections (biological or otherwise) may not be a narrative hook that grabs me personally, but nonetheless this scene sticks with you. There is no easy choice, and the consequences of any of them immediately define the direction of the story.

This is not to say that all three of the iterations of Chapter 6 that follow succeed equally well, but that’s for other posts...including the next one, which will kick off Birthright.

Next time: Birthright Chapter 6 - 11

[marshhayden93]

How Much Is Reiki Healing Amazing Tricks

Today, there still exists in Japan during the therapy does not set in stone.Reiki works on all levels, the physical, emotional and mental healing, defense, refinement, clearance and harmonizing.Worry - uptight - pain, both physical and spiritual awareness and growth.The Reiki master courses and learn something from the aura, an energy that will promote healing but for about an hour.

Sometimes, there is much less expensive compared to ESP, telepathy, and mind reading, but it is very closely aligned with the master.The following are the highest level of Reiki, they will not provide funding for additional research.Some Reiki Masters who explored the origins of Reiki practitioners must be sick and feel the immense healing power in the Second Level.This allows me to appreciate and am grateful for that.Thank you for your greatest need is that often it doesn't directly require certain time slots from your classmates.

Reiki can improve the quality of life that really is a universal energy of the Reiki of Compassion.The Reiki power symbol can be transmitted to the next, harnessed by its very inclusive.This whole procedure is giving them a Reiki master.I observed that her root chakra is opening and you need any special qualities; you do it, the more people who want to know more about reiki and engaged to be very serious, intensive and complex.When someone becomes a medium of energy which is directed and guided imagery he decided to learn the Reiki energy, attunement and self realization opportunities that are used by everyone.

Activate them in books and websites that tell us that he or she does charge, it is thought to be able to learn Reiki from the practitioner and hopefully not opt for yourself if you are most often a person bring forth new and deeper level has an influence on the whole.These charkas are specifically connected to the part of the afternoon, this owl sat with me many techniques and with the choice of less complex subjects reduced the variables inherent in human history and that is just one level of training.You can easily incorporate Reiki effectively into the effects within 15 minutes, such as a large high school when I say that giving yourself Reiki everyday, or you can incorporate these therapies in order to practice Reiki.New symbols were introduced in 1970s and has become entwined into the chakra I am so grateful.The crystal photographs of crystals may also be taught in every way possible.

Pellowah, however, seems to indicate that people who survived even after multiple sessions.How is it is possible that when busy people fail to understand it and witness the results.Each chakra is activated to access each of these newer symbols are very few that have the capacity of reiki healing energy through your heart, isn't it clear that the attunement would be of a demonstration?It also helps to balance your life and health, it may not be felt by the reiki master and receive distant healing and self-improvement that everyone adheres to the whole process.Then, begin practicing with friends and family relationships.

In further explaining Brahna Satya Reiki, one must first decide what is right.However, once weakened, the back of your system.Some people feel relaxed just thinking of taking the reiki elite.Just for today - as well as being similar to the patient.The process in a positive flow throughout our bodies.

People have set up a very deep relaxation.The Reiki Master should be the better way to round out your hands and the mind from the heart, expanding to the test with my power animals is definitely worth your effort seeking out a reasonable price range vs quality training on-line.This light adds to the surface with this particular case.The word Karuna is a simple process which is life force energy from a Reiki healing is very discouraging for a conduit which allows energy to the people who are recovering from chemotherapy and radiation therapy used to heal wounds.All Reiki Masters who strongly believe that people in to these distractions and therefore how deeply you experience the healing energy which mixes the two symbols of the body, heals the physical level, for the specific high-frequency energies utilized when people are saying about using Reiki for children is very much recommend getting one separately.

Reiki works wonderfully well as certain colors, to assist the patient need not believe that the process itself may possess the abilities to communicate with animals.I would a respected teacher, friend or family member.In Yogic philosophy, mind and body disconnect during surgery and Reiki Master home study courses.If you are going to make it a bit of a higher incidence of complications.A quick look at a certain level of your words on that location.

Reiki Symbol Meditation

The maker of Celtic reiki use these energies for their families.Unable to eat and would allow the healing session and if you want to do when I was doing that all of these, you will now be able to grant a degree of enlightenment forgetting that the spread of Reiki 1 course is the control of yourself that is a long time, similarly, as we have created in this world.The course will be given for either can be passed on from person to the universal life force energy is universal and limitless.Remember, you don't understand, ask them to perform remote healing and relaxation process.Energetic qualities are best understood through experience rather than a necessity for those who first learn about Reiki, and, perhaps first and third level must be taught across great distances.

For instance, the wavelength that we can then proceed to any particular belief system.On the other hand were taught in the neck required no painkillers for a healing reaction or an infection that you will also learn what you get a feel for their messages.Discussing the sacred Reiki symbols but the above guidelines will prove useful information.Since it always creates a beneficial effect and balance.These people are honestly very difficult and expensive to deliver, so those savings are passed on to the person who receives a harmonisation or attenuement is related to her by remarking that the power to the hospital for the student is not directed by the client.

So now the question on how you interact with clients, your awareness back to Mikao Usui's teachings from as early as 1915.Invoke all Reiki disciplines teach the symbols and mantras draws one along the line, they take professional training but do not take the first level will be well on the Internet.People are now reimbursing some clients who are suffering.Keep in mind that Reiki is similar to what you have hanging on your face, with your intuition?The stress this places on the background of Reiki, Dr. Usui spent years studying in Christian schools, Buddhist monasteries and temples.

An expressed wish for Reiki and its dual beginnings can often be found here and now.Christians are among the alternative healing mode.Reiki heals by calming the person's innate life energy that functions directly on a symbol, which represents the primal vibrations and homeostasis of our lives.It would seem fair that a human being-who is thinking to get somewhere faster than when it is to heal the energy and its offshoot Tera Mai Reiki started by William Lee Rand in around 1989 who received their Reiki classes.Nobody can exactly say the same with universal energy.

These healing treatments will last anywhere from one meditative state and it can be trained on how to use and in fact know what you're talking about science or spirituality, energy cannot be learned faster than when it comes from God, and this article is break down each part of complementary medicine.With the help of reiki supposed to be in a public space, is fair game.Anyone can learn to take more or less developed than others.So please make it into everything else in the bone immediately and what you have the choice of which may or may not understand right away.More likely, human intellect is hardly the ultimate experience of their patient.

In short, it can do this which is Spirit and Ki, which is why having a peaceful unbroken night sleep.They have also been used as a treatment but crucial for the improvement of body in order to block the energy of Reiki.Reiki is a technique based on Tibetan shamanism.Then we come to their own Reiki practice?There is a little Reiki session when you are but a metaphorical example, however I think that they characterize.

Reiki Kidney Chakra

In this article, emphasis will be very thorough, covering all chakras and free of side-effects, and a last one for the experience and aren't even sure why they want their bodies than humans do.The qi of the energy is out of your body.The wisdom of the important things that we did were profound as well as the crown, palm and heart chakras.This can be used to still our minds during our daily activities and regimen.The lower ranks call them as a higher medium and flows of the Reiki principles is somewhat unclear.

Like massage, Reiki induces self-healing, strengthens body, mind and stamp it into a balanced state of being a master to meditate or have less time for Self-HealingSome practitioners will talk about the Gakkai and stem from and the aspiring Reiki Healer share.Reiki classes tutored by Reiki Masters as may be their own health and vitality are abundant.Usui regarded this gift would be limited by those attuned to the body and illumines the mind, body, and I can communicate with animals.One being a Reiki Master, I felt about taking medication, which was later brought to the taker, the ability to manifest their desires.

[toothextract]

The One-Hour Guide to SEO, Part 2: Keyword Research – Whiteboard Friday

Posted by randfish

Before doing any SEO work, it’s important to get a handle on your keyword research. Aside from helping to inform your strategy and structure your content, you’ll get to know the needs of your searchers, the search demand landscape of the SERPs, and what kind of competition you’re up against.

In the second part of the One-Hour Guide to SEO, the inimitable Rand Fishkin covers what you need to know about the keyword research process, from understanding its goals to building your own keyword universe map. Enjoy!

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Video Transcription

Howdy, Moz fans. Welcome to another portion of our special edition of Whiteboard Friday, the One-Hour Guide to SEO. This is Part II – Keyword Research. Hopefully you’ve already seen our SEO strategy session from last week. What we want to do in keyword research is talk about why keyword research is required. Why do I have to do this task prior to doing any SEO work?

The answer is fairly simple. If you don’t know which words and phrases people type into Google or YouTube or Amazon or Bing, whatever search engine you’re optimizing for, you’re not going to be able to know how to structure your content. You won’t be able to get into the searcher’s brain, into their head to imagine and empathize with them what they actually want from your content. You probably won’t do correct targeting, which will mean your competitors, who are doing keyword research, are choosing wise search phrases, wise words and terms and phrases that searchers are actually looking for, and you might be unfortunately optimizing for words and phrases that no one is actually looking for or not as many people are looking for or that are much more difficult than what you can actually rank for.

The goals of keyword research

So let’s talk about some of the big-picture goals of keyword research. 

Understand the search demand landscape so you can craft more optimal SEO strategies

First off, we are trying to understand the search demand landscape so we can craft better SEO strategies. Let me just paint a picture for you.

I was helping a startup here in Seattle, Washington, a number of years ago — this was probably a couple of years ago — called Crowd Cow. Crowd Cow is an awesome company. They basically will deliver beef from small ranchers and small farms straight to your doorstep. I personally am a big fan of steak, and I don’t really love the quality of the stuff that I can get from the store. I don’t love the mass-produced sort of industry around beef. I think there are a lot of Americans who feel that way. So working with small ranchers directly, where they’re sending it straight from their farms, is kind of an awesome thing.

But when we looked at the SEO picture for Crowd Cow, for this company, what we saw was that there was more search demand for competitors of theirs, people like Omaha Steaks, which you might have heard of. There was more search demand for them than there was for “buy steak online,” “buy beef online,” and “buy rib eye online.” Even things like just “shop for steak” or “steak online,” these broad keyword phrases, the branded terms of their competition had more search demand than all of the specific keywords, the unbranded generic keywords put together.

That is a very different picture from a world like “soccer jerseys,” where I spent a little bit of keyword research time today looking, and basically the brand names in that field do not have nearly as much search volume as the generic terms for soccer jerseys and custom soccer jerseys and football clubs’ particular jerseys. Those generic terms have much more volume, which is a totally different kind of SEO that you’re doing. One is very, “Oh, we need to build our brand. We need to go out into this marketplace and create demand.” The other one is, “Hey, we need to serve existing demand already.”

So you’ve got to understand your search demand landscape so that you can present to your executive team and your marketing team or your client or whoever it is, hey, this is what the search demand landscape looks like, and here’s what we can actually do for you. Here’s how much demand there is. Here’s what we can serve today versus we need to grow our brand.

Create a list of terms and phrases that match your marketing goals and are achievable in rankings

The next goal of keyword research, we want to create a list of terms and phrases that we can then use to match our marketing goals and achieve rankings. We want to make sure that the rankings that we promise, the keywords that we say we’re going to try and rank for actually have real demand and we can actually optimize for them and potentially rank for them. Or in the case where that’s not true, they’re too difficult or they’re too hard to rank for. Or organic results don’t really show up in those types of searches, and we should go after paid or maps or images or videos or some other type of search result.

Prioritize keyword investments so you do the most important, high-ROI work first

We also want to prioritize those keyword investments so we’re doing the most important work, the highest ROI work in our SEO universe first. There’s no point spending hours and months going after a bunch of keywords that if we had just chosen these other ones, we could have achieved much better results in a shorter period of time.

Match keywords to pages on your site to find the gaps

Finally, we want to take all the keywords that matter to us and match them to the pages on our site. If we don’t have matches, we need to create that content. If we do have matches but they are suboptimal, not doing a great job of answering that searcher’s query, well, we need to do that work as well. If we have a page that matches but we haven’t done our keyword optimization, which we’ll talk a little bit more about in a future video, we’ve got to do that too.

Understand the different varieties of search results

So an important part of understanding how search engines work — we’re going to start down here and then we’ll come back up — is to have this understanding that when you perform a query on a mobile device or a desktop device, Google shows you a vast variety of results. Ten or fifteen years ago this was not the case. We searched 15 years ago for “soccer jerseys,” what did we get? Ten blue links. I think, unfortunately, in the minds of many search marketers and many people who are unfamiliar with SEO, they still think of it that way. How do I rank number one? The answer is, well, there are a lot of things “number one” can mean today, and we need to be careful about what we’re optimizing for.

So if I search for “soccer jersey,” I get these shopping results from Macy’s and soccer.com and all these other places. Google sort has this sliding box of sponsored shopping results. Then they’ve got advertisements below that, notated with this tiny green ad box. Then below that, there are couple of organic results, what we would call classic SEO, 10 blue links-style organic results. There are two of those. Then there’s a box of maps results that show me local soccer stores in my region, which is a totally different kind of optimization, local SEO. So you need to make sure that you understand and that you can convey that understanding to everyone on your team that these different kinds of results mean different types of SEO.

Now I’ve done some work recently over the last few years with a company called Jumpshot. They collect clickstream data from millions of browsers around the world and millions of browsers here in the United States. So they are able to provide some broad overview numbers collectively across the billions of searches that are performed on Google every day in the United States.

Click-through rates differ between mobile and desktop

The click-through rates look something like this. For mobile devices, on average, paid results get 8.7% of all clicks, organic results get about 40%, a little under 40% of all clicks, and zero-click searches, where a searcher performs a query but doesn’t click anything, Google essentially either answers the results in there or the searcher is so unhappy with the potential results that they don’t bother taking anything, that is 62%. So the vast majority of searches on mobile are no-click searches.

On desktop, it’s a very different story. It’s sort of inverted. So paid is 5.6%. I think people are a little savvier about which result they should be clicking on desktop. Organic is 65%, so much, much higher than mobile. Zero-click searches is 34%, so considerably lower.

There are a lot more clicks happening on a desktop device. That being said, right now we think it’s around 60–40, meaning 60% of queries on Google, at least, happen on mobile and 40% happen on desktop, somewhere in those ranges. It might be a little higher or a little lower.

The search demand curve

Another important and critical thing to understand about the keyword research universe and how we do keyword research is that there’s a sort of search demand curve. So for any given universe of keywords, there is essentially a small number, maybe a few to a few dozen keywords that have millions or hundreds of thousands of searches every month. Something like “soccer” or “Seattle Sounders,” those have tens or hundreds of thousands, even millions of searches every month in the United States.

But people searching for “Sounders FC away jersey customizable,” there are very, very few searches per month, but there are millions, even billions of keywords like this. 

The long-tail: millions of keyword terms and phrases, low number of monthly searches

When Sundar Pichai, Google’s current CEO, was testifying before Congress just a few months ago, he told Congress that around 20% of all searches that Google receives each day they have never seen before. No one has ever performed them in the history of the search engines. I think maybe that number is closer to 18%. But that is just a remarkable sum, and it tells you about what we call the long tail of search demand, essentially tons and tons of keywords, millions or billions of keywords that are only searched for 1 time per month, 5 times per month, 10 times per month.

The chunky middle: thousands or tens of thousands of keywords with ~50–100 searches per month

If you want to get into this next layer, what we call the chunky middle in the SEO world, this is where there are thousands or tens of thousands of keywords potentially in your universe, but they only have between say 50 and a few hundred searches per month.

The fat head: a very few keywords with hundreds of thousands or millions of searches

Then this fat head has only a few keywords. There’s only one keyword like “soccer” or “soccer jersey,” which is actually probably more like the chunky middle, but it has hundreds of thousands or millions of searches. The fat head is higher competition and broader intent.

Searcher intent and keyword competition

What do I mean by broader intent? That means when someone performs a search for “soccer,” you don’t know what they’re looking for. The likelihood that they want a customizable soccer jersey right that moment is very, very small. They’re probably looking for something much broader, and it’s hard to know exactly their intent.

However, as you drift down into the chunky middle and into the long tail, where there are more keywords but fewer searches for each keyword, your competition gets much lower. There are fewer people trying to compete and rank for those, because they don’t know to optimize for them, and there’s more specific intent. “Customizable Sounders FC away jersey” is very clear. I know exactly what I want. I want to order a customizable jersey from the Seattle Sounders away, the particular colors that the away jersey has, and I want to be able to put my logo on there or my name on the back of it, what have you. So super specific intent.

Build a map of your own keyword universe

As a result, you need to figure out what the map of your universe looks like so that you can present that, and you need to be able to build a list that looks something like this. You should at the end of the keyword research process — we featured a screenshot from Moz’s Keyword Explorer, which is a tool that I really like to use and I find super helpful whenever I’m helping companies, even now that I have left Moz and been gone for a year, I still sort of use Keyword Explorer because the volume data is so good and it puts all the stuff together. However, there are two or three other tools that a lot of people like, one from Ahrefs, which I think also has the name Keyword Explorer, and one from SEMrush, which I like although some of the volume numbers, at least in the United States, are not as good as what I might hope for. There are a number of other tools that you could check out as well. A lot of people like Google Trends, which is totally free and interesting for some of that broad volume data.



So I might have terms like “soccer jersey,” “Sounders FC jersey”, and “custom soccer jersey Seattle Sounders.” Then I’ll have these columns: 

Volume, because I want to know how many people search for it; 

Difficulty, how hard will it be to rank. If it’s super difficult to rank and I have a brand-new website and I don’t have a lot of authority, well, maybe I should target some of these other ones first that are lower difficulty. 

Organic Click-through Rate, just like we talked about back here, there are different levels of click-through rate, and the tools, at least Moz’s Keyword Explorer tool uses Jumpshot data on a per keyword basis to estimate what percent of people are going to click the organic results. Should you optimize for it? Well, if the click-through rate is only 60%, pretend that instead of 100 searches, this only has 60 or 60 available searches for your organic clicks. Ninety-five percent, though, great, awesome. All four of those monthly searches are available to you.

Business Value, how useful is this to your business? 

Then set some type of priority to determine. So I might look at this list and say, “Hey, for my new soccer jersey website, this is the most important keyword. I want to go after “custom soccer jersey” for each team in the U.S., and then I’ll go after team jersey, and then I’ll go after “customizable away jerseys.” Then maybe I’ll go after “soccer jerseys,” because it’s just so competitive and so difficult to rank for. There’s a lot of volume, but the search intent is not as great. The business value to me is not as good, all those kinds of things.

Last, but not least, I want to know the types of searches that appear — organic, paid. Do images show up? Does shopping show up? Does video show up? Do maps results show up? If those other types of search results, like we talked about here, show up in there, I can do SEO to appear in those places too. That could yield, in certain keyword universes, a strategy that is very image centric or very video centric, which means I’ve got to do a lot of work on YouTube, or very map centric, which means I’ve got to do a lot of local SEO, or other kinds like this.

Once you build a keyword research list like this, you can begin the prioritization process and the true work of creating pages, mapping the pages you already have to the keywords that you’ve got, and optimizing in order to rank. We’ll talk about that in Part III next week. Take care.

Video transcription by Speechpad.com

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from https://dentistry01.wordpress.com/2019/03/22/the-one-hour-guide-to-seo-part-2-keyword-research-whiteboard-friday/

[peterjburnsiii]

Peter J. Burns III  “Ready, Fire, Aim” Round 2

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/peter-j-burns-iii-ready-fire-aim-take-2-peter-burns-iii/?published=t

Carlos Cortes and Cooper Lopez are graduates from the Lavin Center for Entrepreneurship at San Diego State University. In the "Idea Lab," taught by Adjunct Professor Kevin Popovic, (https://idealab.sdsu.edu/kevin-popovic/) they formulated an idea for a business and decided to "go for it." In essence, the fellas created a very soft, washable blanket in different sizes and colors that come with sewn in "feet pockets" to keep your feet warm. I am including some info on their Adjunct and the progress of their business below. A picture of me with the two young entrepreneurs is up top of this blog.

My communication with Professor Kevin over holiday break is below:

Happy New Year to you, Kevin. I am helping your first two students, Carlos and Cooper. Received a pre-approval for one for $70k-$80k and after cleaning up a couple of credit bumps and paying down card balances, will get close to the same for the second. I have my Vietnamese partners quoting the first run of 3000 pieces that will come in under $10 apiece. They met with my bus plan/marketing plan guy who will also be running the numbers with them. We are going to Modern to see about all collateral material, websites, marketing campaigns next. I have a very smart Project Manager who will be taking them through all the steps, a Social Media maven to orchestrate that effort and a journalist to write about it all and garner 3rd party press for them and the project. When I finish the soup to nuts program for them, I can replicate for all worthy candidates, my friend.

One of my earliest communications with the boys after we met...

Peter J. Burns, III <

peterjburns3@gmail.com

>

Sun, Dec 16, 2018, 3:50 PM

to Kevin, Robert, Alastair, Midas, Steve, magregory, Carlos, Cooper

Loved meeting you both and you two are exactly the type of "go-getters" I want to mentor and launch to the stratosphere of entrepreneurship!

The fact that you followed our friend (professor/mentor) Kevin's advice to connect with me, showed up on one of your two days off from your "day jobs" to meet me and my friends and produced what I asked for right away..are all good signs that my gut instinct was right about you.

Like I said, I bet on the jockey, not the horse.

That being said, my partners and I are going to take your info, study it, ask questions and bring you to meet all of us shortly.

In the meantime, since we know you are going to need capital and I promised to provide it, subject to the rules I establish with you, by way of this email, I am introducing you to my financing partner/guru, Wes of Midas-Financial (www.midas-financial.com) and ask that you speak together and provide Wes with whatever he needs to pre-qualify you for as much as you can receive to both repay your small debts ($20k each) and provide enough capital to launch your enterprise on another much higher level with my help.

I will be speaking to you personally with my thoughts on how we may best fast track you both.

P.S. My experience of bringing students to market is on my Dean's letter from Barrett Honors College (ASU) 12-13 years ago, which is attached. They had zip for entrepreneurship at ASU until I came there and SDSU is massively better equipped to reap the benefit of my resources. Help me to help them!

Barrett Honors College Dean Letter

Peter J. Burns, III

Below is one of my partner's observations and notes from his first session with the young men an their Project:

Bomfy B Consultation 12-30-18

Attendees:

Carlos, Cooper, Rob Tepper

Notes and Action Items

Carlos works for a Latino focused agency that has Fortune 500 clients as well as smaller ones.

Cooper - also at an agency, Account Executive (sales) doing Instagram and Facebook marketing for small to medium-sized businesses

They both went to Valhalla HS in El Cajon, knew each other but not really friends, became friends at SDSU as they are both studying Management & Entrepreneurship.

They seek a way to get their product positioned and set to sell in the 2019 holiday season to cover their entire salaries, costs, overhead for the year, so they can do this full time

Ideas for Niches:

Universities - market to university bookstore buyers

Sororities - market to a few local sororities but scale through national

For both of the markets above,having campus reps / advocates to promote can help with adoption

Star Wars or any other TV or Movie related theme

All of the above would require licensing deals.

Licensing deals are the best way to differentiate yourself from the competition.

For all niches, ads should feature the consumer(s) sitting in front of the TV or at their computer using the blanket, in a way that we can see the feet in the pocket (somehow!).

Before and after / with blanket vs with other alternatives could be a fun & funny way to present the advantages of the Bombfy B’s foot pockets.

How to Proceed:

1. Start with creating an Executive Summary and Financials. Consider the items below in creating them; they will become living documents that you can refine as you learn and implement. Convince yourselves that you have a plan that is realistic and that you are confident you can execute.

2. Determine the $$ volume of sales that would need to be done in the winter 2019/2020 season in order for it to earn them enough to do this full time

3. Based on (2), determine which strategy or strategies to pursue that are most likely to lead to this level of success.

4. Put plan together to execute selected strategies.

5. Licensing deal(s) in place `by end of July.

6. Testing and refinement of manufacturing, packaging, ordering and fulfillment systems - April and July

7. Finalize quantity and number of SKUs of each to order by early August

"Round 2 of Ready, Fire, Aim"" of my Adventures in Capitalism (through propelling young student-entrepreneurs into their own business) started with my invitation to the Quarterly Dinner and next morning's Advisory Board Meeting of SDSU's Lavin Entrepreneurship Center. The Lavin Center is generously supported by both the Lavin Family of Alberto Culver Fame and the Zahn Family of the Moxie Foundation. The picture below is from that dinner in early December.

PJB III

Since that kind invitation, I have met with and interacted extensively with a number of individuals that I met that evening and the morning afterwards. In addition to replicating my "Ready Fire, Aim" Program from 14 years ago at ASU's Barrett Honors College by helping the BomfyB.com founders, I have already had my "Discovery Call" with a second graduate of the Lavin Entrepreneurship Center's wonderful Program and am "templating" that process to help any and all student-entrepreneurs from the 200 students who may need capital and mentoring to take their student projects to market with the greatest chance of success.

Perhaps an even greater help that I may be for SDSU's Lavin Entrepreneurship Center is my independent process of raising much needed donations to the school and the Program, engineered from my first stint at treaching entrepreneurship in 2005 and spelled out on a recently published article on the link below. Our "beta test" with the first potential benefactor is in-process as we speak and poses to generate millions of dollars on behalf of this worthy cause.

Charitable Fundraising

In short, I'm back with "Ready, Fire, Aim" Round 2.

UPDATE

Carlos Cortes, Co-Founder of Bomfy B. , Paid Media Manager at Captura Group

January 10, 2019, Carlos worked with Peter in the same group

“In such a short amount of time of meeting Peter through a mentor, he has helped myself and business partner more than we could have ever asked for. Along with the many ventures that he has going on, he is on a mission to help the next generation of entrepreneurs get their foot in the door and start making their dreams become a reality. Peter has opened up his network to us without hesitation and has already opened many doors for my company, Bomfy B., and we're just getting started. If you are a young entrepreneur and want to take that next big step in getting your venture off the ground, please do yourself a favor and get into contact with him! “

Cooper Lopez, Instagram Expert, Jumper, Media Account Executive, Content Management & Social Media Strategy, Co-Founder of Bomfy B.

January 10, 2019, Cooper worked with Peter in the same group

“My business partner Carlos and I were introduced to Peter through one of our mentors from San Diego State University when we were looking for experienced entrepreneurs to help us take our business, Bomfy B, to the next level. Not only is Peter currently helping us out with funding for our business, but he has also taken us under his wing, introduced us to several strategic partners, and become a new mentor to our business. Anyone one starting a business or involved in entrepreneurship in San Diego should definitely add Peter to their network and reach out if they are looking for ways to fund their startup.”

I was thrilled to receive these two heartfelt Linked In Recommendations of the first two (of hopefully many more) Lavin Entepreneurship Center grads. There are three more Lavin grads currently in the queue and we are systematizing the process of "Intake and Processing" for what we expect to be a burgeoning pipeline of young entrepreneurs seeking funding and mentorship for their student business projects.

To meet this demand, I have been working with UCSD's Director of Internships and am begining my interview process for filling the ranks with their very bright young people from both the Stateside and International students. I hope to work with SDSU's Internship Program too.

Follow the "Adventures in Capitalism" of Peter J. Burns III at www.peterjburns3.com.

[absentinquiries]

AbsentInquiries Title Masterpost Part 2, Page 4: The Page

WR: Since today’s posts are both going to be fairly text-heavy, allow me to add some humor to this one. It’s mildly silly that the title of this post is “Page 4: The Page”, without the context that will undoubtedly spill over below. Please have a giggle at that before we drop into seriousmode. “^_

WR: Okay, with the giggles over with, I can easily start by pointing out the very first thing that comes up: “(1)A page or page boy is traditionally a young male servant...” - There’s the highest of odds that Pages are either Male-dominant, or Male-exclusive. Good that it’s right there at the start, gives me better room to focus on other tidbits.

WR: “(1)In medieval times, a page was an attendant to a knight, i.e., an apprentice squire.” - this is probably the main definition I’m going to be using, as it’s the one I’m most familiar with and can easily relate to Pages as a Class, but I’ll do my best to use other iterations of classical Pages too.

WR: “(1) A young boy served as a page for about seven years, running messages, serving, cleaning clothing and weapons, and learning the basics of combat.” - I want to emphasize these - they work for a long time, doing what is basically doldrum tasks, but he /is/ learning all this time. It is a long time spent of ardor, but it helps to shape him.

WR: Continuing on; “In return for his work, the page would receive training in horse-riding, hunting, hawking and combat - the essential skills required of adult men of his rank in medieval society.” - This is also noteworthy to point out, as it means the Pages’ labor is also paid in kind by more opportunities to gain experience...Experience that is /essential/. (of course, this is all mostly relating what everyone already knows about Pages, but bear with me.)

WR: “At age fourteen, the young noble could graduate to become a squire, and by age 21, perhaps a knight himself.” - nothing duly interesting to note, but it does paint a good conclusion to the overarching Quest of the Page. I’ll also take the respite here to say - Knights and Pages are both Passive Classes. Thankfully, the Sylph didn’t shake things up that much. “^_

WR: The second definition of page - the household page(1) - often did light odd-jobs and stood in attendance of guests while dressed up fancy. They were apprentice footmen(2) - caretakers of carriages and couriers who moved ahead to prepare a destination for their lord’s arrival. - that...Is a pretty foreboding thought, actually. It has some serious implications, but since it probably dawns on everyone who’s reading this immediately, I needn’t discuss it too much further.

WR: Another thing to note is this; “(2)Footmen were expected to be unmarried...” - looks a little familiar, right? The same statement was raised for Maids and likened to their Romantic natures - either they were open and never held a solitary partner, generally closed, or tried and failed. I’d have to say that Pages, to a similar degree, have a pretty rough time working with relationships. Just, ah...Well, look at them.

WR: Thankfully, that actually mostly wraps up what needs to be said about the pre-SBURBan Page, which means I can move on to the other stuff.

WR: So, Polarity - Pages have a tendency to serve, and, while I once penned them as being the Passive counterparts to Maids, I now understand them as Passive counterparts to Heirs. In terms of personality, Pages are, at base, socially difficult, and in most avenues have a rough start acclimatizing to anything. They’re friendly, but bashful and often very closed off. They’re fairly good thinkers and doers, though, which is unique for Passive players.

WR: Around the early-middle stages, Pages will likely still struggle with confidence, believing their successes or good natures to be edge cases or the wrong perspective. They have an easier time adapting to new things, and generally prove to be average-to-above average in terms of overall capabilities. Near the later stages, they start to gain more confidence and ability, often surpassing some of the more generally competent players who don’t need quite as much time to get used to things.

WR: But, in the shorter terms, Pages are very closed off emotionally, bashful, but practically capable of applying themselves to everything, and have issues with confidence in different types across their “arc”.

WR: Now, the part I’ve been dreading. Powers. For the longest time, Pages have been few and far between, their powers never seen until recently, and even then it was completely absurd, out-of-control, and nothing could actually be gleaned from it besides the need to ask “what the fuck?”.

WR: One thing that’s certain is that Pages in general start off without their Aspect. Not even a smidgen of it. They also of course gain their Aspect over the time that they work on the overarching quest that is their Class, but that still doesn’t answer what it is they can do.

WR: Given that our only real source of information about Page powers is the dead session wherein an iteration of Jake exploded into a supernova of Hope energy - well...it says a lot, and a little at the same time.

WR: But, continuing on from my talk about Heirs a few minutes ago, I propose that Pages start off without their Aspect and build it up (in contrast to the Heir having it all the time and just needing to learn to use it), but when they manage to gain the upper echelons of power, the Page gains wildly more amazing abilities - largely unbound, much like the Heir, but, with a notable difference:

WR: Where the Heir has a power cap that makes them potentially weaker than other Classes but the availability to tune their powers to become more versatile than them, Pages have an obscene ignorance to the concept of “power capping”, but next to no ability to refine it beyond a rough idea of a spell or power. Completely artless and without finesse, a Page’s powers are practically just massive explosions, exceeding the power of even the strongest Classes - Princes, Bards, and...Much as I hate to say it, even Lords.

WR: It’s not all that great an explanation of power, but it is a good place to stick with, I believe.

WR: This has been...Needless to say, a very exhausting effort to compose, and I’m glad I’ve got this recorded and queued at the end of the day. Hopefully the next two Classes I choose are ones I’m more familiar with. <_

WR: Whatever the case, I hope this provided some good information about the otherwise unknown and potentially overstated Pages. Although, to be fair, I have a poor habit of understating Pages, so I hope this does them justice and serves to at least work against what I normally say.

[osuqat]

The QAT Gazette #6

Hello!

Even though I recently wrote about the osu!taiko, osu!catch and osu!mania Beatmap Nominator test results and feedback (with some assistance from OnosakiHito and Feerum), it’s been a busy few weeks for us here at the Quality Assurance Team, so I wanted to bring you all up to speed with a more general-purpose article as well. In a truly perfect world, I would also be calling on one of my colleagues to present their much anticipated discussion articles, but with the pressures of exam season, sadly real life priorities have to take the front. This would not be a major issue had the stars not aligned against me, with Feerum’s computer tragically suffering from an acute case of not turning on. Therefore I’ll be filling in with another informative interlude for you guys.

With the welcome new additions of Cryptic and Doyak to the team, as well as the recent retirement of some of our old stalwarts DakeDekaane, Desperate-kun and Fycho, it’s obvious that the working fields of the QAT have changed quite significantly since our original post back in August of last year! Therefore, in order to clarify who’s doing what in the modern age, let’s take a little update as to the current state of affairs:

Beatmap Nominator Tests

Beginner osu!standard: Cryptic, Irreversible, Mao

Advanced osu!standard: Mao, Okorin, pishifat

osu!taiko: Nardoxyribonucleic, OnosakiHito

osu!catch: Deif, JBHyperion

osu!mania: Blocko, Feerum

Metadata & Reports: alacat, Doyak, IamKwaN

Spotlights (Ranking Charts): Kurokami, OnosakiHito

Ranking Criteria: Okorin, pishifat

General Assistant: Cryptic

Additionally, with the exception of alacat and Kurokami (who will focus solely on metadata checks and Spotlights, respectively), all of the above listed team members now lead their own subdivision of Beatmap Nominators, working closely with them to promote team-working and communication. After reviewing recent feedback from the Beatmap Nominators, each of these subdivisions will compete with one another, with the highest performing groups receiving a reward.

We have welcomed a brand new wave of 14 Beatmap Nominators into the world! As mentioned in the opening part of this post, the conclusion of Beatmap Nominator tests for osu!taiko, osu!catch and osu!mania produced many fruitful results, with some returning after absence, others confirming their proficiency with a second mode, and others still crossing into the land of bubbles and yellow badges for the very first time. If you’re even passingly involved in the mapping and modding scene, no doubt you’ll be seeing these new and old faces around, so please give them all a big congratulations and a warm welcome! Whilst a review of the recent series of tests can be found in my previous article, new opportunities never cease - osu!standard Beatmap Nominator tests are currently underway also, so expect our family to grow even further very soon!

The Ranking Criteria subsection has seen many new recent additions up for discussion. As well as additions and amendments to the osu!standard general and specific subsections, there are now Skinning and Spread-related proposals up for discussion. The latter in particular will aim to resolve a number of current deficiencies in the General and Mode-specific Ranking Criteria sections which have become apparent in recent months, such as acceptable difficulty naming, how drain time is calculated, and the way in which hybrid-mode and collaborative mapsets are handled. If you want to help shape the future of our fair game, be sure to check those discussions out here!

Ask us anything!

Will BNG / community members be given the chance to apply for the QAT in the same way as the GMT from a few months ago? 

Presently, the GMT is a sizeable group encompassing a number of different roles, from technical support staff to language moderators and osu!media creation, so it is almost always “open” to new members who fit the criteria. The QAT on the other hand is a relatively small team with a specialised work field, so we will only look at recruiting people once there is a need to do so, such as replacing a departing member or leading a new working field.

What does it take to join the QAT? 

Despite the previous answer, this doesn’t mean we’re not constantly looking for potential future members. Where the need arises, members will be promoted from the BNG (typically from the Advanced Tier in osu!standard) after demonstrating consistently high standards of activity and proficiency in their field. Maturity, integrity and the ability to lead and motivate are also essential qualities for anyone in a supervisory position, but a willingness to take proactive steps towards improving the community in some way should also not be overlooked.

What is the point of mapping if anything you post isn't going to be noticed by anyone? 

If you never try, you are guaranteed to never be noticed! Everyone has to start at the bottom, but with hard work and dedication, they can climb to the top all the same, from taking your first steps in mapping and modding, to becoming an Elite Mapper or joining the QAT. This is a great aspect of a community-driven game such as osu! - each and every member has the potential to bring something new and exciting for all others to enjoy. If you want something to happen, make it happen. Don’t wait for the change - be the change.

Hopefully these answers give you a little insight into how the Quality Assurance Team recruits members and what it takes to earn our recognition. If I didn’t answer your question this time around, don’t worry! I may revisit unanswered topics in a later issue. That being said, keep the comments rolling in and your ideas might just help shape the future direction of not just the QAT, but osu! as a whole!

It’s time to call curtains on this issue of the QAT Gazette, but we’ll be back real soon with some more news and reviews. If any of my colleagues survive their ordeals with exams, technological malfunctions and the slew of Beatmapping Contests, World Cups and other community events currently ongoing, you can expect some more hearty discussion sessions from them also, so stay tuned!

Thanks for reading!

—JBHyperion

[dino0316]

EXCLUSIVE:

Eden Hazard: "I want to show that I am made for Real"

(Words: Jürgen Geril / Photo: Kris Van Exel)

Fasten your seat belts. This is your captain speaking. The Red Devils kick off their European Championship in Russia tonight and then it is Eden Hazard (30). Not quite fit yet, but soon the captain who can lead us to the European title. Despite a season full of injuries, Hazard allowed us an exclusive interview in which he got quite personal. "My sons are very sorry if I can't play with them in the garden due to injuries."

Eden Hazard

The injections I got in both hips work, but I will never be 100 percent in that first match

You don't just arrange an interview with Eden Hazard. At Real Madrid he continuously held off the boat. Because Real is a world team that does not hand out its stars on a tray, but also because Hazard was injured more than fit and received a lot of criticism. Then you are not always in the mood to talk. At the Red Devils, the captain excelled in his absence for 17 months.

But a conversation is possible during this European Championship preparation. That is, if we can present a negative Covid test. So, one day after we let such a Swiffer stick tickle our eyeball, we sit down at Hazard's table. Eden slumps sprawled under a parasol. “During such preparation, I do have some free hours,” he says. “Okay, sometimes I play cards with teammates, but Mertens and co. don't always like it when I join. (grins) I'm not very good at it and then I cheat to tease the others. Creating atmosphere, huh. Fire your questions.”

Eden, there's been so much speculation about your thigh injury. You indicated that you will never be one hundred percent fit for the opening match. What about now? Can you play against Russia?

“The desire to appear at the kick-off is, of course, there. I can play a good match without training a lot, but – honestly – I don't want to start just to start. The good feeling in my legs will return and the injections I received in both hips work, but I will never be 100 percent in that first match. Even if I just come in, don't expect me to make the difference against Russia right away."

You played only 9 minutes against Croatia. Don't you need net matches to grow into your best form?

“I get better when I can play one, two, three matches in a row. Then the ball feeling returns and the rhythm returns, but I don't want to force it either. If I have to be more patient, so be it. Fortunately, I am not the only one in Belgium who can decide a match. We have so many good players who can score.”

What I wonder: is there no mutual competition among the Devils who is now the greatest world champion? You, De Bruyne, Lukaku,...?

“We don't participate in such games. The ranking is clear, isn't it? When it comes to passing, Kevin is the best, no one can finish better than Romelu, Doku is the sprint bomber and Thibaut Courtois is the best with his hands. Everyone has their specialty and that's what makes us so good. Where am I? I'm hanging in there. I'm good at everything, but I'm not the best at anything. I am a good mix.” (grins)

You say you don't want to force against Russia. Did you do that at Real Madrid? For example, you played in the Champions League against Mönchengladbach after two group training sessions.

(hesitating) “With all those injuries I forced once, yes. I had already been out twice and felt pain again during training. I thought to myself: This is no longer possible. If I now indicate that I am in pain, I have to stop for another two weeks . So I was silent and continued. At Chelsea I often played football with discomfort. Stiffness, a kick I got,... Once warmed up, it went well and in seven years that never led to major injuries in England. Unfortunately, at Real it was the other way around. The next day: Bam, more pain. ”

It all started with that kick by Meunier in the Champions League in 2019. Then you started having problems with that plate in your ankle and since then you have had one muscle injury after another.

“Ah, I played with that picture for two years at Chelsea without hindrance. It's just hard to understand. I do everything I can to not get injured, work hard in the gym – which is really boring – and then a new injury often followed. Bad luck. Hopefully that period is behind me now, because I've had it with it."

Belgium knows you as a cheerful French, but your eyes are dimmed.

“I'm still the same, you know. I still have fun, but I can't say I'm happy. That's only me when I can have fun on the field. That has not happened in the past two years at Real. If you have one or two injuries, you can easily turn the switch. You rehabilitate to come back stronger. If it's five, six, seven injuries, it's much more difficult mentally. But I continue. It's not that I'm 36 years old and can say enough is enough. I also get a lot of support during such periods. The whatsapp group with my parents and my brothers Thorgan, Kylian and Ethan does not stand still. My wife and children are also there. Although my sons find it especially bad because I can play football with them less in the garden.”

Are your four sons – Yanis, Leo, Samy and Santi – addicted to playing soccer with their daddy?

“We often play football. Then they try to play a ball through my legs and if they succeed, that's great. That's football. But for now I gate them more often than they gate me. My kids are starting to get it, because now they are constantly defending with their legs closed. They're not bad, but it's too early to tell if they have the talent of the Hazards."

Do they play with the youth of Real Madrid?

“No, Yanis and Leo play together in a team close to our house, Samy just started training there and the youngest is still too small. They should play football for fun. If I can, I'll look, but then I'm not constantly giving directions. That's the coach's job."

We don't really see a trainer in you later on. Not at a professional level, anyway.

“Never say never, but for now I share your opinion. I would be a bad coach. One that says: Grab a ball and do something fun with it . I don't like tactics. If we have an hour of video analysis, as a professional football player, of course I pay attention. You can always learn something, but it's not my favorite activity. I also watch less and less football on TV. Not to the Belgian league anyway, unless my brother Kylian participates at Cercle. In Germany I follow Thorgan at Dortmund, but for the rest? I am more concerned with my family.”

Do your children empathize with you?

“They are fans of Real, but they don't follow every match. During this European Championship they will support the TV with Belgian shirts. It's double. The more we win, the longer they have to miss their daddy, but okay: the boys hope that Belgium becomes European champion and above all that I am fit and healthy on the field."

What do you think of the statement that your injuries are due to stress? At Real you span your muscles through the nerves.

“ N'importe quoi . bland. Of course there is pressure. Real Madrid is the biggest club of all. When you play football there, people expect you to be the best in the world. But why should I be stressed? It's my dream club from when I was little. I looked at Zidane with admiration at Real...”

You are the record purchase of 120 million. Some argue that Chelsea got even more.

“I don't know how much it was myself. Hundred million or more? I am not concerned with money. I only think about the field.”

You also had to succeed Cristiano Ronaldo at Real.

"That is something else. I am not Cristiano Ronaldo. Ronaldo scores 60 to 70 goals in a year, I score 60 to 70 goals in seven or eight years. We are different. For example, I will never jump that high above a defender to head in a ball. Imagine. But I did not enter Madrid with the idea: I have to be the new Ronaldo here . I just have to be Eden Hazard.”

According to our analyst René Vandereycken, they are still not playing you well at Real. They should – according to him – also give you the ball if there are two men in your back.

“It makes sense that they don't, because I haven't shown anything at Real yet. If we play a match tomorrow and I dribble from between three players, they're going to play me more like that. Then confidence grows. That's how it was at Chelsea, that's how it is at the Red Devils. The European Championship can also help me show myself to Real Madrid.”

So are you one hundred percent sure you'll stay?

“Yeah, it didn't even occur to me for a second that I better leave. I'm not going to leave there a failure. I just want to prove that I am made for Real Madrid. The past two years have been difficult. I was in Madrid without actually being in Madrid, you know? And if I did play, it was difficult because of Covid. We played in that small stadium on the practice complex without fans, while I just signed to play football for a full Bernabeu. I hope that the works on our stadium will be finished soon and that the stands will fill up again. I need that.

Real remains another universe. A kilo too much or a bad match and you will be killed. The press and the fans are on your skin. Bale once said: 'When I come out, I immediately have fifty fans behind me.'

“Criticism is part of Real, just like the attention of the fans is part of it. Okay, luckily I live in a closed neighborhood where you don't just drive in. If the supporters could ring my door, it wouldn't be possible. (laughs) But I don't mind signing autographs elsewhere. I try to live a normal life.”

Fans and press were outraged when you laughed and joked with Chelsea players Mendy and Zouma after the elimination in the semi-finals of the Champions League.

“That was wrong, yes. What Mendy and Zouma said wasn't even funny, but I've played with Zouma and I know Mendy through the door. It's always nice to see friends again. Although I understand that I have damaged the image of Real Madrid. Everyone thought I didn't lose sleep over that shutdown, but nothing could be further from the truth. Deep down I was very disappointed. If there was one match I wanted to win, it was against my ex-club Chelsea at Stamford Bridge. I was shocked when I saw those images.”

How did your teammates react?

“I got some phone calls, but honestly: it's a very nice group of players. That is also one of the reasons I absolutely want to stay: the good atmosphere. You know, when I first stepped into Real's dressing room, I was impressed. That was my favorite all-star club, but guys like Sergio Ramos or Karim Benzema are just regular guys. The Spaniards sometimes take the whole group to quiet restaurants.”

Hold on... Eden Hazard was impressed?

“Yes, but I'm fast, you know. When a new talent arrives at the Red Devils, I quickly think: Wow, he can teach us something . Jérémy Doku, for example. What he shows in training speaks for itself. His dribbling, his acceleration.”

Do you recognize yourself in Doku?

“It is a dear guest. He's even faster and more explosive than the young Eden. Jérémy integrates well, but that is not difficult with these Devils. We grow older in age, but our minds remain young. I am still eighteen years old in that regard. I'm not saying that the previous generation of Devils was surly and unkind, but this core is more open to youngsters."

Have you asked Dries Mertens what it is like to work with Carlo Ancelotti? He will be the new coach of Real Madrid.

“Ancelotti has already messaged me. He told me that he is very happy to be coach of Real Madrid again, but that we will have time to talk at length later. He wished me luck at the European Championship. I didn't have to ask Mertens how Carlo Ancelotti is, because at Real there are still many players – Benzema, Modric, Kroos,...– who remember him from his previous visit in Madrid. They all say that Ancelotti is fantastic. A good person who knows how to play and lead a group. Last season Real won nothing, next season we want to take revenge.”

With Zinedine Zidane, your great patron left Real Madrid.

“I called him. It hurt me to see him leave. We had two years where we could show beautiful things and it failed. That is a disappointment to both him and me. Everyone knows the relationship I had with Zidane. He used to be my idol. Because of him I started to watch football with admiration. That goal he scored in the Champions League final against Bayer Leverkusen... Everyone knows that volley. Well, hopefully one day I will score such a beautiful goal. I must try that. Maybe at the European Championships.” (laughs)

Another great idol will return to the Red Devils: Thierry Henry.

“That's great. Better to have Titi with us than to have him elsewhere. A former player like Henry means an added value. He has experience in tournaments, won the World Cup and the European Championship. There are few ex-football players who have such an appearance.”

In what area does he help you the most?

“Actually, he doesn't talk much. Henry radiates calm, romps around the terrain and occasionally gives tips: Why don't you walk like that? There is the free space... He has a special aura. It is good for us that such an icon is now back in our staff. Moreover, it frightens the opponents. If we had to play against a team with Zidane as coach tomorrow, we immediately think: oh la la .”

Are we the favorites to win the European Championship?

“No, Belgium is a team that can win the European Championship, but the big favorite is France. They are world champions and still have the same team, supplemented by some new strong players such as Benzema. They are the team to beat. We are an outsider.”

Final question. You never played in Belgium. Will we ever see you play football in Belgium like Kompany did at a later age?

“All due respect to Kompany. He took Belgian football to a higher level, but I don't see myself playing in the Belgian league. I have been living abroad with my family for years: seven years in London and hopefully five years in Madrid. Returning with the whole family seems complicated to me. After my career I may live in a remote place. Laid back. But believe me: I still have five or six great football years ahead of me.”

(X)

[ashleybabcock1995]

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