#teacher was absent so we had a vacant class

[lutheban]

Based of this post, seemed too in character for me not to do it

[omigiry]

Giving them Hand Massages

Headcanons with the setters

ry’s notes: This is my first headcanons (no one asked but I delivered), and I actually had this in mind because, who doesn’t like hand massages? enjooyy ~~  ♡ ♡ ♡

━━━ 𝙆𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙮𝙖𝙢𝙖

He would be too shy to ask, but he would look intensely at you. Poor boy doesn’t know how to vocalize what he wanted.

Once you got the message, you would grab one of his hand and start massaging it.

He would lean his full body on you as he relaxes when you press on a pressure point.

“Kageyama stop drilling holes on the back of my head.” You called out at him, you were picking up some balls after you helped him practice.

“S-sorry.” He said and averted his gaze as a blush forms on his cheek from getting caught.

“Wait for a while, I’ll massage your hands after this okay?” You turned to him and smiled. He nodded vigorously and would start cleaning up the court faster.

You were both resting outside the gym, he was leaning onto you as you massage his right hand first. He would hum in approval when you press on the right spot. He would stare at both of your hands and watch as you do it.

━━━ 𝙎𝙪𝙜𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙖

Gets pouty to get you to massage his hands.

He would come up you and directly ask you that he wants his hands to be massaged.

He would massage your hands in return too though.

“(y/n).” He came up to you with a pout when break started.

“Alright. Sit down.” You said. He pulled out the chair that was available and did as you ordered, he would stretch his hands out on your desk asking for you to begin.

“Maybe I could charge you for this. My skills and time should be charged, by how high it is demanded it wouldn’t be cheap.” You joked.

“I’ll pay you with warm hugs.” He says back.

“It would take more than that.” You continue to tease him to see if he would get whiny and would actually stop in the middle of it.

He didn’t get whiny, but instead he would look at you with an expression you can’t resist and you give in. He would also not neglect you and would return the favor, you always complain that your hands are getting cramps in a joking manner, but he knows that you needed one too as much as he needs it.

━━━ 𝙊𝙞𝙠𝙖𝙬𝙖

This one is so needy. Much more pouty than Sugawara, would honestly whine.

He wouldn’t ask directly but once he calls your name after practice you know what the boy wants.

He would also asks you to massage his hands during lunch break since he loves it so much.

You were trying to avoid Oikawa during lunch break so that you could rest your hands. You were writing an essay before the break and your hands are tired from writing a three paged essay by pen and paper since it was a classroom activity.

But of course you failed at hiding when you heard Oikawa calling you.

“There you are!” He said and sat down next to you with Iwaizumi following.

“Oikawa, not right now please.” You tried to negotiate. “My hands are tired.”

He immediately pouted at your answer.

“Please, (y/n). Just for a minute.” He asked and clasped his hands together as his index finger was upright indicating the ‘one minute’ he was asking for.

“Oikawa.” You sighed, and he would whine in return.

“Oi. She said her hands are tired.” Iwaizumi called him off, but Oikawa still didn’t budge.

“How about this. Iwaizumi would give you a hand massage, and once your hands are okay, you’ll give me one.”

“Why am I suddenly dragged in to this?” Iwaizumi raised his eyebrow at his suggestion, but he wouldn’t refuse the suggestion though. You were someone they cared for.

“Fine.” You gave in so that Oikawa would stop pestering you.

━━━ 𝙎𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙪

He would deny that he likes your hand massages you give him.

Pride too high to even ask you. Acting all tough, but he needs it and wants it all the time.

You would sigh at him and grab his hand and start massaging it.

He ignores the fact that he was jealous of you giving a hand massage to Goshiki. He also wanted one, but he refused when you asked him. So he would just sit there as he watches you.

Once you were done with Goshiki you came up to him and asked him one last time. He would huff out a breath but would slowly stretch out his hand to you.

“Being in denial doesn’t suit you.” You teased and he would glare at you in return. “I’m not judging when you ask for one.”

“Whatever.” He just said as he leans his back on the wall and enjoys the massage you gave him.

━━━ 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞

He would come up you with a smile and lays out his hand to you. A signal that he is in need of your wonderful hand massage.

He would fall asleep as he relaxes and would lay his head on your desk.

But once you stop, he would wake up and grab your hands again saying that he needed more.

There’s a vacant hour in between classes since the teacher was absent. You were talking with your friends when Semi tapped you by the shoulders and sat next to you wearing a smile on his face.

You know what that smile meant. 

Your friends get used to this, after all they also ask for you to massage their hands.

“This is abuse.” You told him.

“It’s not when you willingly accept it.”

“I accept it because you wouldn’t stop poking me if I don’t.” You protested as you grab his hand that was waiting. You went back to talking with your friends as you massage his hand.

Semi leaned down on your desk and once he felt relaxed his eyes would slowly flutter close and his breathing became steady.

You felt his hands beginning to relax and go limp. You slowly put his hands down thinking that he is deeply asleep, but he feels your grip loosening and would grab your hand a sign to continue massaging it. You sighed and started pressing on his hands again.

━━━ 𝙆𝙚𝙣𝙢𝙖

Too shy to ask

But he would reach out his hands in front of you and you know what that means.

Really enjoys your hand massages and doesn’t want you to stop. To the point your hand starts getting muscle cramp.

Kenma’s hands were starting to cramp up from playing too much video games and all the practice they did.

You, Kuroo, and him were riding the train back home and he would lay his hand in front of you on top of your bag that was situated on your lap. Kuroo teased him for it and would Kenma would glare at him.

“Coming from someone who also likes it.” He retorted back at Kuroo.

Kenma would tell you to go on until you all get off the train which was 20 minutes more. You would complain that your hands are starting to cramp up too and would tell you to rest for a while then would ask to continue again.

“After all the service I offered to you, you better let me borrow your ps4.” You said.

“Not gonna happen.”

“I won’t give you hand massages anymore then.” You threatened him.

“Fine. I’ll invite you some time and let you play, but I won’t ever lend it to you.” He gave in. Once he experienced your hand massage it became an essential for him.

“Call.”

━━━ 𝘼𝙠𝙖𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞

Like Kenma, he’s too shy to ask as well.

When he starts to fidget with his fingers (which happens every time). You know that he is in need of hand massages.

Loves when you press on a pressure point and it releases the tension from his body. This boy overworks himself and is thankful that you’re good at this. Would entwine your hands together once you’re done and play with your fingers.

You were helping Bokuto and Akaashi practice since you were the next one taking over as the team’s manager once Kaori and Yukie graduates. After two hours of practice you called out for them to finish it. Bokuto was still fired up but Akaashi’s stamina couldn’t keep up anymore.

“We can practice more tomorrow, it’s already getting dark.” Bokuto unwillingly agreed at your comment, and since he understands that you’re a girl and it’s dangerous to be out so late.

Both of them decided to rest for a bit before cleaning up. You were all sitting at the gym floor with Bokuto talking about the plans he had after high school and the team he wanted to join in.

You saw Akaashi was fidgeting with his hands and you grabbed one. You started massaging it knowing that there’s some tense spots. It was something that was established between the both of you. You know when he needed it and he’s thankful that he doesn’t need to ask.

“Akaashi, I’m sorry for practicing too much.” Bokuto pouted.

“It’s okay, Bokuto.” Akaashi assured him. Bokuto offered that he would be the one cleaning up everything and let him get more rest with you.

Once you were done with both of his hands, he entwined your hand together with his and would rub your finger pads softly.

━━━ 𝙈𝙞𝙮𝙖 𝘼.

Also denies that he likes your hand massages, but he likes to indirectly ask you. Like he would randomly say that he doesn’t need it, meaning that he needs it now.

Once you started, he would not let you go until he is satisfied. Would grab your hand if you try to end it.

Would also whine honestly. Your hand massage is his kryptonite.

“All you gotta do is ask.” You said not looking at him in the eye as you sat on the floor crossed legs and scrolling through your phone. Osamu was in front of you tired of his brother whining.

“Psh. I don’t need things like those.” He acted tough, but he just wanted for you to massage his hands.

“All you gotta do is ask.” You repeated again, still looking at your phone. You felt him sat beside you, staring at you intently in hopes you would look at him.

“Just ask her. It won’t hurt your pride.” Osamu said.

“No. If I did I would admit that my hands are not strong enough to handle intense practices for pro leagues.” He mumbled something in the end along with the lines, ‘but it would be nice if y/n would massage it.’

You rolled your eyes and put your phone down and grabbed one of his hand to shut him up.

“If I hear one more sentence coming out from your mouth this would be the last time I would be doing this to you.” He pursed his lips and did as what you told.

[smellysluna]

The one where Luka is a clown | Fictober19 #1

Prompt number: 「 one 」“It will be fun, trust me.”

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Pairing: Luka Couffaine & [YOU]

Rating: T (Teens And Up)

Warnings/Tags: none

Summary: you’ve always had a crush on him bcs he simply was your type but nothing really happened unitl You & Luka get set up as project mates

Side note: I know that it’s the twelth of october but i just started it, i’ll write some more for fictober but i’ll use the prompts as i see fit bcs i’m just like that so yeah. anyways i hope this makes some kind of sense, its been a long time since i finished something i began writing. okay so i also wanted to write luka because there’s not many fics with him with an “x reader” tag. okay talk over, enjoy the story babes!!!!

"Hey."

I turned around in my seat and smiled. "Hi, Luka."

"So... how'd you wanna do this?"

I cocked an eyebrow. "Do what?" Luka shared an amused smile. "Oh!" I face-palm. "The project! Right." I picked up the notebook with my notes from my desk and slammed it on his desk. Then I rotated it in his direction. "This is how we're going to do it."

"Wow, you've really thought this through already."

I rest my face on my hand and smirk. "It's no coincidence that I ace my presentations."

"I guess I'm lucky then."

"More than you think." I straighten my back. "Okay, no funny business tho. You fuck up and I'll make you suffer all the way to June. Take a picture of them notes so you have a copy and have a slight idea of what's going on."

He puts up a half-amused smile, "this ain't my first rodeo."

"But it's your first bullfight, so keep up." He laughed and I bit my lip. I might've gone overboard. 

"I'll do my best," he assured in a soft voice. Holy shit. He's so mellow. As soon as I was sure he had a picture of my notes, I took his phone. I entered into his contacts and added my number then dialed myself. 

I show him the screen of my phone. "Now we have each other's numbers." He smiled before I turned around just in time for the teacher to get in. 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

I was watching dessert recipes on YouTube when I received a message from Luka. The popup appeared from an Unknown number which reminded me that I forgot to add him to my contacts.

"hey"

     "hi"

    "what's up?"

"i went through ur notes"

    "yeah?"

    "they're amazing, aren't they"

"u made those in class"

"how???"

"they're too good"

You sent an image:

Unknown sent an image:

"anyhow"

"i wanted to know when you want to get the project finished"

"i thought that you'd want to finish it asap"

"u look like you have a busy schedule"

    "i'm free whenever, really"

    "but i don't want to finish it in one go"

    "so we'll spend a couple of days on it"

    "if u dont mind that is"

    "btw you give me too much credit"

"right"

"it's fine, yeah"

"more time to clown around"

Unknown sent an image:

    "> AUDIO (laughter)"

    "IM DYING"

    "WHY IS THIS SO FUNNY"

"i took clown courses in my childhood"

    "where's the diploma huh?"

"wait, lemme look"

"wait"

    "ur serious???"

"photo(clown certificate)"

    "I CAN'T BREATHE"

"clown code: never joke about being a clown"

    "AND HERE I WAS"

    "THINKING YOU WERE THE COOLEST GUY AT SCHOOL"

    "BUT ALL THIS TIME YOU WERE JUST A CLOWN"

    "I WAS SO FOOLISH"

    "ur now officially added to my contacts as clown boy 🤡"

"coolest guy huh? ;)"

    "don't let it get to your head, clown boy"

    "as much as i'd love to know about your clown career, i have to go make dinner"

    "we'll talk more about it at school"

    "don't vanish on me"

    "i'll snap my fingers into Thanos' ass if i have to"

"right 😂"

At dinner, I couldn't stop thinking about Luka. We might've never talked much to each other but I always had the hots for him. He was just my type: tall, supposedly long hair for a boy, dyed hair, punk-like feel and especially (these just get me going) those black gauges in his ears. Anyways, I'd lie if I said I never got distracted in class because of the smell of his cologne.

"Thank you for dinner, [Y/N]," said my mom after she cleaned the table.

"Don't forget to do the dishes, love."

"Yes, Dad," I chuckled.

"We're off to bed, then. Goodnight, [Y/N]."

"Goodnight, mum. Goodnight, dad."

That night, I fell asleep thinking about how nice that chat conversation with Luka was.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

I groaned loudly when I got into class. I ran because I was late for geography. When I got to class, the lack of a teacher at the desk made me want to kill myself. My classmates were scattered around the classroom in groups, as usual when a teacher was absent. Done with life, I walk to my desk, drop my backpack and accommodate my face on the desk. Suddenly, somebody is standing next to me. But I really just wanted some sleep so my first intention was to ignore whomever until well, it's self-explanatory.

"Looks like someone spent all night thinking about me."

"What!?" I see Luka. Now fully energized and heart pumping, I stutter: "No, no. What are you even saying?"

He laughs and takes a seat on the vacant spot in front of me. He rests his arms on my desk. "I'm just messing with you, wanted to see the reaction I'd get out of you. I wasn't expecting to fully wake you up." He smiles broadly and I stare into his eyes.

Have you ever met that person, no matter who they are, their eyes are so enthralling that you just can't help but keep staring at them? These kinds of eyes just have something... Something I'm unable to describe. And when I stare at them, they're so glossy and shiny.

"I think you'd look amazing if you wore eyeliner."

"Huh?" Half of his face moves upwards in sync. "That's very random."

"I mean, yeah." I look away, fidget with my bracelet and then look back. "I just thought it'd bring your eyes out even more."

"Ooh," he exhales knowingly. "Because they're blue, right?"

I knit my eyebrows together. "No," I say offended. Had this boy never realized how nice his eyes are?

"Why then?" He asks and nods his head onto his arms.

"Well," I lick my lips, "I don't know." I shrug "It's not because of the color, which is beautiful just so you know." I caress my arm and try very hard to maintain eye contact, occasionally looking away. "Your eyes, I don't know, they just have something."

He smiles at my words, "look who's talking."

"Not a clown, that's for sure." He groans in a boyish way and it melts my insides so warm I almost let it show.

"You won't let it go, won’t you?" He lays defeated on my desk, arms sprawled.

"You did that to yourself." He hummed in a way that seemed a mixture of displeasure and annoyance. His long hair was sprawled in every direction of my desk. I could tell that he washed his hair either last night or this morning —it smelled so nice. Luka smelled really nice and I couldn't help but bite my lip to restrain myself from sniffing him all over like I was some kind of dog-bred. I started playing with his hair and it was so much softer than I expected it to be, it was dyed after all. He let a pleasurable groan slip through.

"Does this bother you?"

Luka abruptly opened his eyes and forced my head to rest on the desk as well. With very soft caresses he ran his hand through my locks and I understood what it was that he intended.

"What about you?"

I stared into his eyes for a moment and closed them, then resumed playing with his hair as he did the same. We were so close, I could hear his silent breathes. I wondered if this could be considered as cuddling. Honestly? I didn't care because I was enjoying it.

"Hey, guys, look at [Y/N] and Luka."

"Woah, when did that happen."

"Never thought [Y/N] liked that type of guy."

"You're kidding, right? Luka's definitely her type."

We spent the rest of the hour like that. Somewhere in between, the rest of the class noticed us but, frankly, we paid them no mind. But it made me anxious. Not because of what they said but about what Luka might've thought about it.

"I kind of like this," he whimpers softly as if scared he'd break whatever we had going on.

I agree with him softly, just as scared to ruin the mood.

When the bell rang, we hesitantly broke apart. Luka returned to his assigned seat behind me and then class started. The moments the teacher repeated subjects the class already went through, Luka played with the ends of my hair.

After the school bell rang for the last time that day, Luka approached me. He asked if I wanted to start on the project today. Luka was so cute while he asked. He didn't do anything particularly cute but the way he looked when he leaned on the wall had sent me flying. Obviously, I said that it was a good idea. Not desperately, of course, even though I wanted to grab him and steal him away. I kept my cool.

"What time?"

He grimaced to hide a grin. "I was hoping, like, right now?"

"Uh, well... On any other particular month, I'd agree and take you to my house. But we're getting reformations done so it's a very big mess."

"We can go to my place." He states like it's a universal fact.

"But all my shit's at home, and I'd want to empty my backpack, grab some money, etcetera."

"Okay, I get it. I can take you home and we'll head right over to mine?"

Even though I might pass out any moment out of pure embarrassment, I cross my arms in an 'X' in front of his face.

"No way that's happening, clown boy."

"What? Why?" He frowns.

"No way in hell I'm letting you drive me on your motorbike."

A small laugh escapes his lips. "You've never been on a motorcycle?"

I act displeased.

Luka laughs with a hand on his stomach. "You haven't!" I scowl and his laughter subdues. He waves his hands in front of him and apologizes for laughing. "I'll be careful, just for you." He assures.

"Even if I agreed... I doubt you'd have a second helmet. And we all know that police officer which has an obsession for the law."

"I got us covered on that one, I have two."

I stare at him. "You had this all planned out, didn't you?"

"No," he grins, "it just happens to be that I usually pick my sister up from her school."

"Oh, so she's gonna have to walk all the way back to your house. We can't let her do that, can we?" No matter how much I crush on Luka, anything that can get me out of sitting on that devil's contraption, I'd go with.

"I said 'usually', didn't I?" I can feel his smirk soaking right through me but in a much more softer tone he said "it'll be fun," and smiles "trust me."

It was his goddamn smile that convinced me to agree.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"I never knew you could live in a boat."

I looked around the main deck and, for some reason, I felt very lightweight and free.

"You don't like it?"

"The contrary, I love it!" I smile at him, "it adds to your charm."

Luka smiles back, "thanks."

Both of us walked inside the boat. I took everything all at once. You rarely get the chance to be inside a boat-home. But the most surprising thing was that it was stable —at least more than I thought.

"My room's the one at the end. Get yourself comfy —I'll be right there."

I bite the inside of my cheek. "Okay."

Once I get into his room, I relax and take a look around. I leave my backpack by the door and head straight for the most valuable thing to me in his room. Luka had one of the nicest guitar stands available on which laid the most basic electric guitar ever... but since looks can deceive, I pick it up.

I make myself comfortable on his bed along with Luka's guitar and a guitar pick I snatched from the wall. Without thinking twice, I started to play. It didn't matter to me that I hadn't plugged the guitar into an amplifier, this particular tab didn't need the magic of electricity. I suppose I should have asked first if I could play but it's too late now-

"That's 'Lonely Day', right?"

"Ah! Shit! Sorry!" I stood up hastily, the guitar pick went flying to the floor and I placed the guitar back where it was supposed to be. I turn to him to apologize, "I should've asked-."

Luka walks past me, grabs the guitar by its fretboard and puts the strap around himself. He shuffles around me and I was too confused to realize what he was doing. Then he hands me the guitar fully-tuned-connected-to-an-amplifier guitar. He lifts it by the fretboard again and hands it over to me as if telling me to take it. I stare into his eyes and do exactly that.

At that moment, we didn't need any words as I accepted his silent offer. I strum dumbly and then start fidgeting with the knobs on his amplifier. I bite my lip, it doesn't have as many options as mine and it's smaller than the one I have at home but I managed to get the right sound.

I started playing a song that I had played countless times and felt very confident. This moment was about impressing Luka and I was determined to blow him away. But the moment I started playing, I couldn't keep up the cool-girl act and grinned as I played around the room.

"Wow," he said amazed after I finished. "I never knew you played guitar, let alone that well."

"I'm amazing, I know," I wink.

"What did you play?"

"You don't recognize it!?" I gasp loudly. I put my hands over my heart. "Oh, my heart! It hurts! I have never been so hurt before!"

He holds back an embarrassed smile. "Guilty as charged."

"It's Crowd Chant, by Satriani," an exaggerated sad smile adorns my lips.

"Oh, right! The guy from 'Surfing with the Alien'!"

"Yes, that one! I love him, he's my idol!"

"He's good."

"Good? He's a GOD." I pout at him. "Your idol is Jagged Stone, that's why you have so little appreciation for him."

"Right."

I playfully punch him. "Just kidding."

"I thought I was supposed to be the clown around here."

I laugh very loud at that. "Yes! I will - haha - leave - ha - the rest to you."

During the week we were making the project we had gotten really close and we kept hanging out at each other's houses even when the project was long ago finished. I met his very cool mum, and his sister, who is physically exactly like him but both of them don't seem to admit it. And he met my small family too.

"I keep telling you! You do look alike! Genetics is no joke."

"I agree with [Y/N]!" Juleka's friend said one day over dinner. I can't remember what her name was but I always thought there was more than 'friends' between her and Juleka.

"We do not look alike; you both must be very blind," Luka jokes and I pinch him very hard. "Ow! Stop!" He pinches back.

"No! Luka! That was payback for yesterday!" He stuck his tongue out at me and I growl. "You're very mean."

He shrugs, "whatever you say, [Y/N]."

"Oh, 'whatever I say' it is, is it?" I crossed my arms and pondered without breaking my staring contest with Luka. "So if I said you're ugly, you'd agree?"

He smirked, "sure." I felt how triumph tasted and literally a second later I tasted defeat. "But it won't affect the fact that my eyes have 'something'."

I became a blushing mess and everyone at the table stared at us.

"So..." Juleka started, unsure. "Does that mean that [Y/N] confessed first?"

Juleka's blonde friend nodded, "I knew it!"

"I'm happy for the both of you," Mrs. Couffaine cheered with a very sweet smile.

There was a problem with their cheers which made Luka and me quite uncomfortable. It was wrong. Nothing had happened between us.

"It's...! It's not like that!" I attempt to defend ourselves and turn to Luka. "That's not what that was, right, Luka?"

He was looking in the opposite direction, scratching his crimson red neck. "I mean..."

I hide my face in my hands. "Oh my God, I want to kill myself."

"You know what? We will leave you both to work out whatever misunderstanding there might be, okay?" And with no answer, all three of them left.

"Let's go outside." With no warning, Luka took me by the hand and guided me to the main deck. It was chilly outside and I shivered but kept it to myself. "Here." Luka handed me his jacket.

"Thanks," I smile and put it on. It still smells like his cologne.

"About what Juleka said..." He avoided my gaze by looking into the river. "I might've told her that I like you," he turns to me and takes my hands, "a lot." Luka squeezes my hands out of nervousness. "The way you and I understand each other, without any words, just the music is enough. I feel like we're connected through it like we are the power-chords to any rock song."

My heart was melting, I always knew deep down that Luka's a very sweet romantic and he was killing me with his cuteness. I never knew you could look cute and hot during a confession. "Luka, I-"

"Remember when we sang 'Anything better than you'?"

"Yeah."

I recalled the memory. At the end of the song, when the part that goes "I can sing anything sweeter than you" our lips were so close... I couldn't stop thinking about it before I fell asleep every night.

"I wanted to kiss you so badly, but I just couldn't do it." Luka pulled me in and we were as close as that other time, my heart was beating so hard I could hear it in my ears. "Until now."

Luka kissed me and I kissed back. We kissed each other so desperately and I ran my hand through his hair. Fuck, how I loved the softness of his hair. We break apart for a kiss and stare at each other's eyes, dumbfounded. We kiss again except this time it wasn't as desperate. It was softer, a kiss only Luka could make amazing. Luka had thin lips but made up for it with the way he kissed. I wanted to kiss him more, I wanted more from Luka so I kissed him harsher. Then he broke apart the kiss, clearly taken aback from it.

My heart stopped, "I... I'm sorry-!" He cut me off by kissing me harsher than I did and I loved every second of his harshness. I began feeling his neck, his back, his chest and pushed myself closer to him as every second that passed it became hotter.

We broke the make-out apart. Our flushed faces appreciated the cool night breeze. We keep wrapped around each other. "I think we should get back inside."

I listened to his pounding heart through his chest. "Not yet, clown boy."

"Whatever you say, love."

[silveny-dreams]

50 for sokeefe? 👉👈🥺

50 for sokeefe!! Your writing is amazing!! - I’m combining these two requests since they’re identical; kudos to you two for having same brain energy when the probability of that was so low lol

50 - A kiss, followed by more that trail down the jaw and neck.

-

Keefe Sencen usually had an exceptional talent for getting out of the trouble he caused. It was something his friends were both exasperated by and jealous of, something he couldn’t really explain.

Usually.

Today, however, in his Universe class, Keefe was hoping--nay, begging--for divine intervention in any manner. Because he didn’t see how else he would wiggle his way out of this one.

“Just because you have a photographic memory, Mister Sencen, does not mean you cannot pay attention in our lessons,” Lady Belva said, her voice sharper than Keefe was used to.

Probably because he’d just zoned out for the umpteenth time this session. And it was probably this zoned-out state that made him reply, “Why, though? I know it all.”

He realized he’d probably crossed a line when he saw Lady Belva’s eyes flash and her eyebrows raise. Whoops.

“Then you will recall, with no issue, what I was last discussing? The date which coincided with the last syzygy of our solar system?”

Keefe opened his mouth, then closed it again. He hadn’t processed the date she’d said. His mind had wandered to a certain blonde student he’d had the outrageous good luck to be dating...

“Mister Sencen?”

“Syzygys, yes, yes,” Keefe sighed, mentally shaking himself awake to avoid getting into any further trouble with the teacher who usually liked him best.

It looked, however, like it might be too late, judging by the indignation on Lady Belva’s face. He probably shouldn’t have sighed. She fixed him with a steely eye, opening her mouth to chew him out.

And that’s when his way out of the inevitable detention coming knocked on the door.

Keefe and Lady Belva turned as the door opened a sliver and a familiar blonde head poked into view.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Sophie Foster apologized to her, then glanced over at Keefe. “Magnate Leto wants a word with Keefe, and he sent me for him.”

Oh, his girlfriend was an angel. An absolute angel. Keefe had never appreciated how angelic she was. She even looked the part, too, with her pink cheeks and innocent eyes and sweet smile. All that was missing was the halo.

Lady Belva’s jaw was clenched so tight Keefe wondered how she wasn’t breaking any teeth. He watched her take a slow, deep breath, eyes shut, and then turn to Sophie, composed.

“Very well. I am in no position to refuse the headmaster. We will certainly be continuing this lesson next week, Mister Sencen,” she said, shooting Keefe a frosty look as he quickly gathered up his things.

“Next week, then,” Keefe said, trying not to sound gleeful as he made his way to the door, giving her a mock-salute before diving into the hallway.

Sophie looked amused as Keefe grabbed her hand and started hurrying down the hallway. “Why did she look like she wanted to mount your head on a stake?”

God, he’d never wanted to kiss her more. In fact, he was going to go completely mad if he didn’t get the chance to properly show her his appreciation right now.

“You, Foster,” Keefe started, squeezing Sophie’s hand as he bustled down the hallway, glancing at all the doorways for a vacant room, “are an absolute lifesaver. Really. Your timing is godly.”

“That much I’ve surmised,” Sophie said wryly as Keefe caught sight of a nearby vacant classroom. “What I don’t understand is why we’re running to Magnate Leto’s office like we’re trying to escape the flooding of Ravagog.”

“Quick detour,” Keefe said, nudging open the vacant classroom door and ushering Sophie inside first.

She moved altogether too slowly into the room, and Keefe could feel her confusion hovering over her skin. “What kind of detour is an empty cl—”

Keefe spun her around and had his lips on hers before she could finish, nudging the door shut behind them absently with his foot.

He smiled into the kiss as Sophie froze in surprise, then relaxed into him just as quickly. Oh, he could do this all day. She laid her hands softly against his chest, kissing him back almost shyly, and it only fueled Keefe on. He rested his hands at her waist, gently guiding her further into the room, mouth never leaving hers.

Sophie stopped moving when she bumped into the back of a chair, pulling back just enough to speak. “What are y—”

“Saying thank you,” Keefe mumbled against her lips before kissing her again, moving his hands from her waist to rest on the back of the chair she was pinned against.

God, she was cute. He could feel her hesitance warring with her fondness as his mouth moved on hers, felt the little foothold her fondness won when her fingers curled almost reflexively in his cape.

He leaned back and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, trailing little pecks across her cheek and down to her jaw almost without thinking. It was too easy for Keefe to get wrapped up in Sophie Foster; far too easy.

He felt her hesitance push back a little bit as her mouth became free again.

"Keefe,” Sophie tried, but he was far too busy spilling kisses along her jaw to answer just yet.

Her hands tightened their hold in his cape when his lips reached her ear and trailed downward, along the expanse of her neck. He couldn’t help smiling against her skin. “Hm?”

“We, um,” she started, but Keefe grazed his teeth lightly over a spot on her neck and she paused, gulping. “We really...Leto really does need to see us.”

“Forkle can wait a few more minutes,” Keefe whispered, continuing to trail kisses along her neck. “Don’t you think, Foster?”

And when Sophie fully relaxed into him at last, he knew her answer was yes.

-

Thank you all for for your submissions! Requests are now closed.

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Two Moons

(Story Post)

On wolf nights, Nathan still spent his time at APID but now Sydryn had arranged for him to have a family suite, one big enough for the twins to stay in and for Dax to sleep over. His worry about having Dax and the twins with the wolf slowly faded as Dax often recounted to him the majority of what happens when he turned, and it was mostly nothing. The wolf fed the twins regularly when they were hungry, curled up with them when they were tired. For the most part, they all shared the bed, and Dax even got to snuggle in behind his big fluffy boyfriend to get sleep for a decent amount of time. The twins were starting to get into the habit of turning at the same time as Nathan, but it wasn’t a sure thing and Dax would have to take over when they were human, as the wolf, though gentle with them in any form, could not change diapers.

At two months old, Grace and Gabriel were hitting their development milestones on time. Both could hold their heads up while on their tummies. Both showed interest in toy and noises around them, though grabbing wasn’t yet a thing except mostly by accident. As pup and cub however, they were growing differently. Grace was developing ahead of her brother in that regard. As a pup, she was already starting to figure out some crawling techniques, and could be found chewing her dad’s ear sometimes. Gabriel on the other hand, though bigger than her, wasn’t at all mobile and constantly wanted to be feeding, always curled up at the teat. They were both eating and pooping machines, and slept a lot. The majority of the time, Nathan spent inside with the kids, while Dax would go out and get food and any supplies they needed. The pregnancy group still happened on Friday’s and if Nathan couldn’t bring himself out to their meeting room for whatever reason, the group would always swing by his room to check in and hang out. It had been a few weeks since Dari and Fay had their twins, so they were missing, but up until then they’d been in group regularly. Yori was absent a couple of weeks before as his family had gone on vacation over the school break, but he was back again and eager to talk about his trip with anyone who’d listen. Despite not going outside much, it felt like Nathan’s little family was very popular. Even APID E faculty dropped by after class times to see the babies. Because of the frequency of visitors, Nathan felt like he had seen everyone still rather regularly. Apparently not. One afternoon while he was feeding the twins, there was a strong knock on the door. Dax was taking a nap and was apparently exhausted because he didn’t even budge. “Coming.” Nathan sighed and set Grace down in her bassinet since she seemed to be done. He pulled a robe over himself and Gabriel and went to the door. Opening it, he found his dear friend Wano, violet in the face (blue blooded version of red in the face) and glaring him down. “Wano, what’s going on?” Nathan said. “Are you okay?” “Two moons,” Wano said. “Two and almost another moon and you never come to the cafeteria.” “Oh. Um, I’m really sorry…” Nathan said. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been a little occupied.” Wano nodded in acknowledgment. “But you still need to eat. You should’ve come eat.” “Dax’s been bringing in food mostly,” Nathan said. “But, I’m sorry Wano. I didn’t realise our mealtimes meant that much to you. But you could’ve always stopped by.” “Am I not? I’m stopping by now,” Wano stated. “You appear healthy. Are you in good health?” “Well, that’s debatable, but mostly, yeah,” Nathan said. “Could be worse.” “Good. And you’re not likely pregnant since humans typically take time off that to raise their young for a bit, yes?” “Well, most do, sure. Maybe not Dari…” “Is that another race?” “No, it’s a friend. Never mind.” “Male?” “Yeah, why?” Wano narrowed his eyes. “What height?” “Oh, I dunno… Pretty short… Why?” Wano nodded approvingly. “Only friend sized.” “Sure?” “Good. So, being as your womb is vacant…” Wano produced a fistful of flowers from behind his back and shoved them towards Nathan. “I’d like to propose a mating partnership.” Nathan blinked and stared at the alien man. “…You want to…marry me?” Wano nodded. “Mostly, interspecies relationship is frowned upon in my culture, however humans are the originators. Your species is a precious part of the universe. To mate with you would strengthen my familial bloodline.” “Um…” Nathan couldn’t tell if it was sweet or insulting. “I’m in a relationship?” “With him?” Wano pointed to Dax still lying in bed. “I could fight him for you. I’d win. He leaves himself easily vulnerable.” “He’s napping. You’re not fighting anyone. That’s not how this works. I chose Dax,” Nathan said. “I’m happy with my choice. And it sounds like you want someone to start a family with, and frankly I’m pretty sure I don’t want to get pregnant again.” “Well, um…” Wano faltered for a moment. “It does not need to be a mating partnership… I hear your species fornicates for pleasure. Our partnership could be that.” “Wano, I’m not available for partnerships,” Nathan said. “Though your proposal has been…flattering.” “Oh.” Wano rubbed his neck. “Are you sure? I’d be a great partner.” Nathan nodded. “I’m sure. Can you accept that?” Wano lifted his chin in acceptance. “Should I go?” “No, no… Well, I mean, you should meet the kids,” Nathan suggested. “Come in.” “Oh…” Wano rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe not. I need to sleep.” “Alright. Well, we’ll catch up later, right?” Nathan said. “Maybe not.” Wano looked down and away. “Oh.” Nathan frowned, realising maybe the rejection had been harder on Wano than he thought. “Listen, I get that this isn’t easy for you, but I still want to be friends if we can be. It just takes time.” “Time is not something I have,” Wano stated. “My appeal hearing is tomorrow.” “To…Tomorrow?” Nathan blanched. “Why didn’t you tell me before? I could’ve helped you prepare!” Wano shrugged uncomfortably and motioned towards the babe in Nathan’s arms. “Right… The birth…” Nathan rubbed Gabriel’s head thinking for a moment. “I’m sure you’ll do fine though. Do you have a counsel?” “My case worker…” Wano stated, though he didn’t appear happy with that. “Well, that’s good. The case workers here are pretty good…” Wano just stayed silent, looking at his feet. Nathan placed a hand on the alien’s shoulder. “…Did you want me to be there?” Wano shook his head. “You shouldn’t want to be. You are a parent now. That is likely more important to you.” “No, well, yes… But I have Dax. He can watch the twins while I’m there. I can be a character witness, if you want that. What is the reasoning behind your removal?” “Criminal record,” Wano said. “It’s stupid… As if punching someone is a crime.” “Yes, it’s called assault,” Nathan said. “It was all the way back from when I got here. A guy looked at me weird. I punched him in the face.” “Yeah, and you don’t see a problem with that?” Nathan asked. “I know now…” Wano crossed his arms. “That kind of staring wouldn’t fly on my planet.” “Well, do you want to go back there or do you want to stay on this planet?” “Of course I want to stay,” Wano huffed. “My planet is hell.” “Then you need to win this appeal,” Nathan said. “And I’m going to help you.” “No, I—” “I know. You don’t want to ask for help. But asking for help doesn’t make you weak,” Nathan said. “In fact, I believe people only grow stronger when we work together. So, come inside.” Nathan took Wano’s arm and brought him into the suite. The alien tensed up nervously, unsure how to react to Nathan’s forceful kindness. Nathan got him to sit down at a table and went to check his calendar. “I don’t have much time since I’m still in wolf cycle, so we’ll try to cram… Dax!” The thunderbird stirred on the bed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Hm?” “I’m sorry, but I need you awake,” Nathan said. “We have company.” “Company?” Dax got himself up into a seated position, leaning tiredly on his arms. He locked eyes with Wano. “Oh. You’re the broccoli guy…” “Broccoli?” Wano scrunched his nose. “Why would you associate me with green vegetation?” “Remember, when you met, we were debating about broccoli and cauliflower,” Nathan explained, getting his laptop with one hand while he continued to nurse Gabriel. The cub just couldn’t be satisfied it seemed. “Dax, I need to help Wano with his deportation appeal tomorrow so I need you to watch the kids.” “Right… I can do that,” Dax said, leaning over and checking on Grace in her bassinet. She was sound asleep for now. “Are you going to the thing?” “Yes. Do you think you can watch them then, too?” Nathan asked. “I know you haven’t been alone with them yet…” Dax gave a thumbs up. “We got this.” “Thank you, Dax.” Dax smiled to him and got up to grab his yoga mat. “You do that teacher thing you do so well and help this guy not get deported.” At the sight of the rolled mat, Wano got defensive. “What are you doing with that?” “I figured I’d get some stretching in before Grace wakes up and Gabriel sucks the last drop out of Nathan,” Dax stated. “Stretching?” Wano frowned. “What combat are you…um…anticipating?” “The battle that is parenthood,” Dax stated. “But actually, yoga is really good for your health. You don’t need to be facing combat simply to want to stretch.” “Well, once we win this appeal, you can teach Wano all about it,” Nathan said. “Wano, I don’t know much about immigration law, but what are you most worried about in this appeal?” “…I guess, just…” Wano licked his tongue. “I don’t like being asked many questions with many eyes watching… It makes me mad.” “Okay, I can help with that,” Nathan said. “I’ve had a lot of kids in my class who are nervous speakers and don’t like getting up in front of the class. And it’s even worse when you’re not prepared for questions. But there’s some strategies we can work with.” Wano nodded. “Okay…” “Alright, let’s get started.” “Thank you…”

[p-artsypants]

Longest Night (5)

Ao3 | FF.net

The next morning, Marinette awoke to a blaring alarm, again. Another day. But today there was no arguing with Tikki, no begging for a few more hours of sleep. She just got up, took her shower, got dressed and came downstairs for breakfast.

“Well, look at you, sunshine!” Sabine smiled at her. “Uh oh, what happened to your cheek?”

Marinette had practiced her lie and explained that she had fallen out of bed, and hit her cheek on the corner of her desk, and yes she dressed the wound all by her self, wasn’t she very clever?

“I’m proud of you,” Sabine said, as she wrapped up her breakfast. “You’ve taken this very well.”

Well of course. She’s very clumsy, she hurts herself all the time. Why would a scratch on the cheek be any different? “Thanks mom, love you!”

And she hurried off to school.

The moment she stepped on school property though, she was suddenly aware of wary glances in her direction.

That’s right, everyone hated her.

“Oh shit.” She said aloud.  

“You forgot about that, didn’t you?” Asked Tikki.

Marinette sighed, and continued on. “Yeah, but it’s nothing compared to what I’m actually worried about. Honestly, I’d rather deal with this.”

Tikki zipped back in her bag, as Marinette went inside and up the stairs.

Not a word of greeting. Not a friendly face. Not that she had been expecting one, of course.

In the classroom, Alya, Adrien, and Nino were all talking, and when she entered, they all gave her a surprised look.

“You came!” Adrien chirped.

“Yep.”

Alya turned away, still disappointed.

Nino saw the exchange, shrugged and stood. He gathered his things and moved to sit next to Alya.

Marinette looked at the vacant seat. “Can I...do you mind if I sit here?”

“No, please, be my guest.”

She sighed in relief. “Thank you, Adrien.” She set her book bag down and relaxed into the seat. Who knew how long she’d have it before Lila concocted another lie and get her moved?

“What happened to your cheek?” He asked.

“Uh, I fell. I got my feet tangled in my sheets and hit my face in the corner of my desk. I’m such a klutz.”

He gave her a look, one she was unfamiliar with, but then he just smiled and said, “I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Thanks.”

His cheeks tinged a slight pink. “I actually have a gift for you.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“Yeah, I was going to bring it to you at lunch, but since you’re here...” He dug around in his bag and pulled out a black portfolio, handing it to her. Inside were the most beautiful and high quality prints of various shoots. Some that were never even released to the public.

“Adrien…”

“You took down all those other photos, and I know you really do like fashion. So I put this together. We had some extra prints at home.”

She flipped through them, her cheeks warm. Then she closed it and hugged the book to her chest. “Thank you so much! This means a lot to me.”

He smiled in return. “Anything for my friend.”

The ‘f’ word didn’t even sting anymore, because it was such a sweet and thoughtful gift.

A few moments later, Lila came in. She looked at Marinette, and opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it and went to her seat. Possibly preparing the next stage of her master plan.

Marinette and Adrien talked briefly, as the bell wrung and Miss Bustier came in.

She noted the changed seating arrangements, and then stated, “Marinette, I’d like a word with you after class.”

Marinette sighed. “Yes ma’am.”

—

True to her promise, Marinette stayed behind while her classmates went to Ms. Mendeleiev’s class.

All except Adrien.

Miss Bustier looked between them, but didn’t ask him to leave. “Marinette, Lila told me something pretty concerning yesterday...”

“If it’s about me taking pictures of Adrien in the locker room, it’s not true. She’s lying.”

“Marinette...” Miss Bustier said with a reprimanding tone.

“I’m serious! I didn’t do it! She told the whole class that I did, and I had to get up in front of everyone and admit that I had a crush on Adrien! She told everyone first! Just to humiliate me!”

“I’m sure that’s not her intention. But she should have told a teacher first.”

Marinette groaned. “But I didn’t even take any photos! She’s lying!”

“It’s true, Miss Bustier.” Adrien added, bless his heart. “I even went through her phone. She had some pictures, but none of me changing.”

Miss Bustier sighed. “Well, Lila also had witnesses to corroborate her story. I don’t know who to believe.”

“That’s impossible! I didn’t do it in the first place! And yesterday she said she was the only one that saw me! Her witnesses are lying!” Marinette was growing more and more frustrated as the conversation went on.

Miss Bustier rested a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “Marinette, you’re a good kid. You always have done good and made sure there was justice for all. But this is it.”

It felt like the floor opened up beneath her and swallowed her whole. “W-What?”

“You’re becoming increasingly more absent from my class. And when you are here, you fall asleep half the time. Your grades are slipping, and Alya has had to fill in for a lot of your duties as President.”

“That’s—that’s just because I’m—I’m always helping in the bakery! I have to wake up early to help and—“

“Marinette, I’m sorry.” Miss Bustier smiled at her so sadly. “But if you’re this busy, then having you as President isn’t helping. We’ll find someone else.”

Her mouth felt dry, but her eyes welled up with tears and her vision blurred. “But…but I worked so hard…”

“I know you did.”

Adrien tried to say something, anything to help, but there was nothing to say.

Marinette clenched her fists and then stormed out of the room without a word.

Adrien was quick to follow after. “Marinette…”

She stopped walking and turned to him. “This is stupid!”

“I agree.”

“I don’t need this right now! I’m dealing with a lot! It’s not—It’s totally unfair!” Tears escaped. “I didn’t take any pictures…”

“I know you didn’t, Marinette. I believe you.”

“Are you sure? Because every time someone doesn’t believe me, I start to think that you’re only here for pity. That you’re trying to keep me from becoming an akuma.”

“I don’t want you to become an akuma,” he confirmed, “But I also believe you. You’re our everyday Ladybug. I still believe that.”

She rubbed under her eyes. “Thank you, Adrien. I’m sorry, if…if I’m causing you trouble.”

He waved her off. “Don’t even worry about it.” He placed a warm hand on her back and steered her towards the next class. “Once she trips up, you’ll have people lining up to apologize, and I’ll be right next to you, smiling.”

He opened the door for her, “After you.”

She grinned. “Thank you, sir.”

The second they stepped in the room, Mendeleiev was shouting. “Adrien! Marinette! So glad you decided to come to class! Where were you?”

“We were talking to Miss Bustier.” Adrien supplied.

“Oh that’s it? Do you have a pass then?”

Marinette paled. “Oh…no…I walked out before—“

“Detention. Both of you.”

“What!” They both cried out indignantly.  

“If you’re late for class, at least don’t lie about it!”

“I’m not lying!” Marinette cried out.

“Yeah, like you’re not lying about taking photos of Adrien.” Alix muttered under her breath.

“Miss Mendeleiev, Miss Bustier held us back after class, everyone heard it. Right?” Adrien asked the room.

No one came to their rescue.

Marinette was at her wits end. She balled up her fists and trembled. “Anybody else want to drop anything on me?!” She cried out. “Anyone else want to be my enemy!?”

We’re enemies now, Ladybug. You’re going to regret that for the rest of your short life.

She suddenly felt nauseous. “I need to go…”

“You’ve missed enough of my classes. If you don’t want to have another detention, sit down.”

“But—“

Chloe snickered, “Well, do you want her akumatized in the room, or outside?”

Marinette wanted to cry. “I’m not going to become an akuma!” She shrieked.

“Sit!”

So she sat, in the front of the room, where Nino usually sat. He had taken her spot again, and that was fine with her. If Alya wasn’t going to be helpful, then good riddance.

She glanced over to Adrien, who had his head in his hands and looked absolutely devastated. “You okay?” She whispered.

“I’ve never had detention before. My dad’s going to kill me…or at least pull me out of school.”

She exhaled, dejected. Today really was the worst day.  

But it’s not like it could get worse.

Right?

It came quite suddenly. A large boom from across the street. Debris and shrapnel flew across the street and crashed through the windows, ending class for the day.

“I would have thought Dupain-Cheng would have been our akuma.” Chloe said, just loud enough to be heard as they all evacuated the building.

Marinette ignored everyone, the teachers, her old friends, and even Adrien, and ran.

An akuma is exactly what she needed right now. Something to fight, something to direct her anger on, and for Marinette to disappear for a few hours.

She snuck into the bathroom and Ladybug escaped through the window.

—

Chat Noir was on the scene nearly the same time she was, surveying the damage.

“This one’s going to suck.” He said, plainly, his eyes focused on the giant gaping hole in the building.

“Yeah. You haven’t seen a glimpse of it yet, have you?”

“Nope, just heard it.”

There was another boom a few blocks away, and they both turned towards it.

But someone else was already running towards the sound.

Ladybug groaned. “Alya!”

The reporter perked up immediately. “Ladybug! The Akuma is this way!”

“I know! You need to get out of here!”

“No way! I need to get footage for the blog!”

She had it with her. Ladybug clamped her hand down on Alya’s shoulder and forced her to look at her. “Would you listen to me for once?!”

Alya shrank at the anger, completely blindsided by it. “Ladybug...?”

“Go home. This one is too dangerous. Just...please.”

Alya swallowed, hurt, but understanding. “Yes ma’am. I’ll go.”

Ladybug simply nodded and continued on.

Chat caught up with her quickly. “You having a bad day too?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Then let’s end this quickly so we can get some ice cream and sulk.”

She actually smiled. “That sounds awesome.”

Around the corner, they found themselves to the back of the akuma. A gargantuan man, with long stringy hair hanging down. Instead of arms, he had long, thick chains that dragged. And at the end of the chains, two massive iron balls scraped against the ground in place of fists.

Each step he took punctured a hole in the street.

“Shit.” Ladybug said under her breath.

The akuma stopped, hearing her speak and turned to her.

“Double shit.”

It didn’t say anything. No grand announcement or introduction, which was standard for most Akuma.

Instead, he simply grunted, and the left wrecking ball came barreling towards them.

Chat hooked her around the waist, and vaulted them away, leaving a crater in their wake.

“Okay, so he’s fast too. Great.” Ladybug huffed.

The next second, another wrecking ball came at them, prompting them to run farther away.

“Stay away from the buildings,” Ladybug reprimanded. “They won’t stop him.”

“Right.”

Ladybug dodged the next attack by slinging out her yo-yo around a flag pole, and then going over the akuma, careful to avoid the arch of his swing.

Ladybug landed next to the last crater, with Chat landing behind her shortly.

“I don’t particularly like being a fly when the akuma has such a permanent swatter, My Lady.”

“I agree.”

The wrecking ball was coming back around, being swung around sideways.

“But I barely have a moment to run, let alone think!” She wrapped an arm around him, and flung them both in the air. The smaller the target, the better.

They watched from above as the akuma stomped his way towards them, the ground shaking with each step.

“So he can swing the wrecking balls really fast, but he can’t run, or even walk quickly.”

“I can cataclysm one of the chains, so that way we only have to worry about one instead of two.”

“That’s as good of a plan as any.” With that, she released them to fall, just as the akuma was going to take a swing at the building they were attached to.

“Catacls—AUGH!” Mid shout, Chat was struck and went flying backwards and slammed into a building, hard.

“Chat!” Ladybug called out for him.

He laid on the ground, unmoving.

The akuma turned towards him, as the ground started shaking with each step. He wound up to bring his wrecking ball down on him.

“Don’t you dare!” Ladybug sent out her yo-yo, wrapping around the wrecking ball, but it didn’t stop it. Instead, she went flying, and collided with the building right next to her partner.

Her vision swam, as she tried to move. The akuma was coming their way, and she could feel the ground shaking. Turning to her side, she found her self alone, with no sign of Chat anywhere.

“Ng…Cha—?” She managed to choke out.

Turning back towards the akuma, she saw another figure there instead. They grabbed her arm, and began to drag her away.

“Where…?” She managed again, her head pounding.

“Shh…” said the figure, pulling her up short.

Ladybug would remember seeing her reflection in a pair of sunglasses, and a salty taste on her tongue, before she fell unconscious.  

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two Hundred Forty-Six: What He Found Out ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uzumaki Naruto ] [ SasuHina, vulgarity, student / teacher abuse ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

High school is a cesspool of rumors, lies, and drama. The lucky kids who keep their heads down and make it through unscathed really are fortunate. At times, misplaced words and accusations can ruin lives.

Literally.

For the most part, Sasuke was never one to fall for drama bait. He lost count of how many times people tried to rope him into their conspiracies. About who he was or wasn’t dating, who he’d blown off, or if he was sleeping with his person or that. All lies, of course. The treatment he’d always received from nearly any girl he’d met - shallow affection for his appearance with hardly any consideration of what laid beneath it - had soured him to the idea of dating at all. So even as most people his age did their best to navigate the confusion of hormones and sexuality...Sasuke wanted almost no part in it. Maybe it was his mother’s teachings, but he had almost no interest in ‘putting himself out there’. If he was going to get involved with someone...they had to be worth his time. No hit it and quit its, no one and dones. That sort of thing - in his not so humble opinion - was deserving of more time and effort.

No judgment for any who did things fast and loose. It just...wasn’t his style. Never would be. Besides, he had other things to focus on, like grades, sports, and his family. Getting into a top college had been a dream of his since he was a kid...and it only intensified as Itachi continued his ever-prodigal ways. Someday...he’d prove himself just as talented as his elder brother.

But for now...he has to slog through high school like everyone else. And that means making his way through four years of drama and rumors.

“Hey, didja hear?”

Sighing, Sasuke looks over the book he’s skimming at his desk. Beyond it, grinning foxily, is his friend and antagonist, Naruto. “...odds are, probably not. And odds are, I won’t care.”

“Aw, you’re no fun, Sasuke.”

“Nope, not a shred of it in me,” he replies flatly, going back to his reading.

“Dude, Shikamaru’s totally dating an upperclassman from Suna High!”

“...and?”

“And?! Dude, that’s big news! We’re rivals with them in basketball, remember?”

“...so what? Shikamaru doesn’t play basketball.”

“Well, no...but his new girlfriend does!”

“Oh man, how will he ever survive?” Sasuke drawls, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“That’s, like...totally a conflict of interest!”

“Naruto...I hate to break it to you...but high school sports really aren’t all that important. Unless you’re looking for a scholarship, it’s just games you play as a teenager.”

“Guh, you’re such a stick in the mud! Why do I even talk to you?”

“Good question. I ask myself that all the time.”

“You -!”

“All right class,” their teacher announces, stepping up to the podium at the front of the room. “Time for role call. Then we’ll get straight to the test.”

Stiffening, Naruto whispers harshly, “I didn’t know there was a test!”

“Maybe if you spent more time studying and less time gossiping, you’d remember,” Sasuke cuts back as the blond sits in his chair.

As the man’s voice drones through the list of names, there’s a pause as he reaches an empty desk.

“Hinata Hyūga.”

...silence.

He glances up from his sheet...then continues on.

Sasuke gives the vacant seat a glance. More and more often, that girl’s been absent...the one crushing on Naruto. As far as he’s ever known, she was always a top-notch student...quiet, and maybe a little weird, but not the sort to skip class.

...it brings a furrow to his brow.

As the last student checks in, the door suddenly opens. Within it...is none other than Hinata.

“You’re late,” their teacher announces. “...take your seat.”

Shame coloring her expression, the girl in question does as asked, trying her best to look small.

Around her...the whispers start. Sasuke’s heard them before: ponderings of what it is she keeps ending up late for.

“Maybe she’s seeing someone…?”

“Nah, she’s too shy...I bet it’s something worse…”

“Worse…?”

“You know the calculus teacher…? I heard she bombed a test...but the next day, it got bumped back to an A.”

“...no, you don’t mean…?”

Sighing curtly, Sasuke tries to block it out. What a bunch of jerks...speculating without even checking the facts. It’s rumors like these that make him sick.

Hinata, all the while, either doesn’t hear...or pretends she doesn’t. Receiving her test, she starts in right away, bent over her paper and eyes glued to the questions.

Watching her for a time, Sasuke makes up his mind.

Tomorrow...he’s going to be late.

The rest of his day goes normally, plan still firm in his mind as he walks home. He, for one, can’t bring himself to believe the hearsay. Due to her fawning after Naruto, and her friendship with Sakura (or, at least...up until recently, when the rumors started), he actually knows her. At least, a bit. And he can’t see her behaving that way.

Time to find out what’s really going on…

Studying and homework that night fly by, cranked out in record time as he instead works on his scheme. He happens to know where Hinata lives, being just up the block from him. He’ll get up early, see when she goes by...and follow her. Whatever’s going on, he’ll find out what it is. And then...he can put these damn rumors to rest.

...no one deserves to be talked about like that…

Turning in early, he sets his alarm a full hour before its typical time. He doesn’t want to miss her - who knows where she’ll go? Restless, he nonetheless finds several hours of sleep before the beeping begins. On he throws his clothes, bag already packed as he makes a quick breakfast of toast.

His father, readying for work and knowing he’s early, asks what’s going on. “Got a short thing before class,” he replies vaguely. “Don’t want to be late.”

For a moment, Fugaku looks ready to argue...but lets the subject lie, taking his leave with a wave farewell.

Once he’s gone, it’s only a few minutes before Hinata walks past, pace a quick clip as she heads toward the school.

Shoving the last piece of toast in his mouth, Sasuke follows, careful to stay enough behind to go unnoticed. But Hinata is far too focused on her path to look behind her. She does indeed head into the school, passing through a door and into a hall.

Jogging to catch up, Sasuke sees the turn she takes, slipping in quietly behind her and still in pursuit. Rounding a corner, he’s just in time to see her at her locker, frantically stuffing her things in when someone walks past.

...the calculus teacher.

Sasuke’s heart leaps to his throat. It’s ambiguous enough: he barely brushes her arm on his way by, earning a flinch. A few moments later, she makes to follow.

...he’s got a bad feeling about this.

Jaw clenching, he silently speedwalks to the proper door. It’s closed, the window in the wood obscured by the tiny shade drawn over it. Scowling, he presses an ear to the door. He can hear faint voices within, quiet and muffled. The teacher’s is smooth and low...Hinata’s pitched and jittery. Sure, she stutters...but this seems even worse than usual. She’s uncomfortable.

“...not what you want?”

“...told me you’d leave her…”

“...don’t want them to see, do you?”

“I just wanted Sakura a-away from you!”

Sasuke stiffens, mind making tentative connections. Is she somehow...taking Sakura’s place? Is this guy…?

“What we want is very rarely free. You agreed. If you back out…”

The silence is telling, and he can feel the tension.

“...I-I know...but…”

Something about her tone breaks something in him, and Sasuke can’t stand idly by any longer. He’s heard all he needs to, and swings the door open.

Thank God it wasn’t locked.

Within, Hinata stands in front of a desk, the calculus teacher sat upon it. His hand flies away from her hip, and Sasuke feels hot coals in his chest.

“...get away from her,” he growls, striding furiously across the room.

“Young man, what are you -?”

“Say another word, and I’ll knock your teeth in,” the Uchiha spits. Without pausing, he takes Hinata’s wrist, pulling her behind him before pointing at the man’s chest. “You ever lay another hand on her - or Sakura, or anyone else - I’ll fuck you up. Got it?”

Shock makes the man go pale, unable to retort as Sasuke hauls her out of the room, ignoring her protests. Not until they’re just outside the administrative offices does he stop, turning around to face her.

“...you okay?”

She’s shaking, clearly afraid. “You...y-you…!”

“I’m sorry for being so...abrupt. I couldn’t leave you in there.”

“...how did you…?”

“I noticed you were late, so...I followed you this morning. I had a feeling something was wrong...seems I was right.”

Hinata glances aside, shame evident in her features. “...he’ll be angry…”

“I don’t give a fuck. If he wants to come after someone, he can come after me.” Despite his flare of temper, Sasuke then softens. “...I’m not gonna let him touch you again. You...stepped in because he was after someone else. After Sakura...didn’t you?”

A pause...and then a slow nod. “...she was a-angry I found out. Was sure there would be...c-consequences. That’s why...she stopped talking to me. But I...I couldn’t just…!”

“You don’t have to explain to me, Hinata. But I think you do need to tell someone. This guy’s gonna hurt someone else if you keep quiet. I’ll stand with you. I heard and saw enough. If we both -?”

“I...I don’t know if I...i-if I can…”

Sasuke heaves a curt sigh. “...he won’t stop until you do. Neither will the rumors. Please, Hinata...I already promised he won’t hurt you. Look, my dad’s a cop. I’ll pull whatever strings I have to. You’ll be okay. But this has to stop...all right?”

On the verge of tears, she takes a shuddering breath. “...I’ll try…” Pale eyes then flicker to him. “...you’ll...you’ll go with me?”

“Of course. I’m a witness. And I meant what I told him. I’ll keep you safe. It’s gonna be okay, Hinata. I promise.”

Her gaze moves over his face, as though looking for an excuse, or a reason to doubt him. But apparently, she finds none. “...okay.”

Remaining at her side, Sasuke listens as she requests to speak to the principal, let in through the office door. And as they step through into the office, he stays beside her.

What he found out...it’s going to save her.

It has to.

                                                          .oOo.

     This, admittedly, was edging toward the limit of my comfort zone, buuut it's good to test that sometimes. Hopefully the warning tags are good enough - if I'm missing any, please let me know!      Anyway, this piece mostly just...speaks for itself. Poor Hinata...speculation is so often wrong when made without the facts. But Sasuke's gonna protect her. This won't be happening again. He'll make sure of it!      But yeah, that's all outta me tonight. It's v late and I'm pooped lol - thanks for reading!

[iloveyouthree-thousand]

The Graduation

A little fic in which Peter graduates from Midtown and has to give a Valedictorian speech, and a certain genius/billionaire/playboy/philanthropist makes an appearance in the front row.

Peter's hands were clammy and his heart was beating just a little bit too fast.

The auditorium was filling quickly, parents and siblings and extended family members pushing against the throngs of other people to find seats with the best view of their children.

Backstage, the Class of 2019 waited anxiously as teachers called out names and guided the teens into their correct orders.

"Flash Thompson, you're right behind Peter Parker here," their Spanish teacher said, continuing to usher everyone into place.

Peter fiddled with the blue and gold tassel on his cap, wishing that the graduation ceremony had been arranged in alphabetical order instead of according to height.

"Hey, Parker, they spelled your name wrong in the program," Flash said, waving a folded piece of paper in front of him, "they wrote Peter Parker instead of Penis Parker."

He kept his eyes trained forward, ignoring Flash as he scanned the crowd.

May sat in the first row, in one of two seats marked with a sign that read: Reserved for Family of Valedictorian.

The second seat was empty.

"Earth-to-Parker," Flash said, louder this time, "I'm talking to you."

Flash's gaze followed Peter's, landing on the vacant seat.

"Aw, daddy didn't show?" He cooed, lip pouted exaggeratedly.

"He's not my dad," Peter said, pulling his eyes away from his aunt who was sitting all alone.

"No shit. Did you really think that listing him as a special guest would make us actually believe Tony Stark even knows your name? You're an even bigger loser than I thought."

He wanted to tell Flash off, but he couldn't stop thinking about the empty seat. Tony was supposed to be there. He said he'd be there.

"Don't cry Penis, you might ruin your mascara," he taunted, before unexpectedly lurching forward and nearly knocking Peter over in the process.

Peter looked back to see MJ, smirking, her foot having just collided with the back of Flash's knee.

"Michelle," one of the teacher's warned as Flash indignantly brushed off the back of his pants.

"This suit is Tom Ford," he squawked.

"These shoes are Payless," she replied, shrugging, "your point?"

"My point is that these pants cost over a thousand dollars and you just got dirt all over them."

"The bottom of my shoe is covered in pretentiousness now, so let’s call it even."

Peter gave MJ a silent nod that said thank you to which she responded, plenty loud for Flash to hear, "don't pay attention to him. His fragile masculinity is feeling threatened by the fact that everyone is about to find out you're officially smarter than him."

A couple kids in the back snorted, but everyone snapped to attention and shut up as the band started playing Pomp and Circumstance.

His hands started sweating again the closer he got to the front of the line. As the boy in front of him walked across the stage, Peter finally caught a glimpse of Ned in the opposite wing and grinned as Ned waved furiously at him from behind the curtain.

On the teacher's cue, Peter walked out under the bright lights, meeting Ned at center stage for their signature handshake before continuing down the aisle together.

As they processed, the principal's voice boomed out from a podium beside the stage.

"Peter Parker is the son of the late Richard and Mary Parker, and is represented tonight by his guardian May Parker and special guest Anthony Stark."

He kept his eyes trained on his shoes as he made his way to his seat, relieved when the principal continued to Ned's introduction.

His eyes flitted between Ned, whose chair was opposite him, and the first row where Tony's presence was still absent. Despite both May's and Ned's reassuring glances, Peter's heart sank as the last of his classmates finished their procession.

The first half of the ceremony passed in a blur. The principal offered a charismatic welcome to the family and friends in the audience, a few faculty members spoke on behalf of the class, and a distinguished alumnus gave a heartwarming speech, but Peter hardly heard anything.

He's a busy man, Peter tried to remind himself. He should've known better than to think Tony Stark—billionaire businessman and actual superhero—had the time to attend his little graduation.

He felt stupid for actually listing Tony as a special guest and broadcasting to the entire crowd just how pathetic he was. Flash would probably frame that stupid program and show it to his grandchildren. You're an even bigger loser than I thought.

To make matters worse, his speech was nearing, and his nerves kicked into overdrive.

The audience clapped as the alumnus exited the stage, and the principal returned to the podium to distribute diplomas.

An agonizing hour passed as each name was called up to receive the leather-bound certificate and shake hands with the faculty.

As the last student exited the stage and returned to his seat, the principal returned to the podium to introduce the Valedictorian.

Just then, a slightly disheveled man with red-tinted glasses apologetically squeezed past May and, passing her a small bouquet of flowers, assumed the seat next to her. His gray suit—no doubt even more expensive than Flash's—was stained at the knees with what looked like a mixture of grease and dirt.

He was probably just working on some things in the shop and lost track of time, Peter thought, ignoring the twinge of hurt that came along with the idea. At least he made it.

"Our final speaker for this evening is a young man who embodies our school's philosophy: to take everything we know and flip it inside out, to turn facts into questions, and ideas into realities. Mr. Parker has not only achieved academic excellence, but through his internship with Stark Industries, he has proven himself to be one of the most innovative minds to walk through our school. Please give a warm welcome to Midtown's Valedictorian for the Class of 2019, Mr. Peter Parker."

His stomach was churning and his legs wobbled as he stood up from his seat and walked to the front of the stage.

He wouldn't even be up here if May hadn't given him an ultimatum—keep his grades up, or no more patrolling. He'd still be sitting, perfectly safe, in the cold, metal folding-chair if Tony hadn't started taking him to conventions, showing off his achievements in the lab.

He'd give anything to be in his suit right now, hidden from the hundreds of people awaiting his words of wisdom.

Ned was grinning at him like the proud best friend he was, and even MJ couldn't hold back a light-hearted smirk.

May snapped a picture before giving him a thumbs up. Next to her, Tony removed his glasses and with a look of utter sincerity mouthed, "knock 'em dead."

And then it was just him and the microphone.

“Hi, my name is Peter Parker, as Principal Morita so kindly mentioned...,” he trailed off, feeling his heart rate quicken.

He thought back to the tips his principal had given him earlier.

Slow it down.

Find a focal point in that auditorium and hold onto it.

He scanned the audience, and like a magnet, his gaze landed on May. And then Tony.

Breathe.

Don’t think about the crowd, just talk to the ones that matter.

Peter took a shaky breath.

“Tonight, I’d like to talk about heroes.”

"Our class has grown up in an age of Hulk posters and Captain America shields and fantasies about becoming superheroes. When I was little, I practically lived in my Iron Man costume. I must have driven my aunt insane, because I'd run around and wreak havoc on our little apartment with my imaginary hand-repulsors and plastic armor. I may not have realized it then, but my Aunt May will always be my first superhero. Even in a time of crisis, she refused to hide from a challenge. And believe me when I say that I was a challenge."

The audience chuckled, and Peter finally managed a smile.

“May taught me to never settle. She showed me how to always make the most out of the life you’ve been given, and that the way you play the hand matters a whole lot more than the cards you’re dealt.”

Peter felt the cold sweat creep its way into his palms again. In the first row, his aunt dabbed at the corner of her eye. He watched as Tony reached over and gently squeezed her hand, and a second later they were both beaming up at him, the pride practically radiating from their faces.

Another surge of confidence swelled into his chest, and he continued.

"Three years ago, I received an incredible opportunity to intern for Stark Industries."

Through his peripheral field of vision, Peter caught Flash rolling his eyes.

"And one of the perks of interning there, besides the science, of course," the audience gave another laugh, "is that I got to meet another superhero."

"I wasn’t kidding when I said I practically lived in my Iron Man costume. I think a lot of kids my age loved Iron Man, and who could blame us? He was rich and famous and fought bad guys in a flying gold-titanium suit. Iron Man was the epitome of cool.”

"It took me a while, though, to realize that my real hero wasn't Iron Man—but the man who created him. My hero was Tony Stark.”

“Mr. Stark wasn't always a superhero. He was thrown into a cave and given a choice: give in to the bad guys, or die. With his back to the wall, Tony Stark created a third option. With nothing more than ingenuity and some scraps of metal, he built the Iron Man. In that moment, he made himself a superhero."

“Mr. Stark taught me the same lesson my aunt did: that ordinary people can become heroes. That when the world is telling you there's no way out—you have to make one. You have to become your own hero. I'm not saying I'm about to make myself the newest member of the Avengers," he said, and the auditorium smiled, "I’m not sure I'm built for that.”

“But I do believe, and I hope you all do too, that we all have it in ourselves to become heroes. You all," he turned to his classmates, "are some of the smartest people I have ever met, it's ridiculous. And if there's one thing I hope for all of us, it's that we never settle. When we come across a situation with no good options, I hope that we are brave enough to engineer a new one. We aren't locked into the world we think we know. Let’s be the next generation of heroes. Congratulations, Class of 2019."

At that, the audience erupted and Peter's classmates got on their feet and tossed their caps in the air.

The teens processed off the stage, diplomas in hand, and disappeared into the auditorium to meet their families.

May nearly tackled him with a hug before pushing his shoulders back to look at his face.

"I'm so, so proud of you. You were great up there. I wish Rich and Mary could have been here to see it," she beamed, pulling him in for another hug.

Ned came over and hugged him too, while May snapped a million pictures.

"Dude, you are so cool right now. I don’t even know if I should even be allowed to talk to you."

Peter snorted, "Shut up."

"Not bad, Parker," Michelle said, towering over Peter in her heels—shoes he never thought he'd catch her dead in.

He glowed bright red when May pushed them together for a picture, his arm placed delicately around her waist.

He nearly died when she kissed him, in the middle of the auditorium, with his aunt and her camera two feet away and his best friend cackling in the background.

"May," he groaned when the flash went off.

"Pete, someday you're going to thank me for that," she winked, before hugging Michelle and congratulating her.

She took a few more pictures of all three of them together before Ned and MJ left to find their respective families and Peter was finally able to breathe again.

"Hey, May, did you see where Mr.-," he started, as his aunt nudged her head to the corner where Tony stood, doing his best to remain patient as teenagers and their parents swarmed him. Flash was at the front of the crowd.

Peter made his way over, but didn't want to fight his way through the throng of fans trying to get a picture with him.

Tony was thankful when he caught sight of the kid.

"Alright, that's all for the autographs today. You can get in touch with my manager if you want another meet-and-greet, he loves talking to people."

Peter laughed under his breath as Tony passed out Happy's personal cell number while he pushed through to see his kid.

"Hey," he said, not even hesitating before wrapping his arms around the boy's shoulders and holding him there.

"I'm sorry I was late," Tony apologized when he finally pulled away, "there was somebody on the side of the road with a blown transmission. I wanted to just drive by, but I kept hearing some kid's voice in my head telling me I needed to help. Congratulations, you've officially replaced Cap as my conscience."

Peter let out a small laugh, then his eyes met the floor.

"Well, thanks for coming," Peter whispered quietly, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

"Oh, kid,” Tony pressed a hand under Peter’s chin, forcing him to meet his eyes, “I wouldn't have missed it for the world." 

"Here," Tony handed him a manila envelope, "I got you a little graduation gift."

Inside was a certificate that Peter was positive he wasn't reading correctly.

"Mr. Stark-,"

"It's a share of my company. Well, Pepper's company technically, but you know, my name's still on the door."

Peter was at a loss.

"M-most people just give out like gift cards or something... I-I can't accept this."

"Pete, you deserve this. It's not enough to live on, but if you ever want a job, you've got one there. Just say the word."

He just stood in stunned silence.

"Oh," Tony added, as if he'd just remembered something he'd forgotten, "I talked to M.I.T. today—excellent choice, by the way—and there's a new scholarship. The Richard and Mary Parker scholarship. It'll go to you, of course, these first few years, and after that it will be granted annually to kids like you."

"...kids like me?"

"Brilliant, passionate, scrappy, selfless. Kids who aren't afraid to look out for the little guy and push some boundaries."

Peter was silent again, trying to absorb the weight of everything Tony had just said.

"Mr. Stark, I don't know what to say. Thank you."

"No, Pete. Thank you."

"For what?"

"For seeing a hero in a charity case like me," Tony smiled sadly.

"Yea, well, you did the same for me," Peter replied, and this time he was the one who initiated the hug.

A camera flashed.

"May."

"Someday, Peter," she smiled, "someday."

[my-creative-hell]

Blood (Teen vampire au)

Grave messes with the small thing in her hand, repairing it as the cafeteria around them buzzes with life, other students eating and talking with one another as she and Rose sit side by side. Hannah and the others had taken to leaving them alone at lunch to be with each other, though Grave didn’t understand why, not really thinking about it, despite her and Rose being an item. Rose sits beside Grave quietly, half paying attention to what Grave was doing with her new found toy, and half attempting to eat the food she had brought with her to school, though it appeared to be a losing battle as Grave gets some small cuts on her hands from messing with her device, not noticing as she instead focuses on Rose.

“You okay?” Grave asks, her voice calm, though a small amount of concern rises inside her at Rose’s tired appearance as she sits next to her, skin slightly paler than normal.

“Yeah, I’m just a little tired is all.” Rose reassures her, a gentle smile on her face as she looks at Grave for a moment before refocusing on her food.

“Oh… you’re gonna go to sleep once we get home. I’ll do your homework for you so you don’t gotta worry about it!” Grave proposes her idea, smiling happily.

“What would I do without you?” Rose laughs quietly as she picks at her food, smiling warmly at Grave, who shrugs.

“Who knows? Sleep for a thousand years maybe.” Grave jokes, making Rose giggle happily as she stops her attempts to eat her food.

“Maybe, rather not find out.” Rose smiles warmly as she looks at Grave, focusing on her instead of the room around her, and the mostly untouched food below her.

“That’s cheesy… I love it.” Grave sighs happily as she returns to fiddling with her device.

“I would hope so.” Rose pushes her good away from her slightly, giving up on her attempt to eat, watching Grave instead.

“You can have some of my food if you’d like. I got it from the place next door so it’s not shitty.” Grave doesn’t take her eyes off of what she is doing as she offers her food to Rose, knowing it would taste better than whatever had been served that day from the cafeteria.

“Nah, not in the mood to eat really.” Rose is calm and unphased as she answers, smiling softly as she leans her head against her hand.

“That’s okay!” Grave covers over her slight bit of worry as she finishes fixing her current project. “The hell am I gonna fix now…” She mutters, Rose snorting lightly beside her.

“Well, my headphones got broken in my English class if you want something to do.” Rose offers, smiling. “They got thrown across the classroom.” She explains as she looks at Grave.

“Give me, please!” Grave bounces out of excitement and happiness, making Rose laugh as she leans down, pulling her bag onto the table.

“Here they are…” She brings out some mangled headphones, which look severely damaged as she hands them to Grave.

“Who threw them?” Grave questions in a soft voice as she takes the headphones off of Rose, immediately beginning to repair them.

“Mmmmmmm some girl called Lola. Don’t really know why…” Rose shrugs as she explains, not seeming bothered by the situation, though Grave groans, annoyed by the name.

“Fucking L o l a. She’s the hall bitch. I punched her in the nose once… felt a little bad about it because she was only getting in my face and telling… but she’s still a dick.” Grave explains, Rose giving off her own groan as she thinks about it.

“Oh… that makes sense then. Isn’t she like super religious or something?” Rose questions as she watches Grave fix her headphones.

“Yeah. And she’s so racist that even racist people hate her.” Grave laughs as she works.

“Hmm, so she hates us in several ways.” Rose elaborates, laughing quietly. “How fun.” She lets her sarcasm leak into her words as she rolls her eyes in slight annoyance.

“She’s like Kaitlyn Bennet but more of an asshole.” Grave finishes the headphones quickly, holding them out to Rose. “Here you go!” Rose smiles happily as she takes the headphones back.

“Thank you!” She leans forward, pressing a soft kiss onto Grave as she places the headphones back into her bag.

“You’re welcome!” Grave blushes slightly from the kiss as she giggles, Rose grinning as she blushes slightly herself.

“Whats your next class?” Rose changes the subject as she closes her bag again, smiling at Grave happily.

“Meth.” Grave smiles at her dumb joke as Rose laughs, trying not to be too loud as she’s caught off guard.

“Okay, okay sure. But seriously!” Rose smiles as she presses the subject, resisting the urge to laugh more.

“Math bois! Number bitches!” Grave wiggles as she tells Rose, who nods in response, thinking for a moment.

“Sounds good for you. I think I got… physical education… great.” Rose feigns enthusiasm, a fake smile on her face.

“Y a y, body learning and a whole lotta s w e a t!” Grave’s voice drips in sarcasm, making Rose snort.

“Mmmm just love getting sweaty and gross!” Rose struggles not to laugh as she imitates Grave’s sarcasm.

“Its my favourite activity! So elegant with wonderful fragrances!” Grave laughs at her own words, Rose giggling as she hides her face in her hands.

“Ugh its so gross!” She speaks between her giggles as she thinks about it, grimacing behind her hands.

“I know, right?” Grave agrees as the bell sounds out. “Well shit, gotta blast!” Grave exclaims, making Rose giggle again as she stands up.

“I’ll see you after class!” She smiles, blowing Grave a kiss as she begins to walk away to her class.

Grave blushes lightly as she waves at Rose, getting up from the table and walking to her next class.

As she walks into her class, she can see Mr. Haan sitting at her teacher’s desk, waiting for the class to begin, clearly subbing for this lesson. Grave frowns slightly as she heads to her desk in the back of the class.

As the bell goes again, Haan begins the class normally, doing role call and writing information on the board for the students to copy down.

Grave focuses on her own work, feeling slightly worse due to the fact that Haan was teaching the class, much more comfortable with her normal teacher. But Haan ignores Grave for the most part, focusing on the rest of the class as he teaches, allowing her to do her own work at the back of the room in silence.

Grave finishes her work speedily, used to this class. She spaces out as she waits for the class to end, not wanting to be present as Haan continues to teach. He doesn’t prod her as she would expect, despite Grave clearly not doing any more work as she crawls inside her mind, instead leaving her to her own devices as he educates the rest of the class.

Grave wiggles as the end of class draws near, her mind switching to think of Rose for the remainder of the lesson before the bell goes off, Haan sitting back down at the teachers desk as he allows the class to leave.

Graves leaves the class, her mind still spaced out as she grabs her bag and walks out, thinking about Rose as she heads to her final lesson, science. As she walks into the classroom, she can see that some other students are already sitting down in the class, the table where Rose and her sit currently empty, Rose absent from the room.

Grave sits at their desk, putting her head down to rest it on the table as she quietly wiggles, waiting for the class to start. Soon enough the teacher walks in, beginning the lesson, Rose not showing as it starts. Lola comes in twenty minutes into the lesson, apologising and taking her seat silently, though she isn’t followed by anyone, not even Rose. Confusion and concern rush through Grave at Rose’s absence from the class, looking at Lola as she sits.

“Oh dear…” Grave whispers quietly as she looks at her, the class continuing without Rose, her never showing up. Grave looks around the class, catching Hannah’s eyes, who also looks slightly worried, noticing Rose’s unusual absence, eyeing up Lola as class continues.

Grave feels more concerned as the lesson progresses, nervousness flooding into her as she sneakily checks her phone, hoping Rose had text her about skipping the class. But there are no messages on her phone, and no sign of Rose showing up to the class.

Grave waits until the teacher isn’t looking at her before clipping through the floor without being noticed by anyone except Hannah. She messes around, landing in the hallway without being seen. The end of class draws near as Grave walks in the hallway, no signs of Rose to be seen as she looks.

Grave runs to the bathrooms in case Rose was hiding inside one of them, her concern only growing worse as time goes on. But as she gets in the bathroom she can see that all the stalls are empty, no one inside any of them, the bell for the end of the day ringing out as she searches.

Grave walks to the clubroom Rose and the group had claimed as their own, going as fast as she can. But the room is vacant, no Rose inside of it, making it seem as if she had just vanished totally. Footsteps echo in the hallway as Hannah comes walking into the room, worried about Grave and Rose, trying to find them both as she pops her head into the clubroom, spotting Grave.

Grave moves to go outside, moving quickly as panic consumes her, her heart beating a mile a minute in fear as Hannah runs to catch up to her, holding her shoulders gently to prevent her from moving away.

“Grave, Grave! Hey, calm down, what’s going on?” Hannah questions, her concern clear on her face as she studies Grave, able to feel the panic coming off of her.

“Rose.” Is the only word Grave can produce, her mind too panicked and out of it with fear and worry, staring at Hannah with those emotions displayed clearly in her eyes.

“I know, she wasn’t in class with us. She isn’t anywhere?” Hannah moves her hands to gently hold Grave’s face to try and ground her to reality, her voice soft and calm in an effort to help her.

“N-No. Not here.” Grave’s voice wavers as she answers, her breath coming out hard and shallow as her fear only grows, Hannah nodding slowly.

“Okay, hey it’s okay. Its gonna be fine, we’ll find her, I promise…” Hannah attempts to soothe Grave as she thinks, trying to remember any information that might help them. “What lesson did she have last?” She questions, her voice quiet.

“S-Science.” Grave’s responses are short in her fear, everything feeling wrong and bad as she tries to focus.

“Before that Grave. What was the last lesson you know she went to?” Hannah clarifies her question, looking at Grave with a slightly concerned expression, though she tries to keep her composure.

“P-P.E.” Grave shakes as she explains, unpleasant memories surfacing inside her brain as she thinks about this situation, only making her feel worse and more panicked.

“With Lola, right?” Hannah questions, thinking as she speaks, looking away from Grave slightly as she considers something, thinking it over. Grave nods in response, trying to calm herself down, though it doesn’t work as she continues to panic.

Hannah’s eyes turn black, indicating that she is using her abilities to search for something, coming back a minute later, a look in her eyes.

“Okay, come on I have somthin.” Hannah speaks bluntly, gently dragging Grave by her hand away from where they were standing, a destination clearly in mind. Grave allows herself to be dragged along, out of it as her brain assumes the worst.

Hannah carefully leads Grave to the sports cupboard containing all the equipment, the door to it locked by a padlock as Hannah looks at it.

“I felt something in here…” Hannah explains, pointing to the door as she pulls Grave next to her. Grave wastes no time, clipping through the door, her heart beating so hard its audible.

As she enters the room, she can see Lola standing. At first glance it looks like its just her, but as Grave looks more, she can see Rose in front of her, being pressed into the wall as Lola talks to her, her face worried and afraid.

“Rose?” Grave’s voice is soft as she calls out, still feeling afraid as she observes the scene in front of her. Rose looks at Grave, face twisting to look more afraid at her being there. Lola turns to look at Grave, her face twisted in anger.

Grave rolls her eyes as she looks at Lola, moving to try and get to Rose to get her out. But Lola pushes Rose further into the wall, making her wince in pain.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Lola questions, watching Grave with a threatening expression. But Grave doesn’t care, landing a solid punch in her face, feeling her skin split under her fist in a satisfying manner.

“Don’t touch her.” Grave reprimands, her tone angry and cold as Lola’s nose bleeds, making her let go of Rose, who slides down the wall without Lola holding her up.

“You’re defending a monster you know.” Lola tries to defend her action, looking at Grave as she holds onto her nose, blood leaking over her hands.

“I don’t… care? But thanks for the info?” Grave focuses on Rose, picking her up gently in her arms.

“She’s a vampire! She kills people and steals their blood! She has to be stopped…” Lola explains, anger filling her voice as she tries to sway Grave onto her side.

“Cool.” Grave lands another solid punch into her face, hoping to shut her up as Hannah walks into the closet, having broken the lock forcefully from the outside.

“Oh shit, alright.” Hannah surveys the scene as she walks in, pinching the bridge of her nose as her eyes scan over Lola, Rose and Grave.

“Hi. Sorry.” Grave apologises to Hannah as she begins to leave, feeling slightly better now she has Rose, though fear still pounds through her.

“Nah its fair. Go take care of Rose, I’ll deal with this… cause she doesn’t look good.” Hannah looks at Rose and she’s right, Rose looks pale and shaky as she struggles to keep herself awake and alert as Grave holds her.

Grave places a small kiss on her forehead to heal her wounds as she leaves the building. Rose still looks bad despite this, clinging to Grave gently as she attempts to stay awake, looking tired and afraid as Grave runs to her home, reaching it quickly.

Rose struggles to stay conscious as Grave gets to her home, seeming exhausted and potentially hurt as Grave enters her lab, putting Rose gently on the table.

“Okay, before you pass out, what do you need?” Grave questions, knowing a lot of the things in her lab likely wouldn’t help in this situation, keeping her voice soft despite the rising panic inside her.

“I’m sorry…” Rose’s voice wavers, some tears slipping down her face as she looks at Grave, face scared as she tries to speak.

“Its okay! Its okay, I promise.” Grave holds Rose’s face gently, kissing away the tears softly to try and calm her.

“But she was right…” Rose tries to explain, sounding upset, feeling afraid that Grave would soon hate her.

“She wasn’t! You’re not a monster, Rose.” Grave explains calmly, her voice kind and soft as she speaks.

“I am…” Some more tears trickle down Rose’s face as she speaks. “She was right about what I am… should’ve let her do it…” Rose trails off, not fully aware of what she’s saying.

“D… D-Do what?” Grave questions, concerned as she gently pries for the answer out of Rose.

“She was gonna end it…” Rose explains, crying gently as she speaks to Grave, feeling overwhelmed and afraid. Grave softly presses their heads together in worry, gently kissing Rose’s face in hopes of calming her down.

“You can hate me, its okay…” Rose looks at Grave as she calms down slightly, her eyes sad.

“I don’t hate you, Rose.” Grave smiles. “I love you so fucking much!” She clarifies, confusing Rose.

“B-But I’m not good…” Rose argues gently, unable to understand what Grave is saying.

“You’re very good. Just because you’re not human doesn’t make you a piece of shit, Rose.” Grave speaks softly and calmly to Rose, reassuring her.

“But I have to drink blood… I hate it, I try not to do it…” Rose frowns slightly, not focusing on what she’s saying.

“That’s like saying eagles are bad for eating other animals. You aren’t bad because you need blood… also, how long has it been since you drank any?” Graves concern spikes slightly as she questions Rose.

“Mmmm…” Rose thinks, frowning as she tries to come up with an answer. “Mmmmaybe like a month or two?” She eventually answers, looking at Grave with slightly guilty eyes.

“That’s bad, stay here.” Grave moves over to a cabinet, filled with her own blood that she stores. “How much do you need?” She questions, Rose looking scared as she forces herself to sit up.

“I-I don’t know… probably quite a lot… I’ve never left it this long…” She explains, watching Grave.

“Um… hold on.” Grave pulls out her phone, sending a text to Hannah. ’Hhh hey how much blood does a vampire (who hasn’t eaten in like 1 or two months) need?’ Grave sends the text, her phone ringing only moment later, Hannah’s voice flooding through the phone into Grave’s ears.

“I’m sorry explain that text to me please?” Hannah questions, her voice slightly off, as if she is doing something while answering the phone and talking to Grave.

“Rose hasn’t d r o n k in one or two months and I need to know how much to give her because I have v i a l s of my blood.” Grave explains, panicking slightly.

“Oh shit…” Hannah makes some noise as she shifts on the phone. “Um… that’s not good, okay. You give her one litre now to stabilise her, and keep an eye on her to make sure she’s okay, cause this isn’t great. And in an hour or two you give her another litre. Keep doing that until she’s had a full humans worth, so like six or seven litres…” Hannah explains, sounding concerned over the phone.

“Okay, thank you!” Grave hangs up the phone, going into her cabinet and pulling out a litre bottle containing her blood, passing it to Rose. “Merry Christmas, its blood. Don’t ask how, please.” Grave jokes.

“Why is it pink?…” Rose questions, looking at the strangely coloured blood she has been handed.

“Because its mine.” Is all Grave says in response, Rose hesitantly opening the bottle.

“I guess so…” Rose puts the bottle to her lips, drinking the blood slowly, her face shifting to look confused and slightly concerned as she does.

“Does it taste weird?” Grave questions, confused as Rose nods slightly, drinking faster as her thirst catches up with her, making her finish the bottle quickly.

“Yay, you d r o n k.” Grave taps her feet lightly on the floor, Rose nodding again in agreement.

“I did…” Rose is quiet as her brain starts to come back to itself, helping her understand her current situation.

“How ya feelin?” Grave sits down next to Rose gently as she speaks, looking at her.

“Like I got locked in a cupboard for an hour…” Rose leans against Grave as she sits. “So pretty normal I guess…” She elaborates.

“Ah, that’s… kinda good… ish.” Grave giggles, making Rose smile as she leans against her.

“Kind of yeah… I probably really scared you, huh? I’m sorry…” She apologises in a soft voice, looking at Grave with concerned eyes.

“Its not your fault, Rose.” Grave smiles gently as she reassures her. “Its fuckin L o l a, with her stupid head ass.” Grave explains, her small amount of anger easily being overwhelmed by her happiness.

“Yeah… somehow she found out what I was and shut me in the cupboard…” Rose sighs quietly. “She’s the worst.”

“Can I tell you something funny about her?” Grave requests, smiling as she looks at Rose.

“Mmmm, sure.” Rose sounds intrigued as she looks back at Grave, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

“I made her shit herself at a party once.” Grave laughs as she explains, Rose snorting incredulously.

“How?!” Rose half yells as she tries to contain her laughter, wanting the full story from Grave.

“She was being a dick and telling me I couldn’t go into the bathroom for some dumbass reason and I-” Grave cuts herself off as she giggles.

“Oh no, what did you do?” Rose questions, trying not to burst into laughter as she speaks.

“I fuckin yeeted her to the wall, but its weird because I never touched her and when I tried to get out of the bathroom she started to yell at me.” Grave begins to play with Rose’s hair as she tells the story. “So I was fuckin a n g e r y and the next thing I knew, her shit was on the floor.” She explains, Rose unable to speak as she starts laughing loudly, unable to hold it in anymore.

“She thinks I’m like… a demon now.” Grave feels happy now that Rose is laughing, leaning into Grave for more support as she giggles and laughs. Grave happily holds onto Rose’s hand, who continues to calm down as she holds onto Grave’s, closing her eyes gently.

“We gotsa wait for like… an h o u r.” Grave reminds Rose, giving her a soft kiss on the forehead.

“Mmmm…” Rose smiles warmly at the kiss, her head resting comfortable against Grave’s shoulder.

“…Fuck Lola.” Grave smiles, laughing slightly, making Rose giggle as she leans on her.

“Mhm… slammed me into a wall… so rude.” She jokes lightly, smiling against Grave.

“She sucks a s s. Thankfully, she doesn’t smell like one.” Grave wiggles slightly as she speaks.

“She doesn’t smell great… her blood smells super sour…” Rose giggles quietly. “Yours is also really weird…” Rose mentions, referencing Grave’s blood.

“What did it taste like?” Grave asks, smiling as she prods for information from Rose.

“Mmmm… very sweet. Like sugared strawberries…” Rose explains, her voice quiet and soft.

“Hm… I wonder why.” Grave feels confused as she tries to figure it out, Rose smiling.

“Mmmmaybe because you’re so sweet…” Rose smiles more as she offers her idea to Grave.

“That’s c h e e s y.” Grave blushes at the compliment, making Rose giggle quietly.

“I am cheesy…” Rose justifies, giggling as she plants a small kiss on Grave’s face.

“I’ve been a t t a c k e d.” Grave blushes more at the kiss Rose gives her, looking down at her.

“Mmmmnooooo… I just love you very much.” Rose explains, smiling as she closes her eyes again, feeling calm and happy.

“…It’s a love attack.” Grave smiles, planting a kiss on Rose’s neck as revenge, attacking her weak spot.

“Nnnnot fair…” Rose whines, blushing as she hides her face in Grave gently, wanting to escape.

“Yes fair! You a t t a c k e d me with a kiss, I had to get revenge.” Grave giggles as Rose whines quietly, burrowing her face into Grave as she seeks warmth.

“Sorry, Rose…” Grave giggles as she gently encases Rose in a warm hug, squeezing her gently.

“Ssssfine…” Rose mumbles as she leans into the hug, warm and relaxed as Grave holds her.

“Good!” Grave is warm as she hugs Rose, making her more calm and relaxed, finding her spot in the hug comfortable.

“I love you!” Grave exclaims happily as she holds Rose, smiling warmly as she feels Rose grin.

“I love you too…” Rose’s voice is quiet as she speaks, sounding happy as she shifts slightly, getting comfortable.

“Mmmmine.” Grave smiles happily as Rose leans into her more, warm and content.

“Mmmmyours…” Rose confirms, feeling warm and happy, her brain starting to feel sleepy as she leans into the hug more.

“Am y o u r s!” Grave blushes lightly, Rose giggling quietly as she softly hugs her. Grave blushes more as she gently begins playing with Rose’s curls, Rose leaning into her more as she gets sleepier.

Grave presses a gentle kiss to Rose’s face, watching as she softly smiles, feeling too happy for words as she slowly falls asleep hugging Grave as she softly glows, smiling at Rose gently as she keeps holding her gently in her sleep.

[edogawatranslations]

Danganronpa Kirigiri (3) - Chapter 1, Part 1

Table of Contents | Previous: Introduction and Translation Notes

Danganronpa Kirigiri: Volume 3

Chapter 1 - The Boy and the Count

The dawn of a new year.

That was how he referred to it.[1]

What awaited us was quite possibly not simply the turn of the calendar year, but instead, the end of one era and the start of another.

January 7th.

Winter vacation had ended, ushering in the new school term.

The gentle rays of the sun streamed in through the windows, illuminating a row of my classmates’ drowsy faces. Even though the school bell had already signaled the start of class, an air of lethargy still hung over the room. The only hint of liveliness came from the pesky sound of the teacher’s chalk dancing across the blackboard.

Once recess began, I walked over to the middle school classroom.

Kyoko Kirigiri’s seat was empty.

I approached a nearby student, who confirmed to me that she was indeed absent.

—She’s been missing since that day.

That day, when we emerged victorious from the Duel Noir at Norman’s Hotel and witnessed the peculiar sight of the stage curtain behind the murder game unraveling. That place, from where the two of us escaped hand-in-hand, trembling with fear.

Thinking back to it now, parting ways afterwards was a mistake. I should never have let go of her hand. I didn’t stop her from going back to her house, as I believed that to be the safest place for her. After escorting her home, I returned to my dormitory room.

The following week was filled with nothing but ordinary days, devoid of any murder investigations or Duel Noirs. Yet, every waking moment—when I was working on homework, taking a shower, or even lying in my bed—the image of those who died weighed heavily on my mind. My heart was still deeply engrossed in the case. I couldn’t help but think that the peaceful, uneventful hours passing by marked a temporary suspension of reality.

Longing to speak with Kyoko, I tried calling her house, but nobody picked up. Not her, not even her grandfather or her live-in housekeepers. It was the same no matter when I called.

Finding it odd, I decided to stop by her house in person. Pressing the intercom button outside didn’t trigger any response. The surveillance cameras at the gate gazed coldly in my direction. From what I could see of the residence over the tall fence, all the lights were off, and nobody seemed to be home.

Did something happen to Kyoko?

Knowing that she hadn’t been coming to school, my vague anxieties cemented into grave concern.

It was almost as if Kyoko Kirigiri had been whisked away from this world.

Did the Crime Victims’ Salvation Committee finally make their move? The organization’s leader, Mikado Shinsen, was somehow connected with Kyoko’s detective grandfather. Perhaps she had gotten entangled in some trouble between the two of them.

If she had been abducted, then it would be up to a detective with a Detective Shelf Classification number of [88]—those specializing in kidnapping cases—to find her. That meant me.

I’ll save her.

—But the way things were, I had no way of knowing if she had actually been kidnapped. She couldn’t have fallen into the hands of the enemy so easily. As the sole daughter of the Kirigiri detective clan, she possessed extraordinary talent and abilities, which I had the pleasure of witnessing with my own eyes many times over.

Just where did Kyoko disappear to?

———

Tracking down missing persons was a detective’s duty.

For my first stop, I decided to pay a visit to the Detective Library, hoping that there would be a message or clue left for me there.

The Detective Library contained an archive of files with information on approximately 65,500 detectives. The collection was open to the public, making it so that anyone could freely browse through at their leisure. Any person seeking information pertaining to a detective would be wise to make it their first priority to come here.

I got off the bus once it reached the Detective Library, and slipped through the old-fashioned gates. The front porch of the building was designed with a western flair, and as I stepped onto it, I once again found myself standing in front of the portal that led to the forest of detectives.

I had come here many times in the past. Just a few days earlier, Kyoko and I had entered through these doors. Yet, on this occasion, standing before the Detective Library inspired not only the usual sense of wonder and mystery, but also a certain feeling of dread that a formidable darkness lay within its walls.

That apprehension was most likely the result of me having been through two Duel Noirs. I couldn’t help but imagine that the dark shadow of the Crime Victims’ Salvation Committee was cast over the Detective Library.

On the surface, the Detective Library labeled itself a neutral institution, free from the influence of all outside organizations. But was that really the truth?

Mikado Shinsen, the architect of the Crime Victims’ Salvation Committee, was one of the individuals who played a key role in establishing the Detective Library fifteen years ago. The detectives summoned for Duel Noirs were determined on the basis of their DSC rank. Furthermore, the detectives with the highest DSC rank of [000] had apparently joined forces with Shinsen.[2]

Considering the facts, it wouldn’t have been at all surprising if the Detective Library and the Crime Victims’ Salvation Committee were secretly conspiring with one another.

If that were the case, then I was about to venture into the enemy base all alone.

Everything was fine. I wasn’t scared—

At least, I hadn’t been before I stepped off the bus.

To compensate for my fright, I marched through the doors towards the counter with my head held high, though I don’t think I was able to completely mask the fear on my face.

“Are there any messages for me?” I asked, flashing my Detective Library ID card to the grizzle-haired staff member at the counter. The thought that he could be part of the sinister organization crossed my mind.

He took my card into his hands and glanced at it before shaking his head. “There are none.”

“Then... Please update my record,” I requested.

With sluggish movements, the employee turned to the nearby computer and inserted my card into the terminal.

After a brief moment, he said, “There are no updates for you.”

“Wait, really?”

The employee gave a silent nod and handed me back my card.

Sure, maybe I wasn’t much help during the last Duel Noir, but I still expected my rank to increase by at least one. Alas, reality was unforgiving.

I stepped away from the counter and made my way into the archive room.

Countless files lined the organized rows of bookcases. The room was deserted and still, with the silence broken only by the sound of my footsteps echoing off the lofty ceiling. I weaved through the aisles until I reached the [9] section—homicide detectives.

I located Kyoko’s file, pulled it out, and flipped it open.

Nothing in her file had changed since the last time I visited. There was still not a single word written about the Norman’s Hotel case. It was possible that there was no record because Kyoko wasn’t summoned as the detective for that Duel Noir.

No, but the Sirius Observatory case was clearly listed in her file, even though she hadn’t been selected as the detective back then either.

Then, perhaps no record of the case existed because it hadn’t been made public. There were no reports of the case on TV or in the newspapers.

An idea suddenly popped into my head. I shuffled over to the [900] shelf and found the file for Suisei Nanamura, the double-zero class detective summoned for the Norman’s Hotel case.

His file overflowed with his glowing accomplishments. However, nothing alluded to the conclusion of the most recent case. Detectives who passed away normally had their profile column updated with their year of death, but Nanamura’s file contained nothing of the sort.

I had no doubt that Nanamura was dead. After all, he shot his head with a pistol, right before my very eyes. His body, along with the entire hotel, folded into the scenery and vanished into thin air.

Mikado Shinsen had folded his handkerchief inches from my face, and at the same time, the scenery behind it had been folded up as well. The whole scenario felt like a dream.

But Kyoko assured me that all of it was real.

“His handkerchief prevented you from witnessing the scene, but I can confirm that the hotel flipped into the ground,” she said.

“‘Flipped into’?”

After the case had concluded, the two of us returned to investigate where the hotel had stood, and we discovered the slightest of gaps beneath the base of the wall encompassing the area. According to Kyoko, the hotel had been standing on a thick board-like foundation that had a revolving axis running through its center, forming a mechanism that made it possible to flip the building into the ground to transform the property into a vacant plot of land. The wall served as camouflage, obscuring the gaps in the dirt.

Kyoko nodded. “You theorized that the walls in the hotel rooms rotated to create the locked rooms. But it wasn’t the walls that could flip—it was the building itself.”

The reason Mikado Shinsen used his handkerchief to block my view was likely to momentarily conceal the apparatus. A trick often used by magicians and illusionists alike.

Kyoko continued, “A device of unimaginable proportions would be required to smoothly rotate a building that large into the ground without making a sound. Perhaps all the locations used for Duel Noirs have mechanisms set up that allow them to appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. The buildings are normally kept out of sight, and only surface when a murder game is about to unfold.”

“Then how do you explain the surrounding scenery being folded up and vanishing?”

“I think it did exactly that—folded up and vanished. The background was likely designed so that it could be easily disassembled at any time, like folding backdrops used in plays. Since we can think of Duel Noirs as a kind of production, it wouldn’t be strange if even the scenery was constructed as part of the stage.”

Kyoko expressed confidence in her theory, but I couldn’t shake my skepticism. The Crime Victims’ Salvation Committee planned numerous crimes in many different locations. Did they really have the capacity to design all those elaborate devices and portable sceneries? All the money in the world didn’t seem like enough to accomplish that.

Money wasn’t the only limiting factor. The organization also needed a sufficient number of stagehands. Preparing and dismantling the set required a considerable amount of manpower, but the more people involved in the production, the more vulnerable the organization was to having its secrets leaked.

And yet, Duel Noirs were still being held without arousing public suspicion. Who knew how many challenges had been issued? However large the organization was, it must have been extremely meticulous and methodical in its affairs.

Just how many people were involved with the Crime Victims’ Salvation Committee? Was I simply too oblivious to realize that I was walking amongst its rank and file every day?

That thought caused chills to run through my body.

When Shinsen and the other Committee members left the scene that day, they made clear to us their tremendous financial power and their organizational capacity. And perhaps more terrifying, their ability to turn even the most ridiculous nightmares into reality...

If I had more thoroughly searched the scene back then, maybe I could’ve at least unearthed Nanamura’s corpse. As long as he and the other victims’ bodies remained undiscovered, the case would likely never see the light of day.

I let out a heavy sigh and returned Nanamura’s file back to its place on the shelf.

Perhaps a great number of the detectives listed in these archives were associates of the Crime Victims’ Salvation Committee.

Then, how many truly dignified detectives remained in the world? Even the triple-zero class detectives, who commanded the respect of many, belonged to the enemy camp.

I couldn’t let my guard down. The scene before me right this instant may very well have been a manufactured illusion.

With Kyoko missing, there was nobody whom I could place my trust in. How would I go about discerning between fact and fiction?

In the end, the Detective Library offered no clues relating to Kyoko’s whereabouts.

Since the library’s closing time drew near, I started making my way to the room’s exit. My eyes may have been playing tricks on me, but the room seemed to grow ever-so-slightly dimmer. The lamp above the door flickered on.

In the faint light, I motioned to step through the door frame, when all of a sudden—

A figure appeared, slipped past me, and entered the room.

A sweet scent lingered after them and found its way into my nostrils. The smell wasn’t artificial like a perfume; it was more pleasant and nostalgic, something that reminded me of flowers blooming at dawn.

The person who passed me was a young boy with bright, colorful hair.

He was dressed in a vest like an adult, with a suit jacket draped over his right arm. Without making a sound, he continued walking. I only managed to catch a glimpse of his face the split second we passed one another, but it was enough to make me gulp.

I had seen him somewhere before.

He wasn’t someone from my past, however. Rather, he reminded me of an angel in one of those religious paintings, or a sprite from a fairy tale gamboling in the sunlight. He was a pretty boy who looked strangely familiar, yet whose existence had to be that of a phantasmal being not of this world.

I spun around to try to get another look at him, but he had already disappeared. The faint aroma lingering in the air indicated where he went.

I felt like I had just seen a ghost.

Was that kid looking for a detective?

Something about him captured my imagination, but I decided not to dwell on things any further, and left the Detective Library empty-handed. To me, finding Kyoko was more important than wondering about some mysterious boy.

[1] (TN: "He” being Mikado Shinsen at the end of Volume 2.) [2] (TN: At the end of Volume 2, Yui and Kyoko see two of the three triple-zero class detectives—Gekka Ryuuzouji and Johnny Arp—leaving the scene of the hotel with Mikado Shinsen.)

Next: Chapter 1, Part 2

[lfthinkerwrites]

High School Teacher AU: Fraternization Policy

Superintendent al Ghul does not care for Ellen’s comic and Edward and Penelope finally get on the same page.

It had taken the better part of four hours holding Jonathan under a shower in the boy's locker room for the man to, somewhat, sober up. Edward and Jervis had deposited him in the nurse's office and went their separate ways when the lunch bell rang, Jervis off to the teacher's lounge, Edward to the guidance counselor's offices. Or rather, to one guidance counselor's office in particular. He passed Harley on her way out and she gave him a wink and a thumbs up. This made him even more nervous. Yes, nervous. Anyone might have thought he'd consider a private meeting with Penelope Young his due, but the truth was, Ellen's existence notwithstanding, he'd never really had an easy time talking with women. So for a long moment, he stood outside of Penelope's door and hesitated. What could she have to say to him? She'd been cold to him since they'd met at best, outright antagonistic to him at worst. It had only been in the past week that she'd shown any sign that she liked him. He took a deep breath, then knocked three times on her door.

"Yes?"

Edward steeled himself. Here went nothing. “It’s me,” he said.

There was a brief pause before Penelope responded. “Come in, Edward.”

Edward reached down to straighten his tie before he entered the office. Penelope sat behind her desk, pen in hand. Edward could see a notebook in front of her, which she closed as he approached. "You said you wanted to talk," Edward said. "Well, here I am. What did you want to talk about?"

He watched as Penelope brushed her fingers through her bangs. A nervous habit, he'd noticed. One of the many things he'd noticed about her. "Harley and Pamela told me something at the poker game last night," she said at last. She looked up at him then and Edward noticed that she looked almost...hopeful? Must be a trick of the light. "They told me that you're in love with me."

Edward's world stopped turning at that precise moment and a chill went down his spine. "T-they-did they now?" Goddamn them both. This wasn't how he wanted her to find out.

Penelope cocked her head slightly, her expression as blank as usual. "Are you?"

Edward could deny it, but he'd never been a good liar. "Yes."

Penelope looked almost taken aback. "You-you are?" Then the professional mask slipped back into place. "How long?"

Edward began to pick at the sleeve of his dress shirt. "Since I met you."

Penelope looked less than convinced by that. "Seriously?"

"Alright," Edward admitted. "I've been attracted to you since I met you. I knew I was in love with you the moment I saw you take Valentin down with your taser."

Penelope's mask fell again and she gaped at him for a long moment. "You-I-" then her face flushed and she looked almost angry at him. "Why didn't you ever say anything!?"

"What, was I supposed to come marching up to you and start slobbering over you like that cretin Bolton?" Edward said defensively. "I was slowly wooing you using my intellectual charms-"

"You were playing games because you were afraid of being rejected," Penelope finished, getting up from behind her desk. "I can't believe you! All this time, I thought you tolerated me at best, when we could have been-" she cut off, covering her mouth.

"'Could have been' what exactly?" Edward asked. Wait. Wait a minute. "You mean to tell me that you-how long have you-"

"I didn't fall for you at first sight or anything like that," she said quickly. "But...I'd be lying if I said I wasn't...attracted to you too, when you're not being an ass at least."

Edward felt his own jaw drop. She was attracted to him? That explained why she seemed to have his schedule memorized, how even though she was frequently irritated by him, she didn't shy away from being in his company. Then his own elation turned to irritation. "Why didn't you ever say anything!?"

"Becuase until a week ago, I didn't know if you even liked me!" Penelope shouted, walking up to him. "You seemed to delight in finding new ways to be obnoxious-"

"I'm like that with everyone!" he shouted back. "That's just who I am! Believe me, if I didn't like you, you'd know it!"

"That still didn't mean you couldn't have been honest with me!"

"Likewise!"

Penelope was about an inch away from him, fuming. "You are," she said in a low tone. "The most impossible person I've ever met, Edward Nashton." She grabbed a hold of his tie and yanked him down. "And I need you to kiss me."

Edward blinked once. He had heard that, hadn't he? "What?"

Penelope made an exasperated noise. "I don't want to waste any more time. We might not get another chance. Please."

Edward had both of his arms around her in a moment. "Alright." Then he leaned in.

"Well, I have to say, this morning could have gone worse," Gordon said with a confidence he didn't feel.

"Well, it certainly could have gone better," al Ghul said. "I thought you said that Dent had completed anger management!"

"He did," Bruce defended.

"Then why did he call that boy in his class a son of a bitch, a pipsqueak and a mad dog!?"

Gordon bit his lip. "In his defense, Machin has been a disciplinary problem since he was a freshman-"

"That doesn't excuse Dent using that language," al Ghul said with a finality that no one dared to speak against.

"Anyway," Vreeland said, clapping her hands together. "It's lunchtime. Let's go out in the quad."

The group moved through the still vacant cafeteria and into the outdoor quad, where most of the students chose to eat, given that the food trucks were still there. One crowded table caught their attention. As they moved closer, Bruce recognized Dick, Tim, Cas, and Barbara. "Hey kids," he said in greeting.

The group looked up as one and Bruce noticed that Harvey's daughter Duela and Nashton's daughter were at the center of the table. Nashton's daughter was scribbling away at something. "Hi, Bruce!" Tim waved. The other children gave polite greetings.

al Ghul nodded slightly at Nashton's daughter. "You're Edward Nashton's daughter, aren't you? The resemblance is striking."

The girl nodded. "Yeah. My name's Ellen."

"What are you drawing, Ellen?" Gordon asked.

"Nothing," she said a bit too quickly.

al Ghul frowned a bit. "It's not obscene, is it?"

"No!" Ellen shouted before remembering exactly who she was talking to. "It's for a comic Duela and I are making."

"The girls are very creative," Gordon explained. "Why don't you go ahead and show us?" Ellen and Duela exchanged a long look with each other before Duela shrugged. Ellen slid the paper over to Gordon. He took one look and his eyes nearly bugged out. "Oh my."

Bruce looked over his shoulder at the drawing and read the captions out loud. "Beautiful Captain Zodiac Sparkles and the Perils of the Perverted, Perfidious Professor Pyg?" The drawing was of a girl in fishnet stockings, steel-toed boots and a tight-fighting top doing battle with a grotesque figure holding a meat cleaver and wearing a pig mask. "This is based on Valentin, I take it?"

"Dad said we couldn't use Coach Bolton as the villain anymore," Duela explained. "So we had to make a new villain."

"And just why do you think it's appropriate to draw comics casting members of the faculty as villains?" al Ghul asked.

"Because one of them chased me with a meat cleaver, that's why!" Ellen argued. The other kids at the table said nothing, but Bruce caught Tim nodding in agreement.

al Ghul glared at Strange. "Is that true?"

"The situation has already been handled," Strange said. "I don't think this comic is appropriate, girls."

Duela rolled her eyes. "First we couldn't use Toxic Masculinity, now we can't use Professor Pyg? Lonnie was right, you guys are all a bunch of fascists!"

"'Toxic Masculinity'?" al Ghul repeated. "You drew Coach Bolton in your comic and named him 'Toxic Masculinity?"

"It's what he is," Ellen said. "Ms. Isley said so."

al Ghul took the comic from Bruce. "And your fathers know that you've been creating this?"

"Yeah," Ellen said. "My Dad says as long as he doesn't get sued for libel, he doesn't care."

"He would say that," al Ghul muttered. "Well, we'll just see what your guidance counselor has to say about this, young lady!" al Ghul turned on his heel and stormed back towards the school's interior, the principals and the school board scurrying behind him. It wasn't until the group had entered the cafeteria that it occurred to Bruce that Jason was absent from the table.

"Dr. Young's office is just down here," Gordon said, taking the lead as they walked down the hall that led to the guidance counselor's offices.

"What kind of counselor is she?" al Ghul asked.

"Oh, she's terrific. Very professional. Never had a complaint about her," Gordon said.

"So in other words, she's the opposite of Dr. Quinzel. Good," al Ghul said. The group had just arrived outside of her door when they heard a thump come from inside.

"What was that?" Falcone asked. A muffled groan came from inside the office and Gordon felt sick. He opened the door wide anyway. "Oh, good Lord!"

As soon as the door opened, they were greeted by the sight of Dr. Young perched in the lap of a shirtless Edward Nashton who was sitting on top of her desk. Both looked flushed and their hair was loose. Vreeland made a scandalized noise and left the room, along with Falcone. Strange and al Ghul looked like they were about to have an aneurysm. Nashton, for his part, kept his arms tight around Dr. Young's waist and gave the group a look of bored irritation. "Do you mind? We're on our lunch break."

This quip seemed to bring al Ghul to life. "What is the explanation for this!?"

Nashton shrugged. "Does paradise need an explanation, Superintendent?"

al Ghul's face turned dark red from anger, but Strange saw an opportunity. Nashton had given him the perfect excuse to send the irritant packing. "You do realize," he said in a slow tone, "That this is in violation of our fraternization policy? Faculty and staff are forbidden from having relations with each other."

Dr. Young looked like she was about to say something when Nashton interrupted once again. "We're well aware." He then turned his gaze to Bruce and let out a smirk. "Fraternization between members of the faculty and the school board is forbidden too, right Bruce?"

Bruce felt his face burn. That son of a bitch. al Ghul turned and gave Bruce a sharp look. "You and that gym teacher! I knew it! You whoremonger!" Then he did something unexpected. He backhanded Bruce.

"Superintendent!" Gordon cried out. Bruce took a deep breath to keep himself from retaliating. All the while, Nashton looked on smug, while Dr. Young looked somewhat scandalized. al Ghul stormed out of the office, Elliott, Fox, and Queen following. Bruce then glared at Nashton. If nothing else, at least one of the teachers would finally be removed-

"Edward! It's been forever! Nice to see you're doing well!"

Cobblepot stepped forward and Nashton let out a grin. "Ozzie!"

'Ozzie?' Bruce and Gordon exchanged a long-suffering look when they realized what this meant. Cobblepot and Nashton were friends. Nashton, and by extension, Young, Crane, and Tetch, probably, were untouchable.

"Well, let's not take up too much more of your time," Oswald chuckled. "Do feel free to bring your lady to the Iceberg Lounge. Drinks are on me!" Oswald let out another laugh. "You incorrigible young rascal!"

"See you soon, you old crook," Edward laughed. Oswald walked out, leaving the principals and Wayne no choice but to follow him. Wayne shot him one final glare before he slammed the office door shut behind him. Edward shook his head. "Well, that was amusing."

"If you say so," Penelope sighed. "You never told me you knew Oswald Cobblepot."

"Oh, Ozzie and I go way back. He got me my first programming job. And in my defense darling, you never asked."

Penelope raised an eyebrow. "Darling?"

Edward felt a bit flustered. "Well, I'm assuming that you want more than just a single furtive groping session in your office. Right?"

In response, Penelope got off of his lap and walked towards her office door. Edward's heart sank. Then he watched her lock it. She turned back towards him with a heated look in her eyes. "We still have fifteen minutes left for lunch break, you don't have computer lab until 1:30 and I cleared my calendar for the rest of the afternoon." She then slowly began to unbutton her blouse and Edward's brain shut down. "I'd say we're going to go a bit past a single session, Eddie."

Where had she been all his life?

[sketchynebula]

Scribbles, Chapter 3

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, You are here,

Scribble tag list: @mikado413 @pleasebringmerlinback @thecrimsoncodex @too-precious-to-process @skadinavien @lexi-love99 @lovisoverrated @kickthecel @rayndropsonrosez @lamp-calm-sanders@iaminmultiplefandoms @ffsas-side-account  @tree4life25 @thats-so-crash @sugarblob0 @pattongirl @fandoms-n-ship @izzynuggets  @pasteliosis @thisrandomperson102 @memepool1 @hayleycreagine @artistgracie @its-me-madzy @bunniicc

Content Warnings: Self-hate, parental death, short moment of slight dissociation, suicide, flashback of suicide, rejection, fainting, abandonment, emotional break down, descriptions of anxiety and breathing, verbal and physical bullying, neglectful adults

Pairing: LAMP

Word count: 4,725

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Angst

AU/trope: Soul-Mate AU  where whatever you write on your skin, it appears on your soulmate’s.

Summary: His mind worked over-time considering whether or not running to the other end of the building would be worth it, but as the fatigue from his sleepless night pressed into him, he decided it wasn’t. Today wasn’t going to be the day he decided to be punctual.Virgil’s English class was all the way across the school from his math class, so it was a long walk. Oh, and he also had it after math and that didn’t help his mood either.

There was a moment where he was sure that he would be late. His eyes peering into an empty classroom and checking the time, only to find that he technically only had three minutes to get there. His mind worked over-time considering whether or not running to the other end of the building would be worth it, but as the fatigue from his sleepless night pressed into him, he decided it wasn’t. Today wasn’t going to be the day he decided to be punctual.

By the time he had walked through the door to the classroom it had been a few minutes after the late bell. The class was all there, all 30 of them visibly acting every bit of ‘straight out of elementary school’ as one would suspect. Fortunately for Virgil’s attendance record, the teacher wasn’t there.

Unfortunately for Virgil’s eardrums, the teacher wasn’t there.

The teacher's desk was vacant, but clean with not a page of paper on it. That was probably just as well, since anything left unattended was almost certain to be looked through.

Virgil’s head was aching again. The windows poured bright light into the room and his head throbbed in pain with each noise that echoed in the class.

He moved to sit in the back, an area that was a little farther away from the windows and a little more closed off from the rest of the students. He sat, before laying his post-concussion head down. His arms wrapping around his head in order to try to muffle some of the sensory information.

He ignored all the kids around him, and they thankfully did the same, but somehow the mess of kids, middle school boys running around and girls talking loudly, made him feel even more closed off.

More isolated from everyone around him.

These kids ran around, laughing, with the privilege of being able to care about nothing more than homework and friendships. They weren’t nursing bruises and hiding concussions. They weren’t carrying drunk parents to their rooms at night and crying when new messages were written on their wrists.

He sniffed, the emotions swirling in him were too complex for his tired mind and he pulled his head off the desk before he could fall asleep. As he lifted it up, a piece of paper came with it, stuck to the side of his cheek.

As the paper floated back to the desk he looked around, seeing that a piece of lined paper was lying on the surface of each desk. A single word was written on the board, ‘Scribbles’, and just as a dawning sense of comprehension and dread filled him the teacher decided to make an appearance.

The teacher quickly bustled in the room, a familiar face that made Virgil stare unabashedly, eyes locking with the last person he wanted to see.

“Everyone sit down! I am sorry I’m late, it’s a long walk here from anywhere else in the school. That, however, does not mean you are allowed to descend to chaos in my absence.” She leveled the class with a glare. “I’m Mrs. Higgs, and I’m your English teacher.” Virgil felt his face flush, sinking into his desk. Of course she was. In his life there was no way that he wouldn’t have to see her everyday for a year.

“Today, we’re going to be working on a free-writing prompt, some children are better at creative writing while others are better at essays.” She turned moving to grab a few papers from her desk and having everybody pass one back, “It’s in my opinion that both aspects of writing and literature are important even if the curriculum only favours one, so I like to give the creative writers in the class space to like language arts and use it as a supplement to improve their writing. Everyday when you come in, there will be a writing prompt on the board, you will write for the first fifteen minutes of class and turn it in after for a daily grade, if you are absent you won’t have to make it up and it won't negatively affect you. this isn’t supposed to be a stressful activity it’s just to expand your mind and get credit for doing it. I am handing out the syllabi and then we are to get started on our prompt,”

As the papers moved from hand to hand, Virgil’s eyes helplessly looked at the prompt. Of all the things he hated the most the list topper had to be sharing his writing. He wasn’t any good, and there was never any reason that anybody in his life had to know anything about the personal inner workings of his mind.

“We’re going to start the fifteen minutes now, try your best to stay writing the entire time- go.”

Virgil’s hand shook as he glanced from the board back to his paper. Idea’s bouncing around his head, none of them he felt comfortable with a teacher reading.

Especially a teacher that hated him.

He gripped the pencil hard before he settled for a compromise. His hand was hesitant as he wrote the first words, mind halting every few letters before his brain started to flow into the mindset. His hand movements slowly evening out, moving to weave emotions in fictional scenes.

He pulled real events out of context and projected them on a fictional world. A world that Virgil wouldn’t have to be responsible for later. Taking what he itched to write for the prompt, what he itched to tell the world, to scream at every teacher that looked at him like he was a criminal, and pressing it against a safe grey area. Somewhere in the middle a place where Virgil can adamantly deny being related to any of the words that graced the page.

Virgil wasn’t done writing by the time the teacher asked them to pass their papers forward, but he almost threw his sheet at the person in front of him. Just wanting this to be over.

The rest of the class was uneventful. The only other notable event being when Mrs. Higgs’s raised an eyebrow at him during roll-call. Virgil would have nodded off after that, but he was tense. His eyes staring forward the entire class.

That didn’t mean he was paying attention at all though. He felt far away from the situation, away from the room and the light and the pain. All until he found himself jumping at the sound of the bell. His body temporarily going rigid before he moved to reach down under his desk. His body buzzed with nerves, antsy to get out of here, to spare himself the embarrassment of having to be around Mrs. Higgs for any longer.

He slung his backpack over his shoulder, students brushing his side as they moved pass him to get to the door, but just as he reached it himself Mrs. Higgs called him back. One of her hands clutching his free-writing assignment in her grip and beckoning him over.

“Don’t worry, You’re not in trouble.” She asserted to him as he glanced at her warily. His cheeks burning.

She motioned him to take a seat in a desk in front of her, “This will only take a moment, however I will write you a pass to get to your next class.” Her lips scrunched, brows furrowing in a stern way.

Virgil fidgeted as the flash of that memory passed through his brain. His mind was flooded with all the other things it brought with it. Saturday was fast approaching, only two days away as the week quickly ends. Everything that that meant was fresh in his mind. He swallowed hard and gripped his hands together in his lap.

“Virgil, you’re writing is- far beyond your grade level.” She said, eyes running over the page again before carefully placing the writing down on the desk and pushing it toward him. “Have you ever thought of taking up writing as a future career choice?”

Virgil can’t say he’d ever really thought about his future, he always assumed he wouldn’t have one to begin with.

He pulled the paper back towards him a full 10/10 points graced the corner of the page in red ink and he shrugged. The thought never crossed his mind.

“There's a writers competition, an annual event that i think i want you to participate in,” she cleared her throat, “though i must admit i have never chosen a participant this early in the year-” Pulling a few papers out of one of the locked drawer of her desk, she circled around to him handing him the papers, a list of careers and different applications of writing was there, along with a ‘Young-Authors Competition’ registration form, the top page of the stack had a bolded title of ‘what you can do with writing’.

Mrs. Higgs nodded to the pages, “I recommend doing some research on some possible careers in the meantime, only if you’re interested of course. perhaps a journalist, or even maybe an author?”

Virgil's face was awestruck, hesitantly he shrugged. His brain backtracking turning the words over in his head. Trying to find any alternative meaning in them than the one he was being presented with. Anything that would make more sense.

His writing wasn’t good by any stretch of the word. It was jumbled and unthought out, each word was meaningless, a product of his mind spewing out emotions that he trapped inside himself over the years. His pulse increased at the very idea of a competition.

A writing competition with people who spent their lives learning how to be good writers. Students who wanted to write since they were young and not someone like him. Him who only wrote because he never seemed to be able to speak.

His shaking was visible now and Mrs. Higgs reached out, hand resting over top his clenched fists, trying to get them to still. The warmth and weight of it made him look up at her concerned expression.

“The competition isn’t until December, you have time to think about it dear.” She said softly, “I, of course, won’t and can’t force you to submit something against your will, and I for one think you are all a little young to be able to fully decide what you want to be in life.” She said gesturing to the pages she had given him, “but it’s better to be well informed and say no than be poorly informed and say yes.”

She patted his hands, before pulling away and moving around the desk, hunching over it to quickly scrawl out the information on a hall pass, ripping it out in one fast motion and handing it to Virgil.

“However, i would at least think about it.” She finished eyes imploring as she turned away from him.

Virgil swallowed hard, standing slowly before his body went into overdrive. He pulled his backpack off the floor, collecting his items and almost running out of the room. The concerned eyes of Mrs. Higgs following him as he went.

Virgil moved out of the way of oncoming hallway goers, ducking through the hall as he made his way to flow onto the correct side.

His fingers nervously tear the edges of the hall pass he was given. He was at lunch, but he appreciate the sentiment more than anything else. Most teachers didn’t care enough to write him one anymore.

Which Virgil wasn’t blaming them for. When someone is as consistently late as he is there came a time where there wasn’t a point.

Virgil’s hand pressed into his pocket, shoving the pass deep inside with it, and he held the small stack of papers in his left hand, eyes glancing over the words and dates.

The bodies moving in the hallway brushed up against him in an uncomfortable ‘sardine can’ way. Shoulders hitting against his until one particularly hard shove had his side slamming into the row of lockers beside him. The disorientation was instant, and the snickering that followed confirmed Virgil’s immediate hunch. He angled his head to see Ricky and Fred’s backs as they passed down the hallway. Laughing to themselves.

Virgil’s hands balled themselves into fists, crumpling the papers, as he kept walking. Hunching into his frustration, and the brand new ache in his shoulder, he walked until he was able to carefully and discreetly duck into the school library. A small area that attempted to tightly fit book shelves and open desks together.

Virgil spared a glance at the librarian at the front desk, he managed to give them a small smile despite his mood, you always wanted to be on a librarians good side. His hands pressed the papers to his chest so nobody else in the room would catch a glimpse of their content, before he moved to round behind a row of bookshelves that were further back.

He hadn’t eaten in the cafeteria since his first week of first grade, the memory of having chocolate milk poured down his back was humiliating enough that he was willing to take steps to not have it repeated.

Virgil pressed his back into the bookshelf there, the knobs of his spine aching uncomfortably. He slid to sit down, hidden in the small nook that he had found. He dragged his backpack into his lap, his legs stretching out in front of him.

Unzipping the top of his pack with one swift motion, he pulled out his sad, sad, sack lunch. A bag that he’s pretty sure he just threw some bread and an apple in that morning.

Virgil frowned at the memory of that morning. His mother having sat silently in the kitchen, nursing a hangover, probably not even knowing that she shared a memory with him from the night before. A memory that his brain couldn’t help echoing back at him when things were quiet. The words ‘I’m glad you don’t have a soulmate’ making him feel guilty and paranoid all at once.

He hunched into his corner, not bothering to touch the bread as he bit into the apple. His unoccupied hand pushed the papers roughly into the backpack before zipping it back up and tossing the pack to the wayside.

“Hey, Verg?” James’s voice whispered out, starling Virgil, who inhaled a bit of apple as James rounded around a shelf. “Guess what!”

Virgil panicked for a moment, coughing before shrugging, his mouth full. James laughed, nodding his head “i feel that! anyway- you know how Mrs. Kace used to be the AP French teacher at the High-school?” Virgil paused, startled at the sudden topic of conversation. He slowly managed a shrug.

He typically didn’t make a habit of talking to teachers, at least not as a pastime, and especially those he didn’t have to directly deal with.

“Well, okay - i guess long story short- I have a chance to win a Trip to France under an exchange student program!”

Virgil’s chest was suddenly tight, his eyes wide in shock before he swallowed hard and tried his best to smile. His face split into more of a grimace.

“Yeah! I might get to be with Sarah!” James gripped his hands together, eyes dancing over the written exchanges they shared on his arms all in french.

Virgil, felt the bit of apple be was able to swallow sour in his stomach, he nodded jerkily to James.

“That’s cool.” He said, his voice weaker than normal.

“Right! Sarah says her parents are more than willing to house both of us and my mom says that if we present out soulmate status they will most likely give me citizenship,” James’s voice was hard pressed to continue to be a whisper, his voice slowly rising in volume as he continued his small, hopeful rant. “-I mean it’s France they’re like the epicenter for soulmate finding resources, you know, as long as i can prove i can speak French well and yadda yadda whatever, I’ll be able to meet her! Isn’t it great!”

It was. He was happy. It was so good for James. He had worked his entire life for something like this. Deciding to be a French translator in second grade when they had first started to write to one another and found out about the language barrier they had to overcome.

He was going to be with his soulmate. In a school that wouldn’t immediately mentally connect him with the outcast and ostracized him in turn. A school where Virgil wasn’t ruining his only chances at being a normal kid.

Why can’t Virgil just be happy for him, why can’t he just be supportive.

Why can’t he just let his soulmates be happy without him.

“That’s amazing, I’m so glad you two- I’m glad you guys get to see each other and stuff.” Virgil said, eyes void, stony and guarded and James’s smile slowly faded, eyes filling with recognition,

“Oh i am such a dick.” He said, a grimace pulling at the sides of his mouth, “dude, i’m sorry, i totally forgot, here i am telling you all about Sarah when everyone knows-,” He paused voice lowering, even quieter than a normal whisper now, and leaning in, as if what he was saying wasn’t common knowledge to every kid in this school district “- everyone knows you don’t have a soulmate” James tried to look Virgil in the eye but Virgil just shook his head.

“No, it’s fine.” Virgil shrugged and James just shook his head back,

“No it’s not, I just- i can’t even imagine-...” Virgil looked at James eyes imploring him to change the subject.

“Anyway?” Virgil said, voice more neutral than his previous tone.

James hesitated before he continued “Anyway… I- I’m just saying that if my french essay gets chosen for this thing in November i’ll be gone by next semester so…”

Virgil nodded his head. That was it. He suddenly felt like he didn’t have anything left to lose anymore.

Scribbles

Virgil's fingers raked through his hair, grimacing. It seemed to be greasy no matter how often he washed it.

He met the mirror with a blank stare. His eyes had started to form light bags under them from inconsistent and sometimes nonexistent sleep. His reflection looked as tired and pale as he remembered it.

The surge of fear that he felt while his shaky hands pushed his hoodie back over the mirror was enough to make him question why he was here. Standing around and holding up the only bathroom in a comic shop near the Cedar cafe.

Who was he kidding?‘Strip’s Spot’ was a geek safe haven that was literally right across the street from the hipster paradise that was the Cedar Cafe. It’s large glass doors and windows making the comic shop a safe viewing spot.

It was stalking, basically. Virgil recognized this to the point that it was almost tormenting him. He was stalking them now.

Or maybe he was always stalking them. His arms and hands containing personal information about them that they wouldn’t normally have shared with anyone they didn’t trust. The question ‘would they trust him’ bouncing around his head was promptly answered by every dark part of his mind, the resounding ‘of course not’ breaking him down a little more.

“But we’re soulmates” he whispered to himself eyes settling over the fabric of his hoodie. “We’re- we are, soulmates.” He stated to himself shakily.

They have to love him.

Their soulmates.

“emphasis on the ‘have to’ part” he mumbled to himself, echoing his thoughts out loud. His mind wavering. He pulled his hoodie away from its place precariously balancing on the mirror, pulling it around his shoulders. He thumbed the sleeves, eyes catching another unwanted glimpse of himself from the mirror before he turned to unlock the bathroom door.

As his hand wrapped around the metal and he spared a moment to try and pull on an at least semi-good neutral face. The kind of face one wore for a public area.

His eyes blinked from being in the darkly lit bathroom to suddenly being in a well lit shop. He took in the dark patterned carpet and the vivid posters once more. His eyes nervously glancing around at the few shop goers as he moved to stand near one of the windows. He pulled one of the comics off the shelf, hands thumbing through it as he pretended to brows, eyes glancing up at the people around him. He was trying so hard to be casual, though that could wrap around and make him seem weird, ‘too casual’ is a thing that exists.

Was he being too casual?!

His pulled himself away from panically staring at a random page of a comic book only to have his eyes connect with the window.

He felt paralyzed.

He didn’t know how he knew it, though it was probably because they were the only party there that was larger than two, but when his eyes landed on the three of them he knew.

It felt like he had known them forever.

They were all standing in the outside seating area just outside of the cafe, hugging, all three of them so elated.

A redshirted boy that Virgil can only assume was Roman was almost jumping up and down. The boy who was obviously Patton, wearing a rather warm looking puppy and kitten themed sweater, was attempting to hug each of them together. The last of them had to be Logan who was smiling a warm smile, and hugging back when it suited him. They all seemed happy and Virgil felt a sting of envy again. Their warm arms and faces were exchanging looks and touches.

Virgil was standing in a Comic shop.

They fit so well together, their arms and hands wrapping around one another like it was the most natural thing in the world.

They fit.

They just- they fit together effortlessly.

His entire life Virgil had never fit anywhere, Virgil had been time and time again shown that he didn’t belong with anyone.

Apparently not even his soulmates.

He watched their hands curl into one another and their faces breaking out in bright smiles. He watched them confirm every fear he ever had, knowing that he could never do any of those things. He could never jeopardize them that way. His hands were cold, and his very presence brought gloom.

He had no place with the three of them. Their colour and their light was gift he was supposed to admire not contribute to.

Not that he had anything to contribute to it anyway.

Virgil tried to shake a barrage of thoughts from his head, eyes watering. The loud sound of a honking car horn startled him, blurry eyes raising to barely make out the faces of just as elated adults waving to the group from a car. Virgil’s cheeks flushed, hands almost dropping the comic book he was now tightly clutching, another car stayed down a ways, the parents smiling.

Normal families.

Normal happy families that Virgil can contact and ruin, ruin the same way he ruined his.

A flash of his fathers cold hanging body made his brain silence, his chest suddenly tighten, his mind tilting until there was nothing.

He woke up all at once, and the moment he was standing to the moment he was waking up on the floor felt like a mere instant appart. A concerned store manager hovering over him, a hand at the back of his head checking for an injury.

He pulled away from the strangers hands, the man's voice was muffled, sounding too far away from the still reeling Virgil.

“-Would you like me to call your parents” The words came into focus like a lense, slowly and with a gradient in time between indecipherable and clear. Virgil shook his head.

Who was there to call?

As Virgil sat up on the floor, he tilted back a little to peer out the glass doors, seeing both the cars and his soulmates gone.

‘Probably soul-bonding’ he thought to himself. Swallowing hard. An aching feeling filling his chest made him turn his head, and stare at the carpet there, mind dully wondering if there was ever going to be a time when things started to hurt less.

Scribbles

The night was all consuming and the edge of the table pressed into him. The blankness of his arms made the sorrow crop up inside of him again. His hoodie discarded to the floor.

It didn’t feel like there was a need for it anymore.

“You don’t normally take the hoodie off.”

Virgil’s head snapped to the side, looking into the eyes of his mother, who he hadn’t talked too since three days ago. He swallowed hard at the tired disheveled look she had. Her eyes bruised with circles and hair tousled.

“Yeah.” He said, turning his eyes back to the wood of the table as he waited for her to go for the liquor cabinet.

His mother took a seat.

She put her purse on the kitchen table, heaving out a sigh as she pulled her name tag off and ran a hand through her hair. “I- I know I’m.. I’m a- failure of a parent.” She stated and Virgil’s heart ached.

“No. You’re not. You do everything you can-,” Virgil began but his mother spoke over him

“I don’t- I don’t do enough.” She said, turning the name tag over in her hand as she spoke.

There was silence then. All consuming silence as they both sat in their own turmoils.

Emotional grievance pulling them both into the darkest places of their minds.

“How did you-” Virgil started suddenly, his voice cracking. “How did you deal with dad- with you know…”

His mother looked away from him. Her eyes vacant again, her expression mirroring the look she gave him in the bathroom that night. Virgil’s heart braced itself. The wounds so fresh that he didn’t think he could take another disappointment.

“I didn’t.”

She stood, tears running down her face. Giving Virgil the most apologetic look he’d ever seen on another human beings face. She pulled herself away from the kitchen table, the apartment echoing around them both as she pulled open the liquor cabinet.

Virgil stood, eyes spilling and a hand covering his mouth. He stepped over the hoodie. Leaving it there.

He burst through the door to his room with the edges of hysteria gripping at him. His hands going to clutch at his hair, yanking until it hurt. The pain making his eyes water.

He thought about his mother, about the years of isolation and pain. He thought about his dad leaving the both of them for his mental illness, and he thought about inevitability.

The pressing feelings that he would end up just like the both of them. His mother who would never see her soulmate again, and drank to forget that. His mind working against his own happiness no matter how every talks about soulmates being the ‘cure for all ills’.

He would be just as broken up, just as lost and desperate. Another ghosting figure in a world that doesn’t care about anyone with anything other than a happy ending. He was a damned soul.

A soulless.

He was truly a soulless now.

His breath came out in harsh puffs and he collapsed, sitting on his bed, keeling over and folding in on himself until his chest rested on his knees.

His eyes rose for just a second, just long enough for the time it took for his eyes to connect with the haphazard pile of the pages on his desk. The writing information Mrs. Higgs had given him. All of them collected in a single spot, discarded and crumpled.

There was stillness. The tears running down his face continued and he stood. His body slowly moving. He gripped the first page, moving it aside to pick up the Young-Authors Competition Rules. His hand shakily gripped a pen. His knuckles turning white with the force, and he pulled a loose leaf sheet onto the surface.

Then. He wrote.

Chapter 4

[astromedea]

Times Like These

⚝ Synopsis: A student transfers to Aliraei K's school and claims to his classmates to be interested in her.

⚝ Genre: romance

⚝ Note! (synopsis needs revision)

⚝ Masterlist

<<previous | chapter 1 | next>>

"Hey, Ali! You should really get a boyfriend, you know!"

"Hey, Ali, so when are you getting a boyfriend?"

"Ali!" "Boyfriend!"

Ali sprawls down to her armchair.

"Ugh, why is everyone pestering me to get a boyfriend today?"

"Haha, well don't you get pestered a lot for that?"

"Yeah, but it wasn't this bad before geez."

"Ali, oh my gosh you have to hear about this!!"

"What? Are you going to tell me to get a boyfriend too?"

"Oho~ Maybe?"

"Hah?"

"There's someone who I think is totally your type that's interested in you!! He's in the arts and design strand!"

"How did you even get to know that if it was way over there?"

The arts and design strand is a bit far from our building. How could a rumor like that go so far?

"Plus, my type? I've familiarized practically everyone's faces in campus already. How could I suddenly have someone I don't know as my type?"

The campus isn't too big and I've been in this school since the start of junior high, that's why I've come to familiarize with everyone already, especially someone who was in our batch.

"Well, my great friend. The thing is, it's a transfer student! Didn't you always wished that we'd get a transfer student because you keep complaining that you didn't have a type with anyone else here?"

"Well..."

"Oh hey, you guys. Talking about Ali's transfer student boyfriend."

We looked up at the ever so charming Pryce. Heh, well I do have a type here, he's right here now in fact. Ah he never liked me back though so I gave up trying.

"Wait, transfer student boyfriend...? You know about that too?"

"Well, duh, he's part of my group. Our entire group knows. We went to the arts and design building to pass the group project to sir. Wait, you guys haven't passed yet? Oho~ does that mean you're gonna see this transfer student yourself?"

"Hah? I—"

"Group 2! Let's pass our project!"

Ah frick.

"Goodluck hihi."

I stood up, ignoring them with their smirks and head straight out to the hall to meet my group.

"Alright, everyone's here. We're going to pass the project to sir since he's already at the Arts and Design building!"

"Um excuse me?"

"Yes, Ali?"

"I'm... my head actually hurts right now. Can you guys go on without me?"

"Oh really?? I'll get medicine for you when we get back since we'll just walk by the clinic!"

"Oh, you'd do that? Thank you so much! Uh here's where the project is. If sir doesn't have a laptop when you meet him, can you just let him keep the usb drive and tell him to return it back to our group on our next meeting with his sub?"

"Okay! Thank you, you can count on us! And rest well too!"

I got back in the classroom and plopped on my desk again.

"Hm? Why are you here? Isn't required for all members of the group to be there?"

"I told them my head hurts and I can't go."

"Wait. Does it actually? Or are you just making that as an excuse so you won't have to show up on their building?"

"Both."

"You want us to get you to the clinic?"

"Ah no need for that. Lia volunteered to get medicine for me when they get back. And hey, my head might be throbbing right now, but that doesn't I can't understand what y'all are saying. You didn't get to explain to me, Rhie when I asked you how did you guys heard about that. Did they see you guys around here?"

"Luckily we didn't. We caught sir before he could enter the class so his class doesn't even know that we were there. But after we talked to sir and was about to head out, we heard from their room right away your name. We did a little snooping and peeked what was going on and it was this transfer student saying he was interested in you!!"

Hm... weird.

-> -> ->

[In front of Arts and Design 1]

"Excuse me sir! Group 2 from STEM 1, here to pass our project, sir!"

"Ah come in, come in."

"Ooo they're students from STEM!"

"Dude do you want to introduce yourself to them? They might introduce you to her~"

"This is one step closer to seeing her heheh."

I wonder who they're talking about?

"Hm? Why are you guys only 6? Aren't you all supposed to be 7? Didn't I say the whole group should be hear when passing the project?"

"Oh right, about that sir, Ali's head hurts so she couldn't come with us."

"Ali?" The teachers eyes the transfer student which he catches on. "You mean, Aliraei K, yes?"

"Um yes?"

That seemed to have made the class we were in rowdy. Everyone was nudging the unfamiliar guy in his seat and telling him to take care of her and whatnot.

"I see. But could you tell her to come here when she feels better tomorrow at the same time? I need all of my students to approach me in passing the output, but for her, just tell her to collect a 1/4 sheet of paper from each group written with their members and contributions. You group should tell the class directly about the 1/4."

"Okay sir! Understood!"

"Okay, all of you can go now."

As we got out of the room, we hear the class even louder now. Everyone was thanking sir, probably because he made Ali to show up.

"Was that a transfer student? Never saw him before."

"Yeah, and he seems interested in Ali."

"Wow lucky Ali, he looked so good!"

"Oh they would look so good together omg."

"I wonder if Ali knows."

"Do they even know each other?"

"Hmm maybe."

"Hey you guys shouldn't gossip about this when we get to our building alright? Ali doesn't like it when she gets teased!"

"Can we at least tell them that there's a new student in campus? A good-looking one at that!"

"But wouldn't that just lead them to asking if he was interested in anyone?"

"Well then just let them do the work to ask him himself! Anyway, let's not forget to go to the clinic first."

-> -> ->

"Sir asked me to what...? thank you for the medicine btw."

"you're welcome! To hand out those 1/4 by tomorrow yourself!"

"Heeeeh, destiny really wants you to meet the transfer student, Ali. There's no escape~."

"I guess your headache had just probably made the situation worse."

"Ugh can't you guys go with me? I don't want to go there alone!"

"Hm I do want to know who this transfer student is. You guys don't know what his name is?"

"I don't know who he is but I kept hearing them call him I think Warren?"

"Yeah, Warren's his name. Do you know him, Ali?"

"No. I don't know anyone named Warren."

"Wait, you already know about it, Ali?"

"Yes! I told her myself! Which was probably a mistake because I know even with a headache, she'd still want to go if she didn't know there'd be problems there..."

"I told you not to tell her~"

"Geez I'm even thankful you guys told me or I would've gotten an even worse headache."

"Well, you better get well soon then. You'll be going alone there tomorrow, after all."

"Hah?? Can't you guys go with me??"

"Ah I remember now, we have vacant classes at this time that's why we could all go there but tomorrow it wouldn't be so we can't accompany you."

"Ah yikes, it's miss Decap too. She doesn't like it when the one who asks for dismissal are a group of people, even just a pair wouldn't suffice for ma'am."

"Ugh my head's hurting way more. I'm going to be absent this afternoon."

"Oh? Are you going to have a beauty sleep so you'd look good tomorrow for him—?"

I hit Rhie lightly on her shoulder.

"Ugh no, I don't want to prolong this so it's to make this over with as soon as possible. If I went to school soon, who knows how worse this headache would be especially that I'm already expecting his classmates to be really loud."

I really hope things would just be fast tomorrow.

⁑ Enjoyed reading? Continue to the next chapter or go back if you missed something here! ⁑

⚝ Ch 0 <- Ch 1 -> Ch 2

⚝ Masterlist

[cbraxs]

Warped [Time Warp Trio Fanfiction] - Chapter 5

“A falafel a day is a falafel a day” is the fifth—no sixth— dumbest thing Izzy ever said aloud. She hadn’t meant to ask Joe the code phrase so soon, especially with Sam and Fred around; she’d wanted to ask him if she could use The Book to find her father. If it had the history of other people’s lives, then it must be able to tell her where her dad was and maybe even why he left.

But before she could ask, Izzy remembered her dad’s instructions to not go looking for him. She was torn. She wanted to know he was okay but didn’t want to disobey him.

Joe, Sam, Fred, and Izzy took a bus to Joralemon and found the bright green and gold dome-shaped falafel stand easily. Phil’s Fantastic Falafel sat next to a small, empty park away from the street. A few round tables sat around the stand, the large green parasols closed since there was no need to hide from the sun on such a chilly day.

A familiar looking Asian girl with long black hair in a high ponytail stood in front ordering from the smiling man. Izzy made a good first impression by bumping into her, too busy talking to the boys about a superhero movie to stop in time.

“I’m sor—”

The girl whipped her head at Izzy and sneered at her.

All the color drain out of Izzy. “—reeeeeeee?”

The girl cocked her head and said in a raspy voice, “Excuse me?”

“I-I said I was sorry.”

Another second of leering before the girl made a sound of disgust and turned away, grabbed her order, and tipped the cashier. When she spun back around, the annoyed look still in her eyes, Izzy leapt back, bumping into Joe behind her.

“What was that about?” the girl asked.

“I’m giving you your space.”

“That ’sposed to be sarcasm or something?”

“I can’t sarcasm on purpose.”

The girl raised an eyebrow and stared down at Izzy like she was trying to figure her out.

Izzy gulped. “Every time I’ve been sarcastic it’s been on accident or when I’m mad, I can’t control it, I swear.”

The girl shook her head. “Tch. Space cadet.”

Fred stepped forward so he was indirectly between them and fixed the girl a hard look. “Hey, lay off her.”

The girl paid no attention to Fred. She strolled past them, shouldering Izzy as she headed down the sidewalk and eating her falafel.

“I swear I saw her eat the foil,” Sam muttered when she was far enough.

Izzy ran a hand over her hair. “Why do I anger the people I mildly inconvenience?”

“It could’ve been worse,” Joe said. “With what I heard about her.”

“You know her?”

“Everyone does,” Fred said. “Rin goes to our school. That chick breaks femurs for kicks. Like, she literally kicks them to break them.”

Izzy blanched. “What?!”

“That was just a rumor. All she did was…” Sam winced as if he were remembering something horribly unpleasant, “snapped a kid’s collarbone.”

“Why did she do that?”

Joe shrugged. “Why would you snap someone’s collarbone?”

“I wouldn’t snap anyone’s collar bone!”

Izzy stared in the direction Rin went, her dark hair disappearing into the crowd, and a wave of anxiety wash over her. Going to a new school was hard enough (even if she didn’t leave any friends behind or even teachers she liked), she didn’t want to deal with someone already hating her for something so small.

Fred affectionately shook her shoulder. “Don’t worry. Just bust out that kung fu magic like you did earlier and you’ll handle her no problem.”

She didn’t know whether to tell him it was actually tae kwon do, not kung fu, or she’d prefer not to fight people if she could help it.

Joe patted her on the shoulder. “Ignore her—and them,” he tossed a glance at Fred and Sam, “I’m sure she won’t even bother you again. C’mon. Let’s order.”

The guy manning the stand—who must’ve been Phil—smiled as the three put in their order. When it was her turn to order, Izzy asked for the, “Paladino Supreme, please?”

“Paladino Supreme? ” Sam asked, squinting at the menu. “I don’t see that anywhere.”

“It’s on the secret menu,” Izzy said. “A lot of food stands have a version of it if you ask.”

Thankfully, Sam nodded, seemingly accepting Izzy’s lie. She felt a little guilty but knew she couldn’t tell him the truth.

Phil didn’t even flinch at her made up order. “Of course, darling.” He magically prepared their orders pretty quickly and handed them their food. The boys grabbed a table as Izzy stayed behind to pay.

She fished out her wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house, darling.”

Too stunned to argue, Izzy thanked him and stuffed a wad of cash into the tip jar.

He smiled, blue eyes twinkling. “Thank you, Isadora.” He had a faint accent she couldn’t place. “You’re as sweet as I remember—from what Anthony’s told me, I mean.”

She glanced at the boys to make sure they couldn’t hear her before leaning towards the man. “You know my dad? How? Can you tell me where he is? I know I’m not supposed to look for him, but I need to know if he’s okay.”

He looked away, scratching his cheek. “I’m not authorized to—”

“Please?”

Phil looked back at her, his shoulders sagging. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering quietly, “Dammit, Em,” then said, louder, “look, Isadora. Your father is fine. He’s capable, smart, and knows what he’s doing.”

“But what is he doing?”

“He’s doing his best to keep you safe. And when he’s done, he’ll come home and explain everything. I promise.”

Izzy huffed and resisted the urge to stomp her foot like frustrated little kid. Why did she always have to be left in the dark? Why couldn’t her father ever tell her what was going on? She wasn’t fragile, she was fifteen, but ever since the death of her mother, he’s been twice as protective.

Not that she could blame him. Izzy understood where he was coming from and knew he only wanted her to be safe. She got that, but she wished she didn’t have to put up with secrets all her life.

She slinked back, her eyes cast on her shoes. “Fine.”

Phil chirped, “Now that you’ve moved into a new place and found the magician named Joe, I can report to your father that you’re safe.”

“So you do know where he is?”

“Yes… and no. It’s complicated. I can’t tell you anything beyond that. It’s classified.”

Izzy frowned. “Who are you, exactly?”

“Also classified.”

Izzy huffed. “Alright. If you see him, can you tell him I love him and… and come home safely. We need to talk.”

Phil smiled, but his eyes were so sad it shocked Izzy. “Of course, Isadora.”

She thanked him again and returned to the three talking and enjoying their food at the table.

Joe was the first to notice her expression. He looked at her, concern. “Everything okay?”

“Was he giving you trouble?” Sam asked.

Izzy shook her head and forced a smile. “Everything’s fine.”

Fred and Joe nodded and went back to eating their food (or inhaling, in Fred’s case). She could’ve sworn Sam curiously narrowed his eyes at her, but the look disappeared as soon as she noticed it.

For the next couple hours, the four of them hung out. They talked about games and movies and goofed around. When it was time for them to all go home, they all exchanged numbers.

She hadn’t exchanged numbers with other kids in years. She looked at the three new numbers in her phone in between her parent’s, Auntie Em’s, and the nonemergency police number. With the additional numbers, she could actually scroll through her contacts.

She couldn’t believe she made new friends on her first day to a new school. Izzy tried to contain her happiness; she didn’t want to get strange looks by giggling like a dummy on the bus.

Again.

The bus ride served to calm Izzy and give her time to think. Despite her father’s orders to find a particular boy she’s never met before, take Bess and Houdini, (her pet rabbits, not the people she met earlier), move to a new apartment, and go to a new school, her father disappearing for short periods of time was nothing new. She dealt with it before and this would be no different.

She’d hoped.

Her dad would be back in a week, two weeks, tops. He’d be fine, and when he got back home, she’d introduce him to her new friends.

~*~

Over the past three weeks, Izzy in the group was quickly becoming the new normal. She accompanied the three of them to their trips to the mall, study sessions, and biweekly visits to Ray’s pizza. Thankfully since they met, there’ve been no accidental warps, and Izzy was slowly becoming more and more comfortable around them. In fact, Joe even asked her to help him with his performance for the talent show since they got along well. It also didn’t hurt that she would make a way lovelier assistant than Fred.

Despite their growing friendship, Izzy was absent during their—completely on purpose and mostly controlled—trips to the future. Most recently Joe, Fred, and Sam took a trip to 2111 for Jodie’s Sweet Sixteen. Unfortunately, Izzy couldn’t make it since she had tae kwon do class, but on a positive note, this gave them extra time to figure out how to introduce a friend to their great-granddaughters from the future.

The first Saturday of Izzy teaching Joe magic, they hung out at the vacant basketball court a block from his house. He sat crisscross across from her with a basketball on his lap while she drew circles over and over again with a piece of chalk.

“I’m sorry.”

Joe frowned. “What’s up?”

A twist of her earrings. “I should’ve mentioned this sooner, but only some people have natural magical abilities. I’ve heard there’s a test for it but I don’t know how to perform it.”

“Huh.” That was news to him. Admittedly, Joe didn’t know much about real magic. The only person he could ask, his uncle Joe, was frequently away and insisted on never getting a phone.

“Have you ever used magic before, or have had an outburst of some kind?”

He told her about the first time he ever slowed down the time of an object using his mind.

Izzy dropped her chalk and stared at him like he admitted to walking on water. “You’ve done that? Seriously?”

“Yeah. Is that good?”

“It’s incredible! Centralized time manipulation? Controlling time is one of the hardest things you can do. I was pretty sure it was impossible before we warped.”

Joe rubbed the back of his head kind of flattered. “Well, besides the first time, I’ve never done it on purpose, any of the times it happened.”

There’ve been a couple times over the years Joe, Sam, and Fred were in a jam and Joe—somehow— was able to slow the time around objects: bullets flying at them, the three of them falling out a window, a cranky old woman throwing rotten fruit at them. Most of the time, he’s done it completely by mistake.

Izzy’s jaw dropped. “You’ve done it more than once?”

“Yeah.”

“Pfft. Way to humble brag. You sure you even need me?”

“Yes! I mean there’s still things I have no clue about. Like do spells have to be spoken in pig Latin? Why not Spanish or Hebrew or, y’know, actual Latin?”

Izzy picked up the piece of chalk and frowned at it. “I… don’t know, just how it works. Even for nonmagical people, they can use pig Latin to make magical items work. Like wands or other items.”

“Or The Book.” Joe remembered Sam and Fred telling him about the time they and Samantha warped to Russia. She used The Book to bring objects from the past into the present, but she never demonstrated any magical capabilities outside of that.

Izzy nodded. “For magical people, speaking in pig Latin helps us concentrate and focus our energy for what we want to do. Think of words like, uh, training wheels. A skilled wizard or witch really doesn’t need it –although, in some instances, it can help conserve energy—but for a newbie or someone learning how to use magic for the first time it’s an excellent crutch.”

“The first time I did magic,” Joe said. “I didn’t use any pig Latin, though. I was speaking English.”

Izzy shrugged. “It must’ve been a coincidence. You spoke in English but you were doing the spell regardless.”

She snapped the piece of chalk in half in one hand. “Soon, it’ll be like second nature to you and you’ll do it without thinking. I used to levitate pencils in class when I was bored without thinking about it. I even, um…”

Izzy cast her eyes away from his, an embarrassed glow around her. Joe quirked a brow.

“You even what?”

“I used to steal snacks and soda from vending items when no one was looking.”

Joe laughed. “You? Stealing?” He couldn’t imagine it. She seemed too innocent to even jaywalk or download music without buying it first.

She blushed. “Just promise me you won’t abuse your power like I did.”

“No promises.”

Izzy fixed him with a look, but Joe could tell she was trying not to smile. He couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Anyway,” she said, “before you begin to practice magic, there’s a bunch of reading and meditation you’re supposed to do... But that’s dull and boring, which is why we’re going to nix it. I believe you learn best by doing. So, I’ll have you start by moving the basketball.”

“Okay, and how do I do that?”

Her face screwed up in thought. “Hmm...”

She exhaled, the tension in her face fading away. Silently, she raised her hand and the basketball hovered in the air, surrounded by a transparent green aura. She spoke, her voice more controlled than he ever heard before, “I think of my arm extending beyond myself, changing shape, and surrounding the ball. I get this tiggly-wiggly tug in my gut—”

“Tiggly-wiggly?”

“Yes, hush. I can basically call on this feeling whenever I want; I channel it into exerting my will over things.”

She blinked and looked at him quizzically. “Am I making any sense?”

“I think so,” Joe said. “Let me try.”

Izzy lowered the basketball and the glowing stopped. Joe lifted his hand at the ball and stared at it, focusing on calling forth the “tiggly-wiggly” feeling for a moment then a minute. Sweat dripped down his temple. He concentrated, and concentrated…

“Do you remember the feeling?”

Joe jumped. Izzy covered her mouth to cough, but Joe knew she was laughing.

“Sorry. I was going to say when I first starting practicing, it was pretty… let’s say sporadic. My dad told me to close my eyes and focus on the sensation instead of the object and work outwards from there. That might help.”

Joe said okay and tried to do that.

He closed his eyes and tried to recall how it felt. He thought about the time his friends and his sister warped to ancient China. He remembered when Wang shot an arrow at Anna, how terrified he was when he thought he was about to lose her, his only option when he could get to her in time—

Joe gasped. “I felt it! I felt the tiggly-wiggly! …and I’m really glad no one was around to hear me say that.”

Izzy clapped her hand. “Do it again! You’re so close.”

Joe thought about the feeling again, and slowly, he was able to conjure it again. It traveled from his gut, up his arms, and to his hands. He opened his eyes and channeled it into making the ball…

“Iseray.”

A green aura surrounded the ball as it shakily rose into the air. He raised his arm and the ball hovered higher into the air above him.

Izzy cheered. “You did it!”

She hugged him, catching Joe off guard. He lost his concentration and dropped the ball… right on top of Izzy’s head.

“Ack!”

“Sorry!”

“I-it’s okay.” She beamed at him. “You did great.”

Over the next week, Joe spent some of his free time practicing levitating objects about the size of the basketball. Eventually, he could do it almost effortlessly and didn’t even need to speak any magic words.

Fred, Sam, and the girls were impressed at first, much to Joe’s amusement. For years now, they’ve been dismissive of his abilities as a magician and now he could do real magic. Their shocked reaction felt like a personal victory until he ruined it by showboating every chance he got and ruined the novelty of his new trick quickly. Next time, we wouldn’t wear out the freshness of the next new spell he’d learn.

Still, who could blame him, really?

The next Saturday afternoon, the four of them hung out at Ray’s Pizza. They crowded around the pinball table, watching Izzy beautifully fail at playing pinball. She frantically jabbed the buttons on the side hard enough to dent the machine over and over, but somehow the balls kept falling through.

Besides Joe, Fred leaned on the pinball machine and pounded the top of the glass as he laughed, rattling Sam’s plate and Joe’s cup. “How are you so bad at this?”

Izzy’s eyes squinted in focus and frustration. “I’ve never pinballed before. Am I doing something wrong?”

Across from Joe, Sam dabbed some grease off a piece of pepperoni pizza with a napkin and smirked. “Yeah, you actually have to hit the ball.”

Izzy’s brow furrowed. “Wait. I have to hit the ball?”

Joe laughed and cracked his knuckles. “Move aside, Iz. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

“Please,” Fred said, “you’re almost as bad as she is.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Sure. I like my odds.”

Joe was about to retort with the stakes of their bet when Sam interrupted, “Hey, isn’t that Anna?”

“Your sister?” Izzy perked up and looked over to where Sam was pointing. “When did she get here?”

Joe glanced at Anna out of the corner of his eye. She sat alone at a table on the far end of the room. Her back was turned to them, but Joe recognized her spiky hair and pastel sweater.

Fred placed his chin in his hands. “Didn’t your mom say she was at a birthday party or something? What’s she doing here?”

“You think she got kicked out again?” Sam asked.

Izzy frowned, concerned. “We should invite her over to hang out with us.”

Joe sipped from his soda. “Nah, I’m sure she’s fine. Ignore her and she won’t bother us.”

“Are you sure?” she insisted. “I wouldn’t want her to be— oh, cute! You didn’t tell me she has a boyfriend.”

“She doesn’t.”

Izzy pointed behind him. “Then who’s that guy?”

Joe turned. A boy with dark spiky hair, a ripped shirt from that rock band Anna liked, and baggy black jeans with enough chains to tie Anna to a railroad track walked to the table carrying two plates of pizza. He slid into the seat next to Anna and kissed her on the cheek.

Joe practically did a spit take in Sam’s direction.  

Sam jumped back. “Ah! Disgusting!”

Joe put his fingers to his lips. “Shh!”

“Hey, don’t shush me—”

“Shh!”

Sam looked incredulously at Fred. “He did it again.”

Joe glared at the two across the room. “Since when did she have a boyfriend? ”

“Your sister has a boyfriend. Big deal,” Fred said. “So, are we gonna do this thing or—”

Joe was already halfway down the restaurant, sneaking up on Anna and the mystery guy, occasionally hiding underneath tables and behind the Grecian columns when it looked like they were going to glance in his direction. He crouched behind the both the two shared and motioned for the three of them to join them.

Sam groaned. “Are we really going follow him?”

Evidently, yes. The three of the followed Joe to where he was hiding—not even bothering to sneak— and squatted next to him.

“You know,” Fred whispered, “stalking your sister was exactly how I wanted to spend my Saturday.”

“Isn’t this a breach of Anna’s privacy?” Sam asked.

“Please! All the times she’s breached my privacy?”

Anna was always spying on him or had her nose in his business.

“I’m not sure about this Joe,” Izzy said.

“I just want to check this guy out—”

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” a voice said above them, “but you know we can hear you, right?”

The four of them looked in the direction of the voice. The mystery guy and Anna looked down on them; him with a confused expression, her with a look of fear and annoyance.

Izzy waved. “Hello.”

Anna sneered at them. “What are you doing?”

“We’re being awful ninjas,” Fred said.

Joe stood and crossed his arms. “What do you think you’re up to?”

“Minding our own business.” Anna took a sip of her soda. “Maybe you should take a cue.”

Joe ignored Fred laughing next to him, and said, “You’re gonna be in so much trouble when we get home.”

“What’s with the angry dad routine?” Sam whispered to Fred and Izzy.

Joe rolled his eyes and was ready to refute Sam’s claim, when Anna said, “Can’t you leave us alone and give us since privacy?”

“I’m surprised you even know what that word means.”

Izzy put her hand on Joe’s arm. “C’mon. Let’s leave them alone.”

“Yeah, Joe,” Fred chimed in. “We still got pinball to play.”

The boy’s face lit up. “Oh, you’re the Joe I hear so much about.”

Anna blushed and nudged him. “Matty…”

Joe’s eye twitched. Matty?

Matty held out his hand to Joe and smiled. “Matthew Garcia. Nice to meet you. Anna’s told me a lot about…”

Joe glowered at him.

Sweat dripped down Matthew’s temple. “Uhhh…”

Izzy jumped in and shook his hand. “Hi Matthew, I’m Izzy. Ignore Joe, he’s cranky.”

“Hey!” Joe protested.

“Hi, Izzy. Why is your boyfriend so upset?”

She kept smiling but there was a blank look on her face like Mathew asked her a question in Spanish. “My wha…?”

Joe stepped forward. “She’s not my girlfriend and we’re going home. Come on, Anna.”

“You can’t just make me go home!” Anna said.

~*~

As soon as they were home, Joe busted Anna to their parents.

Izzy sat with Fred and Sam in Joe’s room while the two played some fantasy RPG video game they were engrossed in. As she watched them play, she couldn’t help but eavesdrop, picking up parts of Joe and Anna’s shouting match from the kitchen downstairs.

“This is so unfair,” Anna whined. “My life is none of your beeswax!

“You’re way too young to date, Anna,” Joe said.

“You’re not the boss of me! Besides, he was on a date, too.”

“Again, Izzy’s not my girlfriend! And even if she was out wouldn’t change anything.”

Izzy spun her earrings. “So, is this awkward, right? Am I’m reading this situation correctly?”

Fred didn’t peel his eyes from the screen. “Pretty much.”

Izzy felt somewhat responsible for this situation. If she hadn’t pointed out Matthew at the restaurant, then Joe wouldn’t have ruined their date. She didn’t get what he was so upset about. Granted, she would probably be protective of her younger sibling if she had one, but Matthew seemed nice enough, sweet even.

“I feel bad.”

“Don’t. They fight all the time. Wish they didn’t fight in the kitchen, though.”

Sam sighed. “Why don’t you carry snacks with you wherever you go?”

“Uh, because I eat them?”

“We should help them out,” Izzy said. “Siblings shouldn’t fight.”

Fred snorted. “Spoken like an only child.”

“How do you plan to do that anyway?” Sam asked.

Izzy wasn’t sure. She never had to be a moderator between two parties. She looked at the door, wishing there was something she could do to fix this situation.

~*~

“I bet you’re just mad I’m dating before you are!”

Joe’s ears burned at Anna’s accusation. “That’s ridiculous! I—”

“Kids. That’s enough.”

The sound of their father’s powerful voice was enough to get the two to stop arguing. They both simultaneously straighten and turned to face their parent.

The four of them were sitting around the kitchen table at their parent’s request. They sat across from them, with Anna scooted away from him.

“Joe,” his mother said. “We understand you’re worried about Anna, and your father and I can’t be happier that you’re concerned for her safety—”

Anna blew out an exasperated breath.

“—but we can handle her.”

“Yeah, Joe!”

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, young lady,” Dad said. “You’re still in trouble for not telling us about your boyfriend.”

Anna sulked in her chair. “Oh.”

Joe stopped himself from smirking if only because he knew if he did, he’d get that look from his mom.

“Your mother and I need to discuss whether we should let you continue seeing this Matthew boy or not—”

“What? But Dad, I—”

“And you’re grounded for a week for not telling us,” Mom finished.

Anna’s mouth hung open like she was in shocked, but nodded, sulking further into her seat.

At that, their parents kicked them out of the kitchen so they could talk. Once they were far enough away in the living room that their conversation was muffled, Anna spun on him, glowering at him so fiercely he stopped dead in his tracks.

“I know you’re jealous of me. It’s sad.”

“Tch. Get real. What’s to be jealous of? Your stuffed animal collection or your knowledge of celebrity birthdays?”

“It’s true! I get a boyfriend before you get a girlfriend. I get better grades than you do. I’m better at using The Book than you are—”

“Whoa! First of all, no you’re not—”

“I am! And I know you hate me for it. You hate me for everything.”

Joe froze, stunned silent.

She hugged herself and murmured, “The one time you pay attention to me and you go and ruin everything.”

“Anna, I don’t—”

“Stay out of my business and leave me alone, okay?”

Joe watched as she stormed up the stairs to her room, too stunned to move.

Anna thought he hated her?

Sure, he was being kind of tough on her, but only because he was worried about her. Didn’t Anna see that? It had to be more to it.

He thought about what she said about The Book. Admittedly, she was better at using it. Whenever she took it (without asking, of course. She never asked.) she’d would rarely, if ever, have trouble warping and she never lost it. It was his Book, but of course, she had to be better at using it than he was.

Joe kept The Book away from her whenever he could and would only begrudgingly bring her along with them on their warps if they were seeing the girls. Joe would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous, but he never considered how it would affect how he treated her.

It wasn’t just The Book, now that he was thinking about it. He ignored her a lot and would exclude her from activities when Sam and Fred were over. Joe acted like he never wanted her to be around.

Of course Anna thought he hated her.

Joe rubbed his hands over his face and fell against the living room wall. He slid to the floor and when he looked back up, there was Izzy, standing frozen like a statue mid-step in a spot previously behind him and staring at him like a deer caught in headlights.

His face heated. “Were you—”

“I swear, I was coming back from the bathroom and I saw you two arguing and I froze and I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I’m sorry!”

Her words ran together so fast, in another situation it would’ve been funny, but Joe just groaned and covered his face again, too embarrassed to look at her.

“Joe,” Izzy said softly, the wood creaking underneath her feet as she crept closer and knelt in front of him. “I’m sorry. Are you… are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Joe flattened out imaginary wrinkles in his jeans, avoiding eye contact with her. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“I see. This is your fine face, not your pouty face?”

“So what if it is?”

Izzy flinched and stared at the ground. He felt like a bigger jerk for snapping at her; yelling at Izzy was sort of like yelling at a bunny.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Joe sighed. “This whole thing with Anna is kind of upsetting.”

“Why?”

“She’s only thirteen and she’s dating some... well, you saw him!”

“He seemed nice,” she said. “You can’t judge someone completely by their looks.”

Joe rubbed the back of his neck. “I know, I know.”

“Maybe you should go talk to her.”

“Yeah, right. You saw how it went last time.”

“I mean with a nicer approach. Don’t go for the ‘Angry Dad’ approach.”

“Ha ha.”

Izzy nudged him. “I’m serious. If you handle this now, you’ll feel a lot better. I can even go with you if you want, for emotional support.”

She smiled reassuringly at Joe as he considered it. Despite everything, he did want to make amends. Izzy was a girl after all. Maybe she’d be a good mediator between the two.

“Alright.”

Joe trudged up the stair with Izzy in tow and stopped in front of Anna’s door. He reached to knock on the ajar door and hesitated. He looked to Izzy who gave him an encouraging smile. He knocked softly on the pink door. “Hey, Anna?”

No response. He knocked again, harder this time.

The door slowly swung open, revealing the room and Anna, who was sitting on her bed, flipping through pages of The Book.

Joe marched in, forgetting all about Izzy and his plans to apologize. “What are you doing?!”

Anna jumped and looked at them, staring at Joe like a toddler who was caught stealing cookies. “Oh, fart.”

“How did you steal The Book. Fred and Sam were in the room.”

“Oh, please. You know how they get when they play—hey!”

Joe grabbed The Book and tried to yank it out of her hands. “You have no right to be in my business!”

Anna pulled back on it. “You’re such a hypocrite! Besides, I’m trying to prove a point!”

They jerked The Book back and forth like a game of tug-o-war, trying to pull it out of the other’s hands.

Izzy unfroze herself from underneath the threshold and darted over to them. “Don’t fight, you two! We can—”

With a final tug, Joe wrenched The Book out of Anna’s hands and whacked Izzy in the face. Immediately, green mist pooled out of The Book entangling all three of them.

Anna’s scowl was visible past the fog. “Great! Look what you—”

And midsentence, the three of them were tossed through time.

~*~

The three of them landed on a speckled linoleum floor with a thud and an oof. Joe sat up and took a quick look around to make no one was trying to kill them in that instant. They were in a hallway across from bathrooms and a snack machine on one end. Classical music played overhead. There was a soft din of conversation from the other end of the hall turned off to the left leading to somewhere.

Where the heck where they? Did Anna mean to warp them to some random hallway?

He scowled at Anna as she stood. “Congrats, Anna. You sure proved you're better with The Book than me.”

She brushed some dust off her pants then put her hands on her hips. “How is this my fault? You were yanking The Book out of my hands!”

“Because it’s my Book!”

“Ugh…”

They both turned to see Izzy cupping her eye where Joe hit her, a pained look on her face.

“Izzy!” Joe cried. He completely forgot all about her, even after he hit her in the face. Joe helped her to the bench against the wall, ignoring Anna rolling her eyes. She mumbled something about going to the bathroom and left before Joe could say anything.

Joe turned back to Izzy. “I’m sorry I hit you.”

“It’s okay.” She forced an unconvincing smile. “You didn’t do it on purpose, and besides it doesn’t hurt that bad.”

It looked like it hurt that bad. There was a small bruise forming around her eye and she was squinting a bit.

“We should probably find you some ice or something.”

“Is there ice here?”

“I don’t even know where ‘here’ is.” Joe sighed and grumbled, “We wouldn’t even be here if you didn’t insist I say sorry.”

Izzy’s shoulders droop and she looked at the floor. “You’re right and I’m sorry, but I wanted to help. I hated to see you two fight.”

Joe softened begrudgingly. While he was still kind of upset at her, he also appreciated her efforts and the fact she cared enough to try. Before he could tell her so, Anna was back. She handed Izzy a wrapped ice cream sandwich.

“I got it for your eye,” she explained. “And a snack for later.”

Izzy looked at her, surprised but clearly grateful. “Thank you, Anna.”

Anna flashed her a grin. “Don’t mention it. Now, let’s find The Book and get out of here.”

“Where is here, anyway?” Joe asked.

Izzy shrugged. “One way to find out.”

The three of them walked to the end of the hallway until they came across a set of elevators, both with a down button. They agreed to go down it, starting at the bottom and working their way up if need be.

Anna nonchalantly glanced at Izzy as she punched the button. “So, Izzy, do you have any annoying siblings you wished would stay out of your business?”

Joe scoffed. “Really?”

“I’m an only child,” Izzy said.

“Must be nice.” Anna shot him a look.

“I don’t know. It’d be nice to have some company when my dad’s away instead of just me and my rabbits.”

“What about your mom?”

“She’s dead.”

Izzy’s eyes were distant and a little watery. Joe already knew, of course, but he still never knew how to respond when it was brought up. Izzy would probably deny it, but it made him feel like a crummy friend.

“How’d she die?” Anna asked.

“Seriously?” Joe hissed.

“What? I was just asking.” She turned to Izzy. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“It’s okay.”

She clenched her trembling free hand. “She… she died in a car accident when I was eleven.”

The elevator dinged and they went in awkward silence. Joe hit the button for the first floor, unable to think of what to say other than a lame, “I’m sorry.”

Izzy nodded absently like she didn’t really hear him. “Afterwards I was upset, I was devastated, but I remember my dad being a complete wreck when it happened. He disappeared the first time for two months.”

Joe frowned. “He just left you by yourself?”

“No, there was a lady taking care of me. I called her Aunty Em but she wasn’t really my aunt. I don’t know who she was. My dad was an orphan and my mom’s parents disowned her for practicing magic, so I don’t know them.”

Anna winced. “Harsh.”

“Who was aunty Em?” Joe asked.

“I don’t know. A friend of his, I guess, but I haven’t seen her before or since. And when I ask him, he dodges the subject.”

Anna held up a hand. “Wait, you said that was the first time he disappeared? It happened again after that?”

Izzy tensed like the question caught her off guard. She spun her earrings around and stared at the ground as if searching for something to say.

“…no,” she said slowly, then with forced assurance, “no, he hasn’t done it since.”

There was something she was hiding, but before either Joe or Anna could answer, the elevator dinged and opened. Izzy was the first one out.

Joe glanced at Anna and caught the look on her face. She noticed something was off, too, but wasn’t saying anything.

The two of them followed her out of the elevator and took in their surroundings.

Joe didn’t know where they warped to, but he wasn’t expecting to be looking at a huge glass wall at the end of a large room that overlooked parks and vaguely recognizable buildings. A spiral staircase in the center of the building led up to a third story floor. To the furthest left corner of the room was a gift shop, but everywhere else was art.

An abundance of paintings and sculptures of all various sizes, shapes, and colors surrounded them in every direction. It was almost overwhelming. Small clusters of people—a group of elderly people being led by a tour guide, a horde of middle schoolers in familiar maroon and gold uniforms gathered around the entrance, a few couples both with and without small children—gathered on every level to appreciate the art on display.

“Huh,” was Joe’s reaction. “We’re at some art museum. At least we’re in a place where no one will want to kill us.”

Izzy grinned and bounced around like a kid in the candy store. “I know this place! My parents took me here for my eleventh birthday. They had this beautiful sculpture made out of all these semiprecious stones and I—”

“Oh no…” Anna whined and pulled them by the arm under the staircase.

“What’s wrong?” Joe asked.

“It’s me.”

Joe was half tempted to say something slick, but the desire was squashed by the worried look on Anna’s face. She peeked behind the staircase at whatever they were hiding from and swore.

Joe and Izzy gave each other a confused glance and looked to see what she was so nervous about.

Izzy gasped. “Is that—”

“It’s you!” Joe whipped his head back at Anna.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

Among the crowd of middle schoolers, there was Anna, looking over the crowd of her peers as if searching for someone.

Anna moaned. “Why this day?”

“What’s wrong with this day?” Joe asked. “Did something happen?”

Her face went red. Anna crossed her arms and glowered at him, seemingly for no reason. “Let’s just not cross my path, okay?”

Joe wanted to ask her what her problem was, but he didn’t want to add that on top of their previous argument. He sighed. “Alright. It’s better if we don’t risk running into you.”

Her shoulders slouched, and she seemed to relax. “Right. So what’s the plan?”

“We should split up. We’ll find The Book a lot faster that way.”

Anna snorted. “Split up? It’s not Scooby Doo. I say we stick together.”

Joe clenched his jaw. “Why ask me the plan if you’re gonna come up with your own plan?”

“Why come up with a lame plan?”

Izzy stepped between the two of them, raising her hand not holding the ice cream bar up in surrender. “Why don’t we try it both ways?”

The two of them stopped glaring at each other and looked at her. She gulped and smiled weakly.

“We can start looking for The Book split up, then if we can’t find anything in twenty minutes, we’ll look together? Or, um…”

This was obviously a worse plan, and Joe could tell she knew that, too, just by looking at her, but Anna huffed and said, “Fine,” before heading towards the gift shop and keeping her face away from her past self.

And with that, the three of them went their separate ways in search for The Book.

[theroseandcrown]

The Rose & Crown: Chapter Four

Rating: M Chapters: 4/24  Summary: Clara struggles to return to her life as a teacher at the Coal Hill School. She hasn't heard from the Doctor nor knows where he is. She attempts to keep her mind on her work when a strange sound is heard coming from outside the classroom door.

Read this story on another platform: Archive of Our Own Fan Fiction WattPad

Six weeks had passed since the doors to the TARDIS closed and left her in her flat to resume her life as if nothing happened. No calls, no hidden messages, no whirring of the time machine manifesting in her living room nor anywhere else for that matter. Not a single clue to the Doctor’s whereabouts in all that time. Was he alive? Dead? Trapped on some planet billions of light-years from her? As often as she tried to hide the dreaded thoughts that found their way into her mind, there was no one else she could turn to. No one who would understand.

How am I doing? Well, for one, my time-travelling space alien not-boyfriend is probably being tortured somewhere or trying to save an entire species from extinction and he’s abandoned me here while he’s off gallivanting the universe without me! But thanks for asking!

The ridiculous nature of that one-sided conversation was enough to bring even the smallest amount of humour into her clouded thoughts. As difficult as it had been to resume her life ‘as normal’, she could not dissuade the constant reminder that he hadn’t come back. It was a feeling she just couldn’t shake. Such as when an empty cup once containing your favourite beverage had been drained of its final drop and sat next to you at the table for some time. Every so often you pick it up to take a sip, only then to experience the saddened reminder that it is vacant of any liquid. That is what it felt like to be without the Doctor while trying to pretend his very existence, or lack thereof had not altered her life in any way. As she stood in front of her students lecturing on the importance of literature throughout human history, she couldn’t help but think to herself that as many adventures as she had been on, as many stars and planets and species she had seen passed even the ending of the Earth itself, time had barely passed for anyone else. Yesterday’s homework, which felt as if it had been assigned years before, was simply today’s paperwork to be marked. It remained a constant struggle to keep her own living timeline in order, let alone the many she encountered throughout her travels with the Doctor.

Though her physical body remained a teacher at the Coal Hill School, her mind wandered as her students read experts from their current works. Even her love life, if she could call it that, was suffering as Mr Pink continued to comment on her absent-mindedness as of late. Fooling him into believing there was nothing the matter proved more difficult than trying to understand all that was and is the Doctor. “That was great, Samuel. Thank you. Would anyone else like to read their work?” Several of the students raised their hands. “Let’s see. Okay, Marie. If you don’t mind.” The girl stood and began to address the class with her most recent writing. Clara took a seat at her desk to jot down a few notations while the girl read aloud. Trying to keep the thoughts of her best friend out of her head, she couldn’t help but peer down at her phone for which felt like the hundred-thousandth time since she last saw him. No missed calls, no messages, just nothing. The urge to call him always lingered in her mind but she resisted as she knew that when he was ready, she would know. Feeling the sadness overwhelming her, she tried to concentrate on her work. Suddenly, there was a faint tapping noise coming from the viewing window of the classroom door. At first, she thought it was nothing. Just her mind playing tricks on her as none of the other students lifted their heads in acknowledgement of the sound. Then she heard it again. A distinct tapping coming from the hall. And then she saw him, as sure as there are stars in the sky, standing on the other side of the window waving at her. The Time Lord. Seriously? Here? Now?!  She could barely even contain her anger as she silently mouthed the words “go away” through gritted teeth. She raised a hand signalling to him that she was in class doing her job and there were students to teach. “Miss Oswald, shall I go on?” the girl asked, taking notice of her teacher’s distracted gaze. “Yes! Sorry, Marie. Please continue,” she replied, trying her hardest to ignore the old man’s impatient pacing back and forth from behind the closed door. The anger was building inside of her as she thought about how much worse his timing could possibly be. “Miss?” another student began. “Yes, James. What is it?” “I think the caretaker is trying to get your attention.” Clara sighed then looked towards the door where the Doctor was waving his hands signalling for her to come out. “Well, I suppose I’ll go see what he wants then. Excuse me a minute, be right back. Oh, and uh, just keep reading, Marie.” She approached the door, eyes squinted and fuming towards the Doctor. She opened the door and exaggeratedly greeted the man dressed in a caretaker’s uniform. “Ah yes, Mr Smith! How may I help you?” She waited until the door was closed then lowered her voice to return to her natural state. “What are you doing here! Where the hell have you been?! You know what, I don’t even want to know. I can’t even believe you!” “Clara, I need you to come with me. Right now.” His hurriedness did little to derail her anger. “Oh hello, Clara!” she imitated his voice in her best Scottish accent. “Sorry I’ve been gone for six weeks without ringing and dumped you off here without any explanation to where I’ve been in all that time. What d’you say we go out for some chips and pretend like this whole thing never happened, eh?” “How can you possibly think of food at a time like this?! Wait, did you say six weeks?” “Yes, idiot! Six weeks! For all I knew, you could have been dead! Do you even understand how cross I am with you?!” “Never mind that. Listen, Clara. I think I’ve stumbled onto a clue to our memory loss. But you need to come with me immediately!” “Doctor, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m in the middle of class.” “And? Just let the little pudding-brains take over! Look, that one there,” he pointed to Marie who was continuing to read to the class. “She looks like she could handle things in your stead.” “Unlike you, Doctor, I’m not abandoning my students whom I care about to go on some worm chasing escapade with you!” she fumed, trying not to raise her voice any louder than she should. “Fine!” he conceded. “Meet me after class in the caretaker’s building. This is a matter of utmost importance!”

Clara approached the caretaker’s building being careful not to attract any attention to herself. She casually monitored her surroundings and when she felt there were no prying eyes, she opened the door. Inside was all that could be expected of a caretaker’s managings. Spare linens, a few brooms strewn about, and in the corner appearing as though she had always belonged there was the TARDIS. She placed a hand upon her closed doors letting her know of her presence and thought to herself how much she missed the old girl. With a heavy sigh, she opened the door and stepped inside to prepare herself for what was to happen next.

“Ah, Clara! Good, you’re here!” came the Doctor’s voice, his face half-hidden from behind the time rotor. He hurried over to her, took her by the arm, and gently dragged her to the middle of the room. “Tell me, what’s the last thing you remember?” “Well, let’s see,” she started, still unbelievably cross with him. “First you showed up to my school, interrupted my class, called my students pudding brains-” “Yes yes, before that!” he interrupted. “Before the memory worms.” “I dunno. I remember being at home, getting ready for my date, then you showed up in my living room…” She strained to recall what really happened that night. “Anything else?” he tested her, trying to determine how far back this all started. “And then… then the TARDIS phone rang.” “Precisely! The phone rang! Don’t you see, Clara? That’s where this all began! The moment I picked up the phone, the start of an entire night we don’t even remember occurred!” “I don’t understand.” She tried to let go of her frustrations with him over the past six weeks to become what he needed from her the most. To be his companion. “The phone deleted our memories?” “I’m afraid it goes much deeper than that,” he attempted to explain. “The phone call was just a fixed point in time. It’s everything after that which has been altered. If I hadn’t answered the phone, you would have gone off to your date as if nothing had happened. But something did happen, Clara.” She stood silently staring at the man in front of her trying to decide if she was supposed to speak next. Yet she couldn’t think of a single thing to add to his wild detachment from the reality in which she was living. He sighed heavily. He knew he had hurt her. He had asked her to wait and wait she had without ever knowing if he would be coming back for her. One of the most difficult parts of being the Doctor was not being able to understand the fragility of human emotions. “Clara, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you here. That I was not there for you.” He struggled to find the words to express exactly what he was feeling at that moment. For him, time could pass in the blink of an eye. But for everyone else, for Clara, well, without him she was living her life on the slow path as if each day were an eternity. “I’ve spent the last six weeks trying to retrace our steps hoping they’d lead me to an answer,” he continued. “The data to the TARDIS was deleted either by force or with purpose. There’s no record of us leaving your flat. I searched everywhere for even the smallest trail of breadcrumbs that would explain what happened that night.” He studied her face hoping for any amount of reassurance that somewhere inside that stubbornness of hers she could find it in her heart to forgive him. “I was at a loss. Until I found this.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small rectangular sheet of paper to hand to her. “I found it inside the breast pocket of my tuxedo. I have no memory of how it got there.” Clara reluctantly read the inscription on the face of the paper aloud. “You’re invited. We welcome you to join us during the Prima Nova Biannual Charity Auction Ball.” She reread the card a few more times in her head, the frown on her face deepening each time she read it. “That’s it? That’s all there is? Just an invitation to a party?” “Not just any party, it’s the party. The one we attended six weeks ago, the one we can’t remember.” “So, what do we do? Go back in time and attend the event to see what happened to us?” “Unfortunately, no. We can’t risk running into our past selves. It could create a rift in the fabric of time.” “Alright, so now what?” She tried to keep up with the fast-paced thoughts of her best friend. “The answer is right there in front of you! It says ‘biannual’, as in more than one!” The Doctor was on the move creating laps around the console, pulling levers and pressing buttons. “Okay, so…” She started to understand what was going through that daft mind of his. “So... we simply go forward in time and attend the next event. Surely whomever originally gave me this invitation will be there. It’s the best option we have to figure out who might have been involved in all of this.” “We’re going now?!” She realized what a silly question that was almost immediately after asking it. Of course he meant now. “Well, not like this we’re not,” he noted, gesturing to their appearance.

[evenstevensranked]

#22: Season 3, Episode 17 - “Snow Job”

In order to get out of an Algebra midterm, Louis fakes a snow day outside of Principal Wexler's house and gets himself suspended from school. Meanwhile, Ren has one week to master Pole Vaulting after accidentally injuring LJH’s best athlete. Phyllis Diller guest stars!

This one opens with the gang in Mr. Lopez’s algebra class. We’ve never seen or heard of Mr. Lopez before, but he seems pretty cool imo. Like one of those teachers who genuinely cares about his students. I really like his character. This first scene is a montage of Twitty, Tawny and Louis up at the board. Twitty and Tawny are solving their equations at the speed of light, whereas Louis is constantly getting tripped up. I’m already relating to Louis so bad. When it’s time for them to share their answers, Twitty and Tawny seem like Einstein’s spawn in comparison to Louis, who drew a map of Utah:

Louis attempts to explain how he worked out the equation, but obviously.. he has no idea. He glances at the clock and sees there’s only, like.. 30 seconds until the bell rings. So he stalls in the most glorious way possible: “I got 2x + 7x to the 5th times Y........ to which I say.... why not? Why do fools fall in love? These are all very big questions.” I love this quote so much. Of course, the bell rings and he successfully dodges answering. 

Mr. Lopez knows that Louis is struggling and really wants him to ask for help on his own. He subtly extends that invitation by asking if anyone has any questions because “the only stupid questions are the ones you ask yourself on the bus ride home” -- Which is incredibly true and another quote I really like. Louis seems as if he’s genuinely gonna ask a question but then says “...If a chicken had lips, could it whistle? I’ll ask myself on the bus ride home.” -- It’s funny, but also really really upsetting. Mr. Lopez is super disappointed and so am I. There’s also this girl in the classroom who really hates Louis or something. She dramatically shakes her head all annoyed and complains to the kid behind her whenever Louis says anything. It’s actually a little distracting, lol. Keep an eye out for her next time you watch this episode.

The disappointment is palpable. 

Then it cuts to the subplot where Ren is interviewing some of LJH’s athletes for the Wombat Report. Including some girl Olga who’s “the best 9th grade pole vaulter in Sacramento” -- Which confirms that Lawrence Jr. High goes up to 9th grade!! I think that’s the only time in the entire series they actually say the words “ninth grade”! Ren also calls the upcoming competition they’re preparing for “the big meet.” I’m sure Louis would object to this. 

Ren interviews the fantastic Artie Ryan, who makes an appearance as a shot putter lol. He’s apathetic and deadpan as usual (”Buzz off, I’m training.”) which is great. Ren gets the bright idea to try heaving the ball herself... and breaks Olga’s foot. Ouch. Phyllis Diller makes her brilliant cameo as Coach Corns here! Something that always annoyed me is that IMDb lists the character’s last name as “Korns” but the inscription on her jacket is “Corns” lol. I’m assuming the jacket is the legit spelling. I also saw on Twitter a while ago that Phyllis’ cameo happened because Jim Wise was absent and working at MADTV at the time. Anyway, Ren decides to fill in for Olga at the competition even though she has no idea how to pole vault. Coach Corns is skeptical but says “if you’re anything like your brother Donnie, maybe you can learn by Friday!” Donnie is seriously the be-all end-all in the Even Stevens-verse. 

We get few scattered scenes throughout the episode of Ren practicing pole vaulting over and over again, failing at making it over the bar every time. Including one where “Coach Corns” demonstrates how it’s done, which is hilarious and obviously a stunt double of course. 

Much like last week’s episode, they put zero effort into trying to avoid showing the face of the stunt double lol. It honestly makes it funnier. 

After countless failed attempts, Artie walks over and says “You know that you’re supposed to go over the bar, right?” And Ren bites back sarcastically “Really, Artie?! Thanks for that helpful hint.” I can’t help but laugh every time. Ren insists she’ll be ready for competition and Artie mumbles to himself “Yeah, and I’ll be the king of Norway.” It’s so good. 

Louis’ plot continues with this scene, which I love:

It’s not included in this set, but in between the second and third photos Twitty says “And like, she was not a very good babysitter...” LOL. Yeah, I doubt she’d have stellar reviews on Care.com today. 

Twitty and Tawny go on to talk about how Mr. Lopez’s class is so fun and he makes learning algebra so easy and they’re totally gonna ace the midterm!! YAY! ....You just know Louis is feeling like an outsider right about now. Tawny tries to set up a study session, but Louis bails to work incredibly hard on a way to not take the test. We’ve been over this before. If Louis spent a fraction of the amount of time and effort he spends on avoiding schoolwork, he would be an honors student. It’s ridiculous because half of the inventions he comes up with must involve some serious math skills! He’s putting in the work where it doesn’t count lol. And he really goes to extremes this time. He gets Beans to help him with this super elaborate prank to fake a snow day... in Sacramento California... outside of Principal Wexler’s house. He even did that thing where you can override a vacant radio station and recited a whole fake news story on the historic “blizzard.” The craziest part about this, is that he was 99% successful! Wexler totally bought that the storm was legit. And I don’t blame him:

Imagine not wanting to take a midterm that bad. 

There’s some great miscommunication here when Wexler calls LJH to cancel school. The secretary is all “may I ask why?” lol. Seriously. Gotta love miscommunication. Louis almost sorta gets away with everything, until Ren jogs by the house and starts yelling at him and Wexler hears it through the radio. I never used to understand why Ren was out jogging though? It always felt like a biiiit of a forced plot device to me. I used to think “She’d already be at school or at home getting ready!” ...but today, I just realized -- she’s preparing for pole vaulting. Oh my god. I’m such an idiot. It’s funny because I thought I was catching onto some bad writing.. but no. Even Stevens is actually that good. 

This “snow scam” leads to Principal Wexler suspending Louis from school. I love how it’s only a one week suspension, yet Wexler acts like Louis is leaving forever and has his locker cleaned out as if it’s a gateway to The Upside Down: 

Eileen takes off work to homeschool Louis for the week, which is really nice to see. We get a montage of them covering just about every subject and Louis is breezing through the day with flying colors! They even did Theater, where Louis played both Romeo and Juliet. The one-man show costume is a sight to behold:

“It’s very constraining and I’d like to change now.”

Everything’s going well until Eileen drops the bomb “Okay! We’ve covered everything but Algebra!” and the dramatic, dark orchestra kicks in. Louis tries to get out it, but Eileen’s not letting him off the hook. She writes out an equation on the board and leaves him alone for awhile to complete it. When she returns, he’s asleep:

I RELATE TO THIS MORE THAN YOU’LL EVER KNOW. Louis is literally falling asleep during homework to avoid doing it. I did this so many times throughout my academic career and I doubt I’m the only one. It was always with math, too! It was so overwhelming for my little brain... I’d just drift off to sleep and think “Well, if I fall asleep... that’s an excuse for not finishing it!” lol. And I bet you anything that was Louis’ thought process as well. Eileen gives Louis an ultimatum (finish his homework or be grounded for the weekend) to motivate him to finish the equation, so he attempts to do it and pretty much pulls an answer out of his butt. I did this all the time. You sort of convince yourself that you got it right, even though deep down you know it’s totally wrong. “You got it, baby!!” Louis compliments himself. And right about then, Ren enters the room and verbalizes what Louis most likely already knows: “You got it totally wrong, Louis.” This leads to a really nice brother/sister moment. 

Ren wants to know why he put so much effort into skipping one day of school, and he confesses that it’s because he doesn’t understand Algebra. “I’ll try to understand it, but I can’t. I’m the only kid in the class who doesn’t know what’s going on.” I’ve said those exact sentences a million times growing up. This whole scene is honestly so heart-wrenching imo. It further develops Louis’ character and adds to his endearingness. (Don’t even know if that’s a word, but I’m using it.) Ren can’t understand why he doesn’t just go to Mr. Lopez for help. “What’s the worst that could happen?” she asks, and Louis imagines a life of ridicule: 

This is too real. You really do feel like you’ll be a total idiot if you ask for help during class. Even though the chances of your teacher and principal publicly mocking you are zero... you still feel like everyone will be secretly judging you. 

I just can’t stress enough how much I relate to Louis here. His attitude towards struggling with academics is exactly how I felt. Like, no matter how hard you try... You're still the dumbest kid in class. He snaps out of his daydream and tells her “No, I can’t do it. People are gonna think I’m stupid.” And Ren says “Stupid? You may do some really stupid things sometimes but that doesn’t mean that YOU are stupid.” THIS IS SO FREAKING NICE I WANNA CRY LOL. She then empathizes with him by sharing her struggle with pole vaulting. It’s sweet. 

When Louis returns to school, he’s determined to pay extra attention in Algebra class and really focus. But the second Mr. Lopez starts explaining, all Louis can hear is “blah, blah, blah... blah, blah..... blah, blah, blah.................. blah.” It’s hilarious because it’s TRUE. Mr. Lopez opens up the floor for any questions, and I swear to god. I get so emotional every time here. Louis raises his hand and takes a few seconds to muster up the confidence to say “I don’t understand.” .....*sheds a single tear.* Mr. Lopez says to catch up with him after school and Louis is so proud of himself for asking. Ahhhhhh!

Look at dat content face. Awww. Shia’s so great. 

After school, Mr. Lopez explains that there’s usually a gap in the knowledge somewhere when it comes to struggling with Math. This is very accurate. I’ve learned that missing just one little building block of information (with anything in life) can mess you up entirely. So we get a montage of them working for what seems like hours on the basics (1 + 1 = 2) all the way through to Algebra and Louis does soooo well. It’s one of the sweetest, most self-reflecting moments in the series. Louis takes a look at all of the equations he successfully completed and mutters “Good job, Buddy” to himself and I just wanna weep. On top of that.. Mr. Lopez is super nice, calling Louis a genius and such. I just love it. It’s kinda funny how they tried to make the scene look all trippy like the equations were floating all around him just by writing on glass with a marker though, haha: 

I also have to gif this because it reminds me of the confused math lady meme:

Seriously, can we make “Shia LaBeouf doing Algebra” a thing? Even Stevens is ripe with memes that never see the light of day. 

Meanwhile, Ren is at the pole vaulting competition and, well... failing miserably. Just then Louis, Eileen and Steve show up and start running next to her during her very last try. Louis is gushing about being able to do Algebra and Eileen and Steve are just cheering her on haha. Louis shouts the advice “You might wanna put the stick thingy in the ground, Ren!” and then she miraculously makes it over the bar. I NEVER UNDERSTOOD THIS??? Um, where else could she have been putting it this whole time? And it’s not like that alone would help her get over the bar. 

Clearly, the pole is meant to go in the metal space (”ground”)! You’re telling me she’s been practicing for a week and never put it there?!?! Come on. 

Anyway, everyone celebrates and it’s a happy moment. Coach Corns also snatches her own wig and Louis puts it on: 

Even Stevens was seriously ahead of the meme trend. Wigs were flyin’ on Disney Channel in 2002. 

The episode ends with one of the greatest “last minute” bits ever. Ren made it over the bar... So, Artie Ryan becomes the king of Norway:

“I AM THE KING!” -- This show’s humor is unparalleled. 

And that’s it! This is just an awesome episode. Obviously, I love this Louis plot. It’s seriously so great and one of the most relatable topics ever. (Well, for me at least.) Like I said, I feel like this episode is a really great one for Louis Stevens and his character development. Ren’s plot is pretty similar actually. Both plots work together in a “conceive it, achieve it” sort of way. I just really love it. Mr. Lopez is cool. Phyllis Diller is great. Artie Ryan is the best. It’s just good all around ok. This is definitely one of my personal favorites, but I objectively feel like there are some stronger episodes. So, #22 is where it sits. 

Thanks for reading!

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