xyzcekaden

[xyzcekaden]

in the gknd reboot, this is the bottle episode

Since the show codename kids next door is canonically set around the 2000’s…do y’all think that their world was affected during the 2008 financial crisis?

Can you imagine being a villain called Jerome the Gnome. Your villain origin story comes to be when your wife Linda has once again nagged you about your Gnome landscaping business that’s on the brink of bankruptcy and your bratty kid walks up to you, while your up in arms with bills and complaint letters from parents talking about how your beautiful lawn gnomes are coming to life and forcing their kid to do yard work, and asks for a pillow pet rainbow monkey. It’s a pillow and it’s a pet rainbow monkey, your kid cries. You lose it and you yell won’t even have a house for a goddamn pillow pet, Candace! So now your kid is and your wife is bemoaning about how her old British college buddy Lawrence would NEVER do that to her. But you’ll show them…you’ll show them all once you unleash your secret project…Gnome Dome! A dome that encloses front yards and forces those snot nose brats to do most of the brunt yard work so you don’t have to hire anyone anymore and parents would have no choice to buy your gnomes lest their kid get wood chipped by seven gnomes stacked on top of each other.

Your first target? A house with a big ass treehouse. So you go in there and you’re just shocked with what you see…You’ve been living in a fixer upper of a bungalow at risk of repossession from the bank and these kids are living in a whole ass five bedroom and a den? TAX FREE?! A screaming bald kid resembling an IRS agent jumps you with a wood plank in a gun followed by his cool buddy speaking in third person. When you catch your breath you ask “Hey…what’s the rent in this place?” and a kid with a helicopter helmet says “We accept credit and crash and all your bones in a …CAST!” As he proceeds to spin you around before throwing a pie in your face “Ohhh I got another one! Like the pie in your face…we’re living…rent-free!”. Surely your own joke of a life can’t be as bad as the jokes you’re hearing, right? WRONG! You get shot with a Teddy bear bullet by a demon in a green sweater. “My Financially Savvy Rainbow Monnkey says that job security is important and always check on that credit score.” Your gnomes are falling apart around you just like how your marriage with Linda is going to be after she finds out you dipped your toes into the emergency fund for this project. As you rue the day you majored in ceramics and dabbled in shady day trading, some Australian kid with a fuckass bowl cut pulls THIS out

[xyzcekaden]

What if the decommissioning process from Kids Next Door isn't just a memory eraser but also a form of lobotomy?

Every adult that we know was decommissioned acts dimwitted. They even seem ignorant to the clear danger around them. Like how Numbuh One's dad only ran from the senior citizombies because he thought it was a game of hide and seek. But as soon as he was recommissioned he understood the situation and was even able to act upon it.

Or how Numbuh 4's parents seem unaware of the fact that they were kidnapped by a dodgeball wizard who fights their sons.

The villains even start to get noticeably frustrated dealing with them.

But what about the villains? As far as we know none of them were KND opporatives. With the only exception being Chad who was revealed to be a spy near the end of the series and Cree who escaped before being decommissioned.

We know that Father wasn't an opporative when he was a kid so he never needed to be decommissioned. So while he doesn't have any knowledge of the KNDs secrets he is still capable enough to be a threat to them.

Most likely the decommissioning process is similar to that of a lobotomy to ensure that there would be less villainous adults to fight. Not only taking away their memories to make sure that the KNDs secrets never get revealed but also making them to dumb to even question the battles going on around them. Let alone even having the desire to go after kids.

But that's not all. Father was so close to helping his brother stand up against grandfather when they were kids. But he was too scared to do anything. This still shows that he at one point cared about kids and helping them.

What if one day he went to visit his brother and saw him become this oblivious man who was ignorant to the world? He knew he was a part of the KND but when his brother tells him that he doesn't know what he was talking about he began to realize what happened. He saw the KND essentially chew him up, spit him out and damage him beyond repair. Which was the fate of most members unless they were specifically chosen to remain as opporatives in secret.

This could've pushed him to a boiling point. Becoming vengeful and angry at the KND. Maybe that's why he kidnapped Sector Z and delightfulized them. He was trying to save them with his own decommissioning device that would only wipe memories and make it so that they wouldn't want to return to the KND. But the machine overloaded and he managed to make something much worse. Horrified by what he had done he went mad and just wanted the KND gone. Even if it means destroying them. But he still used the delightful children to help accomplish his goal. Eventually his morals left him and he became the worst villain of the series.

[xyzcekaden]

I LOVE ALL THESE COMMENTS THANK YOU!!! (and thank you paniniwrap's friend!)

really glad the types for sector v made sense to you ❤️💙💚����💜

(walking rainbow indeed)

dcfdtl were always gonna be normal type b.c being normie is their whole shtick lol i considered adding a secondary dark type too but since theyre delightfulised and not evil by nature, i didn't want that to be an inherent part of their identity as a pokemon, so i settled for making half their moveset dark type (thief and taunt)

the other half of the moveset are references to the huge lasers they keep using to attack the knd lol

WALLY'S BUIZEL AND TAUROS ARE SO IMPORTANT TO ME TBH my third eye was open when i realised who else he'd want on his team except fighting types xD

mwahahaha yes nigel and wally each having a pokemon related to their love interests was entirely intentional >:) i am shipper first and foremost

i was thinking of giving nigel the volbeat actually but remembered he doesn't like bugs, and i bet lizzie would be so annoyed that they dont have couples pokemon the way others do, so he went out of his way to get a bulbasaur just to assuage her haha ""your carnivine and my bulbasaur can be friends!""

im gonna guess all the comments abt how the pokemon would fare in battle are from your friend? haha i gotta be honest i assigned everything from a personality/lifestyle perspective like 'if pokemon were real and these kids could have them, then which ones would they be drawn to, and which ones would be helpful to them?' b.c pokemon are companions 🥺

to that end, 2's and 3's were the easiest to put together b.c they have actual hobbies. wtf does numbuh 1 do in his spare time that a pokemon can help him with??? all he does is come up with conspiracy theories and ignore his girlfriend; you don't need pokemon for either of those 🙄🤚

if i had infinite time on my hands, i'd try to play through a game with any of these teams and see how far i can get in competitive play... alas i do not LOL but the question intrigues me nevertheless

thanks again im so glad my brainrot is being well-received 🤗

hello i turned codename: kids next door characters into pokemon; and then i also gave them their own pokemon teams.

i spent 9.5 consecutive hours creating this powerpoint b.c i needed to show @paniniwrap my Vision lol

[xyzcekaden]

hello i turned codename: kids next door characters into pokemon; and then i also gave them their own pokemon teams.

i spent 9.5 consecutive hours creating this powerpoint b.c i needed to show @paniniwrap my Vision lol

[xyzcekaden]

Belated birthday present for @sector-v <3

[xyzcekaden]

[xyzcekaden]

Day 6: Alternate Universe--KND

Numbuh 2/Numbuh 5 is such a fun pairing and I feel like their dynamic is would be similar to Chokarui!

[xyzcekaden]

S4 Ep 7 POOL

I really like Ben Diskin’s voice acting as Legin and Nigel in the major scenes of this ep. The differences between how their personalities come across in his voice acting are really subtle and I like it. Same for Eizzil too.

Things to remember from this ep:

The Beetles now have a pool.

Mr. Beetles took on  a second job to pay off a pool neither of his sons can take real advantage of since Wally can’t swim and Joey is a baby.

Sector V and Lizzie were invited to break in the pool.

Sector V is giving off weird negatronic readings.

Dive into a pool to save your  alien GF. 

Now how does this work? Is Eizzil also an alien one time DNKG agent disguised as a kid??? Are the GKND of the DNK world attempting to save non kids from kid oppression??

Eizzil and Legin are exes. I wonder if they’re dating again after Op. GIRLFRIEND?? It’s possible their work as DNK got in the way of their relationship, since the DNK collapses at the end of the ep maybe they’ll get another chance?

The DNK have 4x2 tech intended for lobotomys.

Lizzie made a rainbow monkey care and share sigh noise when Nigel hugged her. Perfect.

With Negatve Numbuh 4 as the soopreme of the DNK does that mean that Numbuh 4 will never ever be soopreme of the KND?

The LTDfCD’s Daddy actually cares about them,which once again confirms Father doesn’t care about the DC at all.

Also were they rebellionized by Legin’s Dad???

Liagiba(-5) wears her glasses all of the time. More proof to my reading glasses headcanon for 5!

I love negative numbuh 86 and want her to achieve her dreams.

Negative Numbuh 2′s jokes are well liked by all, which also means that Negative Numbuh 5 secretly hates his jokes and is only pretending to like them to look cool.

The Beetles pool is now full of sand for Wally to be buried in.

[xyzcekaden]

🕶 operation: m.e.e.t.c.u.t.e. 👓

by airauralintensity (aka me, xyzcekaden!)

memorable encounter explored through changed universes, totally excellent

fandom: codename: kids next door characters: lizzie devine, nigel uno ship: nizie genres: comedy, romance, angst, fluff, pre-canon, first meeting, transfer student!lizzie, hero complex!nigel, nigel pov themes: minor character pov, lizzie asks first, nizie aren't in this that much but i make up for it, hopefully, rewrite of ch 2 word count: 2.8k+ chapter: 4/4

read it below, on ffnet, or on ao3!

~~~

A/N (4.11.2025): Last chapter! Let me know which of these two versions you like best. This one was actually written first, but I'm publishing it last since the Nizie focus is a byproduct.

~~~

when you've heard those lies

He's just happy he could be there.

~~~

Sarah and Andy hold hands and talk while they wait for the lunch line to move, and Marybeth seethes at the sight from where she stands in line behind them.

When the rumours that Andy liked Sarah came out, she was devastated. She's had a crush on him since the third grade when he got a book in the library that she couldn't reach down for her. He's so tall and kind, and she despaired over the idea that she lost him before she even got a chance with him. Then the Galla-Gab reported President McGarfield couldn't confirm those rumours, and hope sprang anew in her chest. She had resolved to make her move the next time she saw him, but it turned out she wasn't the only one who read the news. Sarah, who shared a period with Andy right before Marybeth did and harboured her own crush on the boy, told him how she felt and asked for her own confirmation via passed notes. They walked out of the class girlfriend-and-boyfriend, trampling all over Marybeth's heart in the process.

That was a month ago, and she is firmly in the anger stage of grief. Why does Sarah get the cute, nice boy and Marybeth doesn't even get the time of day? Marybeth is adorable! She's smart and a go-getter and could have had Andy Belmont if only dumb, snooty Sarah Olin didn't get in her way.

As the lunch line moves, her thoughts continue like this until she can't take it anymore. When her lunch tray is in hand, she purposefully looks for a seat in the lunchroom that won't let her see the couple enjoying their lunch break together. It hurts too much. Said seat ends up being at the table right next to theirs, but at least her back is to them.

She's just starting in on her dessert—orange Jell-O, her favourite—to make her feel better when someone taps on her shoulder.

"A-Andy?"

"Hey, Marybeth," he greets with a friendly grin, and wow she loves how much she has to tilt her head to look at him. "Could you watch our stuff for a sec?" He points over his shoulder to where Sarah is seated with their bags and lunch trays at the table behind her.

Her first instinct is to decline—she doesn't want to do anything that makes Sarah Olin's life easier, even ""for a sec""—but then a wicked idea comes to mind.

"Absolutely," she says, her smile revealing a few too many teeth.

"You're the best! Thanks so much." He waves as he heads back to Sarah.

Marybeth watches them leave the cafeteria before springing into action. After making sure everyone around is busy with their own lunches, she opens Sarah's bookbag, dumps her dessert all over the contents inside, and zips it up neatly. She throws out the empty dessert cup and returns to her lunch feeling accomplished. Andy and Sarah return not too long afterwards; and when they wave at her, she returns the gesture with genuine joy.

She figures Sarah wouldn't notice anything wrong until her next class, but she's rewarded with disgusted shrieks after just a few moments.

"My homework!" Sarah despairs loudly. "It's ruined!"

"Ew, what is that? It looks like orange Jell-O," Andy asks.

Marybeth takes a self-satisfied bite of her lunch. Orange Jell-O does make her feel better, after all.

"Who cares what it is! How did this happen!?" Sarah wails.

She expects the tap on her shoulder a few seconds later. "Andy, Sarah!" Marybeth greets cheerily. "What's up?"

Sarah shows her ruined bookbag with teary eyes. "Look! Someone got this orange goop all over my books! Andy asked you to look over our stuff, right? Did you see who did it?!"

"What?" she enunciates dramatically. "That's terrible! I'm sorry, but I didn't see anything. I was eating lunch."

Andy runs a frustrated hand through his hair. "Right, yeah. But I did ask you to look after our stuff."

Marybeth hesitates. She doesn't feel guilty, exactly, but she can't stand the idea that she failed him. "… Now that you mention it, I did notice someone passing by here while you were gone." She hastily glances around for an easy target and finds the new girl a few tables down. "Her!"

Sarah follows her pointed finger to her new target and stalks off, but Andy stays back a moment. "Lizzie Devine? Are you sure?"

She doesn't like that he knows her name. "Yeah, why?"

"Well, she's… kind of a loner. She doesn't really have friends, but she doesn't have enemies either. I'm just surprised she would do something like this."

She frowns, peeved that he wouldn't just take her word for it. "Well, she did. I practically saw her do it."

His face hardens instantly. "Well, that's that. Come on, Marybeth."

"Wait, what?"

He takes her hand and leads her to where Lizzie and Sarah have since begun arguing with each other, and she stumbles out of her seat to follow after him. It didn't even cross her mind to refuse; he's holding her hand.

When he lets go, her disappointment is quickly distracted by an outburst from Sarah. "Stop playing dumb! I know it was you!" she yells in Lizzie's face.

"Hel-lo," Lizzie says like Sarah's the dumb one. "I barely even know you! Why would I do that?"

"Marybeth said she saw you do it," Andy interjects.

Lizzie snaps her head to take in the newcomers, and the first thing she does is give Marybeth a once-over with narrowed eyes in a way that puts her on the defensive. "You 'saw' me?" Lizzie asks, a threat thinly veiled in her tone.

Marybeth juts her chin out. She can't grow a conscience now. "Yeah, I did."

"You're a liar," Lizzie accuses easily.

"Ex-cuse me?"

Lizzie directs her next statement to Sarah and Andy. "In fact, I bet she's the one who did it."

Marybeth scoffs. "And just where does the weirdo with no friends get off blaming me for this?"

"Well, if my friends were anything like you…" Lizzie starts in a falsey saccharine tone, but she screams the end. "… I'd rather have enemies!"

Sarah looks between them with paralysed frustration before stomping her foot. "I so don't have time for your stupid catfight! If I don't get answers soon, I'll tell on both of you to the teacher!"

"Now, now. Let's not involve adults in a kids' matter," a new voice cuts in.

Marybeth smirks inwardly. If Nigel Uno is getting himself involved, she has this in the bag. Hero types like him are such a sucker for a damsel in distress. "Oh, Nigel," she swoons dramatically. "Thank goodness you came. Lizzie messed up Sarah's bookbag with orange Jell-O, and she's trying to blame it all on me!"

"Yeah because I'm pretty sure Scary-Breath over here is the one who actually did it!"

She plays her cries up even further. "And now she's name-calling me! Stop her!"

Sarah shoves her open, squishy bookbag into Nigel's chest for his inspection as she angrily explains, "Andy and I left our bags here for a little bit; and when we came back, we found out Lizzie did this to my stuff!"

The accused girl whirls on her. "Why are you so sure it's me? Just 'cause Marybeth said so?"

"Yeah. Why would she lie?" Andy defends easily.

Marybeth had another dramatic outburst on the tip of her tongue, but his comment stops her. She looks over at him as much as she dares. He believes in her!

Sarah's demand brings her attention back to the pressing issue. "Well, whoever did it owes me! What about my homework? What about my glitter gel pens?" She speaks as though addressing the group at large, but her eyes keep training on Lizzie.

Lizzie notices. "I'm not doing your stinkin' homework because I didn't do it," she growls, teeth bared and eyes blazing. "This is not my problem; and if you guys don't leave me alone, I'll give you a real reason to tattletell on me," she threatens lowly.

Marybeth takes a step back. "Nigel, do something!"

The other boy looks over the group then down at the evidence with a discerning frown. She fights to keep the satisfaction off her face. There's no way it can be tied back to her, and he has no reason to take Lizzie's side on this, not when she still looks like she's half a step away from taking her anger out on him.

When he finishes his appraisal, his eyes raise to meet hers.

Marybeth is so sure that he's about to proclaim her innocence that she thinks she misheard him, but the way everyone's eyes turn to her expectantly is how she knows she did not.

"Were you the one who did this to Sarah's bookbag?"

Lizzie figuring her out kind of made sense, but how could he tell? "No, of course n-not."

She doesn't mean to stumble over her words, but she makes the mistake of catching Andy's eyes. He's not looking at her the way she imagines in her daydreams.

"Then tell me, how did this happen?" Nigel presses. "If Lizzie did it, what did she do?"

"Well…" She makes it a point to stop looking at Andy, and she feels in control again. "She just came over, opened the bag, dumped the Jell-O in, and walked away."

"But I swear I didn't!" Lizzie interjects. "I don't even like Jell-O. I got the fruit cup for dessert!" She points at her lunch tray, where the unopened fruit cup stands up to quintuple-strength scrutiny.

Nigel continues his interrogation. "What did she do with the Jell-O cup afterwards?"

"She threw it away, obviously."

"And where is your dessert?"

She's taken aback, but only for a moment. "I didn't get one."

"Nonsense. No kid skips dessert on the lunch line."

"Well, I did!"

"But don't you really like Jell-O?" Andy speaks up for the first time in a while. "I remember your birthday party last year. Instead of cake, we each got to customise our own cups of Jell-O."

No way. "You remember that?" Marybeth couldn't help the heart in her voice even if she wanted to. Nothing else mattered but this.

He looks distinctly uncomfortable with her attention, however, and she realises her misstep immediately.

"Did you or did you not pour jelly into Sarah's bookbag?" Nigel asks again, and the attention is suddenly too much for her to bear. Three pairs of eyes look at her with various levels of antagonism, but the one pair that matters looks at her with something worse than anger.

She collapses under the weight of his disapproval. "FINE! I admit it! I was the one who ruined Sarah's bookbag!" she wails. "And why shouldn't I! She already has everything—shiny hair, pretty clothes, the cutest boyfriend—she doesn't need good grades, too!"

"HA!" Lizzie exclaims. "I knew it! I knew you were lying, you no-good, jelly-loving weirdo—hey!"

"That's enough. This is between them, now," Nigel says as he drags her away.

"But I'm not done with her yet!"

The rest of Lizzie's affronted spiel is drowned out in the buzz of the cafeteria, leaving only Marybeth and the mess she made.

Sarah regards her with cold eyes. "You can either come with me when I tell on you to Mrs. Thompson, or you can wait until later to find out you have detention." She punctuates her statement with a spin on her heel and beelines for the cafeteria door, ruined bookbag swinging from her hand beside her.

Marybeth can't do anything but look after her, knowing she was defeated but deliriously, desperately hopeful it doesn't have to end like this for her.

Then Andy says something. "That wasn't cool, but you knew that already." He waits until she meets his eyes to give her a meaningful, disappointed stare, then he jogs after his girlfriend.

Tears bead at the corner of her eyes, but there is no audience around to feel sympathy for her. She feels sorry for herself for just a moment longer before she trudges after them, sniffling to herself as she goes.

~~~

"But I'm not done with her yet!" Lizzie Devine rages against Nigel's hold as he drags her away. "She called me a liar and almost ruined my already-bad reputation, and you want me to leave her alone? No way!"

"I have a feeling that whatever Andy says to her will do more damage than your words ever will."

"Huh?"

He brings her to a lunch table with only a couple of other students and points at a free spot. "You sit here. I'll get your lunch tray for you. I don't think it's a good idea for you to go back there just yet."

He leaves before she could argue with him again. When he returns with her tray, her head is propped up with the palm of one hand; the fingers of her other hand impatiently drill against the lunch table.

"Thanks," she mutters as he sets her food down in front of her. It kind of makes him feel like a waiter, but he shakes that off quickly.

He opens his mouth to acknowledge her mood, but he finds he has nothing substantial to say. He should quit while he's ahead. "Well, enjoy your lunch," he prefaces before he departs, and the waiter feeling comes back with a vengeance.

He turns to scurry back to his original lunch seat, but—"Wait!"

When he looks back, Lizzie is biting her lip with a blush. If he hadn't just seen her capably cross tempers with two other irate classmates, he would have called the look on her face apprehensive. In general, she looks smaller to him now, more like a damsel out of distress than a warrior princess.

He raises his eyebrows at her, and she points to the chair next to her. "Sit with me."

He does. He can't even say it was against his better judgement, either; he has no idea how to judge this situation.

She plays with the food on her tray for a little bit, gathering her thoughts, then looks up to meet his eyes. "I just wanted to say… Thanks. You really helped me out there. I don't have a problem with sticking up for myself, but it was hard since I didn't have proof. If you hadn't questioned Marybeth, too, it would probably be me getting detention right now. Thank you, really."

He would typically give a proud, assuring speech at this point, something about how even the strongest kid needs a little help now and then; how it's his job to protect all kids, even from other kids; and how justice always prevails…

… but a thought he didn't have time to entertain before suddenly takes up every corner of his mind.

Her eyes are kind of pretty.

He chuckles awkwardly, not used to feeling like this. "Y-Yeah, well. I'm, um, I'm just happy I could be there."

She smiles at him, and that's pretty, too.

Lizzie starts on her lunch after that, and he thinks that's his cue. He doesn't mind an unspoken send off; he's grateful for a chance to excuse himself and recover from the weirdness in his chest.

"So, how did you know it was her?"

Nevermind.

"I mean, I knew it right away when I found out she was the one who was blaming me, but you?" she continues, her tone conversational, if inquisitive.

Nigel tilts his head side to side, wondering how to explain it. "I didn't know it was her, exactly…" he starts. "But I knew it couldn't have been you."

Her eyebrows perk up at that. "How?"

When I looked into your eyes, I could tell you're not a jerk, but he can't exactly say that. His mouth can't come up with anything else to take its place, though. His brain feels like the Jell-O that started this whole thing. "Well… You… It's that… I mean…"

She scoffs at his stammering, but there's no annoyance in it. "Alright, alright. Whatever it was, I'm glad you helped."

"Anytime," he says awkwardly, but his commitment to his duty helpfully chooses that moment to make him normal again. "I mean it. Any time you're in trouble, come find me. I'll help however I can."

Her eyes take on a certain gleam when she asks, "Is that so?"

"It is," he affirms despite the distraction she poses.

She hmms. "In that case… It would really trouble me to eat lunch all by my lonesome today. Is that something you could help with?"

"I-I…" He gulps. "Yes, of course. It would be my honour."

He winces internally at how clumsy that sounds, and he knows she noticed it too. The gleam in her eyes turns into a full on shimmer, and he can just tell.

"Your 'honour'? Oh, Nigel."

His brain turning to Jell-O will be a regular occurrence around this girl.

~~~

A/N (4.11.2025): That's all, folks! Thanks so much for indulging me as I read too deeply into The silly kinda doomed sandbox romance (as deemed by kalliopi) from our childhoods. Hopefully these didn't seem too repetitive.

[xyzcekaden]

"The hands that cradled your face and tilted it upwards to kiss your forehead are soaked in unfathomable quantities of blood"

"But they cradled me, yes?"

(Y'all don't know the grip they have on me rn, bruv. I'm serious, This quote choked me— Anyways, A little something something with these babs and the quote I stumbled upon on TT. Hope y'all are having an amazing day, Stay awesome!!💙)

[xyzcekaden]

[xyzcekaden]

🕶 operation: m.e.e.t.c.u.t.e. 👓

by airauralintensity (aka me, xyzcekaden!)

memorable encounter explored through changed universes, totally excellent

fandom: codename: kids next door characters: lizzie devine, nigel uno ship: nizie genres: comedy, romance, angst, fluff, pre-canon, first meeting, transfer student!lizzie, hero complex!nigel, nigel pov themes: sector v goes on a mission, lizzie has mood swings, nigel asks first, in that order, trolley problem, inspired by operation recess rating: K for cartoonish depictions of child discipline word count: 4.2k+ chapter: 3/4

read it below, on ffnet, or on ao3!

~~~

A/N (4.2.2025): The timeline went like this -

Dec 2: idea for chapter 1

Dec 4: idea for chapter 2 (and 4, coming soon!)

Dec 5: idea for this chapter; idea to put it all in a one-shot collection called operation: meetcute; idea of what meetcute was code for; commitment that these would be my first nizie fics

Dec 6: started writing lol

~~~

outside words mean so little

If anyone should be in Siberian Detention, it's him.

~~~

“Numbuh 2, report.”

“The intel was good, which means the news is bad,” the aviator quips. “The procurement order Principal Sauerbraten signed calls for 100 stationary bikes to be installed in the school’s gymnasium.”

“Neat! I’d much rather ride my bike than do gym!”

“Sorry to let the air out of your tires, Numbuh 3, but the situation is more dire than that.” Numbuh 1 frowns. “We now have proof of the school’s plot to replace our gym class with sessions on those stationary bikes in order to generate and store energy for sale to the highest bidder.”

“Nooo! The one good class in the whole school, and they’re trying to take it away from us!” Numbuh 4 wails.

“What do we got to do, Numbuh 1?” Numbuh 5, as always, brings them back to the point.

“We’re splitting up. Numbuhs 2, 3, and 4: you’ll go to the factory and sabotage their lines. If they can’t make the bikes, there’s nothing to install.” The named operatives’ faces harden, and they nod in acceptance of their mission.

“Numbuh 5, you’re going with them, but your directive is different. Catch.”

He tosses her what looks to be a laundry bag. She opens it to find—”Ew, ew, and double ew!” She launches the bag as far away from her as possible. On impact, old gym clothes spill out; and their smell quickly permeates mission control. Numbuh 1, having anticipated this, had already provided gas masks to the other three and now has one outstretched to her.

“If my mission is to do your rank laundry, you have another thing coming, Nigel Uno! I am not your momma,” she exclaims as soon as she secures it on her face.

“Negative, Numbuh 5.” Wearing hazmat gloves, he stuffs the clothes back into the laundry bag and seals it shut. “Your mission is to locate and laundry-bomb the office of the factory’s CEO.”

“My mission is a prank,” she summarises unimpressedly as she helps her teammates air out the room.

“Our mission is to ensure they wouldn’t pursue this deal again in the future. While you’re in the factory, I’ll be in Principal Sauerbraten’s office, faxing a letter that frames him for the nasal assault.” He holds up a piece of printer paper that reads ‘Roses are red, violets are blue. You look like a loser, and you smell like one, too. Smell ya later, Principal Sauerbraten’ in a ransom note aesthetic.

He snaps when he remembers, “You also need to get the factory CEO’s fax number for me.”

By now, mission control smells normal again. Numbuh 5 takes off her mask and levels Numbuh 1 with a smirk that preludes every compliment she ever means. “And plans like that are why you’re the leader.”

“When are we rolling out?” Numbuh 4 asks eagerly.

“Tomorrow during lunch. We don’t have time to lose.”

“Numbuh 4 and I will soup up the C.O.O.L.B.U.S. then!”

“I’m putting our ammo in something that can’t accidentally open,” Numbuh 5 says with a nasty glare at the bag.

Numbuh 3 thinks hard for a second, then brightens. “I’ll pack our lunches!”

Numbuh 1 looks on with deep satisfaction as his teammates leave for their various preparations. He has a good feeling about this mission.

~~~

Spurred by the bell that heralds in the lunch period, Sector V springs into action. The other four head for the C.O.O.L.B.U.S., parked outside the school and already loaded with their weapons. Meanwhile, Numbuh 1 leisurely strolls towards the main administrative office. He stops just around the corner and leans on a locker to wait. Not even ten minutes later, the eyepatched man strides out with lunchbag in hand.

He smirks. He has it on good authority that the principal likes to take a long lunch, so there’s plenty of time for Numbuh 5 to get him the intel he needs to pull off his part of the plan. Confident as he is, he doesn’t even bother sneaking into the admin office like he normally would; he walks straight in.

“Hiya! If you’re here for Principal Sauerbraten, he just went out to lunch. You’re welcome to wait here until he comes back, but I’d recommend trying again later. He can sometimes take a while.”

The unexpected presence of a girl with glasses and braided pigtails sitting at the secretary’s desk shakes that confidence, however. “Who are you?”

“I’m Lizzie, the work-study secretary!” she introduces with pride.

“You work here?!” Adults making kids do their jobs, in broad daylight, during recess? They’re shameless, utterly shameless!

A quick comms check reveals that his team only just made it to the factory, so he refocuses himself. He wasn’t expecting to complete a rescue mission today, but that’s not to say he isn’t prepared for one.

“Lizzie, right? Listen carefully because we don’t have time to lose. I’m Numbuh 1 of the Kids Next Door, an international organisation dedicated to protecting the privileges and liberties of kids from adult tyranny. We have a program in place to save kids just like you from involuntary, exploitative labour conditions,” he introduces in rapidfire speech. “After I get you out of here, you need to head to this location”—he writes instructions on a sticky note as he talks—”and if someone asks, tell them, ‘The double decker begged and bickered for pickled peppers.’” He takes her hand and pulls her upright, pressing the paper meaningfully into her palm. He looks her in the eyes and swears, “We’ll take care of you, I promise. You’ll never have to push a pencil or spend recess indoors ever again.”

The poor girl only furrows her brows in confusion, and his heart goes out to her. She’s been so indoctrinated that she can’t even fathom her own freedom. Adults are so cruel.

His mind has already planned their escape route: The principal’s office has a window facing the school yard. They can rappel down with his G.R.A.P.P.L.U.H., blend into the crowd of children at recess. He’ll give her directions to the safe spot once they’re at the far edge of the property. Lizzie will have plenty of a head start to escape before anyone notices she’s missing. “Come on. I hope you’re not afraid of heights.”

He makes for the principal’s door, but he’s jerked backwards and into one of the waiting area seats in one swift movement. “Huh—?”

“I have no freakin’ clue what you were going on about just now, mister, but no one goes into the principal’s office without an appointment,” Lizzie maintains with a harshness that completely contradicts her open and welcoming demeanour from before. “Your options are either sit your big butt right there or scram.”

Numbuh 1 errantly touches a hand to his hip at her slight, but he shakes the comment out of his mind and stands up to protest. “What are you doing? I can save you!”

“Save me from what, extra credit?” she volleys back with an eye roll. “I need this job, King Arthur. When I transferred in, not all of the credits from my old school came with me. I plan on graduating fourth grade on time, thank you very much; and I’m not gonna let some bald, British boy with a hero complex mess this up for me.”

There are many parts of that he’d like to address, but he starts small. “I go by Numbuh 1,” he corrects curtly.

“That’s not a real name.”

“My real name is none of your—”

The battle of tempers he was about to enter into is interrupted by beeping from his D.E.C.O.D.E.R.A.N.T. Numbuh 5 had just sent him the fax number.

He doesn’t have time for this. “Okay, Lizzie. It’s imperative that I get into that office. The freedoms of Gallagher Elementary students are at stake here, yours included.”

She arches an eyebrow at his suddenly no-nonsense disposition. “What do you mean?”

He wouldn’t typically divulge the sensitive details of a mission to a civilian like this, but instinct tells him that gaining her cooperation would be more beneficial in the long run than trying to trick his way in. “I just need to send a fax, and I’ll be gone,” he finishes. “No one will know I was here, so you wouldn’t get in trouble for aiding and abetting.”

Lizzie bites her bottom lip. “I don’t know…”

He almost screams at her for her indecision. He even thinks about using force, as overkill as it would be. If appealing to her altruism wasn’t the way, then what was? She’s willing to give up her recesses to do work, so she probably can’t be bribed…

But she gives up her recesses to do work.

Concepts of a plan germinate in his head.

And she’s a transfer student.

He doesn’t know if it’ll work. He doesn’t know if he wants it to work. 

His D.E.C.O.D.E.R.A.N.T. beeps again—Numbuh 5 is wondering whether he’s sent the fax yet—and that makes the decision for him. “Do you like ice cream?"

“As much as the next person,” she replies without questioning the change in topic.

If she just transferred in and doesn’t spend recreational time with others, she probably doesn’t have many friends to hang out with. He doesn’t want to bank on her loneliness, but he has no choice. “Wanna get some with me after school? It’ll be my treat.”

She goes back to doing work, raised eyebrows being the only indication she heard him. “You’re willing to do anything to get into that office, huh?”

It only takes a second for a tactful rebuttal to come to him. “Hanging out with an interesting girl in my spare time is hardly a chore.”

Her hands still, and her cheeks pink. He's curious about this reaction, but further investigation is interrupted when she turns away to a filing cabinet. "The door's unlocked," she mutters in staccato. "I'll meet you by the flagpole after the last bell."

Numbuh 1 lets the rush of a successful negotiation run through him for just a second before getting back to business. He throws a thank you over his shoulder as he beelines for the corporate device that emblematises the boringness of adulthood: the fax machine. He loads in the fake letter that has been in his back pocket this whole time, dials the number Numbuh 5 sent, and waits.

And waits.

Nothing happens, so he bangs on the machine, which makes even more nothing happen.

He even repeats the process to no avail. “Why isn’t this working?” he growls.

“Seems to me that sending a fax shouldn’t have been such a big part of your plan if you don’t even know how to do that,” an entertained voice says from behind.

He whirls around, but Lizzie is already walking towards him. Towards the machine, rather. She takes one glance at the control panel and smirks. She flits her eyes up to meet his; and if he weren’t so agitated, he might recognise her actions as flirtatious.

But he’s pretty agitated. “Do you know how to make this stupid thing work?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then help me!"

Her smirk goes from amused to teasing. "It would help if you put the paper on the right tray."

If he could go back, he'd have switched missions with Numbuh 5. "Now what," he grits out after jerkily moving it to where she indicates.

She hums to herself a little as she flips the page to face the right direction. "Now we—"

“—lizabeth?” an ambiguously Eastern European voice sounds from outside.

The pair of fourth graders whip their heads to the closed door of the office then back to each other, panic plastered all over their features.

“He’s not supposed to be back for another twenty minutes!” Lizzie exclaims in a whisper.

Numbuh 1 turns back to the machine and tries a new sequence of buttons to make the fax go through. It starts beeping, at least, but it doesn’t sound like good beeping.

“What are you doing? You’re gonna break it!” she admonishes as softly as she can.

“Then help me,” he repeats in the same tone.

“Elizabeth, is that you in there?”

She shoves him aside and re-runs the fax machine, and the mechanical whirring is as welcome as it is condemning. There’s no hiding that someone’s in the office now.

His mission more or less complete, Numbuh 1 runs for the window, heaves it open, and nimbly raises himself onto the sill. He’s a second away from jumping, but a fist wrapped in the hem of his shirt stops him. “Are you just gonna leave me here??” Lizzie accuses indignantly.

He doesn’t want to, but the visible turning of the door knob is forcing his hand. They don’t have time for him to set up the escape he thought of earlier. If he tries to help her, he jeopardises the mission, the whole school. He just can’t take her with him.

Neither can he stay.

He can only give her a stricken look before he leaps, backwards and just in time. The last thing he hears before the jets in his boots activate is Principal Sauerbraten’s furious voice demanding to know what Elizabeth is doing in his office.

~~~

By all accounts, the mission was a complete success: Sector V could hear the principal’s despair all the way from their classroom when he found out the next day that the deal was off; the stationary bike factory was in so much disrepair they decided to close down permanently instead of rebuild; his team moved so covertly that the adults didn’t even pin it on the Kids Next Door; and best of all, Gallagher Elementary’s gym classes would be safe for a long time.

Nigel, however, doesn’t feel anything but shame.

Lizzie had been sentenced to Siberian Detention for thirty days, effective immediately. The entire school was talking about it, not just fourth graders; nobody knew that was even a thing, and everyone wanted to know what she did that was so bad. In the absence of a proper explanation, rumours ran amok. Even his teammates participated in the gossip, and it was weird to hear her name on their tongues.

He prides himself on never leaving a kid behind, on making the right judgement calls, on preparing for contingencies; but no matter how he looks at it, he isn’t proud of how he conducted himself during that mission. If anyone should be in Siberian Detention, it’s him.

He fully expected to receive his own disciplinary action in those first few days, too, but weeks go by without one. It seems Lizzie hadn't ratted him out, and confusion overrides relief. Why didn't she? Any other kid would have.

Sector V could tell something's up with him (not that he was trying to hide it), but he couldn't bring himself to confess why. After the second week , they stopped asking.

Finally, the thirty-first day arrives; and the hallways buzz with gossip about Lizzie's return. Doing time has apparently changed her for the worse, and guilt joins the confluence of Nigel's negativity.

He can't bring himself to seek her out during recess—he doesn't even know if she still has her job—but he can't let the day pass without trying to talk to her somehow. He needs to face her and apologise. It's the first step to once again being the operative he wants to be.

He waits by the flagpole after the last bell.

His team follows him there, inviting him to the candy shop (Abby and Kuki) or offering a trip to the comic book store (Hoagie and Wally). He waves off their kindness, and they leave him alone without a fight, already used to his mood. He looks after them with a wan smile and hopes he can clear the air between them soon.

He kicks at some pebbles absently as the crowd of students leaving school thins out around him. The person he's been waiting for wasn't among them. He looks up at the sky and tells himself that if he doesn't see her in the next ten minutes, he'll go home and try again tomorrow.

That's when the front doors of the school slam open. "YOU!"

His head snaps over. "Lizzie!"

"Don't you 'Lizzie' me, mister!" she rebukes as she stomps towards him. "Do you have any idea what I've been through in the last thirty days? No. You don't. Because I was sentenced to a detention center Principal Sauerbraten specifically created to punish me! And for what? Stationary bikes aren't even a bad form of exercise—!"

"—The mission was a success!" Nigel rushes to clarify. She deserves to know her sacrifice wasn't in vain. "We completely destroyed the factory—well, my team did. Heh, actually, one of my teammates even said, 'The factory is so beat up, it’s like I stole its lunch money,'" he quotes, impersonating Numbuh 4 for humour before her impatient frown reminds him that she has never met Numbuh 4.

He clears his throat. "W-Well, basically, other schools couldn't carry out a similar plan even if they wanted to. Every kid in this region is safe," he finishes quickly, punctuating his speech with a hopeful smile.

"Aw, that's so…" For a second, Lizzie's eyes soften, and he's reminded of the way she bit her lip when he was trying to convince her to help him.

"... not the point."

His smile drops. "What?"

"I was in Siberia, you butthead!" she shrieks at him, arms waving and fingers pointing in time with her rant. "Why would I give a hoot about your stupid classmates when I was freezing my tuckus off hand-carving my own desk and chair out of ice! Every day for lunch, I was served cold food!"

"I-I can buy you lunch for thirty days?"

"It's not about the lunch!"

He knows it's not, but how else is he supposed to say—"Lizzie, I'm s—"

"—I'm not finished yet!" she snipes. "I had thirty stinkin' days to think about what I wanted to say to you, so you're gonna stand there and listen. It's the least you could do since I didn't hang your sorry butt out to dry!"

"Why didn't you?" he blurts out.

Her eye twitches. He knows he interrupted her again, but his self-preservation lost against his need to know. He's a spy, after all. "You work for Principal Sauerbraten; he would have believed you. I'm on his wanted list anyways. You had so many ways to prove your innocence, but I couldn't think of a single reason why you—"

"—Shut up."

Nigel got caught up trying to puzzle out the same problem that's been plaguing him since he learned of her detention, so the tears beading in the corner of her eyes when he refocuses on her surprise him. "Lizzie?"

She sniffles, wipes at her face in quick, embarrassed movements. "I don't want to talk to you anymore.” Her voice is thin, barely audible when a car drives down the road. "Leave me alone from now on, got it?" She turns to retreat.

"But Lizzie—"

"—Stop saying my name!"

She whirls on him, and he stumbles backwards. Not out of shock from the outburst, but from the pain on her face. She isn't just mad at him, she's hurting.

"You don't get to say my name when I don't even know yours!"

His stomach bottoms out. "What?"

"I waited for you!" she cries. Now that her anger can no longer mask her anguish, it's all she can feel. "I thought you would come get me! So I didn’t rat you out or else we’d both be stuck there. Isn't that stupid? You talked a big game about your little club that helps kids, and I was a kid who needed help. But what did you do? Nothing! It didn't even cross your mind! Even though you were all ready to whisk me away when you thought I was forced into my work-study, and you came up with a plan so quickly, and that was before—"

A hiccup cuts her off, but she doesn't continue from there. She turns from him, holding onto herself as she struggles for composure.

Just as well, because Nigel cannot process any more revelations of guilt. He messed up so bad.

With a few more moments, she collects herself. Her face is blotchy but dry, and her arms around her chest shift into a crossed position with finality. “Anyway." Her tone is clipped. "By the time I realised you weren't coming, it was too late to tell the truth. I couldn't even when I wanted to. If I didn't have a name to hope for, I didn't have a name to curse." She turns to meet his gaze, then, and her eyes are as cold as the prison she just got out of. "But it doesn't matter who you are anymore because you're nothing to me now." She flips a braid over her shoulder and walks away. "That's what I wanted to say to you, so. Goodbye."

The sight of her back breaks him out of his shame-induced stupor. "Wait!" He stops himself from saying her name, but he doesn't know how to stop her from leaving. "Don't go!"

"Stop following me."

"It’s Nigel, Nigel Uno!"

"Too late."

"I'm sorry!"

"Don't care."

He stops trying to keep up with her, paralysed with indecision as he scrambles to find any way to make this right. She's getting away...

"But I owe you ice cream!"

He almost facepalms—of all the things he could have said, why would he point out the most meaningless one—if not for the fact that she stops.

Hope flares in his chest when she turns, though he's met with an unimpressed frown over her shoulder. "Huh?"

If this is his chance, he’ll take it. He catches up with her and ignores how she takes a step back from him when he gets too close. "I messed up, I know that. I'm sorry. I let you take the fall for a mission you don't believe in; I asked for your trust and betrayed it on the same day; and I was too wrapped up in how bad I felt about it to do the right thing once I learned what happened to you. I failed you in a bunch of ways… but if there's even one thing I can do right, one promise I can keep, I want to do it. I'll leave you alone afterwards, but please? Let me treat you to ice cream first."

She looks at him like he's stupid. "I just came back from Siberia."

Right. "Uh, pizza, then?"

Her face still curls with resentment, but she bothers considering him. Her stare is so discerning, the back of his neck sweats like it did the first time he went on a mission as a commissioned member of Sector V. His fight-or-flight kicks in, but he doesn't even know what fight looks like in a situation like this.

"This is important to you, huh?"

A normal response might have been that nobody likes feeling guilty for something that actually is their fault, but the way she says it reminds him of something else he said that fateful day.

"Well, hanging out with an interesting girl after school is hardly the worst way to apologise," he echoes on a gamble.

Her cheeks are too pink for her detached facade to be convincing. This time around, he actually can bask in it. She does narrows her eyes at him, though, so he can't say it paid off just yet.

"Call it a date."

"What?!"

"I'll let you take me out for pizza if you call it a date," she challenges him.

It's his turn to blush. "Is that really necessary?"

“Hmph. Goodbye, Nigel," she mocks as she walks away again.

He's here to apologise, he reminds himself. "Agh, fine! Would you go on a pizza date with me, Lizzie?" he yells.

She spins on her heel so fast, it's his turn to take a step back. The grin on her face and excitement in her eyes are too incongruent with the Lizzie he's been interacting with for the past ten minutes.

She lunges forward to grab his hand then tugs him down the sidewalk with her. "Alright, come on, let's go; I'm starving!" Her voice is too chipper, too. "I wasn't kidding when I said they fed me cold food every day; and if that wasn't bad enough, it all tasted terrible. Of course, I asked if I could cook my own food, but you can't exactly use fire in an ice kitchen in an ice detention in an ice country…"

She prattled on inanely without any prompting or encouragement on his part, but he grits his teeth and bears it. He wants this chance to make it up to her. A pizza date is what she’s asking for, so that is what he’ll do. Afterwards, he no longer has to be weighed down by shame and guilt and confusion. Absolution is the only reason he’s doing this.

(Her hand squeezes his sometimes while they walk, just a small consequence of two separately-moving objects being connected, and he realises he hasn’t let go. It didn’t even cross his mind.)

Well, maybe there will still be confusion, but he can live with that.

~~~

A/N (4.2.2025): This was originally gonna be titled after the “if your heart is getting colder” lyric, but I decided that was too on-the-nose lol

This turned out a lot angstier than I wanted it to, but Lizzie did spend thirty days in Siberian Detention. Whatever she had to say, I let her.

[xyzcekaden]

🕶 operation: m.e.e.t.c.u.t.e. 👓

by airauralintensity (aka me, xyzcekaden!)

memorable encounter explored through changed universes, totally excellent

fandom: codename: kids next door characters: lizzie devine, nigel uno ship: nizie genres: romance, comedy, fluff, pre-canon, first meeting, transfer student!lizzie, hero complex!nigel, nigel pov themes: trashy middle school soap opera, whoever said petty ain't pretty clearly never met lizzie, nigel asks first, ish, inspired by operation pool rating: K for depictions of bullying word count: 2.1k+ chapter: 2/4 rating: K+ for depictions of bullying

read it below, on ffnet, or on ao3!

~~~

A/N (3.28.2025): Your eyes do not deceive you; the chapter count has indeed gone up by one! There will be two versions of this concept, and the second version will be published as its own chapter after the third and final concept.

'Why are there two versions?' you may ask. What had happened was that I drafted this chapter three times before figuring out what I was doing wrong that made me dislike it. (If not for that, this would have been uploaded back in January!) During the editing process, I realised I was trying to go in two directions at once. Instead of making myself choose, though, I just wrote both. (If you're a fandom-agnostic fan of my fics, you'd know that this is a habit of mine, haha.)

Also, I worked on the third concept whenever I was too annoyed with working on this one, which means that's almost done too. Look forward to that upload soon. :)

Special shoutout to sparkymouse. Any work that has their praise is bestowed with the loveliest gift imaginable.

~~~

right in the middle of a war

“When I look into Lizzie’s eyes, I can tell she’s not a jerk.“ - Numbuh 1, Operation P.O.O.L.

~~~

During what should have been an ordinary lunch period, raised voices from across the room manage to catch Nigel’s attention despite the typical buzz of a bustling cafeteria.

“Stop playing dumb! I know it was you!”

“Hel-lo, I barely even know you! Why would I do that?”

A few tables away, fellow fourth-graders Sarah Olin and the new girl Lizzie Devine face-off in combative postures while Andy Belmont and Marybeth March look on tensely.

He narrows his eyes at the scene. It doesn’t seem violent now, but he knows better than anyone how quickly things can get ugly. He eats his lunch faster while he continues to observe. There are a few more verbal jabs that he can't hear, then the two girls turn to involve Marybeth in their argument. He hops out of his seat.

As always, his timing is impeccable. “If I don’t get answers soon, I’ll tell on both of you to the teacher!” Sarah shouts just when he makes it over.

“Now, now,” he speaks up before drastic measures could be taken. “Let’s not involve adults in a kids’ matter.”

Everyone turns to him with varying degrees of welcoming, and he assesses the situation in an instant:

Sarah: The victim. She holds her bookbag like a waste bag and is on the verge of tears.

Lizzie: The main suspect. According to her defensive posture of crossed arms and tapping foot, though, she disagrees.

Andy: The supportive boyfriend who just wants answers. He stands to Sarah’s side and frowns with concern.

Marybeth: … Inconclusive, but her eyes light up when she recognises him, and oh, here she comes.

“Lizzie messed up Sarah’s bookbag with Jell-O, and she’s trying to blame it all on me!”

“Yeah because I’m pretty sure Scary-Breath over here is the one who actually did it!” Lizzie defends immediately, and he regards her with raised eyebrows. He’s never even heard Lizzie Devine shout, much more name call.

Marybeth cries louder, “And now she’s insulting me! Stop her!!”

“I wasn’t sitting near there,” Lizzie yells over Marybeth, wildly seeking to meet the eyes of anyone who will believe her, “and I don’t have anything against Sarah. I couldn’t have done it, and I wouldn’t have anyway!”

Sarah elbows them both out of her way and shoves her bookbag into his face. Her textbooks and folders are covered in gooey orange. “Andy and I left our stuff behind in the cafeteria for a bit. When we came back, there was this gunk all over my books, and Lizzie won’t even say sorry!”

The accused girl whirls on her before he could voice the same question. “Why are you so sure it’s me? Just ‘cause Marybeth said so?” She says the other girl’s name like it’s not even a real word.

Andy ignores her in favour of explaining to Nigel, “I asked Marybeth to watch our stuff for us while we were gone, and she said she saw Lizzie do it.”

Nigel frowns at this new information. Knowledge they were caught is usually all it takes for petty bullies to confess their crimes, but Lizzie doesn’t stand down. If she really is at fault, she has deeper reasons for her actions. Then again, there are also her own allegations about Marybeth’s culpability to consider. He is surely missing something.

He catches a quick glance of Marybeth’s smile in Andy’s direction before Sarah snaps. “I don’t care who did it, but I want payback! What about my homework? What about my glitter gel pens?!” She speaks as though addressing the group at large, but her eyes keep going back to Lizzie.

It doesn’t escape the girl’s notice. “Stop blaming me for something I didn’t do,” she snarls. “This is not my problem; and if you guys don’t leave me alone, I’ll give you a real reason to tattletell on me.” Her hands curl into fists at her side, clarifying any ambiguity about her insinuation.

If Nigel has never heard Lizzie shout before, he’s definitely never heard her deliver a threat. He considers her bared teeth and bellicose stance. People who rely on force tend to be people capable of bullying.

“Nigel, do something!” Marybeth pleads cloyingly.

Everyone returns their attention to him, but he ignores the victims in favour of the suspects. When he looks between them, really looks, he figures out the culprit easily.

Nigel is really good at reading people; he has to be. Being able to discern when someone is lying, who could be an ally, or which interrogation tactics would work best on a target—all with just a glance—is how he became the operative he is today.

Marybeth March is an unassuming but ambitious girl. She’s the kind of person who will cut the line at the ice cream parlour but let kids copy off her homework if they ask. She doesn’t bother people who don’t bother her, so he can’t immediately tell what her motivation would be to sabotage Sarah, as Lizzie claims.

On the other hand, he doesn’t know Lizzie Devine that well, if at all. She only transferred in near the beginning of the school year and has already garnered a reputation for being weird; but as far as he can tell, she simply keeps to herself. This the most he’s ever interacted with her, actually. With how argumentative and threatening she’s being, he can certainly see why Sarah would be more inclined to cast the blame on her than on Marybeth.

Both of them look at him now with expectant eyes, confident in their own innocence yet sure that he will take the side of the majority—but Lizzie is the only one looking back at him. Her gaze has an additional defiance, waiting for him to issue his verdict just so that she can give him a piece of her mind.

There is no way to explain why he knows this to be true, but one more look into her eyes and he can just tell: this girl may be a lot of things, but a jerk isn’t one of them.

He turns to Marybeth and asks plainly, “Were you the one who did this to Sarah’s bookbag?”

Her victim attitude is nowhere to be seen in the face of his direct accusation. “No, of course n-not,” she answers blinkingly.

“Then tell me, how did this happen? If Lizzie did it, what did she do?”

“Well…” She regains control over herself like it’s a physical thing, and his suspicions rise further. “She just came over, opened the bag, dumped the Jell-O in, and walked away.”

“But I didn’t, I swear!” Lizzie interjects. “I don’t even like Jell-O. I got the fruit cup for dessert!” She points at her lunch tray, where an unopened fruit cup stands benignly.

Nigel turns and raises an eyebrow at Marybeth. “What did she do with the Jell-O cup afterwards?”

“She threw it away, obviously,” she answers easily.

“And where is your dessert?”

“I didn’t get one.”

He’s almost offended at how she thought she could get away with such a blatant lie. “Nonsense. No kid skips dessert on the lunch line.”

“Well, I did.”

Andy speaks up for the first time in a while. “But don’t you really like Jell-O? I remember your birthday party last year. Instead of cake, we each got to customise our own cups of Jell-O.”

“You remember that?” Marybeth’s eyes sparkle like a girl talking to her crush, and there it is. Her motivation.

“Did you or did you not pour the sugary gelatin into Sarah’s bookbag?” he presses while she’s vulnerable.

She flinches out of her lovestruck trance and comes face-to-face with quadruple-strength scrutiny. When she starts shifting her weight between her feet, he knows it won’t take long for her to confess.

“FINE! Yes, I admit it! I was the one who ruined Sarah’s bookbag!” she wails. “And why shouldn’t I! She already has everything—shiny hair, pretty clothes, the cutest boyfriend—she doesn’t need good grades, too!!”

If only dealing with tyrannical adults was as easy as dispensing with petty school bullies.

Satisfied, he’s about to begin damage control operations when a different petty problem emerges. “HA!” Lizzie exclaims. “I knew it! I knew you were lying, you no-good, jelly-loving weirdo—umpf!”

He quickly wraps an arm around Lizzie so that he could clasp his hand over her mouth. It is more difficult than he anticipated to keep her quiet and corralled, and her taunting tone is not dampened at all by the inability to form words.

Sarah ignores them. “You can either come with me when I tell on you to Mrs. Thompson, or you can wait until later to find out you have detention,” she tells Marybeth coldly. With that, she spins on her heel and beelines for the cafeteria door, ruined bookbag swinging from her hand beside her.

Marybeth looks after her in defeat but doesn’t move until Andy says something.  “That wasn’t cool, but you knew that already.” He sends her a meaningful, disappointed stare before jogging after his girlfriend.

Marybeth stands there for a moment longer, tearing up and wobbly, before she trudges after them, sniffling to herself as she goes.

That’s when he releases Lizzie, and not a moment too soon.

“What’s the big idea!?” she screeches at him. “That girl tried to make me take the fall for her dumb prank and called me a liar, and she gets to just walk away?!”

“She’s literally walking towards whatever punishment Mrs. Thompson deems fit for her.”

She stomps her foot. “What about me! Where’s my justice?”

The warning bell rings through the lunchroom. "You get a chance to enjoy your fruit cup before lunch is over," he quips.

She snarls then turns her back on him to face her tray. He takes that as his cue to go, but the strong line of her shoulders suddenly deflating stops him from going too far.

"I'm such a loser!" she laments apropos of nothing as she plops down. "You know, when Sarah walked up to me earlier, I thought she was going to invite me to eat lunch with her? But no! Instead, I get yelled at, and accused of something I didn't do, and have to sit through some trashy middle school soap opera… and I still have to eat lunch alone at the end." She stabs her plastic fork into a blueberry and frowns when one of the tines snap off.

Without the shroud of her righteous anger, she looks smaller to him now, like a damsel out of distress instead of a warrior princess.

Nigel doesn't double-guess what he does next. "I can eat lunch with you," he offers as he lowers himself into the seat next to hers.

She glares at him balefully. “I don’t need your pity.”

“Then take my company.”

“You ate already, though,” she rebuts, fast and provoking. “Besides, I know you always eat lunch with your friends. You guys go around like a weird, five-person, human rainbow.”

He has to put effort into holding back a bark of laughter at her observation. No one’s ever said that before, but he sees it. “Not always. Where are they now?” he asks rhetorically. They’re on a mission, and he’s tasked with managing their dummies in the classroom so that they can still get attendance credit while they’re out—but Lizzie doesn’t need to know all that. “I didn’t eat with them today, and I don’t have to eat with them tomorrow either.”

She rolls her eyes. “Sure. I’ll believe you tomorrow, then.”

She looks down at her lunch and picks through it, a dismissal as much as it was an actual attempt to eat her meal. For reasons he won’t understand until later, he doesn’t leave. He just sits with her.

Until he does more than sit.

It’s entirely thoughtless, really, the way he reaches out and plucks a fruit out of her cup.

Her head snaps towards him, and he smirks before popping it in his mouth. “Cherries are my favourite,” he comments blithely.

She stares at him with confused apprehension as he reaches over for her cup of water and takes one sip. He lifts it up a little in a cheersing fashion before putting it back on her tray with resolution.

"I believe we just ate lunch together today, Lizzie."

The bell to end the lunch period rings, and the typical cafeteria buzz remixes with the sound of scratching chairs and hundreds of rubber footsteps tapping on linoleum.

He doesn’t hear any of that, though. Not when the hesitant look in Lizzie’s eyes shifts into something different. Almost shy. Decidedly happy. A thought he didn’t have time to entertain before suddenly comes rushing to the forefront of his mind, and he wants to fast-forward to lunch tomorrow.

Her eyes are kind of pretty.

[xyzcekaden]

🕶 operation: m.e.e.t.c.u.t.e. 👓

by airauralintensity (aka me, xyzcekaden!)

memorable encounter explored through changed universes, totally excellent

fandom: codename: kids next door characters: lizzie devine, nigel uno ship: nizie genres: romance, comedy, fluff, pre-canon, first meeting, transfer student!lizzie, hero complex!nigel, nigel pov, mostly themes: paranoid!nigel, nigel asks first, literal schoolyard bullying, canon typical laws of physics, loosely inspired by operation holiday and stop the g:knd word count: 2.6k+ chapter: 1/3 rating: K+ for depictions of bullying

read it below, on ffnet, or on ao3!

~~~

A/N (1.11.2025): I can’t believe a kids' cartoon is what breaks my 2 year fanfic writing slump. All of this is sparkymouse’s fault. If they didn’t leave such a great comment on just another textbook case, none of this would have happened!!!

I didn’t rewatch every episode of C:KND, just the Lizzie ones. If anything I write contradicts canon (not that the show is overly preoccupied with canon to begin with, lol), then just read this like an AU, nbd. I deal in feels, not facts.

One-shots are in the order of ideation, nothing more particular than that. Chapter titles are from Soldier by the Backstreet Boys.

~~~

somebody shot you down

His working theory is that Lizzie is a disguised alien from a planet of sentient plants sent to monitor Earth’s children, and he just needs the proof.

~~~

“Class, settle down! I have an important announcement to make before homeroom ends!” Mrs. Thompson’s voice rings out above the chatter of fourth graders.

Nigel listens with half a mind as he draws up blueprints for the new scanner he wants to install in mission control. Projectiles smaller than a baseball are currently ignored by the treehouse’s security system, but the Teen Ninjas have started paintballing graffiti onto the tree trunk; and he wants that behaviour curtailed expeditiously.

Normally he’d use this time to chat with his teammates, but they’re all out this morning. Hoagie has food poisoning, Kuki’s got a family emergency, Wally is suspended, and Abby is on some personal candy mission. It’s just him today.

“We have a new student who’ll be joining us for the rest of the year! Please give a warm welcome to our newest classmate, Elizabeth Devine. Elizabeth, why don’t you go and tell us a little bit about yourself?”

He lazily tilts his head up to catch sight of the new girl—long auburn hair in twin braids framing a cherubic face, wide circle glasses framing wide brown eyes, wide frame in general. She doesn’t look like much; but then again, he thought the same of Kuki until he got to know her better.

“Hiii, everyone! I’m Lizzie, and I just turned 10,” she introduces with a voice that sits high in her throat. “I like watching romcoms with my sister and baking pies with my grandma.”

At least she’s American. She won’t have it as bad as he did when he transferred to Gallagher. In fact, he notices a group of girls in the class surround her table once Mrs. Thompson prompts her to sit; and the sound of eager gossip among them starts not too long after. Seems like she’ll be in good hands.

He doesn’t pay her any more attention for the rest of homeroom, and he more or less forgets about her entirely, too… until recess, that is.

While on his customary playground patrol (a routine he is well-equipped to handle even without the rest of his team), he catches sight of a group of kids where the fence meets the wall of the school. Curiosity propels him closer; to his knowledge, that corner of the playground has nothing there to play with.

He doesn’t want to unnecessarily get their attention, though. The point of recess is that kids can spend their time doing whatever they want in order to recharge and face the rest of the school day; so be it if these guys are choosing to spend their time over there. A few paces away, he makes the decision to just leave them be… but then he hears laughter.

It’s not the fun and happy laughter of a good joke; it’s meaner than that. It’s the laughter of bullies.

He lurks on the periphery of the group to observe the situation. Through the gaggle, he sees someone on the ground, but he can’t tell yet whether that person was pushed down.

“But I don’t understand,” a familiar voice pleads. “What was I doing wrong?”

“For crying out loud, girlie! You were eating dirt; do I really have to spell it out for ya?” the ringleader jeers.

Natural shifting of the crowd reveals none other than the new girl, Lizzie, as the center of attention. She’s lounged on the ground, hands trenched in the earth and legs neatly tucked to her side. There are grass stains on her blue skirt and a brown smudge on her cheek, too, lending even more credence to the absurd accusation that Nigel just heard.

Was she really eating dirt? he thinks to himself with slight disgust. That is, admittedly, very, very weird.

But for all that she essentially doomed herself to a lifetime of name-calling and ostracisation, she does not appear distressed at all. Her posture is lax and movements unhurried as she draws herself up to stand.

“Gee, I had no idea…” Her voice wobbles with innocence, and her eyes get impossibly more fawnish.

Nigel’s face hardens. He has to step in before she starts to cry.

“Absolutely no idea that THIS SCHOOL IS FULL OF NOSY BULLIES!!!”

Caught mid-stride, her volume forces him to take a step back. The bullies circling her get the brunt of it, though: the power of her decibels knocks them onto their butts, skidding in the dirt.

“How bored are you that you have to go around causing trouble where there isn’t any, huh!? Does it make you happy to pick on kids all by their lonesome? Kids who aren’t bothering anybody?? Only losers care too much about what other people are doing with their free time! Go touch some grass, why don’t ya!”

Kids flee left and right, but very few escape the wads of turf she throws after her aggressors. Her aim is erratic, but her power and frequency more than make up for it.

Just on the edge of the target zone, Nigel merely watches her defend herself with an eyebrow raised in interest. He believes he just got to know Lizzie better.

“Haven’t had enough yet, baldy?” she growls at him as he walks up to her.

“Trust me, I’ve had plenty; but I’m afraid you’re mistaken. I’d never join a ring of playground bullies like those guys.”

He stands in front of her with feet shoulder-width apart, arms crossed behind his back, and chin held high. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Nigel Uno; but when acting in my capacity as a Kids Next Door operative, I go by Numbuh One,” he says with a slight smirk. He’s not ignorant of the effect he tends to have on people between his position, his confidence, and his accent.

“‘The Kids Next Door’? What’s that?”

The smirk freezes on his face in an awkward way. The KND aims to save kids worldwide from adult tyranny, and no team was more prolific at that mission than Sector V. Based in America as Lizzie was, surely she should have heard of them. Has his team never saved her or her classmates from overpowered bullies, insane teachers, or gross school lunches before?

No matter; he was never one to pass over the chance to advocate for his cause. He passionately describes the mission, vision, and creed of the Kids Next Door; details the various perpetrators who stand against kids’ rights and privileges worldwide; and expounds upon the bonds and camaraderie that forms among operatives.

The only thing that stops him is the bell that signifies the end of recess.

Lizzie noticeably perks up at the sound, to Nigel’s mild embarrassment. “Well… All that being said, you should join us. The Kids Next Door is always on the lookout for promising youths to join our battle against adult tyranny. Extending recess by an extra 15 minutes is one of our long term goals,” he entices.

“That’s real sweet of you to offer, Nigel, but I’ll have to pass. See you in class!” She punctuates her dismissal with a smile and a wave before skipping off towards the school entrance.

He stares, flabbergasted enough to let her get a head start, but he quickly gets himself into gear. “W-W-Wait, are you sure?” he stutters as he catches up to her.

Nigel prides himself on his 100% success rate of recruiting hopefuls into the KND ever since he himself was scouted by Numbuh 5. He knows potential when he sees it, and he’s usually so good at galvanising that potential into action. What part of his impassioned spiel didn’t immediately appeal to her? Lizzie has moxie and gumption and spunk and—

“Yeah. I’m not interested, no offense; I’ve got other hobbies that need my time. I really appreciate the invite, though! Your club sounds like it would be the perfect fit for someone else, someone with way too much time on their hands or who has trouble making their own friends. You know the type. Anyway, good luck with recruitment!”

—absolutely no interest whatsoever. (Not to mention tact.)

He watches the school doors swing shut behind her, bewildered and a little bit offended. What kid would give up the opportunity to join the Kids Next Door?

Then the hamster wheel in his brain kicks into gear, and his eyes narrow.

Unless she isn’t a kid in the first place.

~~~

His working theory is that Lizzie is a disguised alien from a planet of sentient plants sent to monitor Earth’s children, and he just needs the proof.

There’s the alleged dirt thing, of course; but Nigel didn’t see that for himself. He tries tailing her during recess in case of a repeat performance, but she’s since started hanging out with some girls from class. They often gossip in the shade of a tree with branches whose strength he misjudged, and they did not appreciate it when he accidentally crashed onto the flower crowns they were in the process of making one afternoon.

(There is an errant thought about how the crown becomes her when she puts it on, but it is fleeting and ignored in favour of figuring out his next course of action.)

He almost caught her eating celery once during lunch—which is honestly no better than eating dirt and would have been surefire proof she was not a human child—but it turned out to be ants on a log. Just because he doesn’t think that’s a real snack doesn’t mean she’s forcing children to eat vegetables against their wills necessarily. Since then, Nigel’s been monitoring her lunch every day, cleverly taking samples when she wasn’t looking and searching for unknown contaminants hidden in her food that might indicate her true biological identity, but he had to stop after he made the mistake of actually trying one of her homemade meals. He was out of commission for three days after that.

(He can’t help but be impressed that she finishes every bite of her lunches, though. He’s always been jealous of kids who can eat whatever they want without getting sick; it’s almost like a superpower.)

She behaves strangely in class, too. Whenever someone uses an idiom, she has to ask the teacher what it means. On top of that, she actually takes notes and pays attention. That should be enough to make anyone suspicious, but she also doodles! By virtue of their last names, Nigel sits far enough behind her that he can surreptitiously examine her notebook with 2x4 technology (Glaring Ocular Gap Gadget Lets Entities See). The flower sequences she draws all over her notes are patterned in such a way that reminds him of code. He hasn’t quite cracked it yet, but he’s working on it.

(The most common flower has a blue center and yellow petals, which instantly brings to mind the shirts she always wears. It’s to the point where he can pick her out in any crowd by that fact alone.) (For surveillance, of course.)

As far as he’s concerned, he needs no further proof; but he knows his team. If he goes to Sector V with anything less than photographic evidence of Lizzie Devine’s alien heritage, they’ll make fun of him and his paranoia for weeks. He just has to keep observing her until he captures something on camera.

When he reviews the photos later at his locker, however, her eyes seem to take up more and more of the images’ focus.

“These are useless,” he mutters to himself.

“What’s useless?”

“Wah!”

He jerks away from the surprise voice, and the photos from the Long-range Orbit Observations Kaptured Only Using This fly into the air. He hastily grabs at them as they fall down before whirling around to find none other than the object of his investigation holding one that he missed.

“Hey, I look good in this!”

“Lizzie!” he screeches in embarrassment as he snatches the picture out of her hands. How is he going to explain this? “What are you doing here!?”

She crosses her arms and levels him with an unimpressed glare. “As of two weeks ago, I go to school here, Double-Oh-Seven.”

Nigel’s embarrassment is momentarily overshadowed by excitement. “Actually, my Numbuh is One,” he corrects eagerly, thinking this is her way of expressing interest in taking him up on his offer from all that time ago. He knew his sense for potential operatives wasn’t deteriorating! If she joined the KND, it would summarily lay all of his misgivings about her to rest!

“More like Number Dumb,” she scoffs, crashing his hopes again. “When you told me all about your little spy club, you made it sound like you were actually good at spying.”

“I’m one of the best there is!” he retorts with offense.

“That’s sad, then. I could tell you’ve been following me and my friends around for the last two weeks, and I’m actually here to tell you to knock it off. The other girls won’t keep hanging out with me if some loser with a crush is always there to weird them out.”

He blushes something fierce. “I’m not f-following you,” he stammers out. “I-I’m just… gathering valuable intelligence about areas where you happen to be.”

“I see. So this is for one of your missions?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, happy that the easy answer is the truth.

“Can you tell me about it?”

“I—Um. Am! I mean, I am… I am afraid that’s classified.”

“Oh, so I’m a suspect.”

“N-not necessarily.” His voice breaks as he deflects.

“Am I a target, then?”

“I’d be taking much better precautions if you were,” he swears.

She leans forward as she baits, “I’m not any kind of person of interest?”

He blinks. “I, uh, wouldn’t say that…”

She looks him up and down before raising her eyebrow. “For a James-Bond-wannabe, you sure are a bad liar.”

He’s actually a fantastic liar. Normally. He doesn’t know why it’s so hard now, though.

The longer it takes for him to think of something to say, the more amused she looks. She even smirks at him as she leans back.

This is nothing like he’s used to. He knows how to handle himself in front of threats to his safety or threats to other kids’ freedoms, but this? Whatever threat Lizzie poses is not one he has any defences against.

But let it never be said he ever backed down from a threat.

Just when he decides to stop letting her get to him, however, she rolls her eyes and sighs. “Let me make this easy on you, then. Do you know what a pinky promise is?”

“Of course I know what a pinky promise is,” he snaps.

She shrugs. “I just learned about them on Tuesday. Anyway. Ask me whatever question you want, and I pinky promise to answer it honestly.”

He gapes stupidly at her outstretched finger, offered way too lazily considering how vulnerable she’s making herself to him. Whatever internal conflict he was facing doesn’t matter now. He could learn anything about her: where she came from, what she’s doing here, whether she really eats dirt.

It’s a heady feeling.

He sees himself reaching out his own hand in slow motion, not fully cognisant or controlling of his own actions. Not until his skin touches hers.

“Are you free on Saturday?”

Instead of his pinky hooking around hers, his hand settles over her fist in entreaty. He hastily arranges his fingers into the correct orientation before meeting her eyes, and what he sees there makes him gulp.

The guarded look she always wore—the one he can only recognise now that it’s melting away—is replaced with a surprised delight, glittery and warm.

“I sure am.”

She giggles behind her other hand, and the sound wraps around his heart and squeezes a little too tight. If Lizzie really is a threat to the children of Earth, she’ll have to get through him first.

There is no one else he could allow to face her like this.

[xyzcekaden]

sorry i just need to scream about under the oak tree but WHY IS THERE NO TAG FOR QUAHEL LEON?! mild spoilers below

————-

i love riftan and maxi to death but i am not gonna lie i want to know what quahel leon thinks of maxi hahaha he looks like he’s interested of her!!! he’s not like sejur aren who’s just being like the usual flirty gentleman around maxi haha

book 2 is really the best i swear. maybe i’ll write a proper review soon!!

[xyzcekaden]

[xyzcekaden]

Kanojo wa Uso wo Aishisugiteru / カノジョは嘘を愛しすぎてる

Volume 18 Chapter 72

aka She Loves Lies Too Much, The Liar and His Lover

~~~

manga credit: aoki kotomi (青木 琴美) for Cheese! magazine raws credit: raw-zip read online: bato.to

so get this: i told myself i was gonna upload the next chapter on new year's day as a positive omen for the rest of the year... then i over-dicked around and it was already 12:30am on jan 2nd when i realised my folly. whatever omen i manifested, i hope it means more frequent updates from me 🙃 lmao

also, peep the new credit box on the title page! i noticed after the last update that my xlations were getting reposted onto other sites, which i don't inherently mind since the reposters never cover up my name and since those other sites don't have much of a community anyway, but i thought i'd give the props to this awesome site anyway.

as a reminder, the side notes of my reactions on the page will disappear as soon as someone complains about them, so if you're a reader and bothered by that, all you gotta do is say something :)

see y'all soon, hopefully!