this is the start to a cute mini series i think you guys would like :-) everyone asks for more ian but i rarely get actual requests for him so this will hopefully make you all happy and be what you guys were wanting

thank u to jarvisdropmyneedle07 for introducing me to the art that inspired this fic. i would share the art if wattpad didn't keep deleting the photos i was trying to add and then telling me that an unknown error has occurred lol

/ / /

Ian seriously couldn't believe it. For the first time in his entire school life, he had detention.

"It's really not that big of a deal, little brother," Barley said when he was driving him to school. "No one will even remember that you had detention once it's over. Nobody really cares."

"It's just annoying that I have to go," he said, leaning his head against the window. His lips were in a permanent pout. "___ and I weren't even doing anything to begin with. It's not like we were the only ones talking!" 

Barley lifted his shoulders. "The teachers aren't always fair. You know, even in the days of Yore, the young pupils of schoolhouses were constantly---"

Ian sighed heavily. His brother's words quickly drowned as his thoughts clouded him. Like literally, Ian felt as if a grey storm cloud was hanging over his head. He couldn't imagine a crappier start to his weekend. 

What. A. Friday.

For the first time, Ian really didn't want to get out of his brother's van as it pulled up to the school. He grabbed his backpack, unbuckled, and opened the door.

"Listen," Barley said, a genuine, encouraging smile on his face, "I had detention plenty of times. You'll be fine."

Ian got out of the van and nodded. Barley could tell that his brother was a little nervous. 

"I'll pick you up at precisely five p.m. and we will go get celebratory tacos to mark the feeling of freedom of your release!" 

Ian smiled. "Bye, Barley."

"See ya!" 

Ian shut the door and stepped on the curve and his brother was off, the tires squealing loud as he swerved out of the school's pick up zone and back onto the street. Ian pulled his backpack onto his shoulders. 

"You know, I'm kinda nervous about today."

Ian turned and saw you, walking towards him with your hands on your backpack straps. You turned and waved to your dad as he pulled away from the curb and out of the lot. 

For a brief moment, Ian forgot how to breathe; lately he'd been noticing more and more how much he liked how your hair sat on your shoulders. Today you were wearing it pulled up with a bright green scrunchie. He loved how you looked with your hair out of your face. He liked it almost as much as when you had it pushed back in that blue headband---

You raised your eyebrows. "Hello? Iandore, are you there?" 

He blinked quickly. "W-What? Sorry, I was... uh, thinking about... about something else."

You nodded. "I was saying that I'm kind of nervous about today. You hear all those rumors about what happens in detention. I wonder what they'll make us do."

"What kinds of rumors?" he asked. 

"I don't know, like the one where they make you clean the bathrooms," you said, "or what about the one where you have to watch that old video of a guy dressed up as a superhero tell you not to misbehave again?"

"Oh, that does sound awful." He laughed. 

"That's probably what we will be facing," you said, "and here we could've been doing anything else in the world."

"Yeah," he said. 

You exhaled loudly. "Well, I really don't want to get an extra day added to detention, so I'd better get to class. I'll see you at lunch, okay?" 

"Okay." He nodded. "I should go too, I was going to stop by the library and grab a book to read just in case detention is boring or something."

"Good idea." You held up your first and he bumped his against yours. "See you, Iandore." 

/ / 

The day went by quickly, which was the last thing that Ian wanted it to do. Every hour that brought him closer to detention caused a major effect on his emotions. By the end of last period, he was dragging his feet to his locker. He unlocked it slower than he ever had. He barely looked up to grab his backpack off of the rusty hook. He didn't even bother putting his books back neatly, the way he always did. 

And then he made his way to the detention room --- room 003, right in the creepy, stuffy basement --- and he saw for the first time what the detention room looked like. 

"Please, take a seat," the teacher said. Ian didn't know her really. She was a middle aged goblin with curly yellow hair. He recognized her as the music teacher. He had never taken one of her classes --- and he was thankful that he hadn't, because she looked as scary as he thought she might.

Ian took a seat next to you. You were in the back of the detention room, staring straight at the wall until he came in. A look of relief fell upon your face as he walked in and quickly took the seat next to you. Ian realized that it was just you and him in there; no one else had detention.

The teacher closed the door, took her seat at the front of the class, and put headphones on. She grabbed a magazine and opened it. Her music was up so loud that both you and Ian could hear the loud words flooding from the speakers. 

You looked at Ian, smiled slightly, and then cracked open your notebook. You grabbed your pen and started to write. 

Ian swallowed nervously. He felt oddly cold, even in the stuffy basement. Cold, yet sweaty. Nerves, he guessed. He took out the book he had grabbed from the library. As he opened it, you hurriedly and silently dropped a note on the corner of his desk. 

He looked at you quickly before he unfolded it. 

You look scared, Iandore. 

He picked up his pencil. 

So do you.

He tried to hand you the note, but he dropped it as he tried. His body froze as the teacher's eyes flickered from over her glasses and magazine and directly at his hand, which hovered over the piece of paper on the floor. Ian gave her a nervous smile. She looked away. 

He picked it up and handed it to you. You were stifling a laugh now. 

Ian pretended to read, but he couldn't. He was genuinely excited for the note to be passed back. It had been a long while since the two of you had passed notes in class. Texting had pretty much replaced that a few years ago. He had forgotten how much fun it was. 

I'm not too scared, you wrote to him. I'm just scared of her. 

Beside 'her' was a drawing of the teacher, her tongue out and curled like a snake's. Her teeth dripped venom. A bubble appeared over her head that said, I AM GOING TO MURDER THESE MISBEHAVING KIDS.

Ian struggled to hold back his laugh. He folded the paper over and bit down hard on his lip. You held a hand over your mouth and forced yourself to keep your eyes on your desk. 

What do you think she has planned for us? Bathroom cleaning maybe?

He passed the paper. 

You wrote a response. 

You passed it back. 

I'm starting to think she will go to straight up slaughtering and eating us. Maybe those cookies that they're always bringing out of the break room are really made out of the kids that did them all wrong. 

That does sound scary.

At least I've got you to protect me, right? 

Uh, sure?

I mean, won't you bravely offer yourself first so I can make a daring escape and tell all of your brave and heroic final act?

Ian's cheeks flushed pink. 

If we were really going to be eaten, then I guess. Maybe. 

Oh this is 100% real Iandore. 100%. I'll tell everyone of Sir Iandore the brave knight.

I'll finally be so popular.

And I'll be popular too. But I'll be alive so it'll be better for me. 

Jeez, aren't you a great best friend?

After he passed the paper back to you, you kept it for much longer than a few seconds. Minutes passed --- five. Ten. Fifteen. He kept looking at you and mouthing, "What are you doing?" and you would just hold up a finger and grin at him. 

To pass the time, Ian just decided to admire how your hair looked again. He really liked the scrunchie, he decided. It was growing on him more and more as the day went on. 

Finally, you passed him a fresh sheet of paper that was folded in half. He glanced up at the teacher to make sure she didn't notice anything and he slowly opened the paper and saw a drawing of him done in ink pen of him on a white alicorn with huge fluttering, purple feathered wings and a large silver horn on its head. He was holding a bow and arrow, pointed directly at the teacher that sat in front of him, except in the drawing she was about six feet taller and slumped forward with green ooze dripping off of her arms and face. In dramatic cursive you wrote at the bottom: SIR IANDORE OF LIGHTFOOT. It was straight out of his brother's favorite game. 

"Wow," he mouthed. He looked at you and you smiled. "No wizard?"

You shook your head. "I like the---" You pulled your arms to pretend you were firing an arrow. 

He nodded, his cheeks pink again. He looked from the drawing to you. 

"You're cute," you mouthed. Your eyes widened as your realized what you had just said. "I mean as the---" You did the hand movement again.

Ian's heart was freaking out in his chest. He pressed his lips together so hard into a line and he had to look away because he knew that his face was blushing so hard that he had to look purple right now. He swallowed hard and covered his mouth for a moment as he looked back at you just because he had to know if you looked similar to how he did. 

"Do you like it?" you mouthed back nervously.

He nodded. It really was great; it was completely goofy and weird, but he liked it. 

He grabbed his pen and started to add to the drawing. He lost track of time, and it wasn't until the teacher removed her headphones and dropped the gossip magazine that he looked up from what he was working on. 

"It's five o'clock now," she said, staring ahead blankly. "So you two may go."

Already?  Ian was suddenly disappointed. 

"But I'm gonna have to ask you to come back Monday afternoon. You spent the entire time passing notes and goofing around. In case you haven't realized, this is detention, not your house. It isn't a chance to mess around. You are supposed to learn your lesson. Report back here Monday after final period."

Without another word, she gathered her belongings and left the room. Ian stood up. His phone was already vibrating in his pocket; Barley must already be waiting for him to come outside. He cleared his throat and turned towards you. 

"So I'll see you Monday," he said. 

"Yeah, uh, I guess so." You closed your notebook and grabbed your backpack. "Is it bad I'm kind of excited now?" 

"I am too. Uh, this was actually a lot of... fun," he finished breathlessly, smiling so wide that it hurt his face. 

"Yeah it was." You pointed at the drawing that he was still holding. "I want to see what you added on my drawing though, Iandore."

"Oh, uh---" He looked down at it and it slipped out of his hands. He dropped down to pick it up where it slid under your desk. He picked it up and stood up quickly, only to fall back down as he crashed his head against your desk. "Ouch!" 

"Holy tooth of Zadar, are you okay?" you asked. He rubbed his head as he stood and you reached to touch the back of his head. "You hit your head so hard---"

"I'm fine," he said quickly, stepping back and bumping against his desk. You pulled your arm away.

Great job, Ian.

He handed the folded drawing to you, but accidentally brushed his hand. His cheeks flushed and you pulled back quickly, hiding your face and moving your notebook against your chest to hold it there. Ian's heart was about to crash through his chest; he couldn't believe how much he liked you. 

And every minute he spent here was a minute he spent embarrassing himself, apparently.

"I'll, uh, see you Monday. Okay? Unless... unless you want me to walk you outside?"

"No, it's okay," you said, nodding. "I'll, uh, have to call my dad right now and he's just down the road." 

"Okay." He nodded and headed towards the door. "Well, Barley's blowing up my phone currently. He's probably dying to know if I survived."

You laughed. "Be sure to tell me what he says about us having it again on Monday."

"Oh I will," he said. "I bet he'll be so proud." 

"I'm so glad you finally win the approval of your brother," you said, shaking your head. 

"Are you kidding? You won that years ago. All you had to do was nickname me Sir Iandore of Lightfoot and now he definitely likes you more than me." He laughed. 

You giggled. "Good to know."

"Yeah," he replied. He backed up slowly and put his hand on the door handle. "I'll, uh, see you, Lady ___."

Your eyebrows furrowed and he was gone, walking awkwardly and quickly down the hall. You looked down at the paper and unfolded it. Your face heat up and your grin spread across your cheeks as you saw what he had added. 

No question about it, it was you, sitting on the alicorn in front of Ian, your hand on his chest your eyes on him, your legs swung over one side of the creature, your hair pulled up in a scrunchie like today. You wore a gown of light pink and rich gold, with your skirt flowing behind the alicorn as it flew you and Ian across the sky. Ian was protecting you by defeating the evil goblin teacher. 

You laughed as you looked at it, feeling your heart thud hard in your chest. He had drawn you like you were incredibly beautiful or something. It was totally unlike how you thought about yourself looking, and yet at the same time it was completely accurate to how Ian pictured you, and you knew it. He was just a sweet guy. 

Jeez, did you like that boy. 

You folded the drawing and tucked it away in your notebook. You couldn't wait until Monday.