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Chapter Text

The halls of Monster High buzzed with their usual cacophony of laughter, locker doors slamming, and the occasional eerie howl.

But today, a charged atmosphere hung in the air, as if the students had collectively decided to test the boundaries of public displays of affection.

Draculaura stood at her locker, her compact mirror in one hand as she carefully adjusted her lipstick. A mischievous grin crept across her face as she admired her reflection, giving herself a final nod of approval. Satisfied, she tucked the compact away and was just about to turn when a familiar, clawed hand slammed against the locker beside her, pinning her in place.

She smirked as her crimson eyes trailed up the muscular arm to meet the playful grin of her boyfriend, Clawd Wolf.

"Hey there, little bat," Clawd rumbled, his deep voice dripping with charm. "You’re lookin’ pretty hot today."

Draculaura tilted her head coyly, letting her fangs peek out as she ran a finger down his arm. "Hey, big wolf," she purred, her tone teasing. "I never realized how... strong you are."

Clawd blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before his grin widened. "Oh yeah? I’ve been working out. Feel this." He flexed his arm, the muscle taut beneath her touch.

Draculaura giggled, leaning in closer, her fingers brushing his bicep. "Mmm, very impressive," she whispered. "But you’re lucky I like you for more than just your muscles."

Clawd smirked, lowering his face until his nose nearly touched hers. "Yeah? What else do you like me for?"

Draculaura’s eyes glinted as she tapped his chest playfully. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"

Clawds eyes glinted mischievously as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "You know, Lala," he drawled, his fangs flashing in a teasing grin, "you’re like a full moon to me—impossible to ignore and completely irresistible."

Draculaura giggled, her pink cheeks matching her usual aesthetic. She lightly swatted his chest but didn’t move away. "Clawd, you can’t just say things like that out here!" she whispered, her voice tinged with mock scolding. "Someone might overhear..."

"And?" he countered, the tip of his nose grazing hers. "Let ’em. If I’m gonna howl about how crazy I am for you, why not give ’em a show?"

Further down the hallway, Cleo de Nile leaned casually against her locker, her perfectly polished nails toying with her golden serpent cuff. Deuce Gorgon stood in front of her, his arms crossed and his trademark shades pushed down just enough for his serpents to playfully hiss at her.

"You know, babe," Deuce said with a smirk, his voice as smooth as stone, "you shine so bright, I might need to double up on my shades."

Cleo let out a soft laugh, her crimson lips curling into a smirk. "Please, Deuce, flattery will get you everywhere." She trailed a finger down his chest. "Though, if you're lucky, I might just let you worship me later."

"Really?" he said, starring at her with a devilish smirk

"Really" she purred, a mischievous look on her face

A few lockers down, Lagoona Blue was perched on a bench, her finned legs crossed gracefully. Her ever-so-slightly dripping hair framed her glowing face as she glanced up at Gil Webber, who stood nervously in front of her, clutching his water helmet.

"Y’know, Gil," Lagoona began, her Australian accent lilting with a teasing edge, "you’re lookin’ extra handsome today. What’s the occasion?"

Gil blushed, his gills flaring slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, no occasion. Just, um, thought I’d try to impress my favorite ghoul."

Lagoona’s laugh was soft and musical as she reached out to tug on his tie, pulling him a little closer. "Oh, you’ve done more than that, mate. You’ve completely swept me off my fins."

Gil chuckled nervously but leaned in, his forehead almost touching hers. "Good. ’Cause you’re the only ghoul I wanna impress."

"Oh, stop it!" she said teasingly as she playfully swatted gil

By the stairs, Heath Burns was leaning casually against the railing, a flickering flame dancing at the tip of his finger. He grinned as Abbey Bominable approached, her usual icy demeanor softened by the smallest hint of a smirk.

"Hey, snowflake," Heath greeted, his flame brightening as he twirled it like a magician. "You know, for someone so cool, you’ve got me feeling pretty hot under the collar."

Abbey arched a brow, crossing her arms as she regarded him with mock skepticism. "Is that your best line, fire boy? You must try harder."

Heath straightened, pretending to be offended. "Hey, I’ve got plenty more where that came from. Like... did it hurt when you fell from the mountain? ’Cause you’re ice-cold perfection."

Abbey paused, her lips twitching as if fighting back a laugh. "Hmm. That was... slightly better," she admitted, stepping closer. Her icy breath frosted the air between them. "But maybe you should stop talking for a moment."

Heath blinked. "Wait, why—"

Before he could finish, Abbey grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pulled him into a kiss, her cold lips meeting his warm ones in a surprising burst of intensity. For a moment, the fiery boy and frosty girl were perfectly balanced, their opposites attracting in a way that silenced the entire hallway.

When they finally broke apart, Heath’s flames were sputtering, his cheeks redder than ever. "Whoa... Okay, that was… totally worth it."

Abbey smirked, brushing an invisible speck of frost from her shoulder. "You talk too much. Kissing is better."

Nearby, Toralei Stripe was practically draped over Clawdeen Wolf as they lounged on the windowsill. Toralei’s tail flicked back and forth lazily, her sharp grin matching the sly look in her eyes.

"Y’know, Wolfie," Toralei purred, her voice dripping with mock innocence, "for a 'lone wolf,' you sure do seem to enjoy having me around."

Clawdeen raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a knowing smile. "You’re lucky you’re cute, kitty, or I’d show you what this 'lone wolf' is capable of."

Toralei chuckled, leaning in close enough that their noses almost touched. "Oh, I’m counting on it."

Throughout the hallway, similar scenes were playing out. The normally shy Invisi-Billy was now openly flirting with his girlfriend, Scarah screams. Manny was actively flexing his biceps for Iris to feel, and Venus was now in an openly flirty conversation with her girlfriend Robeeca.

This was heavily confusing for Frankie stein, who had walked into Monster High to see all of her friends behaving completely out of character. She had been used to so many of her friends dating, but she never expected to see them act like this before and especially not in school of all places.

She brushed her stitched chin thoughtfully, her brows furrowed. "Why is everyone acting so strange?" she murmured to herself. "Is this because of what happened on Friday?"

Curious, frankie walked up to draculaura, still engaged in her flirtatious conversation with Clawd.

"Hey, Draculaura?" Frankie called out, catching the vampire's attention as she turned away from Clawd.

"Oh, hi Frankie!" Draculaura spoke, her voice giddier then usual

As she approached Draculaura and Clawd, she noticed they were standing a little too close for comfort. “What’s going on? Everyone seems so... different today.”

Draculaura giggled. “Oh, Frankie, you’re so innocent. You mean you haven’t noticed?”

“Noticed what?” Frankie tilted her head, genuinely intrigued.

Clawd smirked. “Let’s just say, everyone’s feeling a little... frisky.”

Frankie frowned, still not fully understanding. “Frisky? Like... a puppy? Or is this like when Heath set off that itching powder prank last semester?”

Draculaura burst out laughing. “No, sweetie. It’s more like... people are thinking about romance and... uh, other stuff.”

“Other stuff?” Frankie’s eyes widened with curiosity. “Like what?"

Before Draculaura could respond, a sharp AHEM echoed through the hallway.

All heads turned to see Headmistress Bloodgood standing tall, a ruler in one hand and a megaphone in the other. Her expression was a blend of exasperation and that unique "I’ve-had-enough-of-your-nonsense" energy only she could muster.

"Attention, students of Monster High!" she barked, her voice strict and authoritative. "I understand that you may still be a little overenthusiastic after last Friday's... incident, but let me remind you that this is a school, not a romance retreat! Kindly make your way to class before the bell rings!"

For a moment, an eerie silence swept over the hallway as students exchanged amused and mildly annoyed glances.

Then, as if Headmistress Bloodgood were an elaborate decoration rather than an authority figure, they turned back to their conversations, completely ignoring her.

Draculaura sighed and resumed talking to Frankie. "Anyway, like I was saying, we were just about to—"

"EXCUSE ME!" Bloodgood's amplified voice boomed through the megaphone, shaking the very lockers. Her frustration was almost palpable. "Did ANY of you hear what I just said?!"

The chatter abruptly ceased, and all eyes turned to the increasingly annoyed headmistress.

"Yeah, we heard you," Cleo said, arms crossed and unimpressed as ever. "We just don’t care."

Bloodgood gasped, her jaw dropping as though Cleo had struck her with a mummy’s curse. Quickly regaining her composure, she pointed the ruler at the Egyptian diva. "Young lady, that is NO way to—"

"Are you done yet?" Lagoona interrupted, raising an eyebrow and leaning casually against Gil, whose arm was draped around her shoulders. "You’re interruptin’ me flirtin’ with me mate, y’know?"

Bloodgood’s eye twitched. She could feel a vein popping somewhere under her high collar. She had braced herself for the usual teenage antics hackington had described but was utterly unprepared for this level of brazen defiance.

"Miss Blue, I will NOT tolerate such behavior in my school!" Bloodgood bellowed into the megaphone, her voice reverberating through the hallway. "As long as I am your headmistress, you WILL follow my rules! No inappropriate behavior! No public displays of affection! Now, GET TO CLASS—IMMEDIATELY!"

A collective groan rippled through the crowd as the students reluctantly picked up their books and trudged to their classrooms, grumbling all the way.

As the last student disappeared into a doorway, Bloodgood leaned against the wall and let out a deep sigh. "It’s not even lunchtime, and they’re already testing my patience... This is going to be a long day."

"Alright, brats!" Mr. Rotter bellowed, slamming his book onto the desk with a loud BANG that silenced all chatter in the classroom. "We’re diving into advanced monster history today, so get your textbooks out and try to stay focused for once."

As the class reluctantly pulled out their books, Lagoona was noticeably distracted, her gaze flicking to her phone every few seconds. She was clearly waiting for something—or someone.

Just as Rotter began his lecture, her phone buzzed. She snatched it up, a sly smile creeping across her face as she read the text:

"Pool’s all clear. Come quick!"

Lagoona’s hand shot up so fast it was a miracle it didn’t dislocate her shoulder. "Oi, Mr. Rotter!"

Rotter paused mid-sentence, glaring at her with the exasperation of a teacher who had long since given up on wrangling teenagers. "Yes, Lagoona?"

"Can I head to the bathroom?" she asked, her voice dripping with urgency. "I, uh, really can’t hold it!"

Rotter pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long, tired sigh. "Fine. But make it quick. And don’t make this a habit!"

"Thanks!" she chirped, leaping from her seat and darting out the door before he could change his mind.

As the door swung shut behind her, Frankie tilted her head curiously. "Wonder what’s got her in such a rush?"

Meanwhile, Lagoona sprinted through the halls, her heart racing—not because of the urgency she’d claimed, but from sheer excitement. As she ran through the halls, she passed by groups of students who seemed far more interested in making out than heading to class, but she paid them no mind. She had a destination in mind, and she wasn’t about to waste any time.

Moments later, she reached the school pool. The large, echoing room was blissfully empty, just as the text had promised. Sunlight streamed through the windows, glinting off the water’s surface like shimmering jewels.

Gil was waiting by the poolside. His helmet was off, his sleeves rolled up, and his smile was as radiant as ever.

"Miss me, hot stuff?" he teased, walking toward her with a cocky grin.

"You know it, mate!" Lagoona replied, closing the gap between them in an instant.

Their lips met in a fiery, passionate kiss, one that carried the thrill of rebellion and the sweetness of young love. As their hands explored each other's bodies, their eyes glowed faintly with a fiery pink hue. After a few seconds of kissing, Lagoona paused and glanced around the room, her playful expression momentarily replaced with a hint of caution.

"Are you sure no one’s here?" she whispered, her voice laced with concern. "I don’t want any guppies walking in on us."

Gil gave her a mock salute, standing tall like a knight sworn to his queen. "Triple-checked. It’s just you and me, babe."

Her grin returned, wider and more mischievous than before. "Good," she said with a wink, before ripping off her top and diving straight into his arms, as the sounds of kissing and moaning filled the empty gym

The muffled sounds from the pool room eventually reached the ears of a hall monitor, one of Bloodgood's newest recruits tasked specifically with cracking down on "scandalous activity."

Hearing the commotion, he straightened his badge, muttered something about teenagers, and marched toward the pool with the determination of someone who fully intended to enforce the rules.

"Alright, party’s ov—" he began, throwing the doors open dramatically.

But his words died in his throat as he took in the scene before him.

Gil and Lagoona had taken their escapades to one of the secluded corners of the pool room, hidden away from prying eyes. The air was thick with humidity and the faint scent of chlorine, but neither of them noticed. They were lost in each other, their bodies pressed tightly together, a tangle of limbs and desperate need.

Now both were naked, their clothes strewn haphazardly across the tiled floor, a testament to their hurried and frenzied undressing. Lagoona sat astride Gil, her body glistening with sweat, her blue hair cascading down her back in damp waves. Her eyes were locked onto his, her pupils dilated with desire as she leaned down to kiss him passionately and aggressively.

Their mouths clashed in a hungry, desperate dance, teeth clinking and tongues battling for dominance. Gil's hands roamed Lagoona's body like hungry wolves, tracing the curves of her hips, the dip of her waist, the swell of her breasts. He gripped her flesh tightly, his fingers leaving faint red marks on her skin as he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss.

Lagoona moaned into his mouth, her body undulating against his as she ground her hips down, feeling his hardness pressed against her. She could feel the slick heat of her arousal coating her thighs, her body aching with the need to be filled. She broke away from the kiss, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she looked down at Gil, her eyes wild with lust.

"Gil," she panted, her voice husky and low. "I need you. I need you inside me."

Gil's hands gripped her hips tightly, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire, his breath coming in short, sharp pants. "Fuck, Lagoona," he growled. "You're so fucking sexy. I want to feel you come all over my cock."

Lagoona's lips curled into a wicked smile as she reached down between them, her fingers wrapping around his hard length. She stroked him slowly, her thumb circling the sensitive tip, drawing a low groan from deep within his chest. She positioned him at her entrance, her body trembling with anticipation as she slowly sank down onto him, inch by delicious inch.

Gil's head fell back, his eyes fluttering closed as he let out a low, guttural moan. "Fuck, Lagoona," he gasped. "You feel so fucking good."

His eyes widened, his face turning several shades of crimson as he froze in the doorway like a deer caught in headlights.

After a long, agonizing pause, the monitor finally found his voice. "Nope. Nope, nope, nope," He muttered, shaking his head vigorously as he backed out of the room. "I do not get paid enough for this."

Turning on his heel, he walked briskly back down the hallway, muttering under his breath about "The horrors of youth" and "Desperately needing a career change." Behind him, the sounds of kissing, moaning and the repeated slapping of skin carried on, uninterrupted.

Meanwhile, in Mr. Where's theater class, the lesson on 20th-century filmmaking was struggling to gain traction. Despite Mr. Where’s best efforts to keep the class engaged, he was repeatedly interrupted by students either making out, openly flirting, or having shockingly graphic conversations that had absolutely nothing to do with movies—or school, for that matter.

Porter Geiss slouched in his chair, his head propped up on his fist, tuning out the chaos as Mr. Where valiantly tried to continue.

When Porter and Kiyomi transferred to Monster High, he’d been excited by the idea of a fresh start, staying closer to Spectra, and leaving behind the endless pandemonium of Haunted High.

But so far? Monster High hadn’t exactly lived up to the hype. If anything, it was just as chaotic—only with way more drama.

His eyelids grew heavier as Mr. Where’s lecture droned on, the world around him becoming a dull hum. Porter was just about to surrender to sleep when he felt a hand slide up to his crotch and pull down the zipper

Porter jolted awake, blinking rapidly as he turned to see his ghostly girlfriend, Spectra, standing beside him. A mischievous grin played on her translucent lips, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Spectra, what the hell are you doing?" Porter whispered, his tone panicked yet careful to keep his voice low enough not to draw attention.

"Just thought you could use a little... distraction," Spectra replied, her grin widening as she began to unzip his pants, the mischief in her expression not fading for even a second.

"I appreciate the thought!" Porter whispered back, his voice wavering somewhere between relaxed and frantic. "But what if someone sees us?"

Spectra tilted her head, one eyebrow raised in amused defiance. "Would you rather sit here and suffer through this snooze-fest of a lesson?"

Porter opened his mouth to respond but found himself at a loss for words.

"Exactly..." Spectra said as her hand began to move up and down on his ghostly shaft, a fiery pink glow in her eyes. "Now be a good boy and stay still. I promise this will be worth it."

Meanwhile, Mrs. Kindergrubber’s baking class was unusually calm for once. Sure, she had to throw in the occasional stern reminder, but her students were actually paying attention—well, most of them. The usual interruptions were minimal, and the atmosphere hummed with a rare focus.

“Now, keeping a steady oven temperature is crucial,” she explained, pulling a tray of perfectly golden cupcakes from the oven. “Too hot or too cold, and your cupcakes will be ruined.” Her voice carried with the authority of someone who knew her craft.

Johnny Spirit sat at his station, doing his best to focus on her words. He whisked the batter in front of him, trying to stay on task, but his attention kept drifting to her. 

Across the room, Operetta leaned casually against her counter, her glowing pink eyes locked onto him like a predator sizing up her prey.

She slowly swirled her third lollipop, her tongue flicking around it in a way that was deliberate, almost taunting. The devious glint in her eyes made her intentions crystal clear, and Johnny’s chest tightened with a mix of excitement and frustration.

The pull between them was magnetic, impossible to ignore. The longer her gaze lingered on him, the harder it became to concentrate. His grip on the whisk tightened as his cock strained against his jeans, and his thoughts strayed far from the cupcakes as his eyes glowed with a pink hue. If this class didn’t end soon, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could sit still

After a while, The bell’s echo reverberated through the winding halls of Monster High, signaling lunchtime at last. 

Students spilled into the creepateria, their chatter blending with the clatter of trays and the hum of fluorescent lights. The air was a bizarre cocktail of scents—roasted brain puffs, ghost pepper soup, and whatever that was bubbling ominously in the corner.

But even lunch wasn't enough for students to cease their naughty behavior.

Couples made out for everyone to see.

Some students had sneaked off to 'chat' with others in the bathroom.

And the toralei along with her group of bad girls, sat in a corner of the cafeteria, scooping out all of the athletes like they were eye candy.

At their usual table in the back, the ghouls gathered like a coven plotting their next wicked scheme. Lunch trays were tossed aside in favor of whispered gossip and mischievous glances. It didn’t take long for Cleo, ever the queen of drama and scandal, to set the tone for the conversation.

“So, ghouls,” she began, her golden scepter tapping rhythmically against the table as she surveyed her audience. Her grin was as sharp as her cheekbones. “Let’s talk about what really matters. Which of our boyfriends is the absolute best... in the bedroom?”

The table erupted into gasps, stifled laughs, and a few awkward coughs. Abbey and iris, though intrigued chose to sit this one out, as they hadn’t had many sexual experiences with their boyfriends, iris not having any at all

Draculaura, ever the romantic, recovered first, a sly smile spreading across her lips. “Oh, that’s easy! Clawd takes the prize, no question. Werewolves are... well, let’s just say he’s got the energy to keep me howling all night.” She giggled, her fangs catching the dim light as her cheeks turned a deep shade of red.

Lagoona leaned forward, her sea-green eyes glinting with amusement. “Sweetie, you’ve got no idea. Gil’s got stamina like you wouldn’t believe. Sure, he’s all shy and innocent on the surface, but underwater? Let’s just say this fish doesn’t stop swimming until I’m completely drained.” She winked, drawing a round of knowing giggles.

Cleo rolled her eyes, flicking her golden locks over her shoulder. “Please. Deuce makes all of your boys look like amateurs. He’s got it all—chiseled abs, smooth moves, and let’s not forget the snakes. They’ve got... a lot of personality, if you know what I mean.” Her tone dripped with innuendo, and the table collectively gasped, some ghouls covering their mouths to suppress laughter.

Ghoulia, ever the silent observer, tapped furiously on her tablet before spinning it around to reveal her contribution: "Size matters.” The group leaned in closer as she hit a button, scrolling to add, “And Slo-Mo’s got all of you beat. Have you seen that dick?"

Draculaura clutched her chest, pretending to swoon, while Lagoona dissolved into laughter.

Cleo’s gaze turned to Venus, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, watching the chaos unfold with a smirk. “What about you?” Cleo prompted, narrowing her eyes. “Or are you going to sit this one out?”

Venus tilted her head, her smirk growing into a full-on grin. “Can any of your boys vibrate their hands?” she asked, her voice dripping with faux innocence.

The room fell silent. Every jaw at the table dropped in unison, even Cleo’s.

“Exactly,” Venus continued, leaning back in her chair. “Robecca might be a little... old-school, but trust me, she’s got more tricks up her gears than any of you can imagine. It’s... intense.”

Draculaura buried her face in her hands, giggling uncontrollably, while the rest of the table exploded into scandalized laughter and exclamations.

“Venus, you can’t just drop that kind of bombshell!” Lagoona gasped between fits of giggles.

“Oh, I absolutely can,” Venus shot back, winking.

The cacophony of laughter gradually subsided, replaced by the clatter of cutlery against plates, as Frankie Stein finally joined her ghoulfriends at their usual table in the Creepateria. Her bright, stitched-together smile widened, revealing her charming, if slightly crooked, teeth. 

“Hey ghouls!” she chirped, her voice bubbling with her usual enthusiasm. “Whatcha guys up to?” Her patchwork hand reached for a rogue fry that had strayed from Abbey’s plate, her bright blue and green mismatched eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Draculaura, ever the dramatic one, leaned conspiratorially across the table, her fangs glinting mischievously. A wicked grin stretched across her pale face, her dark heart-shaped lips curving upwards. “We were just having a little chat about… well, about which of our boys is the best… in bed,” she whispered, the words hanging in the air like a secret only they knew. She fluttered her long, dark eyelashes theatrically, a blush rising to her cheeks despite herself.

Frankie's brow furrowed, her stitched-up features contorting into a mask of adorable confusion. “Bed? Like… sleeping?” Her head tilted slightly, a question mark written all over her youthful, stitched face. She was still relatively new to the nuances of mortal life, and frankly, some things just didn’t quite compute for the newly created ghoul.

A fresh wave of laughter erupted from the table, some of the ghouls practically choking on their goop-shakes and monster munchies. Lagoona in particular, nearly sprayed her grape juice all over Cleo, who shrieked in a mixture of disgust and amusement. Abbey, ever the supportive friend, thumped lagoona on her back, attempting to cease her coughing fit with no avail.

Cleo, always one to make a statement, waved a perfectly manicured hand dismissively. The golden jewelry she wore glinted under the eerie fluorescent lights of the Creepateria. 

“Frankie, you poor soul,” she exclaimed, her perfectly lined eyes widening in exaggerated astonishment. “Do you even know what sex is?” Her tone was a mix of genuine concern and playful teasing; it was all in good fun, of course.

Frankie's mismatched gaze darted between her friends, her internal systems whirring.

“Never heard of it,” 

The collective gasp that followed was almost deafening. 

Every ghoul at the table, from the usually stoic Cleo to the usually boisterous lagoona, seemed utterly floored. It felt as if Frankie had dropped a bomb of pure naiveté into the middle of their casual banter.

“Frankie!” Cleo began, leaning across the table, her tone hushed and conspiratorial. “You poor, innocent, stitched-together soul! Let me tell you, it’s a good thing, a very good thing. It’s what you do when you’re, like, totally in love, and you want to be with them forever… in, ahem, that way.” She winked, her gold eye makeup shimmering under the lights.

Frankie’s eyes widened, her curiosity piqued. “Really?” she asked, her voice a mix of fascination and wonder.

"Absolutely," Cleo replied, a sly smirk playing on her lips. “It’s, like, the ultimate expression of affection, you know?" She leaned back and smirked, glad to be the bearer of such fascinating information.

"Tell me more!!” 

“Gladly!” 

And so, for the next ten minutes, the ghouls took it upon themselves to educate Frankie on all things regarding sex, the monster edition. They spoke of everything, from the basics of human (and monster) anatomy to the nuances of different positions. They touched on techniques, toys, and the various sounds one might make during the act, all with colorful, and often exaggerated, descriptions.

Frankie listened in rapt attention, her mind absorbing the information like a sponge, her eyes wide and bright.

As they spoke of passionate embraces and shared intimacies, Frankie felt a strange mix of emotions swirling within her.

She felt a sense of… well, she wasn’t entirely sure.

It was a heady mix of something that felt strangely akin to horniness, desire, lust, and a strange, almost greedy curiosity. Concepts that had always seemed somewhat abstract, or even forbidden, were suddenly coloring her world, inviting her to explore the depths of her own experiences.

It was like a flood of sensation, overwhelming and exhilarating all at once.

“What’s ‘making out’ again?” Frankie asked, her voice a little breathier now. The concept of physical intimacy, of connecting with someone in such a way, was both fascinating and deeply arousing.

“Oh, sweetie,” Cleo cooed, her voice laced with a hint of playful hunger. “It’s like… kissing, but with tongue. Lots and lots of tongue.” She pressed her lips together in a brief demonstration, a glint of anticipation in her eyes.

“How exactly… do you do it?” Frankie asked, her usually clear voice now laced with a hint of breathlessness, her cheeks a rosy pink. Her gaze was fixed on Cleo, eager to learn every single detail.

Draculaura, never one to miss an opportunity for dramatics, bounced in her seat. “Here, let me show you!” She quickly turned to another table and called out to a familiar figure. “Clawd! Come here, darling!” She fluttered her eyelashes in anticipation, already planning exactly how she was going to demonstrate the art of making out.

Moments later, Clawd lumbered over, a sheepish grin on his furry face. He settled in the empty space beside his girlfriend, his wolfish eyes curious. “What’s up, Drac?”

Draculaura turned back to Frankie, her fangs peeking out from between her lips. “Now, Frankie, watch closely and you’ll get this in NO TIME!” she declared, a mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes.

Without further ado, she grabbed Clawd by the collar of his leather jacket and pulled him into a passionate kiss. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, exploring and teasing, while Clawd’s tongue met hers in a dance of pure affection. Their hands moved almost instinctively, exploring each other’s bodies, their moans and sighs echoing through the Creepateria, drawing the attention of most of the other students who were present.

Frankie watched, mesmerized, her eyes wide with a mixture of fascination and awe. “Wow,” she muttered, her voice barely a whisper. “How exactly do you… make it happen like that? The kissing and the… you know…” She gestured vaguely, a blush creeping up her stitched neck.

Cleo leaned back, a self-satisfied smirk on her perfectly painted lips. “It’s just something you practice, sweetie,” she explained, her tone knowing. “The more you do it, the better you get. Also, the more you get to know them, the better it is too.”

Frankie considered this for a moment, her mismatched eyes darting back and forth as she processed the information. A slow smile spread across her face, her stitched-up lips curving in a way that was both innocent and promising. “Okay,” she declared with newfound confidence. “I think… I think I’ll give it a try.”

Meanwhile, at a far more tranquil lunch table, Jackson sat in solitude, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The day had been an endless parade of encounters with couples in various states of... indiscretion. Even the bathroom hadn't been a safe haven, not with the sounds of belt buckles falling to the floor and the loud moans of women echoing through the tiled walls.

He couldn't even find solace in study hall, not after witnessing Slo-Mo and Ghoulia locked in a passionate make out in the back of the class, or listening to the weird noises heath made after abbey had leaned down into his lap in the front. It seemed the entire school was in the cusp of some hormonal frenzy, and there was no escape.

Jackson tried to push the images from his mind and focus on his schoolwork, but concentration eluded him. His thoughts were consumed by one particular ghoul.

Frankie Stein.

It had been ages since she put things on hold with him and Holt, but he couldn't shake the feelings he still harbored for her. Ever since the gas incident on Friday, his mind was a fog of fantasies involving Frankie.

He imagined his face buried in her breast, motorboating her as her voice whispering sweet nothings in his ear. He pictured her astride him, their bodies moving in sync as they made out like hungry lions.

Jackson couldn't deny the physical response these thoughts elicited, no matter how hard he tried to suppress them.

A part of him wrestled with the idea of acting on these desires, while another part urged him on, screaming at him to give in to his lust. He wasn't sure how much longer he could resist.

As he tried to focus on his lunch and rein in his thoughts, an all-too-familiar voice pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Hey, nerd!"

Jackson’s head snapped up, his eyes darting first to the worn pages before finally settling on the reflection in the butter knife he was idly toying with.

There, grinning like a mischievous imp, stood Holt Hyde, his fiery hair practically crackling with energy.

"What do you want, Holt?" Jackson sighed, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his perpetual annoyance.

Holt's grin faltered, a flicker of something akin to genuine confusion crossing his features. "What's your problem, man? You're surrounded by all this action, and you’re just sitting here?" He gestured wildly around the cafeteria, where couples were locked in passionate embraces and small groups were engaged in raucous laughter.

Jackson groaned, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. "I don't want to get involved in… whatever this is." The sheer volume of the chaotic scene made his head spin.

Holt rolled his eyes, a signature move. "Dude, everyone's in here having the time of their lives, while you're over here, sitting on your ass, reading some boring book! Why don't you just pick a girl already and show her a good time?"

Jackson raised a skeptical eyebrow, a familiar wave of exasperation washing over him. "Easy for you to say, Holt. You’re not the one who has to deal with all the fallout. You get to swoop in and out before things get messy, while I'm left to clean up your mess!"

"Oh, relax. That was one time," Holt dismissed, his tone as breezy as a summer wind.

“No, it's been MULTIPLE times!!" Jackson countered, his voice escalating with each syllable. He could still remember the last incident, the awkward apologies, and the general mess he had to deal with when Holt forgot his own existence and left Jackson to pick up the pieces.

"Anyways," Holt said, completely unfazed by Jackson's outburst, casually shifting the topic like he shifted between the light and the dark. "When are we gonna make a move on Franken-fine? You know we've had a thing for her for a while."

"I don't have a thing for—"

"Don't even try to deny it!" Holt interrupted, his smirk widening into a full-blown grin. "You’re into her. And guess what? She’s into you, too. You’re just too chicken to do anything about it."

Jackson felt his cheeks burn with a heat that went beyond a simple blush. "That's not true!" But even as he said it, a small voice in the back of his mind whispered with a hint of truth.

"Whatever you say, man." Holt smirked, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But if you don't step up, someone else will. Guaranteed." 

Jackson shivered, a cold dread settling in his stomach. Though he wanted to brush off Holt’s words as nothing more than typical Hyde bravado, he knew there was a seed of truth in them. There were other guys at Monster High, plenty of guys, who had their eyes on Frankie. He’d seen them looking at her, lingering a little too long in her general direction.

It was only a matter of time before someone else made a move.

He could feel his internal struggle raging; one half of him urged him to bolt, to flee from this hormonal madness, to seek refuge in the library where the only sounds were the rustling of pages.

But the other half, the half that had been growing bolder by the day, thrummed with a need that mirrored Holt's:

a desire to be with Frankie.

“What’s up, Jackson!”

Jackson turned to see a group of familiar faces heading towards him; Deuce Gorgon, Heath Burns, Gil Webber, and Clawd Wolf all making their way to his corner. Clawd, sporting a series of bright red kiss marks on his face after his intensive make-out session with Draculaura, winked at Jackson.

"Not much, just tired," Jackson muttered, shoving his textbook away from him. He didn't bother to mask the exhaustion that settled deep into his bones, a weariness that had little to do with any schoolwork.

"What’s got you all down in the dumps?" Deuce asked, his smooth voice laced with genuine worry, and a slight tilt of his head. He sat down beside Jackson, a gesture of camaraderie that Jackson couldn't help but appreciate.

"Maybe he’s just sad that he’s here by himself, while everyone else is getting some action!" Heath snickered, his voice loud and obnoxious as always. He threw a suggestive look toward the opposite end of the hallway before his red eyes landed on Jackson. 

He poked Jackson's shoulder, a playful, albeit annoying, jab. Jackson's blush deepened, painting his face a vivid crimson.

“As if I wanna risk getting caught making out or having sex with someone by Bloodgood or one of the teachers!” Jackson snapped back at him, his frustration bubbling over.

Heath threw his hands up in the air in mock surrender. "Woah man, relax, I'm just trying to motivate, it's not every day you get to skip class to go screw someone's brains out."

“I agree,” Gil chimed in, his voice a low, melodic rumble that sent vibrations through the floor. "Me and Lagoona have basically spent the entire day getting wild. You’re telling me, after all those exams and studying, you wouldn’t want to spend some time with a girl to relax?" His eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, and a tiny smile played on his lips.

"SPEAKING of girls!" Heath said, a fascinated yet slightly disturbed expression on his face as he turned towards clawd. "So, how exactly does Draculaura... y'know," he began hesitantly, his question dancing on the edge of scandal. He paused, a glint of genuine curiosity warring with amused disbelief in his wide, fiery-red eyes. 

"Without... tearing your dick off!" he blurted out, the words erupting from him like a burst of surprised laughter.

Clawd's face flushed a deep, almost comical red, his hand going to rub distractedly at the back of his neck. He tried, and failed, to suppress his own grin. The other two boys erupted into a fit of laughter, a cacophony of snorts and chuckles, mixing in with noise of the creepateria. It was infectious, even jackson couldn't help but chuckle

Clawd finally managed to compose himself, shifting his weight as he tried to keep a straight face. "It's all about being gentle with it," he explained, a small smile playing on his lips. "Y'know how people say that oral sex is like eating an ice cream cone? Well, for me, it’s more like licking a melting popsicle." He punctuated the statement with a playful wink.

The boys were off again, their laughter even louder this time, earning them a few stares. As the sounds subsided, nods of comprehension replaced the mirth. For monsters, intimacy wasn't as straightforward as it was for humans. The very features that made them unique – claws, fangs, scales, and so on – could make things…complicated.

Human couples might need to navigate insecurities and the technicalities of the act itself.

But monster couples? 

They had to contend with the added challenge of physical differences that could literally cause bodily harm if not handled carefully. It was a reality they all understood, a silent acknowledgement that formed a foundation of trust in their relationships.

Heath, wanting to keep the scandalous conversation going, turned to Deuce, a mischievous grin splitting his face. “So, 'Deucey',” he drawled, his eyes sparkling with barely concealed amusement, “mind telling us what Cleo’s like…you know…in the bedroom?”

Deuce scoffed, feigning nonchalance, but a telltale flush was rising on his cheeks. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Oh, you know Cleo,” he began, voice low and conspiratorial, “Commanding, bosses you around…thinks she’s in control.” He paused for dramatic effect, a wicked grin taking over his features.

“But then,” he continued, dropping his voice lower, “she melts like fucking ice cream the moment you assert a little dominance.” His grin widened, a flash of white teeth contrasting against his tanned skin.

He then turned to Gil, his eyes sparkling with wicked delight. "What about you, Gil? How's Lagoona doing in the bedroom?" he asked, his voice dripping with teasing anticipation.

Gil chuckled, a low rumbling sound that made his gills flutter slightly. "She's a real wild one," he admitted, his eyes sparkling. "It's like riding a bucking bronco, but instead of a saddle, it’s your dick." He grinned, a flash of pointed teeth and a hint of playful pride.

The group of boys once again erupted into laughter, their shared amusement filling the locker room. It was unlike them to have such a frank discussion in such a public place, but the day felt off-kilter, even for Monster High. 

An undercurrent of sexuality and romantic tension seemed to have seeped into the school, making normal things seem irrelevant. Everyone seemed more concerned with the stirrings in their hearts and lower regions, than in homework or schoolyard squabbles. The air itself felt charged with a strange, almost palpable energy.

"Anyway, back to the main topic," Clawd said, his tone shifting as he turned his gaze toward Jackson with a sly grin. "So, when are you and Frankie gonna patch things up? I mean, come on—things are wild right now. Seems like the perfect moment to bring back the sparks and make it official again."

“I don’t know,” Jackson confessed, feeling a pang of uncertainty. “Ever since she hit pause on things, I don’t even know if she’s still interested in me, especially since she started hanging around other du-“

“BRO!” Heath shouted, grabbing Jackson by the shoulders, and forcing him to face him. “All of those ‘other boys’ have moved on from Frankie! Neighthan is with Dawndancer over there, and Andy got with Jane Boolittle, she’s all up for grabs and you're setting here like a deer in headlights!”

“I agree with Heath,” Deuce said, “With all the chaos happening, this is the perfect chance to score Frankie before someone else does and who knows, maybe she’ll give you some action.” Deuce added with a suggestive wiggle of his brows.

Despite the encouragement he was getting, Jackson still wasn’t convinced, his anxiety growing with each word. “What if I screw this up?” He asked, his gaze fixed on his hands.

“Only one way to find out,” Deuce said, pointing towards the table where Frankie was sitting with a few other ghouls.

Jackson sighed, the weight of his frustration and desire pressing down on him. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

"That's the spirit!!" Clawd exclaimed with a clap of his hands. "Now go get her."

With a deep breath, Jackson began making his way towards the table, his heart pounding in his chest, his resolve far from ironclad.

Back with frankie, she was now writing notes of everything cleo was telling her, from how to do the 69 position to how to do a hand job.

Cleo had been so impressed by how fast Frankie picked up everything she was saying that she decided to move onto more advanced stuff. 

Frankie was loving every second of this, she wanted to be prepared for when she would get intimate with someone, whether it be someone she meets in the future or someone she knows in the school.

She was practically salivating at the thought of kissing and making out with him, as well as doing all the other things cleo mentioned to her.

"Okay, so you're telling me that with this technique you can make any boy cum faster than he expected?" Frankie asked, looking up from her paper.

"Trust me sweetie, I've got this down to a science." Cleo said with a confident smirk. "Those boys are so easy, just give them a little of this and that and BAM! They're ready to blo-"

"Hey, Frankie?"

The lively chatter at the ghouls' table quieted as all eyes turned to Jackson, standing a few feet away. His face was flushed a deep crimson, his hands buried awkwardly in his pockets.

Frankie tilted her head, a friendly smile spreading across her face. "Oh, hey, Jackson! What’s up?"

The warmth in her voice made Jackson’s heart pound harder than he cared to admit. He shifted on his feet, suddenly hyper-aware of how many pairs of eyes were now trained on him.

"I, uh… I w-wanted to tell you something," he stammered, his words fumbling like marbles spilling out of his mouth.

"What is it?" Frankie asked, her curiosity piqued.

Jackson’s gaze flickered to the ghouls surrounding her—Abbey, Draculaura, Lagoona, Cleo, Ghoulia and Venus. Each of them wore varying expressions of excitement and encouragement, subtly gesturing for him to get to the point.

He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly feeling like sandpaper. "Okay, here goes..." he muttered under his breath. "I know we paused things a while ago—because of... well, Holt, and the fact that we didn’t know about each other at first. And I know him and I argued a lot back then, which wasn't fair to you, but..." He paused, drawing a deep breath. "I—I want to try again. With us. You know, like... start over."

Frankie’s electric-blue eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, what?" she asked, leaning in slightly, as if she hadn’t heard him right.

The ghouls around her sat up straighter, their anticipation building.

"Come on, Jackson," Draculaura thought, practically vibrating in her seat. "You’re so close!"

"Just spit it out already!" Clawdeen mentally cheered, her claws gripping the edge of the table.

"She’s right there!" Cleo’s inner voice urged, her regal posture not betraying the excitement she felt inside.

Jackson let out a shaky exhale, meeting Frankie’s gaze. Her expression wasn’t mocking or dismissive—it was open, inviting, and maybe even hopeful. That gave him just enough courage to keep going.

"Frankie," he said, his voice stronger this time. "I lo—"

Before Jackson could finish his confession, the entire hallway was pierced by a shrill, deafening shriek.

Everyone froze, their heads snapping toward the source of the noise.

Headmistress Bloodgood stood at the entrance of the Creepateria, her face twisted in an expression of pure fury, her eyes blazing like twin infernos. She looked more terrifying than any monster they’d ever faced in the past, and that was saying something.

"WHY ARE YOU ALL STILL IN HERE?!" she bellowed, her voice echoing off the walls like thunder. "LUNCH ENDED AN HOUR AGO! YOU SHOULD ALL BE IN THIRD PERIOD!!"

"The bell never rang!" someone in the back shouted defensively.

Bloodgood's glare swept over the crowd like a storm. "HALF OF YOU HAVE BEEN HERE FOR SIX YEARS! YOU SHOULD KNOW WHAT TIME CLASS STARTS!! AND WHY ARE THERE SO MANY OF YOU ALREADY MAKING OUT?! THIS IS NOT A LOVE HOTEL!" Her eyes darted to the couples scattered throughout the room, locked in various stages of romantic entanglement. "YOU’VE BEEN IN THIS SCHOOL FOR LONG ENOUGH, BUT YOU ALL ACT LIKE A BUNCH OF FIRST GRADERS!"

The students murmured amongst themselves, some blushing, others rolling their eyes.

Bloodgood pointed a commanding finger toward the entrance. "NOW, ALL OF YOU, HEAD TO YOUR NEXT CLASS IMMEDIATELY! GO!"

Groans of protest rippled through the crowd as everyone began to gather their belongings. The reluctant shuffle of chairs and dragging footsteps filled the room as students made their way toward the exit.

Just as the crowd began to thin, Bloodgood's eyes zeroed in on Frankie Stein.

With swift, deliberate steps, she closed the distance and grabbed Frankie firmly by the arm.

"As for YOU, Ms. Stein," Bloodgood said sternly, "You’ll be coming with me to my office. You don’t need to be involved in this madness!"

"But I—"

"NO BUTS!" Bloodgood snapped, cutting her off as she began pulling her toward the exit. "You’re staying under my supervision for the rest of the day!"

Frankie’s expression flickered between confusion and frustration as she glanced back at her friends. The ghouls and Jackson watched in dismay as she disappeared down the hallway, Bloodgood’s towering figure looming over her.

"Great timing," Jackson muttered under his breath, his shoulders slumping as the opportunity to confess slipped away yet again.

"You were SO CLOSE!" Draculaura exclaimed, slapping a hand over her mouth to stifle a groan.

"That lady has no chill," Venus said, crossing her arms. "First she acts like a naggy bitch and now she’s snatching people up like a total buzzkill!"

"Welp, there goes my chance," Jackson sighed, gathering his books with a defeated look. "Guess it just wasn’t meant to be."

As jackson began to walk away, he felt a hand gently grab his shoulder.

"Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Jackson," Cleo said, her confident smirk sparkled like the jewels adorning her. "I’ll fix this in no time."

Jackson raised an eyebrow, dubious. "What do you mean by that?"

Cleo’s smirk widened, her confidence bordering on regal. "Just trust me. Stay after school today, and I promise you, by the end of the night, you and Frankie will be in each other’s arms!!!!"

Her tone was so self-assured that Jackson found himself nodding despite his skepticism. "Alright, I guess..."

With that, Jackson and the boys filed out of the Creepateria, leaving Cleo and the ghouls behind.

Abbey raised an icy eyebrow as she crossed her arms. "What exactly you have planned, Cleo?"

Cleo’s smirk turned devious as she flicked her hair over her shoulder. "Oh, nothing too elaborate," she said, her voice dripping with mischief. "Just something that a lot of ghouls will benefit from."

Abbey narrowed her eyes, watching Cleo with a mixture of suspicion and intrigue.

Whatever Cleo de Nile was scheming,

It was bound to shake things up.

Meanwhile, in Bloodgood's office, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. 

Bloodgood stood behind her desk, her arms crossed and her expression a blend of frustration and concern. Across from her sat Frankie, her normally energetic demeanor muted by the awkwardness of the situation. Bloodgood had been lecturing her for what felt like an eternity, trying to drill some sense into her.

"You shouldn’t want to know about things like sex!" Bloodgood exclaimed, her tone sharp as she slammed her fist against the desk for emphasis. The sound echoed through the room, startling Frankie. "You should be focusing on your studies—geometry, history, the sciences. These are the things that will shape your future, not... not making out with someone!"

"But it sounds so fun!" Frankie whined, shifting in her seat and crossing her legs with a pout. Her electric-blue eyes sparkled with innocent curiosity, but her tone had the petulance of a child being denied a toy. "All the ghouls say they love doing it with their boyfriends! They make it sound so... exciting!"

Bloodgood pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling deeply as she tried to reignite her patience. She crouched slightly, bringing herself to Frankie’s eye level. "That’s because their minds are too far gone," she said, her tone softening as she attempted to reason with the young ghoul. "You’re different, Frankie. You’re better than this. Somewhere deep inside, the brilliant, curious girl I know is still there. I will not lose you to this... degeneracy."

Frankie blinked at her, momentarily stunned by the sincerity in Bloodgood’s voice. For a brief moment, her expression faltered, as if a part of her was wrestling with what Bloodgood was saying.

"You’re one of the brightest students at Monster High," Bloodgood continued, her tone more impassioned now. "You have the potential to help bridge the gap between humans and monsters, to change how the world views us. I know it feels unfair now, but trust me, Frankie—one day you’ll look back on this and understand. You’ll thank me for it."

Frankie’s lips parted as if to respond, but she hesitated. Her mind felt like it was being pulled in two directions. Bloodgood’s words were logical and grounded, but the allure of what her friends had described—the passion, the thrill—was difficult to ignore. She wanted to believe in the path Bloodgood was laying out for her, but the other side of her whispered temptations that seemed just as compelling.

Seeing the conflict in Frankie’s eyes, Bloodgood straightened, feeling a glimmer of hope that her words were starting to break through. She glanced at the clock and sighed, brushing imaginary dust off her blazer.

"I need to meet with someone," she said, her voice steady but firm as she walked toward the door. She turned back to give Frankie one last look, her expression softening with maternal concern. "Stay here until the bell rings. When it does, I want you to go straight home—no delays, no exceptions. Do you understand?"

Frankie nodded slowly, though her conflicted expression remained.

Satisfied for the moment, Bloodgood opened the door and stepped out, leaving Frankie alone in the quiet office. The door clicked shut, and the silence pressed down on her like a weight. Frankie leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling, her mind swimming with thoughts.

"Am I really doing something wrong?" she murmured to herself, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers toyed with the hem of her skirt as she wrestled with the clashing parts of her psyche. Somewhere deep inside, she felt the spark of her old self trying to reignite, but the pull of her newfound desires was just as strong.

For now, all she could do was sit and wait, caught in the storm of her own thoughts.

Hackington, bless his stitched-up heart, looked like he’d been dragged through the Shadow Realm and back. Literally. 

Since the fateful Friday, when his "small, totally controlled" gas experiment had gone kablooey, he'd been a mad scientist possessed. The bags under his eyes were less like luggage and more like extra limbs, his hair was a tangled, static-charged mess, and rumor had it that he hadn't seen a shower, a comb, or even a measly protein bar since the incident. 

But He couldn't care less. He was on a mission, driven by a cocktail of guilt and sheer terror. 

If he didn't find a cure for his accidental aphrodisiac leak, not only would every teacher lose their jobs, the students would lose their sanctuary, but his own name would be forever etched in the annals of Monster High history as the purveyor of... well, this.

He was hunched over his lab table, eyes narrowed in concentration as he carefully extracted a specific compound from a swirling, luminescent solution. 

Suddenly, a sharp knock reverberated through his lab, an unwelcome interruption in his frantic rhythm.

“Come in!,” Hackington boomed, his voice raspy from disuse.

The door creaked open, revealing Headmistress Bloodgood, her features tight with an expression that could curdle milk. 

"Any updates, Hackington?" she said, her voice a low growl, the tone of a weary beast on its last nerve.

“Not much, Headmistress,” he mumbled, his eyes glued to the test tube. “It's only been three days, and all I’ve managed is to do isolate the main compound. It’s… much more potent than the usual stuff. This isn't your run-of-the-mill aphrodisiac, it is... intense.”

“I need you to speed it up!” Bloodgood practically barked, her patience clearly wearing thin. “Three days?! You realize it’s only been one day of this chaos, and the incidents are escalating at an alarming rate!”

“I understand, but I-"

"Understand? We’ve already caught several couples having sex all over the school!” Bloodgood's voice rose to a near shriek. "Lagoona and Gil were at it in the pool room! Spectra was giving Porter a very enthusiastic handjob in the theater room! Abbey was giving Heath a blow job, like they were in a pornset and not a high school! And Slo-mo and Ghoulia… well, they were caught making out in study hall, and when a teacher tried to stop it, Slo-mo hurled them across the room!”

Hackington winced, a wave of secondhand embarrassment washing over him.

Bloodgood's face was now a disturbing shade of green. “And that isn’t even the worst of it! We've got reports of truant students, girls performing 'favors' in the bathrooms, and students using every hidden corner of the building to… well.... you get the point!!” She shuddered, the mental image clearly haunting her.

“Okay, I get that’s bad, but—”

“I LITERALLY WALKED IN ON MEOWLODY AND PURRSEPHONE STRIP-TEASING ROMULUS!” Bloodgood bellowed, her voice cracking with the sheer absurdity of it all. “Does ANY of that sound like normal behavior? To y-”

“ALRIGHT!” Hackington roared back, slamming his fist on the table, making his beakers rattle precariously. “I get it! The students are in the throes of some hormonal madness, having sex at every possible opportunity. I understand! And I am working as fast as I can, but this isn’t a flick of a switch, Headmistress! I’m a scientist, not some gothic fairy godmother who grants magical cures on a whim!”

Bloodgood deflated, a sigh escaping her lips. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, her weary eyes settling on the disheveled scientist. "I’m sorry, it's just…," She paused, the anger replaced by raw worry. "With the council coming to review the school, we’re in serious trouble, Hackington. Things have gone from bad to cataclysmic, and I'm terrified for everyone's futures."

"I understand. I feel your frustration," Hackington said, his own voice softening, a rare flash of empathy gracing his features. "But you need to give me time. Biological disasters like this aren't fixed overnight.”

“I understand,” Bloodgood repeated, the fight gone out of her, her shoulders slumping. “Continue making the cure. I’ll check on your progress later.”

“Thank you, Headmistress,” Hackington responded, turning back to his bubbling vials with renewed fervor.

With a final, weary exhale, Bloodgood left the lab. As she stepped into the hallway, the final school bell rang, its peal discordant and mocking, signaling the end of the day's classes.

She let out a quiet sigh, a single, haunted whisper escaping her lips: “These next few weeks are gonna be a hell in a hand basket.”

To be continued...