#( or message you sometime tomorrow to plot something c: )

[etherealino]

mixtape: on track – scb

synopsis: “i can’t let you go, how can i ever let you go?” 

genre: idolverse!au, post breakup!au, radio dj!reader, angst, fluff uwu

warning(s): one curse word. changbin went ooc, oops.

word count: 3423

a/n: i had this plot since forever and when mixtape: on track was released, i realized it fit changbin so well. djbdjsdj,,,,,, hope this doesn’t suck :]

“First song of tonight, my people, Song Request by Lee So Ra, featuring BTS’ Suga. Just send in your requests, problems or if you just wanna say hi, just mention me, @/sleeplessy/n.” You said through the microphone and you lowered the volume of the microphone, muting it as the song played through the whole station—in every radio, that is.

Every night, all you did was talk about everything that comes into your mind—you’re good at it, actually. Plus, to everyone seeking advice comes to you, one of the reasons why you can’t lose topics to talk about. That was your job. From 11 pm to 3 am, for four hours that’s what you do.

This was your job ever since you broke up with your boyfriend of 2 years. Your boyfriend was none other than Seo Changbin of Stray Kids. You two were so happy, you were sure of it. Changbin was making you happy, you were making him happy. You knew you two were drifting apart when fights became a sudden routine every night, shouting until voices get hoarse. Then just this one night, Changbin came home, he picked a fight with you probably due to how stressed he is and he took it out on you. You two were on each other’s throats once more, when suddenly you shouted, “You know what? Let’s just break up. It’s best for the both of us.” You know you should’ve took it back when you saw Changbin’s expression fall, but then he glared at you again, but you still saw the tears pooling in his eyes, even though he shouted back, “Fine! I’ll pick my stuff up tomorrow.” Then, just like that, he left.

And ever since then, you can’t sleep properly. So you thought, it would be nice to look for a job instead of stressing over on how to sleep. And here you are, Sleepless Night with Y/N from 11 pm to 3 am—you became everyone’s favorite DJ in just a snap of a finger, it’s crazy when you think about it. You always loved the idea of being a radio DJ, if you were being honest. It’s been two months since you and Changbin broke up, and ever since then, you never listened to Stray Kids anymore, knowing you would just end up going to YouTube and binge his videos and fancams all day long—then cry.

You heard that Stray Kids have been having soft concepts lately, different from their usual concepts, and sometimes—a lot of times—Stray Kids’ songs were everyone’s requests, but you pretended not to see. Stray Kids would always have a guesting in your station, and you knowing the schedule would not go to the time allotted for them to avoid seeing Changbin. It’s been two months, but you were still undeniably hung up on Changbin. Everyone could see right through you.

“Once again, people, that was Song Request by Lee So Ra, featuring BTS’ Suga. How have you guys been? Still can’t sleep according to your tweets.” You said as you let out a small chuckle. You scrolled through the computer in front of you, looking at the tweets that were sent in as you talked about nonsense. “Shout out to some users that says they want to be in a relationship asap. Take your time, my people, savor it while it lasts instead of rushing, hm?”

Truth be told, you were looking for a certain user. This user would always say hi, giving you an update on what happened in their day. It would always end with, “How was your day? :)”. They would always tweet something that cheers you up. They would just randomly tweet you heart memes, even at daytime. Weird enough, even though you followed this user, they never sent you a dm. There was this weird feeling at the pit of your stomach that wants you to send them a message, but you also didn’t want to. So, you let it be. 

Weird enough, they never sent anything today. You frowned, going to their profile, refreshing the page but nothing. It’s crazy when you think about it, missing someone you never met at all. But there was just something about this user that gravitates you towards them.

 You didn’t even notice at all until your phone silently went off, vibrating, serving as a signal that it was already 2:30 in the morning. You have 30 minutes to wrap up the show. You always have that alarm or else, you will get carried away and you don’t want to ruin the schedule. “Time check, it’s now 2:30 in the morning, my people, send in your problems and I will try my best to give you the best advice I can.” You announced. Your Twitter blew up and you scrolled and scrolled. You went back up, refreshing your notifications. And finally, your favorite user has sent you a tweet. But it was different from their usual tweets. “From user sleeplesscb,” you announced. It was honestly unusual, they never send in a problem to ask for an advice, so you were kind of worried for them. “Hi, DJ Y/N, I used to have a girlfriend, she really means a lot to me. It’s been awhile since we broke up but I can’t seem to let her go. I really wish I could turn back time to take everything back so we would still be together.” You read. You sighed, biting your lip. “Well, user, if you really do love her, let her know. If you’re lucky, she might feel the same way as you. Tell her how you feel, make her feel loved and do everything you think you should do before you regret it.”

What if this is Changbin and he wants to—

 You pushed the thought away, shaking your head as you bit your lip. It couldn’t be Changbin—it’s impossible. Changbin’s too busy for stuff like this. More importantly, Changbin would never feel that way. You just have to accept that your once shared love with Changbin is just now one-sided.

 “If you end up really doing what I just said and doesn’t end good, you can hunt me and shoot me down.” You chuckled as you refreshed the page once more and you saw that the user sent another tweet saying, “Can you play Mixtape: On Track by Stray Kids? Heard that the group’s rapper, Changbin wrote it and it’s how I feel.” You bit your lip. Are you ready? You inwardly sigh, giving yourself a nod. Just this once, for them. “Since it was your problem that I gave advice, I suppose I can grant your request.” You announced, searching the song to play it. You took a deep breath before announcing, “Here’s Mixtape: On Track by Stray Kids.” 

Even a fool knows this, you’re the best thing I’ve got.

Just that line. That single line was enough to make tears pool in your eyes. Changbin’s voice went through the whole station and you muted the microphone again to prevent any noises to be heard—your sniffles, to be specific. You listened to the whole song. Just like what you expected, Stray Kids are still great—greater, even. But the fact that Changbin wrote this song made your heart flutter. He probably wrote it after your breakup, but you refused to listen. Funny how the universe just finds way to make you do what you’re supposed to, even if you’re against it. Did he actually write this for you or he just got an inspiration out of it? You don’t know, but it feels nice to hear the boys again—Changbin, especially.

 You feel like jumping and throwing the things around you when Changbin’s part, “I can’t let you go.” came. You wanted to scream. You felt that. Changbin put so much emotion into this song, more tears streamed down your face and you sighed. Then it was followed by Felix repeating it. Then another line from Changbin, “How can I ever let you go?”

“Yeah, how could you?” You whispered as you aggressively wiping your cheeks as if you were actually talking to Changbin. By the last line, it was Changbin again, he changed the first line to “I know it because I’m a fool and can’t live without you.”

You really wished he really did write it for you. You wanted him back more than anything. How could you be so stupid to yell those words that led to your breakup?

When the song was finally done, you finally turned the microphone on.  “And that’s it for today’s show everyone. I feel like I was a little bit boring today, it was tiring today after all. I promise to make it up to you tomorrow!” You said through the microphone and to your surprise you actually sound stable as if you weren’t a crying mess just before. “Time check, 2:55 in the morning, may you finally sleep in peace after a whole night of soft love songs. Tune in again tomorrow—or later tonight, rather for more advices, blabbering about whatnots, and songs to play for your situations as cheesy as that sounds. This is DJ Y/N, signing off, leaving you with Day6’s I Smile. Good night, everybody.”

And just as you said, she played Day6’s I Smile and queued more songs that are enough until the next program which would be at 8 am. You turned the microphone off, removing the headphones off your head as you neatly placed it to where it belongs. You went out of the studio room, the radio producer smiling at you. You closed the door behind as you went to pick your bag and coat. “I’ll see you tonight.” You said to her and she smiles.

“You did great today, just like always.” She said with a smile and you bowed, thanking her for the compliment. “Stay safe, take care driving.”

“Yes, stay safe, too.” You said as you waved bye to her. You exited the building of your radio station, going to the parking lot, ready to go home. You climbed in, starting the engine on as you decided to listen to the songs you’ve queued. The drive home was peaceful. City lights and soft music as you drive at the middle of the night; just your aesthetic, this was what you used to do with Changbin. Yes, Changbin was still at the back your head. You really wanted to know if it was for you. But other than that, you wanted to know how is he doing. Did he go through the same as you did? Was he better now? How is he? Did he find another person to finally replace you?

As you arrived home, a soft sigh escapes your lips. Why were you thinking about Changbin again? Oh, because that’s what you always think of every night. Can he sleep peacefully every night unlike you? Can he move around without thinking about you? Does he listen to your program every night?

Anyway, you got off your car with your coat and bag as you arrived in front of your house. Head down as you fiddled with your keys, walking up to your doorstep. You sigh. You were tired, but you were not sleepy. You have this tendency to be a bit clumsy when tired. So, as you were walking to your doorstep, you dropped your keys. You sigh loudly, bending down, sitting on the back of your legs to pick it up.

But someone has beat you to it.

You looked at the shoes in front of you, freezing. His scent finally filled your nostrils, his hand that was holding your keys out for you, the oversized black hoodie. You’d know those anywhere, everywhere. You bit your lip, looking up at the person to confirm if it really was him. And it was. You don’t need any confirmation to know it was him. Just his scent alone was enough to prove that it was him.

You shakily grabbed your keys, standing up as you look into his eyes.

Was it really him? Or did everything got into your head that it led you into imagining things?

He breathed out as if he was nervous, then he spoke, stuttering, “H-Hi.”

It really is him. It’s Changbin. 

“What are you doing here?” You mumbled, not being able to properly process what’s happening. Why is he here? Is he here to get the shirt he forgot to take with him? Psh.

Changbin clears his throat, looking at the ground then up to you. “The DJ in the radio said, I..” Changbin trails off as he tries to find the right words. “I should tell you how I really feel about you, and.. I..” Changbin trails off once more, being really nervous as he avoids your eyes.

Woah, wait. 

Your eyes widen as you look at Changbin. “That user was you?” 

Changbin looks up, nodding as he says nothing. You bit your lip, but a soft chuckle escapes your lips. That’s why you keep on gravitating towards the user. Seriously, how does the universe does that? You looked at Changbin who was looking down as he breathed out, trying to find the courage to speak up to you.

“Fuck it.” Changbin whispers to himself then turns to look in your eyes. Then he started to speak, “Firstly, I’m sorry for taking all the stress out to you every night when we were still together. It was really shitty of me to do that. I’m sorry I wasted the chance you gave me. I’m sorry for taking you for granted. I’m sorry for failing your expectations on me. I’m sorry I never became the man who you wanted. I’m just.. sorry for being shitty at showing you how much you mean to me. You should have someone who would love you the way the universe wants you to be loved—the way you deserve.

“I’m in a very big risk right now—we are in a big risk right now. Anyone could be somewhere here, take pictures of us and expose us, but I don’t care. But if ever we get into trouble because of it, I will protect you even if I’m at risk. I just want to let you know what I’ve been hiding for the past two months. It was eating me up. I was just happy on making you smile through the memes I send, through the little messages I sent, but I craved for more, Y/N. I want you back.

“I was in love with you. We were happy but we suddenly drifted apart because of me and my stupid pride. I knew better than that, but still I picked a fight with you almost every night when all you did was try to calm my nerves. I shouldn’t have let it get that far for you to yell those words. Up until now, Y/N, I’m still in love with you. You’re always here. You’re a part of me, Y/N. Every minute of every hour, you’re all that I think about. It bothers me to think that what if you already found someone else. Every time you giggle through the radio because of my messages, I regret my actions of letting you go just like that even more. I love you, Y/N. I still do.”

Changbin finishes with nervousness swimming in his eyes as he looked at you, but you only blankly stared at him. He knows that look. You’re not interested anymore, he thinks, but he was so wrong. He’s the only thing you wanted, nothing else.

“Before anything else, I know you haven’t been listening to our songs, considering you never played any of our songs despite a lot has requested and it’s impossible for you not to see it. But what I’m trying to say is, the song I requested was written for you.” Changbin says as he nods as if he was approving into his words, thinking he said the right words. He looks at you, who still blankly looked at him. “You.. can hit me now.”

“I can’t believe it was you.” You mumbled as you looked down, then to your side—everywhere but Changbin. Changbin chuckles nervously.

“I thought you were going to find out since I put my initials at the end.” Changbin said. Right. The ‘scb’ in the end. You were a bit oblivious to things. Okay, you just didn’t want to get your hopes high.

“How’d you know I have a radio program every night?” You asked as you look at him.

Changbin shrugs, looking at the ground. “Stress was getting into me, so I went out to get a bit of fresh air. Drove into the city in the middle of the night, around 1 in the morning, just like we used to. I turned the radio on and then I Loved You by Day6 was playing. I decided to stay on that station for a bit because it was one of your favorites. And then, I heard your voice.” Changbin explains. He looks at you, biting his lower lip, then he softly adds. “You know I know your voice anywhere—everywhere.”

You lick your lips, looking at the side. You shake your head lightly as you feel tears pool in your eyes. “I hate you.” You mumbled, just as the tears have cascaded down your face. Changbin looks at you, lowering his head as if he was ashamed.

“I know.” Changbin mumbles back.

“I hate you for making me love you so much. Why is it so much easier to love you than hating you? Up until now, it still feels like the first day when we broke up.” You said, wiping your tears off. Changbin holds himself from reaching out to pull you in his arms.

“I’m sorry for hurting you.” Changbin apologizes and he looks into your eyes. “I’d do anything for you to forgive me, I really will.”

You cock your head to the side lightly, raising an eyebrow. “Anything?” You repeated, asking with emphasis. Changbin nods as he looks at the ground, not being able to say anything knowing where would this lead to. He can seriously imagine you saying ‘Never show up to me ever again.’ He was so scared, but if it would make you happy, he’ll do it. 

“Stay with me.”

Changbin’s head snaps up, eyes looking into your tear-filled ones. Stay with you? Didn’t you hate him? “Objections? Hey, let me tell you, I got this job because I didn’t want to dwell into stressing myself because I can’t sleep. So I said, why make a job out of it. You know why I can’t sleep?” You said and Changbin shakes his head. “Because I can only properly sleep with you beside me. You owe me two months of peaceful sleep!” You pouted as you told Changbin these things. Changbin couldn’t help but chuckle, smiling at how you suddenly turned cute. “Stay with me, Changbin. Please.”

Changbin cautiously takes a step, and when you don’t take a step back, he takes this a sign that he can pull you in his arms for a hug. So, he did. Changbin wrap his arms around your shoulders as you wrap your own around his torso. You laugh lightly through your sniffles, finally feeling complete after two months. Changbin kisses your temple, keeping his lips there as you tighten your grip on him. 

“Every night, if you want.” Changbin mumbles.

After two months, you finally slept properly and peacefully again. When you woke up, Changbin was already awake, playing with your hair with a wide smile on his face, giving you a kiss on your nose, forehead, cheeks and finally on your lips. You two were back and you were sure that you two are stronger this time. The universe really does have a funny way to make things right again. And as you are working, talking about the most random things, your eyes shift outside the studio where the waiting room is, you see Changbin watching you with a smile on his face. He gives you a wink, lightly raising his fist, mouthing, “Fighting! I love you.”

“A great person just told me that you deserve to be loved the way the universe wants you to be, so don’t rush into anything, the right person is just there.” You said through the microphone with a wide smile.

You mouthed back, “I love you, too.”

sksks when changbin sang that did you feel that? i cant relate and i felt that.

[closer-stars]

Good Thing - Mingi (1)

Member: Mingi Genre: A lil of drama, tension, fluff, maybe angst depending on how you look at it. Requested: Yes Word count: 8k  Content: Dance team leader y/n. Basketball captain Mingi. Both of them are stubborn. Enemies to Lovers. Mentions of food. Mentions of near fainting. Mentions of tension. Academics. Slowburn.  Notes: after a long creative block, I’m back once again with long fics. Divided this into two? three? parts. This was supposed to be short, what the fuck. Anyways, I hope this fits your expectations, anon! Please I didn’t expect this to be so long, but here we are. I was already itching to post something after so long so here we are. 

[ Mountain ] Capt, the venue’s already taken. :(((

That wasn’t a good sign. You were in class when you received that message from your best friend. It was a good thing your professor allowed gadgets as long as it was used for note taking. In true student fashion, you lower your brightness just a bit as you switch tabs to reply to San. 

[ You ] Look for the next best. I trust your decision. I can’t stay too long, prof might catch me not paying attention.

You close the tab quickly and catch up on what your professor discusses. Fingers fly across your keyboard as you continue to add additional connections and theories that aid in the discussion. Your best friend and your second co-captain, Wooyoung, was slightly struggling with keeping up with the note keeping, you were already sure that he would ask you for help. 

[ Mountain ] Don’t kill me, Please. :c 

That didn’t sound good. 

[ Mountain ] 6-9pm. Court 2. 

That is definitely not good. Before you could reply, the bell rings and a chorus of laptops closing, notebooks closing could be heard in the room. Your professor quickly reminds the class of an exam the following week along with other reminders that just fly through your ears. 

“Did you catch what he said about brand identity?” Wooyoung asks as the two of you leave the classroom with heavy feet. Your coach had thought it was a good idea to have all of you go through house drills for the first half of the training last night. Fast forward to today, you and Wooyoung were struggling with walking. Even with just simple walking, Wooyoung would make pained whines. 

“I got them. I’ll send you my notes when we get a seat somewhere. I want my coffee while I massage your old muscles.” The both of you found a good shady spot where you could discuss what to do in tonight’s training session as your coach had personal issues to deal with. “Can you message the team where our training’s going to be tonight? San said it’s at Court 2, 6 to 9 PM”

“Heh, six to nine and okay.”

“How mature of you. I’ll be back.” You (try to) jog to the vending machine as you get yourself a quick dose of caffeine. By the time you get back, taking small sips of the caffeinated bean water, Wooyoung stares at you as if he had realized something. “What?” You ask as you settle down next to him. 

“Court 2? That’s the only available one left for tomorrow?” He asks. 

You shrug. “It’s either we get free venues or we pay a meal’s worth for studio rentals.” You reason as you send your notes to the male. As a student-dancer, you knew how hard it was to get studios and have it come straight from your own pocket. The competition was three months away and you didn’t want the team’s finances to run dry this early. 

“Can you at least try not to bite off Mingi’s head?” Wooyoung pleads, almost pouting. 

Song Mingi is the team captain for your university’s basketball team. That said, he’s also often the face of the school due to his grades and being captain of the team. He also often got in your nerves whenever you cross roads. You’re also fairly popular in and out of school: captain of the dance team, often competing in outside school competitions, and even being featured in some big time gigs. The gigs paid the most for your bills. 

You pat your lap so that he stretches his legs from the muscle pain. Careful fingers press on his muscles, causing him to yelp in pain. “Breathe, you baby. I’ll try my best.” You snort, clearly entertained by how low his pain tolerance can be outside dancing. “Tell San we’re in the usual spot if he wants to--”

“Ello!!”

Speak of the devil and he will appear. Your co-captain and best friend as well has appeared a few feet away. “Captain!” He calls out, once he could see your face. Him noticing Wooyoung first then you wasn’t a surprise anymore. These two often plot pranks on you during down time since your second year in the team, this was old news to you by now. “Captain, I’m really sorry. Court 2 was the only one available. The other team already got our first choice and-” he goes off, rapidly defending himself. 

“San, it’s okay. I know how annoying that team is. Let’s just do our best tonight so we can take over the studio for finals okay?” You shake your head, understanding the issue. The dance competition had your own team versus other dance teams inside and outside the university. It was a big event that tickets to watch were always sold out. 

“Please. I don’t think I can handle you snarking Mingi off when he tries to drop by.” San mumbles. 

The thing is, Mingi and you had a handful of common friends. The expectation of his course, Business Administration, being more difficult than yours, a Media Arts student. His tendency to be just as stubborn and strict as you are in your respective fields made it hard for both of you to see eye to eye. 

“I don’t think I’m ready to see their bitch face anywhere outside the stage.” Wooyoung mentions lightly. It was an obvious fear though. The amount of auditionees for your team each year was pretty hefty, the reason? Your friends had pretty faces. To put it simply, your resting bitch face is scary even if unintentional but an intentional one had a lot of people staying clear of you. To whom do you give the intentional one? Shallow auditionees and Song Mingi.

By the time you’ve eased the knots on Wooyoung’s leg, you’ve finished your coffee. “Guys, I promise I won’t fight him tonight.” You say with a sigh. 

San just looks at you with a raised eyebrow. 

You pout at him. “I promise! Besides tonight’s cleaning and drills. If I get distracted by that demon, give me the spiderman reps.” Wooyoung places his other leg on your lap, a cheeky grin on his features. A look of empty annoyance shoots from your eyes at him but you still do as he needs. Your two best friends give in with groans. It’s next to impossible to reason with you sometimes. It’s also your stubbornness that brought the team to the current greatness it had. 

“Three sets of spiderman reps. After training.” 

The bell rings, signaling your next class which was quite unfortunately, with the two of them still. San rises from his seat, your bag and laptop already in his hands as he waits for the both of you. 

“Last class for the day.” He states as you take your belongings from him. 

It’s going to be a long day for the three of you. 

“Five minute break” The entire team’s breathless from the drills. Some of them walked off the burn, others drinking water, others opted to lie on the cool tiled floor. You were part of the first group. You bend your back a little to get rid of the soreness that was starting to wear on you. The burn on your arms and shoulders is already a familiar feeling to you but you still hate it. At least it means your body was getting stronger, if the burn only started to set in now. When you reach for your water bottle, you realize that it was already empty. “Fuck..” You groan as you look for a water refilling station. 

The nearest one was near the basketball team’s court. 

Whatever. 

You make your way to the station, making sure that you would go unnoticed by the basketball team as they did their drills. So far, so good. No one paid attention to you as you fill your bottle up with water. That was until Jeong Yunho had noticed you. 

“Hey! Are you training here too?” His warmth made it hard for you to despise him even if he was best friends with Mingi. Why couldn’t he be the captain instead?

Eyes shoot up and you’re greeted by his pink hair. You wave at him quickly then take a sip of water. “Hey Yunho! Yeah, Is the music too loud?” 

He shakes his head, a few strands of hair covering his view. He pushes it back and it was there when you realize just why he had a large following. “Don’t worry about it. The guys appreciate a little music every now and then.” A sigh of relief slips through your lips. At least the volume isn’t too destructive for everyone. Why wasn’t he the captain instead?

“I have to go now. Good luck with your practice!” You bid goodbye quickly, your Mingi radar was going off.

Yes, you had a Mingi radar in your head. 

When you turn on your heel, you are greeted by his stoic features. Even without words, the tension was pretty thick in the air. “Anyways,” you mumble onto your bottle as you try to walk past him. 

“If you’re going to train in here too, being conscious of your noise would be helpful.” Mingi’s voice drips with deep annoyance towards you. You on the other hand, are trying your best not to do spiderman push ups so you just hum in response. 

“When I talk to you, you speak.” He says, rubbing his temple in annoyance. It was moments like this that genuinely make you wonder how he is the face of the school when his attitude was absolute horse shit. 

“Noted with thanks, Song Mingi.” You say simply. Yunho looks at the both of you in mild alarm. He was aware of your less than stellar relationship with his captain but he never saw how bad it was until today. Is it easy to keep your face from shooting lasers at the tall male? No but you were going to do your best. The two of you exchange steely gazes until both of you look away, stalking back to where your team was. 

“What took you so long?” Wooyoung asks as he watches the rest of the team clean the choreography, with San leading at the back. 

“Mingi tried to stall me.” You explain under your breath as you take your spot next to Wooyoung as your eyes keep an eye on their movements. With those who have been accepted, you weren’t as intimidating as you make yourself to be. You wouldn’t admit it openly, you viewed them as your family. You weren’t strict all the time, knowing when to have an iron fist and when to relax. Thoughts were drifting elsewhere that you found yourself gnawing mindlessly on your own water bottle as you watched everyone go through the choreography. Two blinks and you’re focused again. To the untrained eye, it already looked pretty good but to the three of you, you knew it could be better. The team holds the last post for a few counts before doubling over for air. “Catch your breath first then from the top. Seventy five percent energy but I want you guys to focus on your angles and extensions.” You state, much to the relief of some. 

“Does this mean you’re going to have to do spiderman reps?” Wooyoung asks, trying his best to not show his excited smile at seeing you struggle. Little shit. 

“If you’re looking forward to it so much, do it instead.” You shoot back with a smirk. You direct him to join the team in dancing with a quick jerk of your head to their direction. “Join the run. I want to see how you’ve been doing as well.” You stand up. “San! Join the team in the run. I want to see how the two do as well.” 

That’s how the rest of the night goes: repeated countings, claps, and feet stomping to the beat, with the occasional cheering from members to keep the energy up. Before you let everyone go for the day, you asked for one more run of the piece to record. The only issue now is who to ask to hold your phone because all possible places for your phone were either too low or too dangerously high to be on its own. 

You spot Yunho coming out of the basketball court with his bags. His training must have ended. “Jeong Yunho!” Your voice manages to surprise everyone with the volume. Who knew you could bellow at such strength? The tall male’s startled by your voice and walks over to you.

“I didn’t know you could yell that loud. Do you need help with something?” He notes bemused at such a feat. 

“Training can do that. Can you record our run for us, please?” You raise your phone up, hoping he says yes. Everyone’s tired and so are you. His hand is outstretched and it makes you sigh in relief. “You’re the best.” You say. “Start recording when I press play.” The tall male gives you the okay signal as he raises the phone’s angle to make sure everyone’s seen in the screen. Bless his soul. He does as you told him. The run goes without a hitch, by now everyone knows to give their all in the last run to which they do. As your team dances, you notice a familiar brown mop of hair in the peripheral vision. ‘Focus.’ You force yourself to do so as you do your segment, all while cheering for the others who were starting to lose breath. He stands next to Yunho, watching your entire team dance. A small part of you hopes that he’s watching the team as a whole. Once the run was over, a few of the members drop their sore bodies to the floor, relishing the cool feeling of the cement. You dismiss the team, telling them to cool down and stretch on their own as it was late. You walk over to the angel and the demon, both with different emotions displayed on their features. “How was it?”

Yunho hands your phone back and flashes two thumbs up. “That was really cool! You guys really keep with your team’s legacy.” 

Those words make you smile through the exhaustion that has set on your features. “Thank you, you probably have to go now since it’s late. Thanks again for helping us!” You wave him goodbye, doing your best to not look at the demon next to him that stares you down. Just as you were about to leave them be, he speaks up. 

“You looked tired the entire time.” Mingi says with a shrug. “Gotta be an example to your members, y’know?” 

Without looking back at the two males, you heave a sigh. You were tired and the stress for your team and academics was setting in. “Song Mingi, I really am in no mood to deal with your lack of a filter. Please just leave already.” Before you could stop yourself, you find yourself looking over the male. “You call yourself the captain when you’re here throwing unneeded comments. Please do reflect first on yourself before trying to fight me.” You say with a roll of your eyes as you take the chance to leave. 

You don’t see Yunho drag Mingi away before he could say anything. You do see Mingi greet some members of your team and your two best friends as if he didn’t just try to rile you up. You also do see Wooyoung and San’s concern for you. “Don’t do the spiderman reps today. Just do it tomorrow.” Wooyoung immediately pipes up. He knows how you get when you’re angry, the last time you tried to do something out of spite, you sprained your wrist.  

“Let’s just go grab some late dinner. I need food.” Your voice comes out breathier than usual. Too exhausted to bother keeping up a front as you wipe your sweat with the collar of your shirt.. 

The three of you were seated in a fast food chain, dietary plans be damned. You needed something filling and if it was going to be through nuggets, a burger and a big cup of iced coffee then so be it. You had your head in your hands. The two had taken cared of your order, both of them returning to your table with trays full of food and drinks. 

“This is just so shitty..” you mumble, staring at your nuggets. “I have to deal with the mess the alumni left the team with. I mean, I don’t mind covering the expenses from the gigs I’ve done but it’s not going to be enough. Not being in a studio is already so..” you couldn’t continue your thoughts so you shove the entire nugget into your mouth. 

“Don’t beat yourself up. You’re doing everything you can for the team.” San reminds you while he eats his burger. How he manages to fit what looked like a double decker in his mouth was still a mystery to you. 

“The team already knows of the issue since day 1 and they know you’re doing everything you can.” Wooyoung adds gently. He hated seeing you be so tough on yourself.  

Both of them were right but it doesn’t stop you from beating yourself up for having to do your best with tied hands. This isn’t a choreography where you could still move as freely even if you had your hands tied. This is real life with no practice. 

“I know you’re still annoyed at Mingi’s comments but come on, he doesn’t dance. So don’t pay attention to him.” San reminds you, already halfway with his burger. Boys with their almost insatiable appetites without gaining that much weight is something. 

You take a deep breath, pushing the strands of hair that cling to your face as you pull yourself together again. If you were going to cry, it wasn’t going to be here. “Fuck it. I’ll enjoy these nuggets. San, where are we training tomorrow?” 

“Studio. Yeosang got us a discount.” 

“Perfect. Also, make sure he stays in the team once I graduate. His strengths could be so good for house segments also that discount trick he has.” 

“Don’t talk about leaving us yet!!” The two of them cry out at the same time, and by chance they harmonize. 

“Don’t leave the dance team for the choir. Both of you are taking over my position.” You shoot back with laughter. 

The next training comes and it’s a lot more peaceful for your head. Your coach was back teaching another segment for the entire time. Whenever your coach was around, you cut back on your jokes and made sure that everyone didn’t go too out of line with their ways to keep the morale up. The training session leaves everyone much more exhausted as compared to yesterday. 

“Good job guys, you guys did a lot better compared to the last time I saw you. Let’s go for gold.” Your coach says as the three of you, along with Yeosang manage the payments. It’s that type of comments that make this entire competition season worth it. Once all the payments were settled, everyone was slowly going on their own separate ways to deal with their own requirements. Wooyoung and San were going to head to a computer shop to play for a game or two, how long that would be was unknown. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Don’t be late for our history class… Please.” You stated, knowing just how your professor was strict with attendance and tardiness. 

San whines at you. “We won’t! We promise.” 

Wooyoung interjects, “Call him an hour earlier, you know how he is in the mornings.” 

You shake your head at their antics and wave them off. “Fine, see you guys.” You readjust your bag as you slowly make your back to your dorm. A long shower and a hearty meal were needed before you could focus on your papers. After you freshen up, you pick up your laptop and other essentials as you make your way to your usual coffee shop. 

The staff in the coffee shop already knew you. The amount of late nights you spent here to catch up on your studies to the point where they have to tell you to leave as they were closing was innumerable. They also know your current situation just based on your orders. If your order of coffee is stronger than usual, you were most likely stressed. If you had a meal with your drink, you were going to be forcing yourself to finish your requirements. 

You ordered a macchiato with an extra espresso shot and a sandwich. 

By the time your orders came in, you were taking down notes from the reading on your screen. You thank the staff for bringing your order to you, probably having missed them calling your name from the adrenaline in your body to get all of these finished. It’s only when you look up that you catch sight of two familiar faces that were ordering. An exhale and you reach for your earphones. Once you find them you plug them into your laptop, going back to work. 

An elbow jabs his side, and he pulls out his earphones, looking at Yunho with a miffed expression. “What? Yunho, there’s barely any free table here. Let’s just get our orders and leave.” Mingi grumbles. The spare tables were outside but that also meant being in the company of smokers. Yunho pays no heed to his best friend’s complaints and gestures to the table next to yours. 

“That one’s free.”

“You’re insane.” 

“I’m just pointing it out! Besides, air con.” Yunho also adds with a grin. Since last year, his rivalry with you had become a little blurry. He doesn’t remember what the two of you constantly fought about at this point but he clearly knows he can’t stand your presence. His best friend on the other hand, wanted to change that before all of you go on your own lives. 

The air con point was a strong one to fight against. Instead of fighting against it, he just grumbles and lets Yunho do as he wishes. At least if a fight breaks out between the two of you, he could point it at Yunho. The logical part of his head also reasons that if a fight breaks out, his reputation along with the school’s would be destroyed. He couldn’t win. 

He waits for their orders off to the side, prolonging the inevitable of having to sit near you. Once their orders have arrived, he and Yunho carry them towards where you are. 

A hand appears at your peripherals and you look at the owner. The recognition taking a while to set in. The dazed look in your eyes after being disturbed was a little amusing in his perspective. 

“Hey, sorry for disturbing. Is this table free?” He asks with an apologetic smile.

Your eyes scan the entire coffee shop for possible places for them to stay just so they don’t disturb you. All tables were taken. “Uh yeah sure, go ahead.” With that, the two boys sit next to your table as you go back to your work. 

Thankfully, the boys leave you be as you continue to write and read. When you let own a yawn, you knew you had to give yourself a bit of a break. You pull out your earphones as you start eating again to give your brain a break. You look at your list of things to do and a little bit of relief sets in when you manage to finish a good portion of what can be finished tonight. 

“About time you ate.” 

That was enough to cause you to choke on your coffee. You look at the source of the voice and it was Yunho, who was obviously amused with your reaction. 

“Did I scare you?”

“You’re still here?!” You ask incredulous, when you shift your gaze to your front, you were greeted with the devil. Mingi obviously looks like the reading material isn’t much of an interest, not that you could blame him. A small tinge of sympathy sets in you when you realize his notebook was filled with calculations. Yuck. 

Yunho tilts his head in confusion then nods. “Yeah, we have an exam coming up.” The male peeks over his laptop to see that Mingi was on a different topic. “I thought you were studying for history.” 

“Marketing had more things for me to deal with.” The other states in a flat voice as he continues to spin his pen. 

That’s when you notice that there were some eyes on your table, to be specific, on Mingi. It made you a little thankful that you weren’t as out there in the public as he was. It didn’t change the fact that you feel a little bad for the both of them. “Is this under Professor Hwang?” You ask as you catch sight of a familiar reading on Yunho’s laptop. 

“Yeah! Did you take it already?” This causes both pairs of eyes to land on you. 

“I took it earlier today. Do you guys need help?” 

That was enough to make Mingi lean a little forward, for Yunho to look a little more awake. “Are you sure? You’ve been working hard with your own thing.” Yunho reasons carefully. Your to-do list reaches your view again and you take a moment to gauge how good you can juggle your work and theirs. As much as you despised Mingi, Professor Hwang’s anger was something you’d rather everyone avoids. 

“When’s your exam?” By now, your gaze has shifted to your laptop screen as you try to look at your schedule. 

“Friday..” 

“Give me your schedules.” You say, giving Yunho your contact details. “Both of your schedules. I’m already thinking of how to squeeze you into my schedule.” The two boys look at each other in surprise but they give you their schedules, your tone left no room for any opposition. No wonder you were the captain. No wonder people are intimidated by you. Mingi found it impressive. 

“I’ll message Yunho when and where to meet me. We can’t meet during the day, tell me immediately. If both of you want a study session after our respective trainings that work too. Just keep in contact with me with any update.” It wasn’t a request. It’s an order. 

You didn’t even notice that Mingi had pulled his hoodie down to look at you properly. Your attention was too focused on what Yunho was talking about regarding the coverage. None of you really intended to do so but you eventually were giving them tips on how to study for her exam, and they promise-- well more of Yunho promises to make it up to you after. 

“Excuse me, We’re about to close up for the day.” the staff informs gently as he goes to the next table that still had people poring over their books. 

With that, the three of you pack up your things. You finish the rest of your coffee. 3AM. You have 5 hours of sleep left to last through the day. “I’ll see you both depending on your schedules.” It was a reminder for Yunho to send their schedules and he does immediately. You bid them goodbye, as you leave the coffee shop on your way back to your dorm. 

“So they put away their rivalry with you, Mingi.” Yunho notes with a glance at the male who put his hood up once more. He hums in response. To others, he might as well have ignored his best friend for the comfort of his own thoughts. Yunho knows better. Mingi just wasn’t the type of guy who openly admits his thoughts. 

“If we’re studying with them later, can we choose a spot where no one’s looking at us.” He mumbles. Yunho felt for the guy. He didn’t want the role of captain, wanting to just play basketball with a team. Yet being the captain also meant that he would eventually become the face of the university and potential love calls from potential sponsors. The poor guy could barely focus on his studies without having strangers oogle at him when he was outside university grounds. 

“Will tell them.” Yunho returns as the two make their way to their own apartment. 

You reach your room after freshening up. 3:15AM. You were definitely going to need a strong cup of coffee throughout the day. A reminder to call San when you wake up was prepared. With that, your sleep was swift. 

The cursed wind chime alarm jolts you out of your slumber. 8AM. A curse elongated by a dry groan escapes your lips. As you wash your face, you call San’s phone. “Pick up the phone, you sleepy butt.” You mutter as you prepare for your day. 

He finally answers the phone though with a whine that pleads for more sleep.

“Get up. We can’t be late for class.” 

His whines could’ve been mistaken for cries but you hear the sheets ruffle under his movements. 

“I’ll buy you a donut, San. Just please get up and get ready for class.” The things you do for your friends. 

“I’m up, I’m up. Can you get the birthday cake version please?” 

“I’ll buy it after class, so you better show up.” You hang up just in time for a message to come in. 

[ Yunho ] we’re free at 2-4 pm and 10-2am later! 

[ You ] I can help 2:30-4 meet me by the benches near the chemistry department. 

The class goes by painfully slow but you give San the money for the donut. Before he could complain that he wanted you to buy it for him, you quickly cut to the chase. “I just need to help someone with their studies until 4. See you guys later.” 

You arrive at the benches with a sandwich in your free hand. No sign of the two boys yet, so you choose a bench away from prying eyes but visible enough for the two to see you. With some time to spare still, you take a few bites of your sandwich as you look through the notes as a refresher. The shuffling of feet against the pebbles and grass catch your attention. Did you expect Mingi to come first? Maybe this exam really meant a lot for him. 

“Yunho’s following shortly. He just had to use the restroom.” He explains when he notices your wandering eyes. That shuts you up as you give him a polite nod, letting him settle on the bench opposite you. 

“I think you forgot something.” 

When did he strike conversations with you? He hands you your earphones then rubs the back of his neck. 

“You left before Yunho or I could catch you.” 

Your jaw drops slightly at the sight of your favorite earphones. How could this have slipped your mind? This pair was your favorite and your most used due to your activities. “Oh my god. Thank you for taking care of it.” There was no hint of underlying annoyance in your voice as you kept them in your pocket. 

Just then, Yunho jogs towards where the two of you are, sitting next to you. “Sorry to make you wait!” Mingi lets out an exasperated sigh, as he brings out his notes. 

“It’s fine. Let’s get started now cause I don’t think we’ll have any strength to study later.” 

That’s how the ninety minutes go by. Quizzing the two guys on certain topics while giving them tips on how to do well for the exam. It’s not in you to spoon feed them the answers, and even if you did, the exam was half multiple choice and half essay. With every right answer they gave, you would smile brightly and nod. The smile seems a lot brighter around Yunho, when it came to Mingi your smile was a mix of pride and surprise. Not that you thought Mingi slacks off on his studies, he just seems like the type to not pay attention to things that don’t interest him. 

Mingi also notices how you seem to open up when things go smoothly. Almost the entire time, your eyes were on Yunho as he carried the conversation with questions and clarifications over the topic. When he hears his question on the connection of the uprising to succeeding events, he pipes up.

“Wait, Yunho. That’s not part of the coverage, also, a totally different event.. You confused it with the other one.” Mingi explains, brows slightly scrunched as he explains the event to the best that he can from memory. 

You look at him with an impressed smirk. He definitely had brain cells that give him the credit that he deserves. You gesture to him as you shift your gaze back to Yunho. “There’s your answer.” 

Just like that, the bell rings, telling all students that the ninety minutes is over. The broody male is the first to pack his things up, thanking you under his breath. The pink haired male on the other hand, thanks you profusely and waves goodbye to you as they head to their last class. 

You don’t realize the breath you were holding until they left, eyes drop to the earphones that Mingi had returned to you. It’s a nice change you suppose, as compared to all the daggers you’ve thrown at each other. 

Today’s training was held in the same place. Court 2. You could hear the basketballs bouncing against the court floor along with the squeaks of rubber shoes against the floor. If you listened carely, you could hear Mingi cheering for the other members as they continued with their drills. You had your own drills too. This drill being new choreography. The team was picking up the new choreography faster as compared to the past. Those who weren’t part of the segment your coach was teaching were off to the side, cleaning what they know. San and you were part of the group that was learning the new segment. Both of you being the centers. The choreography is admittedly trickier. You didn’t think you’d be doing krumping next to San but here you are. Your group goes through it over and over as your coach directs on how and where to execute the movements. Occasionally, your coach would ask some of you to try a stunt or trick. He wants the gold as much as the entire team and it sometimes reaches the point where he forgets he’s leading student-dancers. 

Your group was gasping for breath afterwards that you had to remind your coach to check on the others and teach the other segments that need to be taught. It worked and it gave your group some more time to breath and rehydrate themselves. Only five weeks left. Ideally, after this week would be intensive cleaning and minor editing. Everyone already had the mix but your coach constantly would try to change little things. Were you worried that this would be rushed and cost the team a place in the top three? Definitely. Being an overthinker and having a coach who was just as bad, if not worse wasn’t helpful. You thanked Wooyoung and San for reminding him of the logistics and reality of things. 

The next few hours go quickly and everyone is admittedly, surprised and relieved that they finished the piece. San gives you a quick massage to relax your nerves as your coach asks the team to do the entire piece, cleanliness not really being something he’d look into for now. The entire number goes by with a few road bumps, none of which he seems to mind. At least he had mercy after being reminded, and by the last run, everyone lets themselves crumple to the ground. Training was officially done for the day. Everyone pays their share for the coach for the day then leaves. Wooyoung and San help you gather the payments then leave quickly, both having to cram papers that were due in two hours. 

This leaves you and your coach alone.

“When is the team going to pay? I need the money too.” You knew where he was coming from. His family had some health issues that had to be dealt with, it was why he didn’t come the other day. You’ve been pestering the team the past few days in the chat for their share, some of them always pushing it back. Your body wanted nothing but to eat something then sleep. Even if you had your gigs as a source of income, it was enough to get you by. With how your coach urgently needed the money and how you couldn’t think clearly, you caved. You ask for his bank account details and right there, you transfer the money to his account from yours. You put the phone screen to his eye level to show the proof of transfer. 

“There.” You say, waiting for him to notice the proof before packing up your things. He nods and you try to keep a note to raise your talent fee in order to make ends meet. He thanks you for the payment and as he was about to discuss another matter regarding the team, he gets a call which you assume is from his family. 

“I have to go. Let’s talk tomorrow.” 

You nod, bidding him goodbye before packing up your things. Holy fuck you were hungry and stressed. Studies, dance and now money? Of all times it had to be when it was near hell week? You want to cry. 

“What are you doing here? It’s late.” Mingi asks, his tone clearly not helping you in your current predicament. 

“What, I can’t stay here now? Is this your territory, Song Mingi?” A groan slips from your lips, but at this point it just sounds like a growl. “I can’t let myself catch my breath here?” You spit out. For once, his eyes widen at your venom. 

“I’m asking because it’s already midnight. You know how the streets outside can be a little dangerous at this hour.” He’s exasperated. A small part of him can’t get himself to be his usual self around you after having helped him in his studies. 

You immediately stand up from your spot, about to give him a piece of your hazy mind. Only, when you stand up, you feel the blood suddenly rush and your head spins for a moment. You lose your balance in that moment and the man knows better than to say anything that could make this worse. 

Maybe it was because of his long limbs that you’ve come to be envious of, or his quick reflexes from his basketball history, regardless he manages to hold you up before you crumple to the ground. His finger gently pulls your lower eyelid down to peek at the color of your eyes. Pale pink. You need to eat and drink something fast. 

“You need to eat.” He states, holding your bag with his free hand as he tries to keep you up. 

You knew that you weren’t really fine but you still had some sort of want for self preservation that you let out a weak lie. “I’m fine.”

“No you aren’t.” The chances of you putting up a fight were low so you let him guide you to the nearest food chain. 

It was the same fast food chain you go to with Wooyoung and San every post training. You couldn’t get yourself to look at the menu, the smell of meat, fried strips of potato and grease were overwhelming you. The bright lights made you want to shut your eyes. He notices this and brings you first to a booth far from the noise of people. “Stay here.” He doesn’t know why he said that, you were in no position to go anywhere else as you bury your features in your arms. He crouches down to your hunched level. “Do you want anything in particular?” You shake your head weakly. “I’ll buy you something okay?” You just nod. No strength in you to say that you didn’t want him to pay for you, that you were broke, that you just wanted to go home and sleep. 

The time he was off buying your meal, you were floating in and out of consciousness. You reach for your water bottle, to finish what was left before the food came. All that was left were two mouthfuls of water which you suppose could stave off the hunger pains. As you wait for Mingi, you fish your phone out from your bag as you message the team to remind them of their unpaid dues. Your next gig wasn’t going to be until after this competition. Could you juggle a gig within the next five weeks while dealing with your student duties? Probably not but it is being considered. 

Mingi arrives shortly with a tray full of food for you and him. “I owe you.” You mumble as you straighten up at the sight of food. He shakes his head as he hands you a double burger, orange juice, and ice cream. For him, a burger, nuggets, ice cream and coke. 

“You need this. Call it even, you’re helping me with my exam.” 

You stare at him for a moment then look at the meal. You were hungry and you couldn’t stop yourself from digging in anymore. The size of the burger makes it a little tricky for you to take big bites, forcing you to take small bites slowly. All of which was Mingi’s plan. After seeing how pale and weak you were, having you eat quickly all of a sudden wasn’t going to be good for you. 

“H-hey, is everything okay?” Mingi asks, alarmed as he hands you some tissue to wipe your cheeks with. “You’re crying.” 

The pad of your thumb brushes against your cheek and you could feel the wetness of your thumb. You take the tissue from his hands as you wipe your eyes. “I guess it’s the stress.” You mumble. It still hasn’t set in that you’ve reached your limit and you’re just wiping away the tears as they come. 

“Wanna talk about it?” He offers. For tonight, he puts aside the sour relationship he has with you. 

So you do. Through the tears and food, you share what’s been causing you distress. The internal issues of your team thanks to the alumni’s mishandling of the finances. The financial issues of having to cover some of those issues with your own money. Your academic workload. The pressure of being a captain when you feel like you just became one because there was nobody else willing to take on the role. Along the way, you ended up admitting your jealousy towards Mingi: how the school tends to favor the basketball team as compared to the arts and dance teams, how he’s doing so well as a captain, how finances is the least of his worries for the team. 

That takes him by surprise. The entire time he’s been giving you hell, you’ve been going through your own hell. The idea of internal financial issues never crossed his mind, though that was mostly due to the fact the school covers the expenses for travel and what not. Along with the sponsorships his team receives from sports brands. While he was so caught up in his own jealousy towards you, he didn’t realize that you had your plate just as filled as his, if not heavier. He says nothing, opting to eat his food as you unload everything you’ve kept from everyone. It was obvious from how affected you were, just how passionate you are for this field and to be disregarded, disrespected and be the one to clean up after the mess would clearly take a toll on anyone. He watches you carefully, you’ve stopped crying but your eyes were puffy. It takes a while before you take a deep breath and that was a sign you finished with your tirade. 

“Are you open for my own thoughts or is it better if I just listen?” He finally asks after finishing his burger. 

You let him take the floor this time as you continue eating your burger. 

Here, he admits his wrong doings to you. Just as you were jealous, so was he. Jealous of how you could keep a low profile despite having performed in front of so many people over the years. How he thought you were doing well in juggling your academics with your workload. How you could manage a team as the sole captain, even if Wooyoung and San were your co-captains. He also admits how he thought your team was doing well in terms of finances considering the clothes you have for the performances. Along the way, he apologizes for having added to your hardships. “If you guys need help with financial stuff, just tell me.” Maybe the words passing around of how rich his family was true. 

You stare at the male, your drink halfway to your mouth. That was enough to make him backtrack his words. “I mean, if that’s okay with you.” Instead of saying anything that could worsen the situation, he just opts to eat the rest of his food in silence. 

For the first time that night, you chuckle at his actions. Fingers brush through your hair as you push away the strands that block your vision. “I’ll think about the offer. Thank you though for it.” 

For the first time, he actually shoots you a genuine smile. He walks you back to your dorm, not minding to carry some of your things. It was a quiet walk, not that any of you minded, at least this silence was comfortable as compared to the tensed ones of the past. 

Once you reach your place, you take your bags from him. “Don’t forget tomorrow okay?” 

He stares at you, confused at what prompted you to say such. A few seconds pass and it clicks. “Ah! Yeah, we’ll be there, same place?” 

You nod as you unlock your door. “Get some sleep Mingi. It’s been a long night.” You bid him a good night with another smile before retreating into the safety of your abode. 

The male realized that your smiles seem to make him feel odd emotions. 

The following day goes by quickly. You manage to do alright in your exams and presentations-- though a good portion of your presentation being candid. You go through your usual routine of buying your lunch as you wait for the two in the same spot. 

You didn’t expect Mingi to call your name out, especially in disbelief. Yunho following him shortly. “What’s the occasion?” Yunho asks as he eyes your business formal attire. You look down at yourself and you realize that they are probably more accustomed to your casual wear and training clothes. 

“Oh, presentations. Some of my professors are particular about the attire so…” you trail off with a shrug. “Anyways, let’s get started before you need to go to your next class.” 

You twist your questions a little more this time, testing their memory and understanding of the events. They manage to answer your questions with ease, even going as far as connecting the events to events that happen after. Your heart swells with pride and confidence. If they pass the exam, they were going to do so with flying colors. 

The bell rings and it’s the same old once more. “That concludes our last session. You’ll do great tomorrow.” You say as you give them a standing ovation. Yunho was the first one to react. 

“Whaaat, it’s that fast?” He whines with a pout. With your attention sole on the faded pink male, you don’t catch Mingi’s mixed expression. Just when the two of you were getting along, both of you were going back to your own lives. “We won’t see you anymore?” He asks, almost like a child whose lollipop was taken from them. 

“Boys, you got class. You’re going to be late!” So you shoo them off. Mingi nods and stalks away, Yunho waving to you as he jogs after Mingi. 

“You think we’ll do okay tomorrow?” 

“We’ve been studying for this more than needed. We better, man.” 

You watch them jog towards their next class until San notifies the group chat of their venue for the upcoming days. 

[ Mountain ] Hey everyone! We’re using the studio for the remaining weeks starting today! ^^ 

[ Welsh Corgi ] fries are on us every pre-training so be there early!

[ You ] *only on wooyoung and san :p 

Who knew that today was going to be the last day you’d see Mingi and Yunho?

Part 2

[ithinkweallsing]

Spilled Beans

Spilled Beans- Remus Lupin x Fem Reader

Coffee Shop AU- total fluff!

AN- Fair warning this is my first attempt at writing! I might try to do a second part, not totally sure!

y/n- your name

y/h/c- your hair color 

y/h/l- your hair length 

y/e/c- your eye color 

Word Count- 1.1K 

________________________________________________________________

He was here again.

Usually, he would walk in, wearing a well-loved knit sweater, and order his typical small black coffee before going to sit in the corner of the store. (The two big armchairs residing in his resident corner always seemed to be unoccupied when he would show up.) Sometimes he would bring in stacks of papers and scribble furiously on them, making you think that perhaps he was a teacher or professor.  

Other times though he would come in with a book and sit for hours, eyes flicking anxiously back and forth across the page as he becomes fully engrossed in the plot, casually biting his lower lip during nerve-wracking scenes.

You noticed these things a few weeks into your now-steady routine. You were determined to try and offer him something that was not as disgusting as black coffee. Today, he came in and greeted you with a soft smile as he walked up to the counter.

           “How about a caramel latte this time?” you asked hopefully.

           “No thanks, just a black coffee,” he responded with a slight grin.

           “I swear, one of these days I will get you to try something new,” you said with a slight chuckle.

You were never sure why, but there was an inexplicable draw you felt towards him that you couldn’t quite understand. You didn’t know anything about him, the magnetic guy in the back corner of the shop, other than his name of course, which you wrote on the side of his cup every time he came in - Remus.

________________________________________________________________

You were here, again, thank god. Y/n.

He was always worried that when he came in that you wouldn’t be here, but, unfailingly, every time he walked through the door, he would see your y/h/l y/h/c hair, and gorgeous y/e/c eyes. Eyes that seemed to keep thousands of secrets yet welcome him in explicably. He breathed a silent sigh of relief.

Not that he should be worried, since you had had the routine down for months now, but still. Every time he saw you behind the counter it made him feel like he was being enveloped in a warm hug or taking the first sip of a perfect mug of black coffee. He thought you looked perfect in your dark jeans and t-shirt with a black apron layered over, both emblazoned with the store logo.

His eyes followed you around the store as you worked, quickly glancing back down at his coffee or book when he could sense you turning to glance at him. Still, he couldn’t help himself. There was something there, something about you that made him look again every time you turned away.

________________________________________________________________

Fate would have it that this peaceful balance had to change.

Of course, this surface level discourse had to be disrupted one day. And it would make even more sense that it would be disrupted by your unparalleled talent for tripping over your own two left feet.

You were balancing several containers of new coffee beans, while desperately trying to see above the stack you were holding, and not run into anyone or anything. You were doing a passable job, until you weren’t.

You had a few feet ahead of you until you could set the large stack down, and of course that was when a customer suddenly sat up and pushed his chair back- right into your walking path. Unprepared for the interference, you dropped everything in your arms, getting shoved to your left by the impact of the chair and landing in another armchair to the side that happened to have a cute guy holding a cup of tepid black coffee occupying it.

As you crashed into the chair, a warm hand wrapped around your waist, keeping you from seriously injuring anything worse than your pride. The contact sent a spark down your spine that settled where the hand pressed into your side. The black coffee he had been holding slipped from his hand and down the front of your shirt.

“Oh shoot!” You yelped in surprise. You looked up at the rest of the man attached to the hand. It was him. Remus.

He looked at the coffee stains on you in shock and horror. “Oh dear, I am so sorry!” He exclaimed, quickly rushing to his feet, effectively moving you off, to look at the damage done by his black coffee. You glanced down for the first time, having been distracted by his glittering brown eyes and were met with a wet mark down the front of your apron. Thank god the apron was black or else this might’ve been even more embarrassing.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” You stated matter-of-factly. His eyes widened at your nonchalant response to getting assaulted with coffee. “Those coffee beans will be hellacious to clean up.”

He looked down at the ground to see it covered in loose coffee beans, the containers open and face down on the floor.

“Are you alright?” He asked anxiously, worried that you were upset with him for staining your clothes and for grabbing you without permission. (ugh a respectful king)

“Yeah, for sure. Don’t worry about it,” You said. “You would be surprised at how often stuff like this happens to me.” You smiled. “The perils of the uncoordinated I suppose but usually I don’t have cute guys grabbing me when it happens.”

He blinked, looking confused.

“Thank you for catching me, I think that you saved me from a nasty fall,” You continued, looking up at him with a slight smile.

A slow smile spread across his face. “Of course, love, what kind of person would I be if I let beautiful women, quite literally falling for me, risk getting hurt?” He questioned, with a mischievous glint in his eye.

You blushed and looked down at the floor.

He cleared his throat and said, “I really am sorry about the coffee, I can pay for a replacement or I can get it dry cleaned, or-”

You cut him off with a laugh and responded, “No I don’t think that my t-shirt needs replacing or dry cleaning, maybe just a run through the wash will work, but you can take me to dinner if you want.” You blushed before adding, “Ya know, to make it up to me.”

He looked at you, shocked, as if he couldn’t believe you wanted to go out with him. Maybe he misheard you? You were certain that you had just asked him to dinner, but maybe he hadn’t gotten the message.

He stood there frozen before asking, “With me?” in an incredulous tone.

You shook your head and laughed at his disbelief. “Well yeah, I feel like I should get to know the guy that saved me from falling on my face,” You said.

“I would like that, a lot,” He admitted, a blush now staining his cheeks.

“Me too. Tomorrow, at 6, meet me here?” You asked.

“Sounds wonderful, tomorrow,” He responded.

Tomorrow.

[pluto-art]

Syncytium - Chapter 6

Title: Blackbird Words: 27,440 (no, you did not read that incorrectly; ha) Rating: T

Fan Fiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13712482/6/Syncytium

I am always going to highly recommend the Fan Fiction link, as it retains all of the accentuated words. I will also be uploading this to AO3 soon. Yes, I know it’s... very long. XD

October 20th, 1993 - 11:23 AM

A starling piped out its little laughing call on the autumn air, a light breeze carrying its song throughout the campus of A.C.M.E. Arts and Sciences. Occasionally, it tickled the ears of a student peppered here and there, sitting by a fountain or under a tree. Sometimes it wandered far enough to whistle past an open door and into the hallways of the university. Olivia, on her way to deliver another message, caught it near the entrance and whistled back, smiling. Basil, passing by Olivia, chuckled as he shuffled through a band of papers clutched in his long-fingered hands, an all-too-familiar tune escaping from his lips: the Gilligan's Island theme song. He couldn't help it. It just got lodged in his throat now whenever he saw Olivia. The tune traveled, Basil passing it to Mrs. Frisby... who passed it to Teresa on her way to Mathematics class... who tossed it to Bernard and Bianca... who finally threw it off to Flaversham, who took it with him into his office. Music made merry in the mornings throughout Acme, but there was one individual who took it upon himself to sing a slightly different tune...

In Room 319, paused at the finale of that day's science lecture, spewed a cavalcade of obscenities.

"How in the name of Isaac Newton do you COMPLETE dimwitted modicums NOT know the basics of the Pythagorean Theorem?!"

Sweat dripped from students' brows and paws as Globetrotter yelled at the top of his lungs. A couple of sophomores could barely keep their eyes open, cheeks propped up on their fists; they'd heard it all before. Mouse boy with the note pad was scribbling feverishly, his tongue between his teeth. 'Dimwitted modicums'. This was gold.

"Do I have to do everything myself?!"

Heaving an excessively prodigious sigh, Globetrotter stood up from his chair (which made a loud vrrrrrrr sound as it scooted back across the hard wood floor), shifted over to one side of his desk, rubbed at his temple for a moment, and offered his dreaded invitation:

"Ms. Mayhew. Would you kindly step up to the blackboard?"

Every eye in the room turned to a skinny, pointy-nosed mouse with auburn hair and a lacy blue outfit. She looked positively terrified and turned helplessly to those around her. All she received was pitying stares in return. Gadget looked shocked.

"I'm waiting, Ms. Mayhew."

With a large gulp, the girl slowly shook her way up from her desk, eyes transfixed on Globetrotter, and took a chance.

"S-S-Sir, I-"

"ARE YOU GOING TO MAKE ME WAIT HERE, OR WILL YOU KINDLY DO THE HONOR OF ACKNOWLEDGING MY REQUEST?!"

Without another word, little Ms. Mayhew flew down to the front, practically tripping over herself on the way down. She stopped in front of Globetrotter, resolute, eyes wide. Her tail was trembling something horrible. So were her knees. So was... all of her, really. Every soul in the room knew what she was thinking. Why me?

"Thank you," bit Globetrotter, frowning deeply at her as he grabbed a very long, very wooden stick leaning against the blackboard and pointed sharply to an equation written upon it in thick white chalk. "Now, would you mind telling me what this says?"

The girl mouse stared up at the equation, covertly slipping another gulp as best she could down her throat. How she wished she hadn't worn her nice dress today. It was getting terribly soaked from all the sweat.

"Ahem!" Globetrotter coughed, mockingly.

"A-uhm...," stumbled the girl.

She knew what the equation was - could solve it in her sleep, in fact. But the harsh reality of the course was that even the sharpest of tacks turned into melted brass at the sight of an angry Globetrotter. Since its inception, most every class he'd taught had been filled to the brim with bright and eager pupils, yet all he saw were a bunch of dunces, born of his own blindness.

"I'm waiting..."

She swallowed again.

"Well, um... t-t-the equation clearly s-states that fourteen for 'b'... I-I mean 'c', divi-... um... i-is, I mean, equal to the-"

"Ms. Mayhew, are you insinuating that you cannot even solve for something as trivial as this?"

"N-No! I mean, I can... i-it's jus-"

"Perhaps my class is too difficult for you, is that it? Perhaps you should have been held back a semester?"

At this, the girl frowned. Timid she may have been, but stupid she absolutely was not.

"M-Mr. Globetrotter, I actually a-"

"Then I suppose it wouldn't be terribly out of the question if I assigned extra homework for you all mid-semester?"

"NO!" was the resounding reply by a fair number of students.

Almost all of them were glaring daggers at Globetrotter, not only for his harsh treatment of a fellow classmate, but also for the unfairness at hand. More homework? Already they'd been given three assignments in Algebra 1 alone, on top of all the other papers due in other courses. Even for Globetrotter, to slap on yet another was excessive.

Globetrotter simply smirked.

"Good," he said. "Then I expect it promptly tomorrow night. Dismissed!"

"Tomorrow night?!" snapped a boy hamster at the very back of the class. "But we're already working on our other assignments!"

"Dismissed!"

Slowly, they all began to file out, groaning. Ms. Mayhew still stood by the blackboard, fighting back tears as Gadget came up to her side and threw an arm around her comfortingly.

"Come on," she whispered, shuffling her out the door. "You didn't deserve that mess."

She threw a deathly stare at their teacher on the way out, one he didn't notice; he was too busy straightening papers. She wasn't the only one. Several students were privately, albeit facetiously, plotting Globetrotter's death, and even note-taking guy shiftily stuck his tongue out at Globetrotter on his trek to the door.

Outside, Teresa had just arrived to tentatively take a seat by Room 319. She jumped as the door banged open. It was a mad dash between the students to get out the door as quickly as possible without making it seem like they were rushing - the sound of shuffling was so prevalent, and the atmosphere so electric, that Teresa was surprised there wasn't static shock bouncing off of them as they went despite the floor not being carpeted.

Poor Ms. Mayhew came last of all, Gadget still comforting her gently, and they lingered by the wall where Teresa sat. She stood up, concerned, a pile of books clutched in her arms.

"What happened?"

"Pen got the Global Treatment," explained Gadget, disdain still painted all over her face.

"What?!"

"H-He said I was stupid!" Penelope Mayhew lamented, rubbing at her eyes and sniffing heavily.

"He did not."

"He did," said Gadget. "My laser wrench is almost complete. I'd like to give it a try on him."

Frowning, Teresa set down her books, took Penelope's paws in hers, and gave her a good, long look.

"Penelope? Don't let what he says change you, okay? You're not stupid and you're not unworthy. We love you just the way you are. Okay?"

At the word "just" she gave her hands a little shake - firmly; definitively. This seemed to cheer Penelope up a bit. Sniffing once more, she gave a nervous little chuckle, smiled, and wiped more tears from her eyes.

"Thanks, Teresa," Pen choked out.

"Anytime."

"Thank you, too, Gadget."

"Hey, we've got your back, girl. Sorry I didn't take the bullet for you back there... I should've said something," admitted Gadget, hanging her head a little.

"Oh no. It's okay. I wouldn't have wanted you to get in trouble either..."

All three girls exchanged smiles.

"I... guess I'd better get going," said Penelope. "Thanks, guys."

"Bye, Pen," Teresa said, wiggling her fingers at her in farewell before bending down to pick up her books.

"Bye, 'Resa," Gadget replied, making to follow Penelope. Mid-way, however, she stopped and turned. "Oh. By the way, have you seen Maise' lately?"

Teresa shook her head.

"Me neither... She skipped class the last four days."

"Doesn't she have a brother?" asked Teresa.

Gadget nodded as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah. We haven't seen him around either..."

They both stood in awkward silence for a moment.

"Well, um, I'll see you later...?" inquired Teresa.

"Yeah... Have a good class," wished Gadget, crossing her fingers.

"Thanks," chuckled Teresa nervously, sighing as she entered Globetrotter's classroom.

The first thing that hit Olivia upon entering the despised teacher's scholastic abode... was the smell. She slapped a delicate pink paw over her nose in disgust, trying her best not to cough violently at the sudden inhalation of smoke. Globetrotter's eyes popped at the sight of her, and she barely had time to catch the fancy 'Sherman' script on a small black box resting on the table before the science teacher quickly swiped it from the desk and stuck it haphazardly into a drawer. Despite the rancid odor permeating the air, Teresa had to stifle a chuckle, for the look on Globetrotter's face, all puffy cheeks and shocked expression, made him look quite comical. He seemed half-way between deciding whether or not to swallow what he'd already inhaled... before opting to simply own up to being caught red-handed and letting out the smoke in one long, drawn out blow.

Biting her lip, Teresa shuffled as quietly as she could into the very back row and opened up on her book on Calculus, doing her best to ignore the tickling exhaust playing about her nostrils. She waved it off.

"You're early...," breathed Globetrotter, his feet propped pretentiously up on the table. He sounded altogether embarrassed and conceited, like a celebrity ordering fries at a McDonald's.

"I didn't know you smoked," stated Teresa shyly, but bluntly.

Globetrotter didn't answer right away. Taking another long draft, he blew out the remains of his ex-addiction before putting out the light and throwing the butt into the trash can.

"Old habit," he coughed, leaning back into his chair and staring off into space pensively.

Another pause followed. Flip went a page of Teresa's book.

"It's not good for you," she said softly, sounding... almost annoyed.

"If I wanted your opinion I would've asked for it," came Globetrotter's sharp retort.

Teresa sunk into her seat.

"Sorry..."

Globetrotter huffed, leaning further back into his chair with a creeeaaak that echoed off the walls. He'd have to get that oiled...

Privately, he knew she was right. Teresa was right about a lot of things. Not that he would outwardly admit to it. There was a reason why she was slightly more bold about pointing out his faults - she was one of his best students and she knew it. But she also knew that his fuse was short, and so still feared him to at least a moderate degree. Globetrotter was proud of this. He liked being in control, of instilling respect and obedience into the hearts of all who dared cross him. It made him feel powerful; influential; appreciated, even if in a notorious sense. Everyone hated him, but they also venerated him. No one would dare cross Globetrotter without good reason, save for, perhaps, Snowball, and for this he gladly took the unpopularity hit. After all, was that not what life was all about? Being respected? Going down in history as someone who was knowledgeable and talented in their craft? Stardom be darned. If he was going to be adored, it would be for his work, not his charity. For what was one's pitiful existence except to try and make a living best for oneself and no one else's? Life was a rat race, full of people who didn't care, and he intended to stay at the front of the line.

Flip... Flip...

As Teresa sifted through her tome, the shuffling of the pages brought to Globetrotter's mind a memory, far suppressed...

\\\

"What's this?" strolled the sharp tongue of a tall, female mouse. The less-than-exemplary grades revealed themselves most distastefully as she flipped up the page of teacher's notes, her nose turning up with it in disgust.

"Umm... M-Mrs. Taft said I could retake the class i-if I complete an extra assignment this seme-"

But the young boy mouse, hands shyly tucked behind his back and feet shifting unsteadily, was cut short.

"You expect me to believe this? That you can't pass a simple math class?"

"I-I..."

"What is this, Brian?"

"I... I-I..."

"BRIAN, LOOK AT YOUR MOTHER WHEN SHE'S TALKING TO YOU!"

Slowly, hesitantly, two glossy little crimson-tinted eyes peered up into salmon pink ones.

The mother sighed.

"As far as I am concerned, this is unacceptable. You will complete the assignment and retake the class as ordered. Your father will be alerted when he gets home. He will decide the punishment."

And she left, leaving him alone, shaking, in his room, all too aware of the laughter ringing outside his bedroom window - a reminder of which of the neighborhood children were allowed happiness... and which were not.

\\\

Globetrotter stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought. Lost to time.

"... Globetrotter...?"

Yes. That's what life was all about. Success. Legacy. No room for failure. No permission for error. He was used to hate, and so it bothered him not. No. It bothered him not...

He sighed.

"Mr. Globetrotter...?"

He didn't matter. Didn't matter. And that was okay. That was okay...

"Mr. Globetrotter!"

He jumped.

Teresa was staring at him from across the desk, concern etched deeply into every nook and cranny of her face.

Globetrotter sat up sharply, only then realizing that something was... off. He touched his cheek. Oh, crap.

"Are you okay?" Teresa pressed.

To cry at all was an act of weakness; deficiency. To be caught crying in public was downright mortifying.

He stared at her, shocked. She waited. For what? An answer...? His admittance?

"Get out...," he whispered, deadly.

"B-But, I..."

"GET OUT!"

She ran. Out of the room, into the hallway, slamming the door behind her.

Globetrotter was left to pant at his desk, chest heaving heavily as he buried his face in his hands... and cried.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

11:35 AM

Teresa sprinted as fast as she could, around a corner, down another stretch of hallway, and all the way to room 210. She knocked frantically. Even though she knew he wasn't always in this early, she hammered at the door for dear life. And amazingly, blessedly, it opened.

"Teresa?" queried Pinky, tilting his head confusedly.

Teresa said nothing, but simply threw her arms around him and started sobbing.

"Teresa!"

"M-Mr. Pinky! I-I...!"

"Ohhhhhh. Shhhh. It's all right! It's all right," cooed the Trozologist, returning the embrace in kind and petting Teresa's light brown fur comfortingly. "Come inside, love. We make you a pot of tea."

They stepped inside his office.

Compared to the first day Ronald Pinkus had set foot in A.C.M.E. Arts and Sciences, Room 210 was nigh unrecognizable. All but one empty box had been replaced with quaint little side tables, bookshelves, a soft gray couch, and various lamps and knick knacks that added color and flavor throughout the small classroom. The linoleum flooring had been replaced with threadbare carpeting, complete with a rug here and there. He'd left up the beach posters and complemented them with a sizable fish tank complete with tiny minnow. A wee brass plaque stuck to the tank near its bottom read: Jerry. On the teacher's desk sat the usual bits and bobs: a picture of Pinkus's family, some snacks, a couple of Newton's Cradles, and a green 70's lamp. The latest edition was an electric coffee pot, which was currently boiling water.

Teresa took a seat on the couch at Pinky's request, wiping at her eyes with a tissue he'd procured for her.

"Now, you sit right there! I'll be right with you with your tea!" said the friendly teacher, rushing over to his desk and quickly whipping out from one of the drawers a white mug with a 'Sonoma Theatre' company label on it and a tea bag.

As Pinky busied himself with the tea, Teresa, sniffing, gazed about the room.

There wasn't anything particularly surprising to her about it at this point, save for the coffee pot. She'd been in here more times than she could count by this point, and had, as such, seen its transition from humble classroom to house-maker's cottage. It was amazing how much the room felt like a home - save for the stale ceiling lights, chalkboard, and rolling tv, one would never know they were in a school. Even the smell of it was more reminiscent of one's grandmother's cottage than a dusty classroom. Their teacher had clearly tried to hide all traces of it being in a university as much as possible.

She looked around some more. Yes, everything else was the same.

Well... no, actually. Not quite.

"Mr. Pinky...?" Teresa asked, letting in another loud sniff.

"Hmm?"

"W-What's that?"

Pinky looked in the direction Teresa was pointing.

In the farthest corner of the room, next to a trash can and some stacked chairs, sat a tall cabinet with rows and rows of colorful drawers, each with a label on them. Although she couldn't read them from here, Teresa guessed they listed such names as 'Olivia', 'Timothy', 'Marvell', and 'Red', for over the course of the last month Pinky's class had begun to not only attract Olivia's friends, but also actual students at the university. Some had finally decided to take the plunge and found it to be more than worth it. She wondered if her name was on there somewhere.

"Oh! That's our new student cabinet!" Pinky answered happily, walking over to Teresa with a hot mug of tea in hand. He was stirring something into it. Honey, perhaps?

"Thank you," said Teresa, as he handed the cup to her. "So... those are all for us?"

"Mmhm! Fresh out of the box!" exclaimed Pinky, sitting down next to her.

"What's in them?"

"Oh, just little treats for you all. And it's a space to put your things in when you visit!"

"Really...?"

"Absolutely! Narf! And if you're extra good you might find a little prize in there now and again," said he, giving her a wink.

Teresa smiled. She couldn't help but smile. Ronald Pinkus couldn't be any kinder if he'd tried. In her opinion, he was the best teacher she'd ever known, and she'd known a lot of teachers.

"You're wonderful, Mr. Pinky," whispered Teresa, leaning her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes.

"Awwwww. Not as wonderful as you all! I'm truly grateful to have you as my students," he whispered softly back, an arm coming around to pull Teresa in for a hug, and he meant it.

"Oh, gracious! Look at the time!" Pinky blurted out, jumping back a little. Teresa's eyes popped open as she looked up at the clock. It said '11:51'. "Don't you have class in nine minutes?"

"Oh. A-A-Actually, it's not 'til one," admitted Teresa, standing up to smooth out her dress with one hand, the cup of tea in the other. "I just like to get to Globetrotter's classes early sometimes so I can study in peace."

"Mmm. Quiet in there, is it?" Pinky asked, crossing his legs as Teresa took a sip of what turned out to be peppermint, complete with honey. Delicious.

"Mmhm. I don't like him... really. And I came into class a bit too early today, but..."

She went silent for a moment, contemplating her tea.

"What is it?" inquired her teacher, looking concerned.

"Well... He... He seemed a bit... sad today."

"Sad?"

"He was crying, actually."

"Oh dear. Poit. What over, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm... not sure. But he was so upset that I caught him crying that he screamed at me to leave, so I did."

Pinky thought about this for a moment. For once, he didn't answer with a chipper response or a hearty smile. Instead, he appeared quite pensive, deep in contemplation. His brows were creased and his eyes shifted a little as he stared at the floor, as if recalling an old memory long forgotten. So lost was he to time that time... he forgot.

"Mr. Pinky...?"

He looked up, blinking.

"Are you all right?"

"Oh. Y-Yes! Yes, I'm fine."

Teresa was not convinced, but didn't press the matter further.

"Okay."

She took another sip of tea and set the mug on the table.

"Well, I... probably should get going for lunch. Thank you for the tea."

"Oh, of... of course! Come back any time, okay? If you'd ever like to study in peace, you're always welcome to come here in the mornings," offered Pinky, hope dancing playfully across his tone.

Teresa nodded. She opened the door, sighed, and turned back to look at the Trozologist.

"Mr. Pinky?"

"Hm?"

"Could you please talk to Mr. Globetrotter? He's not all bad. I think he just needs a friend."

Pinky smiled.

"Will do, Teresa."

Grinning, she left. Only then did Pinky let out the heavy sigh he'd been holding in. He stared at the back of his family's portrait, expression etched with worry. Why had that memory come up? That had been a bad one. Not at all fun-fun, silly willy. If he was going to serve his students with a smile he'd better learn to repress those thoughts a bit better.

Sighing, he stood up, arched his back, and downed the rest of the tea Teresa hadn't finished in several swift gulps. After that flashback, he needed it.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

4:08 PM

A long-fingered paw dug one of its fine-tipped nails into a divot in the rotary phone, pulling at it with great finesse. Then another. Then another.

A pause.

An opposite paw drummed its digits on the ebony surface of a desk, counting the seconds.

Four... five... six...

"Pick up, my dear," breathed out a sinister voice, its sweet, sing-song tone only coating what lied beneath.

A click.

"Hello?" came a feminine response, vivacious, piercing, and absolutely drenched in an accent that could only be described as "straight from the streets of Brooklyn".

"Billie! How are you?" greeted Snowball, in an almost mockingly chipper tone.

"What do you want, Bally?"

Snowball frowned.

"You know I don't like it when you call me that."

"Hmph. Be glad I don't call you anything worse. What do you want? I'm in the middle of a perm!"

"Then I'll keep it extra brief," the hamster said, rolling his eyes. As if he wanted to stay on with this floozy. "What would you say to a little party around, say, ohhhhhh, Halloween? Saturday on the thirtieth. Adults only, of course. Strictly professional."

"And why would I care about that? You know those old school parties are terribly dull! Besides, I thought you banned them?"

"I had a change of heart. Also, this one is a costume party, my dear. And I promise I won't invite any... mmm... problematic friends this time."

"You sure...? 'Cause last time you said Finnigan wasn't going to be there and guess who showed up! Making me look all embarrassed and everything, and right when I was meeting someone nice, too! And then there was the other time you set me up with someone you said was 'just perfect' for me, you said. 'Just perfect! Absolute smash'! He was a smash, all right. Smashed me right into the punch bowl! And then there wa-"

"All right, all right. I get the point," groaned Snowball, rubbing at his temple. He knew he'd hate this conversation, but he reminded himself that it would all be worth it in the end. "I promise that there will be no flim flams, no set ups, and no... errrrm... punch bowl incidents."

"You sure...?"

"Cross my heart, my dear. I'll even send a cab to pick you up."

There was silence on the other end for a spell, as if the she-mouse was heavily thinking it over.

"What's the catch?"

"Catch? There is no 'catch', my dear! I only wish to pay you back for that time you got me out of a sticky spot, is all. No catch! Just friendly reimbursement."

"Well... Okay. But you better not be having anything up your sleeve!" trilled the she-mouse.

"Oh, my dear," came the smooth tones of the principal, as he stood up from his chair, made for his office door, and peeked through a long stretch of blinds hanging upon it. As it happened, Globetrotter was rushing down the hallway and into a bathroom right at that moment. Snowball smirked. "If there is anything up my sleeve, it is nothing worth pondering."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

7:48 PM

Pinky rushed down the stairs to the basement, nearly tripping over his long tail.

He was late. Usually, he met up with Brian promptly at 7:30, but Olivia had found it of extra importance to give a run-down of every little detail involving her Halloween party, which, she'd reminded him repeatedly, was sure to be at least a hundred times more fun than the adult one. Normally, Pinky wouldn't have minded, but her timing was not particularly favorable.

The lanky professor straightened out his half-moon glasses, which were askew, as he reached the bottom, smoothing out his long, tea-stained lab coat, something that proved a bit difficult seeing how his arms were filled to the brim with all kinds of party supplies: bows, ribbons, wrapping paper, streamers, disposable cups, plates, utensils, and napkins, along with a latex balloon or two (fully blown, of course).

Skidding slightly down the hallway, he shuffled hastily past the elevator and knocked frantically against an empty stretch of gray wall which, he knew, housed behind it a long-brewed secret. In his panic, he'd forgotten that Globetrotter had installed a little hidden doorbell for him a week ago (he'd grown tired of the knocking; besides, it was more practical), and he knew that using the scan pad was of no use - Brian still didn't completely trust him. Huffing and panting, he yelled at the blank wall.

"Brain! I'm here! Oh, please open up." This last line he muttered to himself, dancing about on his tippy toes anxiously. "Please, Mr. Globetrotter! I'm sorry I'm late!"

In response, a door did open, but not the one he expected.

Pinky turned swiftly around as the elevator doors slid apart to reveal a woozy-looking Globetrotter. He wobbled a bit as he stepped off the contraption, taking a moment to lean against the wall, his eyes unfocused.

"Brain! Are you okay?!" Pinky asked, rushing over to him, balloons bopping about, a paper cup slipping out of his grasp to fall, clattering, to the floor.

Globetrotter stared up at Pinky; or, at least, he tried to. His mouth was slightly agape and he seemed to be having trouble focusing on the subject in front of him. In an attempt to ground himself on... something, he settled for gazing into the mouse's bright cerulean orbs. Gracious, they were blue. For some reason, this seemed to help.

"Yes, Pinky. I'm f-fine..," Brian hiccuped, steadying himself.

"You know, you really should see the doctor about that," mused Pinky, concerned.

"I'll be fine. The pills should.. -hic- .. 'elp."

Pinky frowned, not entirely convinced, as Globetrotter made for the scan pad and sloppily pressed his left paw upon it. It scanned him twice, beeped satisfactorily, and admitted them entrance into the laboratory. Pinky trotted in after Brian, the wall sliding closed behind them.

Not much had changed in the two weeks since Pinky had toppled headfirst into Globetrotter's secret hideout. The shelves were still mahogany, the potions still bubbled, and the mysterious contraption in the back of the room remained as cryptic as ever (Brian refused to tell him exactly what it was). Globetrotter had acquired a few more bits and bobs since, some of them courtesy of Pinky, including a box of peppermint tea (now half-way full) and a VHS of Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan, both of which, Brian discovered, he'd liked.

Globetrotter collapsed into his desk chair, undoing his belt despite there being a visitor present. Along with his condition had come an onset of gas and bloating every now and again. He felt like he was becoming a living experiment, and he hated every minute of it. Grabbing a small, orange, translucent bottle, Brian screwed off the cap, haphazardly knocked a couple of pills into an open paw, and tossed them into his mouth, swallowing them dry. One of the pills from the bottle fell to the floor.

"Oh! I've got it, Brain!" Pinky offered, ducking down to try and pick up the pill... and failing royally.

"For the last time, it's Brian," said Brian. "And wouldn't it be more efficacious for you to put down your haul first and then pick up the pill?"

"Zort! Good idea, Brain! Er... I mean Brian! Ha-ha!"

"You are such an idiot...," Globetrotter muttered, rolling his eyes as Pinky dumped his armful of stuff onto the floor, retrieved the pill, and inserted it back into the bottle. "Thank you," mumbled the stout little mouse, screwing the lid back on and replacing it on the desk.

"No problem!" saluted Pinky, returning to his haul.

Globetrotter turned his computer chair a touch, frowning at the collection of party goods. It seemed that Pinky wished to add a few more knick knacks to his treasure trove. Not that he particularly minded the dim-witted lank bringing stuff in; occasionally, he proved to have... some sort of taste. But this seemed excessive. And there were a lot of yellows. And pinks.

"Pinky, what is this?"

"What is what?" Pinky asked innocently, picking out a corner in which to organize his colorful cargo.

"This," indicated Brian with a hand. "All this junk."

"Oh, it's not junk, Brain. They're party supplies!"

"Like I said: junk. What on Earth are they for?"

"Well, for the party, of course. Duh. What did you think they would be for, Brain?" queried Pinky, throwing Globetrotter a quizzical look as he started hanging up the streamers.

"It's Bri-... Oh, never mind," sighed Globetrotter, relenting. "What party?"

"The 'taking over the world' party! Don't you want there to be a big celebration?"

"Oh..," Globetrotter faltered, realization striking him. "Yes, um, that party."

In truth, he still hadn't explained to Pinky exactly what was up his sleeve - that "taking over the world" was meant to be as literal as it sounded: taking over the world. Every night since Pinky's discovery of the lab, Brian had allowed him entrance almost nightly, giving him various tasks to do that helped him in his scheme: gathering strange odds and ends throughout the school or at shops and warehouses; keeping watch in the university hauls when he needed to lug something particularly suspicious down to the lab; or else grabbing him a cup of coffee from the cafeteria when he was running out of steam late into the night. And they would stay late: 'til 3:00 in the morning sometimes. Always, Pinky stuck with him as long as he needed. Blindly, he was under the impression that everything he was doing to help Brian was going towards a better future, and it was... for himself. Not that it was all in selfish gain. Brian did want to help the world - he wanted to improve the educational system, abolish various political branches, and generally bring all countries under his little pink thumb because, of course, the only one truly fit to rule the planet was himself. He could see it all in his head... and it was glorious. Pinky, on the other hand, wanted to solve world hunger, offer free medical treatment to every citizen, bring peace to all nations, spread the theory of Trozology (whatever the heck that even was...), and, for some reason, legalize cheesecake in every state. When Brian told him that he didn't think cheesecake was illegal in any state, Pinky simply shrugged, shook his head solemnly, and stated, "Oh, you don't know what they're like in Arizona, Brain...". Nincompoop.

And so Globetrotter played along with the misunderstanding, letting Pinky think that he was helping Brain in one thing when he was really assisting him in another, only now and again feeling a bit guilty of it. Besides, who was he to refuse a free lackey? Pinky was willing, and naive, a ripe combination for taking advantage of.

Unfortunately, today was one of those days in which he felt self-conscious about it, guilt lodging uncomfortably in his throat as he struggled to swallow it down. He'd been having more trouble with that lately.

"Just... keep it out of my way," he nipped, gray chair swiveling sharply as he turned back to type furiously upon a well-worn Model M.

"Right-o, Brain!" saluted Pinky once more, straightening out his lab coat.

As he did so, his lapel got caught on something. Pausing, he took a closer look at the culprit: his name badge. He unhooked it and smiled. There shone his address: Ronald J. Pinkus. Bright, bold... and blemished! Well, that simply wouldn't do. Frowning, Pinky breathed a steam of hot air onto the badge, fogging it up a little, before rubbing at the dirty little spot covering up the 'J' in his name. There. Much better. He turned it about... and noticed something else.

A magnet.

Huh...

He pulled it off; looked it over.

"Egad," he exclaimed. "What do you suppose that is?"

"Quiet, Pinky. I'm trying to concentrate."

"But, Brain!" Pinky insisted, thrusting it in front of Globetrotter's pug-ish face. "Look! It was on the back of my badge!"

"Pinky, would you..."

But at the sight of the "magnet", he went wide-eyed.

"Give me that!" Brian blurted out, swiping the tiny object from Pinky's dainty fingers.

"Oh! Is that yours, Brain? How do you suppose it got on there...?" Pinky mused to himself as Globetrotter assertively stuck the device into his coat chest pocket. It took a full ten seconds for realization to strike. He gasped. "Brain! Did you put that on me? Is it part of the plan?!"

"Uhhh... Y-Yes, it's a... um... personal attraction device. It attracts people to you whenever you wear it."

It was a lame excuse, but it worked well enough for Pinky. He gasped again in sudden understanding.

"Ohhhhhhhh! So that's why I've been getting so many students! Isn't it, Brain? It's a people magnet! How thoughtful of you, Brain!"

"Uhhhh... sure. Yes, that's... that's exactly it."

"May I, um, may I have it back?"

"No," Globetrotter stated flatly, not even looking at his cohort as he continued to smash keys.

At this, Pinky did something Globetrotter did not at all expect.

"Oh, please!" he crumbled, falling to his knees and literally begging, hands clasped and all. "Please, let me have it back! The students need me! I promise I'll take good care of it!"

All right. Maybe he should have expected this. It was Pinky, after all.

"No! I have to make some modifications to it first."

"H-How long will that take?"

"A couple of days."

"Two days?! But I have class tomorrow!"

"Well, you'll just have to go without it, then, won't you? Besides, I highly doubt you need a charm to remain magnetic," he grunted, almost enviously.

"Oh, please!" Pinky begged again. "What if the kids don't come if I'm not wearing it? W-What if all the teachers suddenly hate me? What if my whole career was for nothing!? Please, Brain! I don't want the tomato treatment!"

"Get off of me!" snapped Globetrotter, tugging the ends of his coat out of Pinky's clutches. "Tomato treatment. I don't even know what that is!"

"Getting booed off the stage, of course," said Pinky matter-of-factly.

"Oh, but of course. How stupid of me to not know," the science teacher groaned, sarcasm dripping from his reply. Was this idiot really that self-conscious?

"Please, Brain?" he asked, much more calmly. "I... I promise I won't bother you at your computer anymore... or bring party junk..."

His tone was desperate; miserable. It tugged at Brian's ears, incessant, until he finally succumbed to the cry, his piercing gaze creased in a frown as he turned slightly to stare at the pleading mouse.

Pinky was still on his knees, giving Globetrotter the puppy dog eyes something awful.

He sighed.

"Fine. I'll just... make a new one," he relented, pilfering the little device from his pocket and practically tossing it to Pinky, who caught it in both hands.

"Oh, thank you, Brain!" exclaimed the Trozologist ecstatically, hugging the "magnet" to his cheek. "I'll be careful with it! I promise!"

"Don't mention it," tossed Globetrotter offhandedly, adding with a mutter that only he heard: "As if I would've been able to fix it properly anyway..."

Pinky turned it over and over in his rose-tinted fingers, studying it carefully, as if it was a precious diamond extracted from the depths of the deepest cavern, and, to him, it rather was.

"Personal Attraction Device," he repeated, almost lovingly. "P.A.D. Pad! Ha-ha-ha! I'll be sure to always keep my pad on me, Brain!" he said, sticking the magnetic device back onto the backside of his badge and clipping the name tag to his coat.

Globetrotter cringed.

"Please don't say it like that..."

"Why not?"

"Because it... Ugh. Never mind," gave up Globetrotter. What was the point?

Shrugging, Pinky went back to putting away his party items, humming cheerily to himself as he did so. He made sure to put up the streamers in a place that was out of the way of Brain's main working spots, but still in an area where he'd see them. This ended up being above and around the legs of the test tube shelf - the pinks, blues, and greens nicely complemented the lilacs, oranges, and turquoise hues of the potions scattered throughout. Next, he tucked the wrapping paper and cellophane underneath the same shelf, more hidden from view, but still accessible. Then he bent down to pick up the paper plates and cups. Hmm. He really should have gotten a bag for this. Perhaps he could grab one from his classroom?

Standing up, he bumped into a streamer (he was a rather tall mouse, after all), touching it lightly to keep it from rocking back and forth.

"So sorry, little streamer!", he uttered, before making for the exit. "Brain? May I go get something from my classroom?"

"Mmhm," muttered Globetrotter, not taking his eyes off the blazing monitor.

"Thank you! I'll be back!"

He pressed a dark red button on a spot on the wall, which immediately allowed him exit, and stepped outside. With a swoosh the wall closed behind him. As soon as he was beyond the lab, he made for the stairs, pausing to observe a couple of stray pieces of streamer that had fallen in the hallway. They were yellow, like dandelions. He picked up the little dandelions, smiling as he turned them about with his fingers. Yellow was such a pretty color. It reminded him of the sun, and of bright school buses, and of yummy frosting that one put on cakes and...

He paused, staring out into nothing.

Cake.

Streamers.

Party.

Oh, shoot...

He'd almost forgotten about his promise to Snowball - his promise to somehow get Brain to go to the Halloween gathering. He was glad no one was around to see the worry drape slowly across his face; to see the fear in his eyes.

How in the whirly winds was he going to get Brain to attend? Brain barely allowed pinks and blues into his study, let alone permit himself to participate in a full on party. Then again, he did seem to enjoy himself a little more than expected during Pinky's game show. Perhaps he'd like similar fair?

Sighing, Pinky dragged himself up the stairs one step at a time (he still preferred the long way over the elevator), his shuffles echoing creepily across the empty halls as he reached the first floor. This was going to require a bit more effort than he thought...

Opening the door of Room 210, he flicked on the lights and rummaged about for a bag, only to locate none at all. He looked about. In a corner sat the empty box, the same one he and the kids often used for adventurous expeditions. That would have to do. He'd get another box tomorrow.

Scooping up the box in his arms, he left the room and traveled all the way back - past the elevator, down the stairs, and up to the completely unassuming solid wall. He knocked, loudly, three times.

Swoosh!

In he stepped, stumbling a little over his feet in haste.

"Got the box!" he piped, shuffling past Brain, who was still furiously typing on his keyboard, and plopping his cargo onto the floor.

Globetrotter barely answered with more than a grunt, not bothering to look around as Pinky began to stuff the extra party supplies into the cardboard container before pushing it up against the wall. There. Perfect. Organized and out of the way, just like Brain wanted it! He gave a jerky little nod in satisfaction.

"All done!" Pinky addressed Globetrotter, receiving no reply.

With a nervous little step forewarned, Pinky tried again...

"So, um... What are we going to do tonight, Brain?"

"Must you ask that every time?" Globetrotter bit, still not looking around.

Pinky blinked a little at the bite, but otherwise ignored it.

"Well, you know, I was thinking, Brain, we're always doing the same thing every night. What if we did something... different?"

"Like what?"

"Well... um...," Pinky faltered, gaze sweeping the room, as if searching for a stall from which to buy time. "Maybe w-"

"If you're thinking of inviting me to that asinine Halloween party you can take your solicitation elsewhere."

Welp.

"You sure?" he pressed on anyway, ears drooping.

"Affirmative."

"Oh. Okay..."

There was an awkward pause, in which Pinky shuffled his feet, fingers drumming behind his back to the rhythm of Brain's incessant typing in an effort to preoccupy himself with something.

"And I don't need your services tonight," Brian continued. "I need to perfect this formula. You can go."

"Oh. Um. Sure, Brain. I'll go..."

He trudged to the door, his right hand serving as a calming agent as he rubbed it steadily up and down his left arm.

"Pinky?"

Pinky stopped and looked over his shoulder, his ears perking up.

"You can take this back. I don't need it."

And he tossed at him a small, round object, which Pinky caught reflexively. He looked down at it and frowned sadly. It was a stress ball. He'd gotten it for Brian last week, in "the hope that it would help". Apparently, it hadn't...

Silently, Pinky tucked the little ball gently into his long lab coat pocket, pressed the red button on the wall, and exited. Globetrotter hadn't even bothered to say good night, and neither did he.

Once in the hallway, Pinky leaned against the now closed wall and sighed heavily. Weathered comments from various school staff skipped one after another in his head, like television commercials.

"I don't know why you bother hanging out with him. He doesn't care about anyone but himself."

"He's a fart and he's a good one. Listen, honey, the only way you're going to get his attention is if you leave him alone."

"Oh, I wouldn't bother with Globetrotter. Nothing good ever comes of it. It's not the first time he's run off a student and it won't be the last. I just wish they'd oust him entirely, but the system is too complicated for that..."

"My good fellow, that's one angry mouse you don't want to deal with. Take it from me: I've been here long enough to see the birch grow from a sapling to a tree, and in all that time I've never once seen him treat anyone with a shred of decency."

Pinky sighed again. Perhaps he was simply chasing a ghost. He knew it was foolish to persevere, to try and make friends with the unfriendly, but he couldn't help it. It was in his nature to show compassion for others, to love them, no matter the situation. He'd never yet met an individual that outright treated him like dirt, or that he hadn't eventually won over with kindness, but Globetrotter was proving to give him a run for his money. Perhaps it wasn't worth it...

Sniffing, he removed the tears he'd let pool for some time and dolefully slid his way down the hall, one hand buried deep in his coat pocket, massaging the little stress ball that, like him, was so very unwanted.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

October 28th, 1993 - 3:20 PM

The "magnet" worked like a charm. In fact, it worked better the longer he had it on. Brain was a genius, Pinky thought, as he strummed a guitar for a total of twenty-five students that sat around a campfire in the woods, all of them singing a song about a beaver who had lost its fur. Crickets chirped merrily in the hot summer night, the soothing sound of a lake drifted lazily somewhere behind them, and every now and again an owl hooted. No one could ever have guessed that they were really in the middle of a classroom in the heart of a bustling university... and during the day, no less.

One fur, two fur, three fur, four! What's the count? He'll lose a bit more!

Five fur, six fur, seven and eight! Watch your back! It's shedding its cape!

Two more silly verses finished off the song as Pinky and company ended the tune with raucous laughter.

"Oh, good job, everyone! That was splendid!" Pinky congratulated them, clapping joyously. To him, this was heaven. Here people were happy, here he was loved, and he intended for it to stay that way. He rubbed at his name tag subconsciously. "All right. What should we play next?"

Immediately, several camp-goers piped up, including Teresa, Marvell, and, of course, Olivia. The number of college student outnumbered the kids now. Olivia still brought her usual friends, of course, but Teresa had convinced some companions of her own to join. She'd gotten Red to participate, and he had told Marvell... whom had told Gadget... whom had told several others, and now there was a good number of university pupils who, when they were able, joined Pinky promptly at 2:00 PM for an expedition to adventure. Thursdays were particularly good days, as most had classes that ran up until 2:30 at the latest, and this particular Thursday every single one of them had been able to come right at the stroke of 2:00.

"Oh! Oh! Can we play a game?" Marvell asked, to which several others nodded, murmuring their agreement.

"We could sing some more. How about 'Old Dan Tucker'? I like that song," mentioned Timothy, a bit quietly.

"May we hear a ghost story, Mr. Pinky?" Teresa queried.

That seemed to get most students' attention. Almost all of the college kids seconded this suggestion. The kids, however, didn't seem enthused.

"Ha-ha. All right! But this time, someone else has to tell it!" Pinky said. "And make sure it's not too scary! We do have some little ones present."

"I'm not scared!" Olivia burst out. As always, she sat right next to Pinky.

"I know you're not, Olivia," her teacher mused, taking her nose between his fingers and lightly shaking her head playfully.

"I'll tell it!" offered a boy rat. His name was Peter, and, at seventeen, he was the oldest in the group (besides Pinky).

"Just don't make it too scary," said Marvell, pulling her jean-covered legs tightly up to her chest in preparation. She'd been on too many family camping trips to know that when someone said a spooky story wouldn't be too frightening, it almost always was.

"Yeah. Not too scary...," wee Cynthia whispered, cuddling up closer to her big brother.

"All right. Not too scary," Peter conceded. "Hmmmm. Okay! I got one."

The group went quiet. All eyes were on Peter.

"It was a dark and stormy night..."

"Oh, come ooooooon," several in the group whined, mostly the teenagers.

Peter laughed.

"Ha-ha. I'm kidding! I'm kidding! Okay. Ummm...," he coughed, then went on. "No one knew what the beast looked like. They knew that he was loud, and he was scary, and he could destroy your entire life in just one second, or so the stories went, but no one knew anything about how he looked. Until one day... a bunch of kids got curious."

Already Cynthia was half-hidden behind Timothy, one eye peeking out in trepidation. A couple in the class rolled their eyes, as if they'd heard this story before, but had the decency to not spoil it. A few were on the edge of their seats, eyes wide in wonder.

"It was Lucy, a small field mouse, who entered the cave first. She was the youngest of the group, but she was also the bravest. In she crept, bit by bit, the others sloooowly following after her. 'Courage,' she said. 'The beast can smell fear.' No one dared to breath any louder than necessary. He might come from any corner; attack from any moment."

Olivia sat with a graham cracker half-way to her mouth. Teresa was as still as a statue.

"Then, suddenly, from out of the corner: FWOOSH!"

Several of the kids, and even a few of the students, gasped, jumping back in their seats. Red nearly fell off his chair, and Cynthia had completely disappeared behind her brother at this point.

"The beast... had arrived! Lucy stood before him, shaking like a leaf as he rose up onto his hind legs to stare at her straight in the eyes. He looked nothing at all like she expected; in fact, he almost looked like one of them. But he had a harsh, piercing gaze that burrowed deep into your soul, telling you all the things you never wanted to hear with just a look.

Lucy stared up into the beast's dark red eyes, bearing down on her, and knew what she had to do.

'I have come to destroy you!' she yelled, steadfast and resolute.

'Ohhhh?' asked the beast, with a low, threatening growl. 'And just how are you going to do that?'

'With this!' said Lucy, and she drew from behind her out of thin air a book. 'With the power of words!'

And the book did have a lot of words. All kinds of words! Big words. Small words. Really, really long, hard-to-pronounce words. Words so foreign they would make a librarian faint. Because if there was one thing that everybody did know about the beast, it was that he was a master at English, and he loved challenges, and it was said that if you could beat him in a spelling bee, he would be defeated forever.

The beast sneered at the girl - an ugly, vicious smile that made the tips of Lucy's pretty fur curl up into knots. But she didn't move. She stood her ground.

'I challenge you to a fight!' young Lucy challenged.

'Ohhhhh? What kind of fight?' snarled the beast.

'A spelling bee fight! If I win, you'll be gone forever!'

The beast laughed. His chuckle sent chills up her spine, and the other kids behind her trembled in fear.

'Fight you may, but win you will not! I accept your challenge!' he agreed, and out of nowhere came a woman's voice in the darkness, soft and smooth... and just a tiny bit creepy.

'Challengers, be prepared. This battle is not for the faint of heart. All forms of cheating are banned.'

And as she said this, Lucy's book disappeared with a POP. The voice continued.

'Get ready, Lucy. Your first word is: Pontificate.'

Lucy was ready.

'Pontificate. P. O. N. T. I. F. I. C. A. T. E. Pontificate.'

'Correct,' came the robot voice of the woman.

Lucy breathed out a sigh of relief.

The woman's voice spoke again.

'Get ready, G. Your first word is: Ignoramus.'

Lucy looked puzzled. 'G'? What could the 'G' stand for?

'Ignoramus. I. G. N. O. R. A. M. U. S. Ignoramus,' breathed out the Beast in his low growl.

'Correct,' said the woman, and Lucy groaned.

And so it kept going, on and on, seemingly forever. The kids cheered Lucy on. She was doing really well! She passed the first round, then the second round. Just three rounds left to go. It was looking like she might do it. She could beat the Beast!"

By now, most students were on the edge of their seats, Pinky included. Even Cynthia had peered out a little, the better to hear. Peter continued.

"She kept going.

'Quixotic.'

'Correct!'

'Bohemian.'

'Correct!'

Things seemed to be going great! But on the next word... she flubbed.

'Surreptitious. S. E. R. E. P. T. I. T. I. O. U. S. Surreptitious.'

'INCORRECT.'

Lucy gasped. The Beast laughed.

She got the next one right, but the Beast won the third round. And then he won the fourth. They were tied."

"Oh no...," Cynthia breathed out, shivering.

"If she could win this one, she'd beat the Beast," continued Peter. "All she had to do was win one more round...

So she kept going.

Last round. Seven words. She got two, then missed the third. The beast got three, then missed on his fourth. At the end, they were tied three-to-three. It was the last word. Her last chance.

The Beast went first.

'G, here is your last word,' spoke the woman. 'Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.'

Lucy's eyes went wide. What kind of a word was that?! She didn't know what it meant, much less how to spell it. If that's what the Beast got, what the heck was she going to get?!

The Beast just smiled.

'Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis,' he began, and proceeded to spell out the whole thing perfectly, down the last letter.

'Correct,' cooed the woman, and the Beast giggled evilly.

Lucy gulped.

'Lucy, get ready. Here is your last word.'

She was shivering from her fuzzy gray ears all the way down to her long pink tail. The kids behind her offered words of encouragement, but she barely heard them.

And then came the woman's voice again:

'Euouae.'

Lucy blinked. Compared to the Beast's word, hers was significantly shorter, but how was she going to spell that? It sounded like all vowels!

The Beast smirked. It didn't help.

But Lucy gave it a shot.

'Euouae. E. U. O. E. A. E. Euouae.'

The troop waited with baited breath. So did Lucy.

And then the woman's voice came.

'INCORRECT.'

The kids gasped. Lucy's mouth dropped. She was off. She was off by ONE LETTER!

'Incorrect!" repeated the Beast, laughing maniacally. 'Now you're mine!'

Lucy ran. So did the other kids. Oh, she ran as fast as her legs could carry her! Faster even!"

"Come on, Lucy!" some of the kids around the campfire cheered, egging their imaginary comrade on. "You can do it!"

Even Pinky joined in.

"Hurry, Lucy! You can do it! Run!"

Peter kept on...

"She could see the exit of the cave! All the kids surpassed her, running out before she could reach it. How were they so fast?! It seemed like the faster they ran, the slower she went. But she kept running... and running! She was almost there!"

"Yeah! Come on, Lucy!," yelled Timothy.

"But then...!

SLAM!

The Beast pinned her to the floor!

Poor Lucy struggled... and struggled, but she couldn't get up.

The Beast smiled wide... opened its jaws... and CHOMP! He SWALLOWED HER WHOLE!"

Most all around the campfire gasped.

"Poor Lucy... was no more."

Behind Timothy, Cynthia was sniffing.

"All of the kids outside the cave stared back at the Beast, terrified at what they had just seen. And the Beast stared back at them.

'Let this be a lesson to you all!' he said. 'That if you're not prepared, like I was, you will tremble and suffer the wrath... of Globetrotter!'

The end!"

"Globetrotter?!" some of the students gasped out.

"Ohhhhhhh. So that's what the 'G' stood for!" pointed out Red, impressed.

"That was a really good story," whispered Teresa, still a little shook up.

"Not much of a ghost story, though," Timothy piped up.

"But it was scary," put in Marvell, frowning. "Peter, you said it wasn't gonna be too scary!"

Peter simply shrugged, smiling.

"Soooo... the cave was Globetrotter's classroom, Lucy and the kids represented all of us, and the spelling bee is the hard tests he gives us that we can never ace?" guessed Gadget.

"Yup," said Peter.

"That was pretty clever."

"It was accurate," whispered a pointy-nosed mouse timidly. It was Ms. Penelope Mayhew. She sat next to Gadget and looked a bit more disturbed than the rest.

"So, you all see Globetrotter as a... beast?" Pinky asked, looking just a touch concerned.

"Doesn't everyone?" mentioned Marvell.

"Well, that's not very nice," said Pinky, frowning at them all. "You shouldn't speak badly of your teachers."

"But it's true," said Gadget. "He terrorizes all of his students and no one ever does anything about it! The only reason we pass our classes is because of the support of the other teachers. They help keep us sane when we're working our butts off."

"And they have to keep reminding Globetrotter that he has to pass some students, otherwise it might start looking bad on his record," Peter put in. "He just likes making things as hard as possible."

"He's... not all that bad," murmured Teresa. "When you get to know him."

But no one else could agree.

"I know that Brain can be a bit... harsh, but I don't think he means to hurt anyone," Pinky said.

"That's easy for you to say," Peter continued. "You're a teacher. Try being one of his students."

"It's not easy, Mr. Pinky," said Teresa. "There's a reason why we come to your classes so often."

"It's a solace," said Penelope. "From him."

"And from the workload," mentioned Gadget. "Also, you're just... super cool," she added, smiling at him.

"Yeah, you're awesome, Mr. Pinky," said Red.

"Yeah, you're so cool!" they all pitched in.

"He's the best," Olivia said, giving Pinky a tight squeeze of a side hug.

Pinky sniffed, blinking back tears.

"Awwww. Thank you all. Narf! I love you, too!" he sniffed again, wiping at his face.

Every face around the campfire was bright, and beaming, and smiling, the love in the room so thick one could cut it with a knife. Pinky had never felt so appreciated in his life, and he wondered if this was the work of the "magnet"... or if it was really real. Somehow, deep down, he didn't think even a super special device could work magic like this. It felt honest. Pure.

"May I ask for your advice on something?" queried Pinky, swallowing and smiling back at them all.

"Sure. Go ahead!" they agreed.

"Well, you see, Olivia here needs her baseball stadium built. And we all want sports to come back to the school, right?"

"Yeah!" exclaimed some of the students. Some, not all.

"Well, the principal said that he would do it, but only if we could get Globetrotter to come to the teachers' Halloween party this weekend."

"On Saturday?" asked Gadget.

"Mmhm. And that's in two days and I still haven't thought of a way of getting him to come. But I thought, well, maybe you guys would have some ideas?"

A steady silence draped across the class as they thought long and hard about this.

"Hmmm. What if you bribed him?" offered Gadget. "Like... offer to pay for something he really wants or whatever if he'll come to the party?"

"Mmmm... maybe. He does like nice things, but I don't think that would work," said Pinky sadly.

"He's right," Peter said. "It takes a lot to bribe Globetrotter. I don't think he'd fall for it."

"What if you... you... asked the... the prince-pal to make him come?" squeaked little Cynthia.

"The principal is the one who wants Pinky to do the asking, Cynthia," said Timothy.

"You could... like... drag him there," Marvell joked. "Tie a bunch of ropes around him and stuff."

"Yeah, like, blackmail him!" voiced a boy hamster named Lucas. "Tell him that you'll show them the pictures if he doesn't attend the party."

"The pictures?" asked Pinky confusedly, cocking his head.

"Yeah, like in the movies! You know how they'll like... say to someone: 'Hey. I've got these embarrassing pictures of you, and if you don't do what I want then I'll show them to everybody!'"

"Oh..."

"Too strong," said Marvell.

"Yeah, that's too much," agreed Gadget.

"Wait... Wait," said Peter, sitting up straight. "What if... you scare him?"

"Scare him?" asked Pinky.

"But Globetrotter isn't scared of anything!" Teresa voiced.

"No, okay. Wait. Listen: What if there is something that scares him? He prizes his dignity, right? What if you scared him into feeling like he's missing out or that he's not "cool enough" or something if he doesn't go to the party?"

"I dunno...," Pinky hesitated.

"Oh my gosh. Wait. That's actually kinda brilliant," Gadget added. "Like... make it sound like only the most elite are going to go to this party."

"But everyone's going to the party!" Pinky said. "Even me!"

"Then tell him there's gonna be an awards ceremony or something - only the best will get noticed and he's got to be there."

"B-But... I didn't organize a ceremony with it!"

"Then make one up!" Lucas said.

"Yeah, just make one up!" agreed Peter. "He'll be tripping over himself just to look as dope as possible!"

"Yeah, you should do it!" others joined in.

Pinky looked nervous. He wasn't a liar. He'd have to add a ceremony last minute.

"Please, Mr. Pinky?" Olivia asked, laying a delicate paw on his.

He stared at her and sighed, smiling. How could he resist those eyes?

"All right," he whispered, first to her, then to the whole group: "All right. I'll do it!"

Shouts of "woo!"s and "yaaaay!"s resounded about their comfy forest campfire. It was settled.

Pinky breathed out another heavy sigh, smoothing his hair back in trepidation.

"Phew. I hope I don't regret this! Eheheh!"

"Don't worry. He's too egotistical to think about anyone other than himself," Gadget said as she roasted a marshmallow. "There's no way he'll be able to resist."

"Yeah. If there's anything Globetrotter loves more than himself, it's laudation," said Peter.

But that, Pinky thought, is where Peter was wrong. He didn't think Globetrotter loved himself. In fact, from what he could see, it was the exact opposite.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

October 29th, 1993 - 7:29 PM

As it happened, Pinky waited until the last possible second to throw his offer to Globetrotter, partially because he was scared, and partially because... Well, all right. If he was being honest with himself, all of it was because he was scared. He wasn't as intimidated by Globetrotter as the students were, but there were still times when he felt like he'd get his hand bitten off if he didn't play his cards right.

Mercifully, Globetrotter was in a good mood tonight, as Pinky quickly discovered as he slipped past the laboratory entrance. The part mathematician, part science teacher kicked his feet back and forth in his gray computer chair, the seat squeaking about, happy little skips punctuating his typing as he smiled at the green-tinted monitor satisfactorily.

"Afternoon," he greeted Pinky, the lanky professor making to sit down in his usual corner spot on the floor near the bookcase. (There was only one chair, and Brian couldn't be bothered to buy a second.) "Pinky, I have just made a breakthrough of paramount proportions!"

"Ooooo. What is it, Brain?"

"It is far too intellectual for your primitive mind to comprehend," said Globetrotter cheerily as he hopped out of his chair and paced around the room. Not even a mispronunciation of his name could bother him this time. "But I can assure you that it will aid deeply in furthering along our plan!"

"Egad! Brilliant, Brain!" Pinky exclaimed, his legs criss-crossed and his hands tucked into them as he gazed up at Globetrotter in awe.

"Yes, I find it quite impressive myself," Globetrotter mused as he rubbed at his nails haughtily. "It's a shame the school doesn't recognize such talent; otherwise, I very likely wouldn't have to hide these contraptions behind walls."

There was his opening. Pinky took a deep breath.

"You know, y-you're right, Brain."

"Hm?" Globetrotter hummed, turning around to stare at Pinky.

"I was just saying that I think you're right, Brain! It's absolutely a crime that they don't recognize your true intelligence and ingeniousness. Downright despicable!"

Globetrotter raised an eyebrow, but otherwise continued on as normal.

"Yes. As long as I am confined within these halls, I am doomed to forever be seen as a mere academic professional. At least I've attained some form of respect amongst my colleagues."

"You know, it's a shame that you won't be coming to the party, Brain, what with the awards ceremony and all that," Pinky mused, copying Brian's little "finger studying" technique, eyes half-lidded in an attempt to look positively bored out of his mind about the whole matter.

"Awards ceremony...? What ceremony?"

"Hm? Oh, I thought you knew, Brain?"

"I do not. You never mentioned a ceremony."

"Hmph," Pinky shrugged. "Must have slipped my mind at the time. Everyone's been talking about it. They're going to be giving out trophies to the most acclaimed faculty members. 'Most Influential.' 'Most Respected' and all that..."

"Huh."

"Everyone's going, as far as I know," Pinky continued, as nonchalantly as possible, as he picked dirt out from under his nails. "But I understand you not wanting to attend. It's kind of a silly idea. People are saying that Basil is probably going to win 'Most Knowledgeable' and probably some other trophies as it is, so I don't think there'll be much competition. Zort..."

"Basil?! That nincompoop? He can barely tell the difference between polyester and palladium!"

Pinky simply shrugged again.

"Like I said, Brain. It's not your cup of tea."

Brain snorted, looking contemplative. He angrily stuck his hands in his pockets as his thoughts stuck firmly to everything Pinky had just said.

Parties, especially costume ones, were pointless. Stupid. A complete waste of time. He'd rather be counting dominoes than humiliating himself in front of a bunch of idiots who had nothing better to do than flash nails and tip bottles. He half-wondered if Pinky was pulling his leg; after all, why would Basil, of all people, attend such a soiree, if it could even be called that? Both he and Mr. Ages had said they would never be caught dead at such an event. Then again, it wasn't the first time he'd known Basil to say he wouldn't do one thing only to end up doing it anyway. He remembered the disco party pictures of '89...

His eyes shifted furtively to Pinky, who had busied himself with a very dusty book from the shelf: How to Win Friends and Influence People. Brian sighed.

"Perhaps I should rethink my decision..."

"Hm? Come again?" Pinky asked, only half-heartedly looking up from his book.

"I said that I...," Brian blurted out, then sighed, trying to calm down. "Fine. I'll go to your stupid party."

"REALL-," Pinky began, then coughed, getting a hold of himself, eyes shifting in the hopes that Globetrotter hadn't noticed. "I mean, that's cool. Sounds good."

"But I'm not dressing up."

"Oh, that's okay! I'm probably not going to either. Eheh. Poit."

Nothing more was said for the rest of the night, Pinky retiring early at the stroke of 8:00 PM with the excuse that he needed to "catch up on his sleep". As soon as he was past the wall, he leaned against it, slid down a little, and siiiiiighed...

PHEW.

Goodness.

He buried his face in his hands. That was the most he'd ever lied since he was eighteen years old and had told his dad that he'd simply dented the truck when he'd actually totaled it. He made a note in his head to tell as many teachers as possible tomorrow that there was going to be an awards ceremony and that he would be holding it. He'd have to get to school extra early. No matter. It was worth it. Olivia and her baseball stadium were worth it.

Gathering himself, he shakily whistled a monotonous little tune and headed for the stairwell.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

October 30th, 1993 - 5:30 PM

A 1980s Dodge Caravan, its long, green stripe wrapping around its battered and bruised body, whined a little as it pulled up to 2154 Whipple St. Inside, the shuffling of paper crinkled about as a large map of Burbank was laid out over the steering wheel, a finger snaking steadily over it as it searched for its destination. A-ha. There it was. It tapped satisfactorily at a specific point on the map. Yes, this was definitely the place.

A lanky mouse in a yellow and orange striped suit, complete with boater hat and cane, stepped out of the vehicle, not bothering to lock it as he stepped past the neatly-trimmed lawn, rows of azaleas, and romantically-lit fountain to tread his long, flat feet under an archway and upon the red brick porch of a spotless two-story house. Clearing his throat, he extended a finger, rang the doorbell, and waited.

Globetrotter, it turned out, had not showed up for his Saturday morning class. Nor, it seemed, for his 1:00 PM session. In fact, he hadn't made an appearance at the school at all that day. The students, of course, considered this a blessing. Pinky, however, had grown worried. Had something happened? He didn't get the call until 4:00 PM. Not only had his car stalled, as Globetrotter had angrily explained over the pay phone, but it had to be taken to the shop for repairs. Globetrotter had been stuck at the shop for hours and would have to walk home, of all things. Pinky, of course, had offered to take him home himself, but Globetrotter had flat out refused. It was embarrassing enough to miss his own classes, let alone receive transportation services. At least he still had control of his feet.

And so Pinky had dropped the matter, offering, at the very least, to pick Brian up half-an-hour prior to the party, to which Globetrotter had neither refused nor given the go-ahead. He simply assumed that after a bit of rest, he might still want to attend, and so here he was, standing upon Brian's doorstep, hoping that he'd be in the mood to at least spend an hour or two in festive enjoyment.

It took a full minute for Globetrotter to answer the door, and when he did it was in his bright red smoking jacket and half-moon glasses, complete with steaming coffee mug and a very worn out expression indeed.

"Afternoon!" Pinky waved, as cheerily as possible.

Globetrotter looked him up and down, as if trying to register the fact that someone was standing on his doorstep (and with a cane and boating hat, no less), as he gave him a slow, sleepy blink of the eyes, his mouth slightly open.

"Evening," Brian corrected. "What are... are...," he dragged out, interrupted by a wide, gaping yawn. "What are you doing here?"

"Um. It's the Halloween party tonight! Remember, Brain? Yo-You said you'd come..."

Brian sighed.

"Pinky, I had to walk half an hour to my house from the shop in my good suit and pants in eighty-five degree weather in the middle of the city. I have no idea when my car is going to be repaired, nor if I'll be able to get to work on Monday, or if I'll even still have a job by next week. So if you think, that after all that, I'd still want to go to some dumb employee party late into the night, you've got another thing coming."

Each word of this spiel had become more and more punctuated as it went on, Brian's voice rising just slightly higher with each enunciated syllable, and Pinky's ears drooping further and further down the longer he spoke, until they were practically flat against his head. Globetrotter ignored this.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I shall bid you good night," he ended, making to close the door.

But something kept it from shutting. A foot.

Brian looked up into the face of the culprit, and Pinky looked so positively pitiful, so desperately forlorn, that even he, the most ruthless professor in all of Burbank (and quite possibly California), couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit of guilt.

"Please, Brain?" whimpered the heart-broken mouse.

Something stirred in Globetrotter. Something... he couldn't explain. He'd felt it before in front of this individual. Pity, was it? Or, dare he say it, compassion? Whatever it was, it wouldn't leave. It was positively annoying.

Brian sighed again.

"Fine," he relented. "It's not like this day could get any worse anyway. Might as well cap it off..."

"So you'll come?!" Pinky exclaimed excitedly, his frown replaced with a bright and innocent smile.

"Don't get too comfortable," Brian warned. "This is the first and last party I attend at this school. Got it?"

"Yes, Brain! I've got it! Oh, thank you, Brain!"

And he actually hugged him.

Brian simply stood there, stunned, as he was quite suddenly and tightly embraced. He gasped as Pinky let go of him, gazing up into those brilliantly blue eyes for a moment before smoothing out his jacket, pointing a shaky finger at the mouse, and stating, in the most shocked tone possible, "Don't... do that again."

"Hm hm. Sorry, Brain!" Pinky chuckled, smiling.

"I'll... get my coat," muttered Globetrotter after a pause, looking somewhat lost as he wandered almost drunkenly into his sitting room... and leaving the front door wide open.

"May I come in?" Pinky asked, peeking his head 'round the frame to peer into the elaborately-decorated front room.

"Uhhhh... Sure," Brian admitted him, strolling past the sitting area and into a side room, where he flicked on a light. Pinky could hear him shuffling about in a closet for his coat.

With a gay little hop, Pinky skipped across the welcome mat and into the main entryway, taking care to shut out the dry and slightly humid air. Stepping down tenderly onto the thin, cream-colored carpet (which was absolutely free of any spot or blemish whatsoever), he sat down in a newly upholstered chair and went about studying the room.

His first impression was that this was a place that equal parts had definite aspects of Globetrotter's personality... and also felt nothing like him at all. If anything, it looked like something his mother or a housewife would have had a hand in. The sitting room was rectangular in shape, with four thick white and rose-patterned ottomans surrounding a mahogany table set with a couple of heavy books on scientific theories, plus one magazine on Godiva Chocolates. Against one wall lay a forest green couch, flanked on either side by cherry wood bookshelves and a warm lamp. Indeed, the place seemed to be dotted with bookshelves here and there, all of them filled to the brim with tomes, novels, magazines, and, strangely, bad romance fiction. Tastefully peppered about the walls themselves were hyper-realistic, black-and-white illustrations of various "shots of life" - a man fishing; patrons in a coffee shop; a woman waiting longingly for someone at a train station. And somewhere, in a distant room, he could hear the sounds of what he assumed to be Mozart or Bach playing lightly. He never cared for Classical much, but still hummed along and tapped his hands upon his knees to the tune all the same.

Pinky stared up at the high ceiling, which, he knew, most likely hid a second floor. He'd noticed the steps to his left upon entering the house. He longed to explore more of this interesting abode, but knew that it would be rude to ask, and so he simply sat quietly as Globetrotter picked out just the right coat.

He turned at a sharp cough.

To Pinky, "throwing on a coat" would have meant exactly that, regardless of the under-attire. Globetrotter, however, was decked out in his absolute best: iron-pressed black pants, a fancy suit and tie with a black overcoat, and dance shoes that clicked and clacked across the upper wooden floor. He looked, for lack of a better word, snazzy.

"Ooooo. You look riveting, Brain!"

"I think the proper term you're looking for is 'ravishing'," Globetrotter corrected, buttoning up his jacket. "Can we get this over with?"

"Right-o, Brain!" said Pinky, standing up and making for the door. "Your house is lovely, by the way. Poit! Did you design it yourself?"

"Thank you," came Globetrotter's dry reply. "And, yes, I added most of the decorations."

"Smashing!"

Globetrotter gave him a look and rolled his eyes. He made it a point to turn off every single light in the house, as well as the music, before exiting along with Pinky. They stepped over the doormat.

"And your mat is very lovely, too," Pinky commented, admiring the very cozy, cursive "Home Sweet Home" writing, complete with roses.

"Thank you. My mother bought it for me...," said Globetrotter, a slight groan in his voice.

Pinky stifled a chuckle. Well, he'd been right about the motherly touch.

The distant sound of traffic could be heard as they skipped (or, in Globetrotter's case, trudged) across the well-kept yard and up to Pinky's not-so-well-kept clunker. Like a gentleman, Pinky insisted that he open Globetrotter's door for him, but Globetrotter refused.

"I'm perfectly capable of opening my own door," he replied, opening it up, sliding into the leather passenger seat, and slamming the door shut behind him.

Pinky frowned sadly at this, but otherwise shook it off as he slipped into the driver's seat, closed his own door, and started the car... and not without some difficulty. It took a few tries to get the engine churning properly. Globetrotter wrinkled his nose, repulsed, not just at the age of the vehicle, but at its smell, which reeked of old pizza. It hadn't been kept particularly clean either. Brian nudged aside a stray straw wrapper on the ground with his foot. He noticed something else: the stress ball he'd given back to Pinky. It had been tucked into an empty pocket beneath the car radio. He felt a twinge of regret at this. In an attempt to get his mind off of such a feeling, he turned his attention back to the car.

"This is how you travel?" he queried, arms folded, not at all amused. "Incredible."

"Why, thank you! She does get a little tired from long trips, but you can make it there and back, can't you, old girl?" encouraged the lanky mouse.

Sure enough, the third time was the charm.

"Atta girl, Phar!"

"Phar?"

"Mmhm! I named her Pharfignewton, like in the commercials!"

Globetrotter rolled his eyes. Incredible. He highly doubted this thing could get them from his house to the closest gas station, much less all the way to the party. As if things couldn't get any worse. But then Pinky put in the CD.

"Woo! Let's get ready to rumbllllllle!" Pinky shouted out, Brian covering his ears as "Back in the U.S.S.R." began to blaze out of the speakers, bouncing off the windows, doors, seats, and into the deepest crevices of Brian's eardrums.

"Really? The Beatles?!" he protested loudly. He had to shout; one could barely hear themselves talk, let alone think, over the blasting drums and guitar chords.

Pinky answered... in falsetto.

"Ohhh!

Flew in from Miami Beach B.O.A.C. Didn't get to bed last night On the way the paper bag was on my knee Man, I had a dreadful flight

I'm back in the U.S. .!"

Click!

"Hey!"

Gone was the thumping sounds of pure noise; welcomed was the stirring imagery of the Pastoral Symphony. Good-bye, Beatles. Hello, Beethoven.

Brian sank back into his seat, breathing out a deep sigh of relief as he let the Classical radio tunes wash over him like a hot shower.

"Hmph. Driver chooses the music, Brain."

"And my eardrums choose the pitch. Obviously, that one was not fit to relent."

Pinky opened his mouth... then shut it, resolving to pout instead. He knew it would have been more polite to allow his guest access to the radio in the first place, but he had been hoping Brain might like his taste in music. He wasn't particularly in the mood for Classical. Oh well. Perhaps they'd play something with a good beat at the party. Like Weird Al! Thinking about Al Yankovic playing his signature accordion made him perk up a bit, and by the time they reached Flaversham's house he was in a much better mood.

The first person that greeted him upon exiting the car was not a colleague, but Olivia. They had, after all, parked outside of Mrs. Frisby's house, owing to the crowded street surrounding Flaversham's place. She ran up to Pinky and hugged him.

"Mr. Pinky! You came!"

"Oof! Ha-ha. Hello, Olivia!" Pinky greeted fondly, wrapping his arms around her.

Globetrotter shut the door behind him with a snap, glad to be rid of the car and the lingering scent that came with it.

"Are you coming to my party?" Olivia asked, looking up eagerly into the face of her very tall and ivory friend. She was dressed in the most interesting attire: a striped shirt, long checkerboard pants, a white lab coat, and half-rimmed glasses, complete with note board and pen, upon which she seemed to have taken down the names of all those in attendance at her party. She still wore the tam-o-shanter.

"Oh, Olivia, I told you I was going to the adult party," Pinky admitted, petting her softly on the back.

Olivia's ears drooped.

"But I'll try and pop in later, okay?"

She smiled and hugged him again. Globetrotter wrinkled his nose at the tender scene, eyes rolling as he shook his head.

"Thank you, Mr. Pinky."

"Olivia, what are you supposed to be?" Pinky asked, loving her attire, but absolutely clueless as to who she was mimicking.

"You don't know? I'm you!" she beamed.

"Oh...," Pinky hiccuped, blushing pink from his ears down to the tip of his tail.

"See you later!" Olivia waved, heading back into the house, which was looking very inviting, indeed.

Tiny little decorative lamps lit the way up to the wee abode, which looked more like a cottage than anything, a warm and orange-ish glow emanating from the open door and windows. Now and then a kid could be seen running past the door, and Mrs. Frisby herself waved at them from the entrance.

"Hello, Mr. Pinky! Mr. Globetrotter!"

"Hello, Mrs. Frisby!" Pinky greeted. Globetrotter said nothing, but simply nodded to her in acknowledgement.

"Are you going to Flaversham's party?"

"Yup! I kind of wish I was going to Olivia's, though! Ha-ha! Troz!"

"Well, you're welcome to stop by anytime. We're making cupcakes later!"

"Yeah, and I'm putting on the frosting!" Olivia piped up, peeking in from behind Frisby.

"We'll stop by later, okay?" Pinky called out to them.

"As will I!" said Mrs. Frisby.

Pinky waved good-bye as he and Globetrotter headed across the street and down the concrete path towards Flaversham's.

"We?" Globetrotter inquired, giving Pinky the eye.

"You don't want a cupcake, Brain?" asked Pinky sincerely, looking at him with genuine concern.

"I'll pass," muttered the scientist. Already he was getting that uncomfortable feeling in his nether regions that most definitely meant a trip to the facilities would be in order soon. He was starting to regret agreeing to this...

Stepping up the dimly-lit crimson brick steps leading to the three-level house, Pinky shuffled onto the welcome mat, Brian right beside him, and rang the doorbell.

Flaversham answered almost immediately, decked out in Pilgrim attire.

"Well, well, it's the organizer! Hello there, Mr. Pinkus!" he greeted him cheerfully, noticing only Pinky at first as he shook his hand.

"Evening, Mr. Flaversham!" Pinky replied excitedly, gently bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet like a little child.

"Oh, and who do you have with y- OH! M-Mr. Globetrotter!" Flaversham jumped.

"Evening," Globetrotter drolled.

"Well, I...," Flaversham gulped and laughed nervously. "I-I didn't expect you to be here! I mean, n-not that we don't want you to be here, of course!"

Globetrotter blinked very slooooowly as Flaversham tripped over his tongue something terrible. Fifteen years. Fifteen years he'd known this lily-livered numbskull; this absolutely pitiful excuse for a teacher who somehow made a six-figure salary next to his measly five, yet couldn't defend himself for peanuts. In Globetrotter's eyes, if you didn't have the mental brawn along with the brain then what even was the point?

"Um... What are you supposed to be, M-Mr. Globetrotter?" Flaversham somehow pressed on, wringing his hands together.

"Your worst nightmare," Globetrotter replied. It was meant in jest, but he knew Flaversham wouldn't see it that way, and he grinned inwardly at the professor's response.

"Oh, dear...," Flaversham muttered, looking even more shaken up than he already was.

The restlessness in the air was palpable, and Pinky, feeling the tension, quickly butt in.

"I can help set up the games if you'd like!" Pinky offered encouragingly, to which Flaversham smiled while shaking his head and holding up a hand.

"Oh. N-No need, Mr. Pinky. I can do it. Why don't you go help Mrs. Judson in the kitchen? She might need assistance with the pies, I think."

"Sure! Come on, Brain!" Pinky readily agreed, stepping lightly over the threshold and heading for what he assumed to be the kitchen, soaking in the fascinating decorum along the way.

Globetrotter, however, remained standing on the welcome mat. He stared at Flaversham, as if waiting for something.

"W-Won't you come in?" Flaversham offered, stepping aside fully to allow Globetrotter entrance.

"Thank you," said Globetrotter.

It was with great hesitancy that he tipped into the house, and what a house it was.

This wasn't the first time he'd walked across this hardwood floor. Five years ago he'd found himself in the same house, albeit for a completely different reason that was now lost to memory. But he'd certainly remembered the look of the place. Not much had changed. The three-story abode was the very definition of "mahogany overload" - the floors, the tables, the chairs, the cabinets, the bookshelves, the picture frames, the door frames, the doors themselves, the cuckoo clock on the wall in the adorable little dining room... Everything was mahogany. The layout and style was very similar in taste to that of Globetrotter's, save for being a bit more... eccentric. Flaversham was a renowned inventor as well as a professor, and it showed. There were little gadgets and gizmos in every room in the house, from self-cleaning toilets to robotics that made coffee just the way you liked it. Minus the strange contraptions, Globetrotter was actually quite jealous. His house was nice, but it was just that to him: nice. He wanted the best, and Flaversham had it. Globetrotter knew that he eventually would, as well, but that took time. Lots and lots of time.

He milled about, hands in his pockets, as Flaversham closed the door and dashed off to finish conversing with Mr. Bernard on the topic of breeding different tomato strains. Despite the enormity of the house, the place was packed. One never realizes just how many employees work under the same roof until they're actually under one roof, and this instance was a perfect example. Almost everyone was here, from tall, stuck-up Basil to the short little janitors Jaq and Gus. But of course Pinky would have invited them, Globetrotter thought, disgusted. Anyone within a hundred mile radius with the gumption to wave back at him if he said hello would automatically be on the party list...

Even the janitors, however, were dressed to the nines; well, for janitors, at least. Everyone was decked out in some sort of costume, but most all were tasteful or classy. He caught Basil in a detective's outfit ("You brought that old thing?" Dawson chuckled in jest to Basil as they greeted one another), Bernard and Bianca in very fashionable 1930s attire, and Amos, the Meteorology teacher, was unsurprisingly sporting a rather lavish wig, tiny bifocals, and a very 1700s suit (it was common knowledge that Dr. Amos revered the works of Benjamin Franklin). He nodded curtly to the occasional colleague that passed his way, feeling equal parts elevated that he hadn't stooped to levels of make-up and Halloween dress... and embarrassed for ironically feeling a bit out of place. No one stopped to talk with him. In fact, most gave him a wide berth, looking shocked that he'd showed up at all. Those that did greet him either did so out of supposed necessity or simple fear, and while it was certainly nice to feel respected, parties were absolutely not where he was in his element. Already he was feeling a bit claustrophobic, which did nothing to ease that tight sensation in his abdomen. It was only a matter of time before he'd have to dash for the facilities.

Flaversham made it a point early on to all the guests that there was a big fat box resting on a podium in a far corner of the living room, and that every participant was encouraged to write down their choice of teachers for the ten categories listed so as winners might be chosen for the awards ceremony. Globetrotter made a mental note not to participate.

Uncertain of where to go next, and wanting to free himself from the tight and chatty quarters, he made a spur of the moment decision to head for the kitchen, squeezing uncomfortably past Dawson and security guard Mappy (He invited the security guard?, Globetrotter thought), and slipping quietly into the kitchen.

The sizeable kitchen, though not as packed as the rest of the house, still housed a fair number of guests, and yet, despite the good number of party-goers in the room, the very first individual Globetrotter's eyes landed on was Pinky. Perhaps he was just so used to his lanky frame that he was a breeze to spot. At the moment, the Trozology teacher was helping Mrs. Judson with the baking, both of them suited up with frilly pink and yellow aprons.

"I'm just not sure if adding the cinnamon will be too strong or...," Mrs. Judson mused, looking a wee bit frazzled.

"Well, see, I think it would come out much better if you added some of this!" Pinky offered, squeezing a bit of lemon into the mix.

"Why, I didn't even think of lemon. Thank you, Mr. Pinkus," Judson smiled, finishing off the main ingredients with a flourish and popping the pie into the oven. "You know, you'd make an excellent chef."

"My mother always said that! But I felt more comfortable with Trozology," Pinky grinned in turn, untying his apron and tossing it over his shoulder before wiping his hands on a nearby towel.

"What is Trozology?" Mrs. Judson asked, not bothering with a towel and instead simply wiping her hands on her skirt and apron. "I never asked."

Globetrotter had begun to walk over to them, but froze in place at this question. If he didn't interrupt, perhaps he'd finally hear the answer to this puzzling question. He'd asked Pinky himself, of course, what it was, and on several occasions, whenever he did remember to do so, but by some strange force of nature or spirits or what-have-you, Pinky's answer was always cut short. Maybe this time, though, he wouldn't be? He cocked an ear...

"Oh! Well," Pinky began, more than happy to explain. "It's quite simple, really. It's actually the study o-"

"RONALD! My dear boy!" came a booming voice out of nowhere.

Emerging from the crowd in the most pompous of airs, fully gowned in an ebony and crimson outfit reminiscent of a vampire, or, perhaps, a Count, was Snowball. The only thing missing was a cigar. He flounced up to Pinky and patted him a little too hard on the back, completely unaware that Globetrotter was glaring daggers at him behind his back.

"Ha-ha! The man of the hour. I must say, I don't know why I ever stopped throwing these tasteful galas. They're quite fun! Except for the apple bobbing. I didn't particularly care for that..."

"I'm... I'm glad you're having fun, Mr. Principal!" Pinky responded, sounding gleeful but looking rather nervous. He hadn't forgotten the last time he'd seen this hamster, and it hadn't exactly been pleasant.

"Please, call me Snowball," insisted the principal.

In the back, Globetrotter was having a particularly difficult time of it trying not to keep his eyeballs from popping out of his head, so shocked was he at the presence of this unsightly rival. He made it a point to avoid the principal at all costs whenever he was in the school. Had he known Snowball would be here he definitely wouldn't have come. Had Pinky known, or had he conveniently left that part out?

It was at this moment that Snowball very inconveniently turned around.

"Why, Brain!" he beamed, grinning wide to reveal two particularly sharp, elongated fake teeth taking up the front end of his mouth.

Yup. Definitely a vampire.

He stepped up to the science teacher, cape swishing behind him dramatically as Globetrotter simply stood there, brow furrowed and arms crossed.

"What an absolute delight to see you here! I hear that's your new nickname, is it not? Brain? Brain... Has a rather egotistical ring to it, does it not?" Snowball smirked.

"Hello, Bally," Globetrotter sneered, effectively cleaning the smile off the hamster's face.

"You know I don't like being called that," the principal replied in a much lower tone of voice.

"Oh, don't you?" Globetrotter mocked, swiftly donning a fake pout. "I'm sorry, I thought you enjoyed being reminded of how much you like to dominate."

"Globetrotter!" Mrs. Judson hissed, but no one else seemed to mind or care. In fact, no one was listening to the sparking conversation at all aside from Pinky and Mrs. Judson, the former of whom seemed quite uncomfortable indeed.

"At least I'm not afraid to take full advantage of opportunistic situations," Snowball leered, that smarmy grin playing across his face one more. "So that I don't find myself on the bottom."

"Alllllll right. That's it!" Mrs. Judson intervened, physically stepping between the two of them and pushing them away from one another. "Enough of that talk. You two should be ashamed of yourselves."

Snowball just smirked.

"You still have a chance to redeem yourself, Brain! If not in life, then perhaps this evening? I look forward to seeing your results during the awards."

"You can count on it!" Globetrotter snapped, as Snowball, still grinning, melted into the crowd, winking at Pinky on the way out as he disappeared into another room, leaving his old colleague to stand there, fuming.

"Hmph," Mrs. Judson huffed, hands on her hips. "Well, I never. Globetrotter, you should be ashamed of yourself."

"For what?! He started it!"

"And you encouraged him! Mr. Pinky," she redirected, turning to the puzzled teacher. "I don't know why you invited him, of all creatures. He causes nothing but trouble."

"But I didn't...," answered Pinky meekly, and it was true.

Well, wait. No..., he thought. That wasn't entirely factual. He had bribed the Headmaster with a special spot in the party if he signed Olivia's petition, although, to be fair, Snowball hadn't gone for it.

"Snowball would have invited himself regardless," Globetrotter pitched in. "He takes whatever he wants."

The capsaicin in his tone was unmistakable. Mrs. Judson simply "hmph-ed" again and walked off. Pinky looked from Brain... to where Snowball had disappeared... and back again. He couldn't make out anything of what had just happened. There could be a number of plausible explanations, and his brain wouldn't settle on just one. Snowball had seemed so excited about Brain being invited to the party, so why were they at each other's throats? Had he made a mistake?

Globetrotter turned swiftly 'round to glare at Pinky.

"Why didn't you tell me he was coming?!" he bit, causing Pinky to wince. "At least give me a warning!"

"I... I'm sorry, Brain," Pinky whimpered, hanging his head and rubbing his arm. "I didn't think it would matter. He seemed so excited about you coming!"

"And now you know why," Globetrotter bit. "I should've known you'd make so asinine of a mistake. At least I have an opportunity get him back. 'Not afraid to take full advantage". Ha! I'll show him taking advantage."

"Come again..?"

"The show, Pinky. The show. When I sweep the awards that undignified meadowlark won't be able to put a finger on me!" Globetrotter chuckled to himself, rubbing his hands together evilly. "At least you did one thing right this evening. That hamster is going down."

And with that, he stomped off after Snowball, leaving Pinky to stand very much alone in a sea of people, ears down, tail limp, and heart very much conflicted.

/\/\/\/\/\

The rest of the evening went quite predictably, as parties go. Food was eaten. Games were played. A pie was burnt. Gossip was shared and stories were exchanged. And absolutely no one could beat Basil at Poker.

Pinky socialized with most anyone and everyone, occasionally tossing a concerned glance in Globetrotter's direction. The science teacher hadn't spoken once to him since the kitchen incident, instead opting to trail Snowball wherever he went - close enough that the Headmaster knew he was there, but not so close that the hamster could launch a sarcastic grenade in his direction. Now and again, Snowball would participate in a friendly game of pool or shuffleboard. Every time, he invited Globetrotter to join. Every time, against his better judgement, Globetrotter relented... and lost, growing more and more irritated with each escaped victory. The hamster didn't seem to mind the mouse's sour attitude. Indeed, he appeared to be practically relishing in Globetrotter's humiliation. Most party-goers simply ignored the angry little rodent. Everyone knew he was difficult to please and prone to bouts of outrage. Why tempt the beast? But Pinky didn't see a beast. He saw a broken, frustrated, self-doubting little creature that was hurting and taking it out on everyone, including himself. The pain in his eyes wasn't difficult to see. He was all too familiar with it.

Meanwhile, Globetrotter found himself increasingly frustrated. Despite his initial resistance, out of exacerbation he wandered up to the podium. Already a healthy helping of papers had been ripped off of a little notepad and stuffed into the large, black box. The notepad seem to have been custom-made, for on it was a list of ten subjects, ranging from "Most Popular Teacher" to "Fastest Grader". Globetrotter scoffed at the list. It all seemed very trivial and rather haphazardly put together, but his eyes still landed on the "Most Popular Teacher" award. For some reason, he imagined his name next to it, even though popularity was the last thing he wanted. If there had been a "Most Respected Teacher" award (which, despite Pinky saying there would be one, there wasn't) he would have been bold enough to put himself down for it and slip it into the box. He knew who was going to win "Most Popular", and it wasn't going to be him.

He sighed and looked furtively this way and that without turning his head.

He clicked his tongue.

"Hell...," he muttered, picking up a pencil on the podium and writing down 'Pinky', and only 'Pinky', for the "Most Popular" option. He didn't bother filling out the others. Popping it into the box, he ran a hand down his face as inconspicuously as possible, stepped away from the podium, and melted back into the crowd. It wasn't like anyone had noticed him there, or would care. Pinky certainly hadn't noticed, and that's what mattered most.

/\/\/\/\/\

At 7:03 PM, the doorbell rang. Flaversham answered it. It was Olivia.

"Oh! Olivia."

He bent down to her level and cupped a hand to his mouth.

"You know this is adults only, my dear," he whispered kindly to her.

"I know, Daddy! I just need to see... Mr. Pinky!" she gasped, swallowing heavily between "see" and "Mr.". It was obvious that she had just run all the way from Mrs. Frisby's house to hers.

"Hm. Just a moment. I'll go find him."

It did not take long.

"Hello, Olivia!" Pinky said, returning with Professor Flaversham and licking the tips of his fingers of what looked to be chocolate cake. "How's your party going?"

"Mmph. All right. Evinrude ate too many cupcakes, though," she huffed, folding her arms indignantly. "And Alphie had an accident and peed all over the floor."

"Alphie?"

"He goes to Cynthia's kindergarten class."

She motioned with a hand for Pinky to bend down to her level, which he did. She stepped up to his ear and whispered:

"I don't think he's potty trained."

Pinky chuckled a little and stood back up.

"I'll leave you two to it. I have to get back to my guests. Olivia, don't keep Mr. Pinky long, all right?" Flaversham said.

"I won't!" replied Olivia. Then she looked back up at Pinky. "I have a problem," she sighed.

"Oh?" asked Pinky, kneeling down to the ground so as she didn't have to crane her neck. "What is it?"

"May I borrow your box?"

"My box?"

"You know. The one from your class! It'll work anywhere, right?"

"Hmmmm. Oh! You mean the one we sit in when we go to different worlds, yes?"

"Yes! That's it!"

Pinky chuckled and leaned in. Now it was his turn to do the whispering.

"Well, Olivia. Let me tell you a secret: Any box works! Poit!"

"Really?" she gasped, pulling back, her eyes wide.

"Mmhm! All you have to do is think reeeaaally hard about where you want to go, and then you'll be there!"

"And everyone else, too?!"

"Mmmm... it does help if they're thinking hard, too, but if you concentrate deep enough you can do it for them!"

"I can?!"

"Yes! Ha-ha!"

"No way! I'm going to go try it out! Thank you, Mr. Pinky!" she exclaimed excitedly, hugging him about the neck before running back to Mrs. Frisby's in the crisp fall air, her little black shoes crunching across the leaf-infested street. "See you later! And thank you!"

"Have fun! Narf!" Pinky waved back, beaming. Spirits uplifted a little, he headed back inside, not noticing the black cab that pulled up to the curb.

The first thing that hit his nose upon reentering the house was a strong whiff of bourbon. His snout wrinkled at the scent. It was so potent he was surprised he hadn't smelled it back on the porch. Along with the bourbon came a hint of wine. As he milled about, he noticed that nearly everyone had a glass in their hand, courtesy of Flaversham, who, along with a couple of helpers, was passing around spirits. Even Mrs. Frisby, who must have slipped in earlier, could be seen with a tiny little cup of sparkling wine in hand, and the chatter in the room, coupled with smooth jazz music, had noticeably increased. Clearly, the actual party was starting.

"Spirits, Sir?" a stout little vole in a black suit and tie asked him, holding up a round platter of drinks as high as his tiny arms could reach. Pinky, after all, was a very tall mouse.

"Oh. No, thank you!" Pinky politely refused, holding up a hand. "I don't drink. Ha-ha."

The diminutive vole shrugged and skittered off, presumably to his next victim.

Pinky looked about. Everywhere was packed - the living room, the foyer, the second and third levels. Even the stairs themselves were occupied. Feeling a little claustrophobic, he headed for the kitchen.

As before, it wasn't as overrun as the other rooms, but Mrs. Judson looked exhausted all the same, sitting at the main dining table on the farthest side, a glass of red wine in one hand, the other hand fanning herself. Pinky wandered over to her.

"Did the chocolate cake come out all right?" he asked. "So sorry I wasn't there for the last bit to help!" And he looked genuinely sorry about it.

"Oh. Don't worry about it," she said thickly, hiccuping. "This isn't my first fete, and it won't be the last, I can assure you of that."

She took a sip of wine, and Pinky sat down next to her.

"So how are those two rascals gettin' along?"

"Who?" asked Pinky, ears twitching at the ringing of the doorbell.

"Globetrotter and Snowball. Are they still at one another's throats out there?"

"I think so."

"Heh. Typical," she scoffed, taking another sip.

"How long have you known Brain, Mrs. Judson?"

"Brain..?"

"Isn't that his first name?"

Mrs. Judson laughed.

"Brian, dear. Brian's his name!"

"Brian who?" asked Pinky, looking around as if to catch sight of this mysterious 'Brian'.

"Really, Mr. Pinky. You're not going to get on his good side mispronouncing his name, if he even has a good side..."

"I'm sorry. Who?"

"Globetrotter, of course. I'm surprised you rub shoulders with him," said Judson, chair creaking loudly as she leaned heavily back into it. "He's not exactly the amiable type."

"What is his type?"

"Hmph," Judson grunted, swirling her wine about. "I'd pin him as the 'don't give a shite' type. Fellow doesn't care about anyone except himself."

There it was again.

"That's not true," Pinky piped up in defense. "He loves the world, and everything in it!"

"Loves the world? Where you'd get that notion?" Mrs. Judson asked, looking at him quizzically.

"H-He told me. And I've seen him work... after hours, doing, you know, little things - things to help people. I truly believe Brain wants to make the world a better place."

Mrs. Judson leaned forward.

"Globetrotter doesn't care about anyone save for 'imself, love. I know you want to see the good in everyone, but some people just don't have that, deary." She sighed. "Two years ago, there was a girl in his class named Dandy. Very nice girl; very sweet girl. Wouldn't hurt a fly. But she wasn't the brightest in mathematics and, well, Globetrotter was particularly hard on her. Too hard. One day, I pop into one of the abandoned classrooms. Found her in the corner with some pills in her hand. I managed to stop her before she'd downed the whole lot. Now, I know that's an extreme case, but from what she told me what pushed her to the edge was him - told her she was a good for nothing; that she'd never go anywhere; constantly yelled at her in class, even outside of class; assigned her extra homework, more than all the other students. I never said anything to anyone, save for screamin' in his face about it one night. Told him he bloody near killed the girl. Dunno if it did much good, really."

Pinky gaped, wide-eyed.

"I... I knew that he yelled sometimes, and that his students don't really like him, but... I didn't know he did that. Zort..."

"He's not one to mess with, love," Judson said, leaning back into her chair once more. "There hasn't been an incident that bad since, but I still keep my eye on him now and then. We all have some demons to fight. I don't know what's his, but you see a poor soul ready to end her life because of a teacher and you tell me if that man is fit to teach. He might've been framed for manslaughter if she'd done it. One day it's all going to come back and bite him in the arse; mark my words. I almost pity 'im."

As she took another sip of wine, Pinky blinked and stared out into nothingness, contemplating all that Mrs. Judson had told him. Was Globetrotter really that bad...? He could someone with such good intentions be so cruel? And if he wasn't trying to take over the world for pure reasons then what was he trying to do? The guess he could harbor was one he didn't care to think about. He didn't want to believe what Mrs. Judson had said, but in his heart he knew she was telling the truth.

He got up from his chair.

"Excuse me," Pinky muttered.

Mrs. Judson looked at him in concern.

"You all right, love? I'm sorry. Perhaps that was a bit much to tell you."

"No no! I... I'm all right. Really," replied Pinky, forcing a smile.

Mrs. Judson wasn't convinced.

"Don't let it get you down, dear," she said, opting not to push it. "Focus on the good lot, like those children you teach. They're the ones who deserve all of your love, not a person who won't appreciate it. You're a good man, Ronald. Best teacher we've ever had, in fact."

"Thank you, Mrs. Judson," nodded Pinky, his smile genuine this time.

And he left, heading for the living room.

As expected, the place was still packed. Pinky chose a spot in a far corner of the congested living room - one of two plush red velvet chairs with a small black table in-between them, set in front of duo mahogany bookshelves. He sank into it and sighed. After the talk with Mrs. Judson, he was feeling particularly winded. Thoughts were raging through his mind like a lightning storm, causing his head to pound and his ears to ring. In an effort to calm himself, he opted to focus on the interesting things scattered about the room.

It was after an entire minute of scanning the area, gazing at the pictures on the walls and observing nearby conversations, that he noticed a familiar figure sitting in the plush chair next to him.

Brian T. Globetrotter sat with his hand propped up against his cheek, brow furrowed and feet dangling. Only now did Pinky realize that Globetrotter's suit was a bit too tight for him, his round stomach begging to protrude past the black cotton. There were deep bags under his eyes, and he sighed as if the entire weight of the world was on his shoulders. He looked utterly miserable. Pinky sank deeper into his chair, hoping the mouse hadn't noticed him, but...

"Some party," Globetrotter muttered, not looking at him.

Pinky said nothing.

"Never thought I'd see the day when a pawn would checkmate a king."

Pinky blinked.

"But I suppose I should have expected nothing less from a shark. Backstabbing, libidinous son of a-"

POP! went a champagne bottle, but Pinky still winced at the language.

An awkward pause passed by, in which Globetrotter tossed a glance or two in his colleague's direction, whereas Pinky determinedly looked everywhere but at Brian.

"You're unusually reticent," Globetrotter remarked, a bit sharply. "Bad Bourbon?"

"What..?" Pinky asked distantly, eyes wide and looking as if he'd just been injected with a heavy dose of bewilderment.

Brain frowned at him, but never got a chance to reply.

Claps and cheers resounded throughout the room. Tables and chairs were being pushed to the sides, with more being added from other spots in the house, guests taking seats wherever they could find one. Some remained standing out of necessity, others out of desire. Most all had a glass of wine, bourbon, or champagne to sip. In a corner opposite where Pinky and Brian sat, Flaversham stood in front of a pedestal (mahogany, of course), which was positioned on a raised part of the floor that made up a little one-step, upper area. Two tall wooden bookcases stood behind him, framing his lanky figure.

"All right! All right! Calm down, everyone!" Flaversham called out, clearing his throat. "Ahem. First, I'd like to thank you all for attending tonight's autumn get-together, which was graciously put together, as we all know, by Mr. Ronald Pinkus!"

He motioned to Pinky, who was still sitting in the red velvet chair next to Globetrotter. He grinned shyly and blushed, waving his fingers at the crowd, who exploded in genuine claps, whistles, and cheers.

"I think I speak for everyone when I say that our little party has been a resounding success," Flaversham continued.

"Hmph. Almost everyone," Globetrotter mumbled quietly, as the guests once again replied with hoots and hollers. Pinky heard him, however, and his ears drooped.

"But now that we are all filled with good food, good wine, and fun games, it's time for the grand event, also put together by Mr. Pinky!"

Pinky forced a smile as more claps were tossed his way. It was fortunate he'd been able to alert not only Flaversham, but most all those present in the room about his awards ceremony idea just hours before the actual party, which, in itself, had been a daunting task. "Please, don't tell anyone I came up with it last minute!" he'd asked everyone pre-party, wanting for it to come off as inconspicuous as possible to Globetrotter. All the same, his eyes kept flicking back and forth to the science teacher, hoping he wouldn't notice anything suspicious, which, thankfully, he didn't seem to. If anything, he'd sat up in his seat, looking rather uncomfortable.

"Excuse me," said Globetrotter, standing up and making for where he knew was the facilities.

Although he would never admit it out loud, one odd thing about Globetrotter was that he took note of where the bathrooms were in every single location he ever visited in the event that, should he ever return to said place, he'd immediately know where to run to whenever his bowels acted up. Flaversham's was no different. This particular restroom run was one he intended to keep short; the awards ceremony was the only thing he'd come for and, by Ptolemy, he was not going to miss it.

He made a beeline for the back of the house, left of the foyer and beyond the kitchen. He was half-way down an elegantly-carpeted hallway when he ran into the last person in the world he'd expected to meet.

"Eggy?"

"Billie?"

They both stopped and stared at one another, surprised as anything. She was dressed to the nines from top to bottom, a long purple boa covering part of what must have been a royally expensive mink fur coat and satin pink dress. He wasn't sure what drew more attention to her - the annoyingly echoing click of her high heels, the exceedingly large cartwheel sunhat to match the dress and shoes, or the yellow purse made of thick leather which absolutely did not match any part of the outfit. It was obvious she'd just come out of the bathroom herself - her make-up was far too fresh.

Billie sized him up and down before finally settling on a frown, crossing her arms, and leaning against the wall.

"Well. Fancy meeting you here."

"I could say the same...," Globetrotter grunted, playing the same card with an equally down-turned expression. "Snowball put you up to this?"

"You tell me. A man isn't satisfied unless he's embarrassed a girl at least twice."

"You know that was never my intention."

"Wasn't it?"

Globetrotter sighed. He didn't have time for this. Already, his bowels were threatening to burst. He was doing everything in his power not to dance around on the spot.

"Excuse me," he groaned, slipping past her and darting for the bathroom.

"Yeah, you run away, Eggy. Just like you ran away every other time!" she yelled after him as he slammed the mahogany door shut.

Inside, Brian shot to the toilet, barely able to undo his belt fast enough before absolutely exploding. He buried his face in his hands. Why, oh, why, had he ever agreed to this? Idiot. The busted car should have been a sign that the night would only get worse. Fate had been at the door and he'd tempted it.

Five minutes, one pill, and a healthy blast of citrus spray around the bathroom later, Globetrotter exited, taking with him a weary composure and an overwhelming desire to collapse into his warm bed back home. He had half a mind to "borrow" Pinky's keys and drive home without a backward glance, but stubbornness won out. He was going to attend the ceremony if it was the last thing he did, Billie or no Billie.

He tip-toed back out into civilization, past the kitchen, across the foyer... and that's where he stayed, for he could see Billie at the far end of the room and didn't wish to wander any closer. Pinky was still in his chair, twiddling his thumbs absently as he tried to hang onto Flaversham's words, and Snowball was leaning against a right-hand wall a few paces away, sipping at a glass of wine and looking absolutely smug about it. It was dangerous territory all around.

"So!" Flaversham announced. "Let's get started, shall we? Now, I have a few prizes here... that were whipped up from the local shopping establishments," he added, to a resounding wave of chuckles.

Globetrotter raised an eyebrow. Shopping establishments?

"First! We have a gift card to Pottery Barn! One hundred dollars!" Flaversham went on, pulling a card out from a hidden shelf on the podium and flashing it off to the crowd, some of whom "oooo-ed" and "ahhh-ed" at the desired trinket.

Globetrotter scowled. Pottery Barn?! They were handing out peasant prizes!

"First prize goes to the teacher with...," Flaversham faltered, readjusting his large round glasses as he took a closer look at a rectangular piece of parchment in his fingers, "... 'Most A+ Students in 1992'!"

More chatter. Several of the women giggled and gabbled amongst themselves, quietly (or not-so-quietly) guessing at who might win the prize.

"And the card goes to..." He flipped open the parchment. "Mrs. Frisby!"

The room clapped and cheered. Mrs. Frisby, looking very surprised indeed, humbly got up from her chair, thanking her friends who patted her encouragingly as she stepped up to the podium to retrieve her gift.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Frisby," Flaversham said warmly, handing her the card.

"Why, thank you!" she addressed, both to him and the entire room. "I don't know what to say!"

"You earned it, Miss Friz!" someone called from the crowd, and others heartily agreed.

As Frisby went to sit down, still looking rather flabbergasted, Globetrotter scoffed, tossing a paw in frustration and opting to lean up against a nearby wall at the very back of the crowd. No medals. No trophies. Just party favors! What a joke.

And so the "party favors" were slowly dolled out over the course of a very long, very boring hour, at least in Globetrotter's eyes. The gifts took on all shapes, sizes, and costs, ranging from everything from a pack of playing cards to a set of expensive dinnerware. Basil, unsurprisingly, won a gift card to Barnes & Noble for "Most Books Assigned to Classes". It was common knowledge that his assignments involved consulting actual tomes - lots of them. If there was anyone who owned a bigger library than Globetrotter and even Flaversham, it was Basil. Jerry the Mouse, one of the theatre instructors, received a VHS set of musicals for snagging the "Most Creative" award, and Pinky, to no one's surprise, was the grand winner of the "Most Popular Teacher" title and a month's supply of Cheez-Its. Surprisingly, the only award Snowball had won, and would win for the remainder of the ceremony, was a fez hat for "Most Mysterious". He didn't seem perturbed, however. Quite the opposite, in fact. He accepted his gift graciously, wasting no time in plopping it atop his thick head, a smug smile completing the look. So far, Globetrotter had not won a single prize. Not like he wanted one at this point...

By 7:49, and with only two awards left to go, Globetrotter was silently plotting Pinky's downfall more deeply than ever. Why had he agreed to this public display of humiliation? Why did everything that could go wrong actually go wrong on this joke of a day? Why did he ride along in a pungent car with a wack-o "professor" who had terrible taste in music and an even more insatiable personality? Why, for that matter, had he even bothered to make him his lackey, of all things? What crazy mood had he been in to posses him to act upon that notion? Why would he willingly hang out with someone he didn't like; that he was trying to oust, rather? To destroy?

As all these confusing thoughts playing ping-pong loudly in Brian's head, Flaversham read out the second-to-last award:

"And the winner of 'Ultimate Night Owl" goes to... Oh! Professor Globetrotter!"

Globetrotter's ears perked up as the crowd cheered and clapped politely. He barely heard what the title even was, much less the award he'd earned for it.

"Wait... What?" he queried, looking this way and that in confusion.

"That's you, Globetrotter!" another math professor said.

"Go on up, man!" piped a much younger teacher whom Globetrotter did not know, pushing him up to the front encouragingly.

He stepped out into the middle of the room a bit self-consciously, hands tucked in to his chest as he tip-toed towards the podium, the gentle claps and occasional whistle nudging him ever forward. He stared up at Flaversham, feeling smaller than he usually felt.

"For you!" Flaversham said, handing him a book: A Shrine of Murders by Celia L. Grace.

Globetrotter took it. He blinked. Not only was this a very appropriate gift, it was actually one he'd been wanting. Whomever had gotten him this knew that it had been on his wish list. Who...? For that matter, who had paid for all of these prizes?

In the background, Pinky was watching Globetrotter most intently, albeit trying not to look it.

"What was my title?" Globetrotter asked, still flabbergasted.

"Oh. Uhhh... U-Ultimate Night Owl, Professor Globetrotter. You won for the teacher who clocks out the latest. Y-You must be very studious, Professor!"

Globetrotter looked down at his book once more, almost at a loss for words.

"I-I... Thank you...," he managed to squeak out.

He couldn't remember the last time someone had given him such a thoughtful gift. It scared him a little. Who was this individual who knew him so well? But then he realized: It hadn't been quite so long ago that he'd received a very personal present. The last person whom had given him a particularly intimate gift... was Pinky. He tossed a searching and inquisitive stare over his shoulder at the Trozologist, who simply gave him a very small and strained smile.

"Um. I-If you don't mind, Mr. Globetrotter, may we continue with the... festivities?" Flaversham bumbled about.

Globetrotter looked around, only just then realizing that he'd been standing in place for a good half a minute. Every eye was on him. Some were giggling, presumably at his shocked reaction and the flabbergasted look on his face. A light pink blush rose up into the science teacher's ivory cheeks. Embarrassed, he shuffled back to his spot at the tail end of the crowd and leaned against the wall, caressing the book with warm hands as he did so. His ego told him he deserved this; that he worked hard to warrant receiving gifts. But another part of him, a part he'd tried desperately to hide for years, told him he absolutely did not.

There was an odd rumbling in his stomach as Flaversham pulled out the last card for "Most Knowledgeable Teacher". Again? Surely, he didn't have to relieve himself this soon? Deciding to be safe than sorry, he made for the bathroom, when...

"And the winner goes to... Oh, my! Globetrotter again!"

More claps. More cheers. Most polite; some genuine. Basil looked rather disappointed.

Globetrotter stopped dead in his tracks and turned around slowly on the spot. What...?

"Yes, you! A-ha. Come here!" Flaversham called, responding to the mouse's locked and bewildered stare.

Once again, the professor slowly made his way to the front of the crowd, reaching out for the second time towards a prize.

"Congratulations!" said Flaversham.

He accepted the gift, without a "thank you" this time. He looked at it. It was a gift card to Denny's.

The claps continued. Even though they were more deferential than anything, it was at least agreed upon, albeit not in words, that this prize was one Globetrotter very much deserved. Despite his horrible reputation, not one could deny that he was the most intellectual being in the school.

He shuffled slowly back to his wall, wide-eyed, dumbstruck, and still processing the fact that he'd not only won twice, but that one of the prizes was to a place he'd never set foot in in his life... and probably never would.

"Well, that does it for the ceremony, everyone! Ah, Mrs. Judson is making roast pudding in the kitchen, if you'd all like to have some!" Flaversham called out, as the guests began to disperse, some taking it upon themselves to shuffle the chairs and tables back into position, others heading immediately to the kitchen.

Globetrotter leaned back against the wall and sighed, staring at his two prizes. He'd come to this party in the hopes of attaining prizes; expected it even. So why was he so surprised to get some?

Confused, wanting to better collect his thoughts in a more private setting, Globetrotter slithered through the thinning crowd (most of whom were now jostling towards the enticing smell of pudding), past the chairs where he had sat (and which was noticeably absent of one particular Trozology professor), and up a flight of steps to the second level.

Compared to the rest of the house, this area was significantly less congested. In fact, aside from himself, no one else was up here. Tucking the book underneath his arm, and slipping the card into a pocket, he stuck his hand in his pants pockets and meandered about the vacant area.

A long mahogany banister, its thin wooden pillars supporting the third floor above, framed a strip of hall, wrapping around to stretch the length of another strip. The pillars were moderately spaced, enough that someone could look over any part of the banister to the first floor below. Globetrotter could see the top of the podium, and the black box, now open, that had house everyone's ceremonial votes. A lingering scent of burnt metal and, strangely, sour apples wafted across his nose as he shuffled across the thick ornate carpet, one hand rubbing its thumb over the smooth surface of the gift card as he went. His eyes went to the pictures along the walls - photographs of family members, young and old, that catalogued the years gone by; replications of Monet's paintings; the occasional framed newspaper clipping highlighting some new discovery in the scientific community, or else drawing attention to an exciting invention by some nobody from Tennessee or Ohio. One particular article covered the death of Richard Feynman, a physicist, in 1988. Globetrotter remembered that. He was quite fond of his research on particle physics and his theory of quantum electrodynamics.

Turning a corner at the end of the first stretch of banister, Globetrotter stopped sharply in his tracks, for only now did he realize that he wasn't the only guest up here.

Billie stood at the far end of the hall, her long, covered arms resting upon the banister as she overlooked the mostly empty living room below. She didn't bother turning her head as Globetrotter stood there, staring at her.

"Finally noticed me, did ya'?" she scoffed lightly, looking forlornly over the edge.

Globetrotter shuffled his feet. He racked his brain for a witty reply, but none came to mind, and so he settled with a lame:

"What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you, too, Eggy," said Billie, sounding equal parts miffed and disappointed.

"Please don't call me that."

"I'll call you whatever I want. Can't a girl have that?"

Globetrotter didn't know what to say. The scent of trouble was mixing with the apple and burnt metal, souring the atmosphere further, and he didn't like it. This entire evening was a ticking time bomb, slowly counting down the seconds to what was sure to be a royal disaster, and if he didn't leave soon it was going to blow up in his face.

"Excuse me. I need to... use the facilities," he threw at her, heading back towards the stairs. It was only a partial lie. If he didn't have to use the toilet when he got to it he could at least have a good cry where no one would see him.

"Eggy, wait...," she reached out, finally turning to look at him.

Globetrotter stopped, gaze firmly fixed on the carpet.

Billie sighed. When she spoke, it was with a significantly softer tone.

"Listen, Eggy, would you just tell me the truth? You don't have to pretend you weren't involved..."

"What are you talking about?" asked Globetrotter, shooting her a sharp and quizzical glare over his shoulder.

"Eggy, I'm not stupid. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that you worked with Snowball in getting me here, just to embarrass me. You know how much it breaks my heart to see you again!"

"Why would I actively participate in something that makes me just as uncomfortable? That doesn't make any sense."

"I dunno. I just know you had a hand in it."

"I did nothing of the sort. I had no idea Snowball was going to be here, much less you."

Billie winced a little at the insensitive remark.

"Are you even a little happy to see me, Eggy?"

Globetrotter gave her a long, drawn-out look. Gosh, she was pretty. Even with one strand of the silky hair that curled over her face being out of place. Even with a bit of her eyeliner being slightly askew. (Eyeliner. He didn't even like eyeliner, but he liked it on her.) The saucer hat which practically hovered over her head like a UFO, and the ugliest yellow purse in the world, did nothing to diminish her beauty. But it wasn't meant to be and had never been meant to be. There was, as he would have put it, no sense in lamenting over prostrated dairy product.

And so he replied with a very finite, but lugubrious, "no", leaving his pity in his pockets as he left the second floor and descended back down to the first, Billie staring after him with a forlorn expression on her painted face.

/\/\/\/\/\

The crowd waited with bated breath. Jaq was chewing on his tail, and Gus, right beside him, had his paws tucked tightly up to his chest, bottom lip reddening as he bit down on it in trepidation. Amos's jaw was in great danger of falling to the floor in astonishment, and Basil, sitting in a far corner of the kitchen, was staring unblinkingly at the scene, equal parts frightened and disgusted.

Pinky and Pip were sitting across from one another at the main dining table, head-to-head in a furious competition, a sizable crowd of guests sitting and standing around them, captivated. Pip had challenged Pinky to a drink off - a spicy drink off, to be precise. In front of them were two tumblers, both filled to the brim with a most potent concoction indeed: a juicy mixture of jalapenos, habaneros, garlic, ginger, turmeric, a little bit of apple and carrot to offset some of the heat, and, to top it all off, chili peppers. "Bet you can't get through just one!" Pip had joked, and Pinky, not wanting to turn down any kind of party game, had accepted when no one else would.

The two rodents, chipmunk and mouse, grinned at one another, game faces set.

"You gentlemen are going to regret this," Dawson said, who was standing nearby with a stop watch ready and waiting in his hand. "On my mark. Get set... Go!"

Immediately, they started chugging. Pinky's eyes practically popped out of his head at the first gulp, but he kept going. Pip barely broke a sweat at first, but half-way through his nose was starting to wrinkle.

"Chug! Chug! Chug!" went the crowd, mostly the men. Almost all the women looked either concerned, grossed out, or simply shook their heads in exacerbation. Mrs. Judson glared at them in-between cutting up vegetables for another dish.

Pinky's eyes were starting to water. Pip drank faster in an effort to get it over with as quickly as possible. They both finished their first glass at the exact same time, each slamming their tumblers on the table and gasping for fresh air. Pinky's tongue was lolling out of his mouth, and Pip was actually sweating.

"Time!" Dawson called out. "Thirty-six seconds flat!"

"T-Take that for a first shot!" Pip exclaimed, looking weary.

"Now now. That was a tie, and you still have one more glass to go!" Dawson reminded them.

"What...? Oh, yeah..," groaned Pip, giving his second tumbler the side eye.

Pinky silently drew his second glass up to himself in preparation, resigned to his fate. Might as well.

"On your mark...," went Dawson, as Pip scrambled to grab his glass. "Go!"

Off they went, Pip more resignedly this time, Pinky simply shooting down the drink as fast as was humanely possible. He shut his eyes to the heat, tears streaming down his fluffy white cheeks now as he threw his head back and downed the entire thing gulp-by-gulp. Pip struggled to keep up, and at the second Dawson yelled, "Time!", he was still finishing off the last few drops as Pinky slammed his glass to the table.

"Mr. Pinky is the winner!"

"Ha!" Pinky exclaimed, pointing at Pip victoriously as he fell back into his chair, breathing heavily and smiling wearily as the crowd came around to congratulate him, pat him on the shoulders, or else bring him a glass of water or milk. Mrs. Judson simply shook her head, muttering under her breath, repulsed.

"Hmph. Beginner's luck," Pip groaned, sinking into his chair as he lazily tossed a $10 bill in Pinky's direction. When someone set a cup of milk in front of him, he stubbornly waited a few seconds before picking it up resignedly and downing the entire glass.

Globetrotter came in right at the tail end of it all, hands still occupying his pockets as he lingered next to Mrs. Judson. He shook his head.

"Idiots," he mumbled.

"For once, I agree with you," Judson seconded, cutting up carrots. "What'd you win? I heard some of it, but didn't get a look at the prizes."

Globetrotter slipped the book out from under his arm and held it out for Mrs. Judson to see.

"What's this?" she asked, leaning over and adjusting her glasses for a better look. "Hm. Book you'd been wanting?"

"Yes," said Globetrotter, tucking the precious cargo back under his arm.

Mrs. Judson smiled and shook her head.

"Always so thoughtful, he is," said she.

"Who?"

"Mr. Pinky, of course. He said you'd like it."

"He got me this..?"

"Well, of course. He bought all the gifts. Didn't he tell you?"

"I... He did?"

"Yes. He took it all very seriously. Must have cost a fortune for him. He's not as well to-do as you are."

Globetrotter frowned, staring off into space in contemplation. Well, that explained the variety in the gifts. At some point he must have run low on funds and scraped for options, hence the fez hat and Denny's card. He was surprised the nincompoop had paid for it all himself. What a waste of finances, he thought. Then again, he did like the book.

"Oh, look what the cat dragged in...," was what slipped off of Mrs. Judson's tongue, barely turning around at the telling click of two high-heeled shoes.

Only Globetrotter had heard the comment as he turned about to see Billie walk into the room. He both resented and agreed with it. While he did find her beautiful, there was a reason why things hadn't worked out.

The overly-dressed mouse stepped lightly across the linoleum, pinching her nose as she did so.

"Oo! What is that smell?!" rang out her disgust in a high-pitched, obnoxious voice, turning a few heads in the process. "Smells like someone threw up a chili dog!"

At the sight of Billie, most returned to their conversations, blatantly ignoring her. She didn't seem to notice.

"Who's the braud?" Pip whispered to a teacher, a vole by the name of Motley.

"Hm? Oh," replied Motley, adjusting his glasses as he took a closer look at Billie. "That's Ms. Rossi, Globetrotter's ex."

"Wife?"

"Girlfriend."

"Ohhhhhhhhh. She's a looker, ain't she?" Pip grinned.

"Mmmm... yes. Not much of a lover, though, from what I've heard."

"No? Huh. Shame."

Billie sniffed, taking a moment to look around the room (as well as frowning at the mere presence of Mrs. Judson) before noticing that Globetrotter was, in fact, staring at her.

"Still not talkin' to me, huh?" she nipped, judging him with a look.

Rolling his eyes, Globetrotter walked right past Billie.

"I'm not having this discussion," he said, pointedly refusing to look at her. "If you're too bothered by my presence, you can leave."

Billie stared at him as he exited out of the kitchen and back into the living room. Behind her, Snowball popped his head out of the crowd, grinning sneakily.

"Eggy!" Billie called out, following Globetrotter, not noticing that she wasn't the only one who chased after him.

Back out in the living room, Globetrotter stopped in his tracks as Billie caught up with him. Only a few stragglers lingered about the area by this point, but it was still enough that Globetrotter gave her a warning look. Not here. Not now. The last place he wanted this second-hand embarrassment to fester in was in public, but he knew Billie all too well. Rain or shine, mall or mansion, she was going to speak her mind.

"Eggy, wait! Why don't we talk about this?" she insisted, actually reaching out to grab at Globetrotter's hand. He let it linger there for a moment, but only a moment.

"There's nothing to discuss," said he, pulling away. "Especially here," he said between gritted teeth.

Like a snake, Snowball slipped out into the living room and slithered up against a wall, discreetly grabbing a book from one of the nearby shelves and holding it up to his face in mock preoccupation. Now and again, he peeked over the edges of the novel to enjoy the show. If he'd had popcorn, he would have been munching it.

"It's because I'm not good enough for you, isn't it? You always were more in love with your work."

"That's not the case at all!" Globetrotter retorted, even though, to a degree, it was. "I've told you multiple times why it won't work out between us. Why can't you just... drop the subject?"

"Maybe I would if you'd give me a better reason besides just, 'Oh, I'm too busy!', or, 'Oh, you're too high-maintenance for me!', whatever that means."

By this time, the few stragglers had paused in their private conversations to stare at the scene, and heads were popping out from the kitchen door and hallway to gawk at the battling ex-couple, including Pinky, who actually slipped out into the living room. He seemed torn between interrupting and letting nature take its course. Snowball was silently giggling to himself, which, unfortunately, caught Billie's attention.

"You!" she yelped. "What are you doing here eavesdropping?"

"Me? I'm just trying to read my book!" he replied.

"You set me up for this. You knew he was going to be here, didn't you?!"

"I had no idea! I didn't know one way or the other if Brain was going to show up," reacted Snowball, dressing himself in the ultimate feign of innocence, one hand to his chest and eyes wide in "shock".

Pinky began to lift a paw in protest at this, but quickly replaced it. Technically, Snowball was correct. The principal had had no idea if Pinky would have been able to get Globetrotter to come or not; he'd requested him there as part of the deal, and now, as Pinky watched Globetrotter quietly smirk behind his book, he knew why. It wasn't because he wanted to reconnect with an old friend, or see to it that Globetrotter had a little bit of fun outside of school. He'd wanted him humiliated, all four feet of him, hooked, lined, and sunk in front of a gaping audience, and, thanks to Pinky, he'd gotten it.

Billie had rounded on Globetrotter again.

"It's not enough to break a girl's heart, is it, Eggy? Ya' always gotta go the extra mile, don't you?" she yelled, clearly not believing either of them.

"I never meant to hurt you!" Globetrotter defended himself truthfully. "I just... didn't know how to move forward!"

"Oh, is that all it was? Well, here's your chance! Are you going to take me back or what?"

"I... I-I..."

He looked around nervously. The entire room, now more densely populated, was staring at him. Every eye, from the hallway... to the kitchen door... to the main area, was grounded on Globetrotter. He looked positively mortified. Pinky was frowning sadly at him.

"I-I... I... can't...," he faltered, ears drooping lower than his voice, head hanging. "I don't know how..."

The entire gaggle of on-lookers held their breath. Snowball was on the edge of his seat, as if watching the climax of an action film.

"I see...," Billie said quietly, and Globetrotter lifted his head hopefully. "You're a coward!"

Down went the ears again.

"I should have known you wouldn't have the guts to act on your promises," she snapped, turning her back to him... before swiveling around to face him again just as quickly. "Maybe things would have been different if I'd been more like that Dana girl, huh?!"

"What..? N-No, I...!" Globetrotter stumbled, both in word and in footing as he slowly backed away from Billie's advances.

"Couldn't decide on which girl, could you, Eggy?"

"No, I..! I didn't even like her! She was just..."

"Just what, Egghead?"

"I..."

"Just what?!"

But Pinky had had enough. Frowning, he stepped in-between the two mice, glaring daggers at Billie.

"Please don't shout at my friend," he said, calmly, but firmly.

The crowd waited on tenterhooks. Snowball wasn't even trying anymore to hide the fact that he was enjoying this. His face lit up with glee as he grinned deviously.

"Oh yeah?" Billie countered. "You consider this loser a friend?"

"Yes, I do, and he doesn't deserve to be shouted at! Narf! Maybe he has done some bad things, and maybe he doesn't always know how to talk to a girl, but he's done some good things, too!"

"Oh, yeah? Like what? Name one thing!"

"Well, he...," Pinky paused, looking back at Globetrotter, who stared sadly up at him. What good would someone that innocent see in him? he wondered. Surely nothing.... But Pinky continued. "He's smart, and he's hard-working, and honest, and he hangs out with me even when he doesn't have to. And if he's not comfortable being in a relationship then you shouldn't force him to! Maybe he's just not ready yet? Poit. You should be more understanding."

Billie huffed and folded her arms.

"Hmph. So you'll just invite any ol' person to your parties then, huh? Even people like him?"

"No. I only invite my friends. I didn't invite you, and if you're not going to be nice, then... I'll have to ask you to leave, w-with Flaversham's permission, of course," said Pinky, looking to Flaversham, who gave a pitying nod.

Billie looked around at the crowd. No one came to her defense. Clearly, she was outnumbered. Directing her attention to Pinky once more, she huffed a second time, frowning.

"Fine! If that's the way you all want it, you can have it!"

And she marched out the mahogany door, yellow purse and all, slamming it loudly behind her. Flaversham winced.

Some of the crowd actually clapped.

"Way to go, Mr. Pinkus!" one teacher said.

"Nobody liked that floozy!" spouted another.

Pinky smiled sadly and looked over his shoulder at Globetrotter, who was still staring up at him, at a complete loss for words. He'd actually stood up for him. Why...?

"Do you want to go home?" Pinky asked, soft enough that only Globetrotter could hear him. Slowly, he nodded. Pinky nodded back, acknowledging his request.

"Um... It's been lovely spending time with you all!" Pinky called out to the crowd, loud enough for everyone to hear him, "But Brai-, uh, G-Globetrotter and I have to get going now! We'll see you all later. Please enjoy the party!"

They all thanked him for a lovely time, many coming up to personally shake his hand, pat him on the back, and, in the case of a few of the ladies, give him a soft kiss on the cheek. After they'd all said their good-byes, Pinky stepped up to Flaversham.

"I'm so sorry I can't stay to help clean up. Um... I'd be happy to pay you for it. Oh, and would you please say good-bye to Olivia for me?" he asked, looking forlorn.

"Not to worry, dear boy," Flaversham said, clasping a hand to his shoulder. "I'll take care of everything. You two go home and get some rest, all right?"

Pinky nodded, thanked him, and headed for the door, waving at Globetrotter to follow him.

Globetrotter stepped after Pinky, albeit somewhat drunkenly. As Pinky opened the door for him, he looked back over his shoulder... and caught Snowball staring at him. He said nothing, only gave him the thumbs up, and Pinky, frowning, knew immediately what it meant. He'd succeeded. Olivia would get her baseball stadium. She'd get it, but at what cost?

Out of the three-story mansion they went, past the mahogany door, which Pinky closed shut, over the welcome mat, and back into the pizza-scented Dodge.

The first thing Globetrotter noticed, besides the time (8:32 PM), was Beethoven. Rather humorous, he thought, as he buckled his seat belt, that they'd come back to the same composer - the 5th Symphony this time. They'd started with Beethoven, but they were not, it seemed, to end with Beethoven, for at that moment Pinky angrily changed the subject. Slamming his forefinger onto the "CD" button, the music quickly shifted from classical back to The Beatles, although this time he skipped ahead a few tracks, finally landing on one particular piece. Globetrotter listened quietly as he heard first one chord, then another, be plucked gently by the strings. And then singing...

Blackbird singing in the dead of night Take these broken wings and learn to fly All your life You were only waiting for this moment to arise

For once, Pinky was completely silent as they drove off and away from the house, moonlight flooding the Caravan. Globetrotter couldn't help but toss a shifty glance now and again in his colleague's direction. He'd never seen the mouse look so upset before. It was rather uncomfortable...

Blackbird singing in the dead of night Take these sunken eyes and learn to see All your life You were only waiting for this moment to be free

Surprisingly, he found that he liked this song. Not that he'd ever say it out loud.

Blackbird fly, blackbird fly Into the light of a dark black night

Brian sighed. He supposed he owed him this.

"Thank you, for... what you did," he said. "I appreciate it."

He looked over at Pinky again... and his eyes went wide. The Trozologist looked on the verge of tears. Globetrotter gulped. Was it something he said?

Pinky sniffed.

"Do you...," he began, and sniffed again. "Do you think I hurt her?"

Brian stared. He was worried about Billie?

"What?" he asked, incredulous.

"The girl. Do you think I hurt her feelings?"

"You're talking about Billie?" Globetrotter voiced out loud.

Blackbird fly, blackbird fly Into the light of a dark black night

Pinky nodded. He really was trying very hard not to cry.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night Take these broken wings and learn to fly

"I think she'll be fine," Globetrotter conceded, looking back out at the empty road as they turned a corner.

All your life You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Pinky sniffed again. With eyes only, Globetrotter looked around for a tissue, but found none.

"I never mean to hurt anyone!" burst out the lanky professor, full on crying now. "I just wanted to h-have a nice party!"

You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Globetrotter actually shuffled about for a tissue this time. He'd rather not be rained on if it was to be helped. Opening up the glove box, he found a pack of Kleenex and handed it to Pinky, who gratefully made quick use of it.

You were only waiting for this moment to arise

"I know that... that she wasn't being nice, b-b-but I... I didn't mean to get so upset!" Pinky wailed.

Globetrotter rolled his eyes and shifted about in his seat uncomfortably. What was with this creature? He couldn't believe anyone would be so relentlessly compassionate. Even Flaversham, who, in his eyes, was an absolute twit, had his rough edges. This guy had barely raised his voice and was crying "mea culpa". He simply couldn't make heads or tails of it.

"Maybe sometimes people need to be told off," Globetrotter offered. "You said it yourself. She was being unreasonable."

"Yes, but I didn't mean to yell at her!"

"You weren't yelling," Globetrotter assured the distressed teacher. "You barely raised your voice. Besides, she didn't deserve sympathy. Some people won't accept an apology, and if they can't take that then they don't deserve forgiveness, regardless of the circumstances."

"What did you say?" Pinky asked, still sniffing as he stared over at Brian.

"I said some people don't deserve forgiveness. You're better off leaving them to rot in the hole they've dug for themselves."

"How can you say that?" Pinky asked, shutting off the music as the next song belted out its tunes. "Do you think you don't deserve forgiveness then, after all you've done?"

"What are you talking about?" asked Globetrotter, frowning.

"I didn't have to defend you, you know. By your logic, you don't deserve to be forgiven either. A-And maybe you don't! After all you've done to your students... Poit."

"My students?"

"Yes, Brain," said Pinky, setting the Kleenex pack to the side as he drove onto the highway. He sighed. "I-I've watched you, Brain. You... You scare them. Mrs. Judson told me about that student you traumatized years ago, and, well, no one... really likes you."

Globetrotter stared at him. Gulping, Pinky continued.

"Do you remember the first day I came here? I didn't teach that day, you know. There was a vole that came to me. He was crying. Said he was in your class, and that you'd said really mean things about him and his work. I sat with him for three hours, Brain. I think he just needed someone to talk to. He was really sweet, you know. He showed me his collection of pictures. He takes really nice landscape photos."

Globetrotter didn't know what to say to this. What Pinky was saying was raw; unfiltered. Most weren't bold enough to confront him about these matters, save for Mrs. Judson, and even she watched her step sometimes. But Pinky shot straight to the heart.

And there it was again. That feeling of... guilt? Shame? Except this time it wasn't as fleeting. It stuck to him stubbornly like glue, weighing him down in his seat, a painful reminder of his flaws. Perhaps this cooky professor had a point...

"You know... You're not at all what I expected," Globetrotter admitted freely.

"Hm?" Pinky whimpered, looking at the shorter mouse questioningly.

"When you first came to the school I thought you were a boob." He paused. "I still think you're a boob, but I didn't realize you had such... conviction."

Pinky blinked.

"I mean... I didn't think you'd question my moral ethics so... openly," continued Globetrotter.

There was another pause as Pinky looked back out at the road, pondering.

"People think I'm silly," Pinky said, in a soft and contemplative voice. "They expect me to be happy and bubbly all the time, and I try to be. But... it does get exhausting... sometimes."

Globetrotter stared at him.

"I do try to be kind to everyone," Pinky continued. "I want everyone to be happy, and have a good time. I do love everyone. I really do. Sometimes I wonder, though. I... I hope it makes a difference. I know the kids like me, but... I want the adults to like me, too. I want to make them happy. But maybe they came to the party just because... they felt bad for me... Poit."

He finished his spiel with a slight hang of the head. Globetrotter looked down at his feet, sighing resignedly.

"They did want to come," he said.

Pinky turned his head at this, his expression all innocence... and curious.

"I overheard some of them. They were all quite looking forward to it. And... you're undoubtedly the most popular teacher," Globetrotter groaned. "Everybody just loves you. And you don't need a personal attraction device for it either."

Pinky couldn't help but smile a little. So they did like him after all...

"You know, you're the first person to ever hang out with me," Pinky let out into the open. Globetrotter went wide-eyed at this, and Pinky smiled. "The first adult, I mean. I had plenty of friends growing up, but they moved and... I moved and, well, we all parted ways. When I got older, I tried making new friends, but people thought I was too... eclectic. Maybe I come off as a bit too silly, and so people think I'm that way all the time when I'm really... not. Maybe my car is just too messy, or my pants too stripe-y. Hm. I think I'm just too much for people."

He chuckled at the end of this, but it was a sad chuckle; a lonely chuckle.

Brian blinked, eyes set on Pinky as he processed all of this. He was more surprised that the mouse knew what the word 'eclectic' meant more than anything, but that lingering feeling of guilt and, dare he say it, pity... still hovered over him. This odd individual was, indeed, more complicated than was apparent by the naked eye. Perhaps he'd been too hard on him.

"I never had any friends either," voiced Globetrotter. "As an adult, nor really as a child. People thought I was too... eclectic."

Once more, Pinky stared at him, doing his best to keep his eyes on the road at the same time.

"Maybe you're not really a boob. Maybe you're more just... misunderstood. Like me...," said Globetrotter.

They stared at one another.

"Maybe... we can be eclectic together?" Pinky asked.

There was a pause for a moment. Then...

"Maybe," said Globetrotter.

And he smiled, actually smiled, at Pinky. Pinky smiled back.

It was another five minutes before they arrived at Brian's house. As before, Pinky offered to open the passenger-side door. This time, Globetrotter didn't refuse. He stepped out of the vehicle, happy to be rid of the old pizza smell. Pinky shut the door.

"Well, um, thank you... for coming," Pinky said, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I'm... sorry it wasn't very happy for you."

"Don't worry about it," replied Globetrotter.

Several seconds passed, in which both of them found the ground incredibly interesting for some reason.

"Um... Well, h-have a good night," wished Pinky.

"Yes. Um... Thank you. You too...," ended Globetrotter lamely.

Pinky turned to go, but then...

"Oof!" exclaimed Globetrotter, for he suddenly found himself in a bone-crushing hug. "H-Hey!"

"Sorry. Eheh...," Pinky apologized, setting him down immediately. "Um... G-Good night!"

And he rushed back to his car, starting it quickly and driving off before Globetrotter could have time to reply properly. Globetrotter simply stood there, at a loss for words. This was the second time he'd been hugged by that character... and in public. Not that anyone had seen them (he hoped...), but it was still mortifying.

Still, as he made his way up the pathway and back to the house, keys jingling as he fitted one into the keyhole, he looked back at where Pinky had sped off... and pondered.

/\/\/\/\/\

A sigh slipped from Pinky's lips as he drove off into the night.

Stupid. That had been stupid. Why was he always so clingy? Brain didn't like hugs. He wouldn't want that...

He signaled and turned onto the freeway.

Thoughts raced through his head.

"Globetrotter doesn't care about anyone save for 'imself, love. I know you want to see the good in everyone, but some people just don't have that..."

"... that's one angry mouse you don't want to deal with."

Honk.

"He terrorizes all of his students and no one ever does anything about it!"

"He's terrible..."

Hooooooooonk.

"... should have known he wouldn't have the guts to act on his promises..."

"... you see a poor soul ready to end her life because of a teacher and you tell me if that man is fit to teach."

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!

Pinky JUMPED and turned the wheel just in time as a giant semi almost ran into him. He'd been so distracted he hadn't even noticed himself swerving into the next lane.

He breathed heavily, shaking from ears to tail as he coasted off of the next exit, pulled into a nearby neighborhood, and parked along the curb. He was still shaking as he turned off the engine, a hand clutched to his chest as he struggled to catch his breath. He'd almost died. What an idiot. He'd almost died...!

The thoughts continued to swim through his head, pounding at his brain, one ponderous quotation after another, until he was overcome with emotion; overcome with confusion; overcome with grief. And as the party at Flaversham's sailed on, as Globetrotter fell into an uneasy sleep, and as Olivia helped Mrs. Frisby put away the last of the dinner plates, one frightened, isolated Trozologist shook in his car, buried his face in his hands, and cried.

--------------------------------

Author's Notes:

When I first started on this chapter, the goal was to get to the car ride, which was my favorite part to write. However, as I kept going, various scenarios popped into my head that I thought would better add to the drama throughout, and so I kept adding on... and adding on... and adding on, until eventually the chapter capped at 27,440 words, which is the most I've ever written for anything aside from, perhaps, a film script I recently finished. It was recommended that I split the chapter into two, but I liked how one scene flowed into the next so much that I ended up just keeping it all together in one ginormous pile, which, admittedly, is far too long. Consider it a peace offering for the four-month hiatus. Ha.

In reality, I quite enjoyed writing this all out, especially the tender and tense relationships between characters, and I hope you enjoy it, as well. Below is a list of little factoids to go with the chapter:

/\/\/\/\/\

- Nat Sherman is a brand of cigarettes that operated from 1930 until 2020. The company produced premium cigars and what was known as "luxury cigarettes". I see Globetrotter as the type who would not skimp on anything when he could afford it, and that included smokes.

- Marvell Mouse is the creation of Black Geeky Girl ( GeekyBlackGirl on Twitter) and is not my character.

- The reason why Olivia is at the school so late at times is because of Flaversham. Her father occasionally stays past normal hours (though not as late as Globetrotter), and even Mrs. Judson, who will care for Olivia and take her home early when able, has to log in extra time now and again. Olivia doesn't mind too much, however, as Mr. Pinky provides endless entertainment. She also quite enjoys delivering messages to others around the school still.

- Amos the mouse is from the Disney short Ben and Me (it's super cute; check it out), Mappy is from the arcade game of the same name, and Pip is from the Disney film Enchanted.

- Since I'm probably not going to expand upon it much in any other chapter, I'll lay it down here just in case: Yes, the insinuation that there was something between Snowball and Globetrotter is definitely there. Basically, they were very close as friends (very close...), but had a falling out for two reasons. One is because of Billie. Globetrotter had always liked her, and they dated for a while, but he didn't know how to commit (and, in truth, wasn't a great partner, and neither was she). When they split, Snowball took advantage of this immediately. He and Billie got involved, but it didn't last long (she actually left him). Occasionally, he still tries to buy back her love with gifts. She'll accept the gifts, but not his affections. What tickles Snowball more than anything, though, is watching Billie and Globetrotter have at it in ragging cat fights, which almost always happens whenever they bump into one another. The other reason is because of career. Both rodents went into schooling and both wanted the position of principal, but Snowball got it because he was more charming and headstrong. Globetrotter always resented him for this, claiming he not only stole his job, but also his girl (even though Globetrotter kinda lost her in the first place). He sees Snowball as a threat, and he also sees Pinky as a "threat" because his popularity reminds him of Snowball's popularity in the past. The main difference is that Snowball is a bully, whereas Pinky is the exact opposite.

- Originally, I was going to make Pinky the host of the party and have it be at his house, but I ended up changing it so that Flaversham hosts it in his house and Pinky lives in an apartment instead. He was still in charge of organizing the event, however, including picking out the subjects for the ceremony.

- Globetrotter taking note of where every bathroom is in every place he visits is based on personal experience. Due to medical issues (albeit not the same one as Globetrotter's), I do the same thing.

- A Shrine of Murders is an actual book published in 1993 by author Celia L. Grace.

- Richard Feynman was a real physicist who did, indeed, do research on particle physics and established the theory of quantum electrodynamics. He died in 1988.

- I actually timed myself to see how long it would take to down a drink (in my case, water) about the size of the tall tumblers that Pinky and Pip would have drunk out of, which ended up being about 36 seconds.

- Rossi is one of the most, if not the most, popular Italian last names. I kinda like the idea of Billie having ties to a mob in New York.

- Dana was Globetrotter's therapist, back when he had one. He wasn't lying when he said he didn't like her in a romantic way.

- Pinky's spiel in the car is basically an embodiment of myself, save for not having any friends into adulthood.

[katsukis-sad-angel]

NighteyeSquadCanons; During and right after the Chisaki arc

Pairings: Mirai Sasaki x Reader, Mirio Togata x Reader, and Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Summary: Same plot as my FatSquadCanons because I’m not creative

Warnings: Angst, slight smut, sweetness

BRUH THE GIF... I’M ALREADY CRYING

Mirai Sasaki

SFW

Ever since this thing with Eri and the Shie Hisaikai started, you’ve had a sense of impending doom 

Every time he walks out the door, you’re afraid he won’t come back through it

Every time he cuddles with you at night or gives you kisses, you’re afraid you’ll never feel his warmth or the sweetness of his lips again

You beg him to stay home all the time, sometimes bursting into tears

But he always goes after drying your tears and assuring you he’ll be fine

You don’t believe him

You miss him so much

As soon as the door closes, you start crying again and run to your shared bed where you bury your face in his pillow

Spends a lot of time at his office

Comes home very late

When he comes home, he has to literally peel you off of him if he wants to move away from the door

You’re a lot shorter than him

He’s 6’7”

SO

Big spoon

When he hugs you, he practically picks you up off the floor, or leans down to give you a kiss, or curls around you when its cuddling or sleeping time

He’s really lean and very muscley

When his button-down shirt and blazer came undone in the anime... WHEW sis had to pause and catch her breath

Some days, he’ll come home and you’re not there to greet him

He quickly discards his shoes and begins to search the apartment, looking for you

He finds you curled up on the bed and crying into your pillow with his pillow clutched to your heaving chest

“Mirai…” You whimper, squeezing the down pillow, “Please come home safe… I love you so much…”

“Y/n.”

You sit up, tears streaming down flushed cheeks

You attempt to scramble out of bed to get to him, but he gets to you first and pulls you into his arms, kissing you, whispering sweet things in your ear, and dabbing your tears away with his handkerchief

Yes

He carries those

They match his tie

Now he’s worried about you so he starts coming home as soon as possible so nights like those don’t happen

But they still do

A few evenings later, it is very late and you two just finished having sex

You had been trying to get pregnant for over a month now

He’s holding you close to his chest, kissing your ear and calming you down from your high

After taking a bath together, you two curl up in bed

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you m-”

DING

Nighteye picks up his phone and sees the message

He sighs

“What is it?” You ask softly, eyelids drooping

“I…” He exhales slowly, “I have to go darling.”

You sit up quickly. “Mirai! No! I really mean it this time, I-I have this horrible feeling… You… you might not come back, you might get hurt, y-you…”

You cover your face as tears begin to fall

Nighteye wraps his arms around you tightly, cradling your shivering body in his muscled arms

Rocks you back and forth, telling you he’d be fine and not to worry

With a final squeeze, he tucked you into bed and went to his closet to change into his suit and tie

You stare at the ceiling, tears streaming onto the pillow, your chest heaving and your heart pounding savagely, you choked on a sob and lurched from the bed before he could leave the room

Even with your sore legs, you manage to lock your limbs around his torso, begging him tearfully not to leave

“Mirai, please don’t go! I have a terrible feeling about this! I’m so afraid, pl-”

“Y/n.” He interrupts, effortlessly pulling you off and setting you on the bed, “I cannot stay with you, these antics need to stop. A little girl is in trouble. We have a solid plan to save her, so please stop worrying.”

He sounds upset, angry even. 

His strict tone frightens you into silent tears

“Do not follow me out of this room. Go to sleep. No more crying or whining about your ‘gut feeling.’ I’m a pro hero for fuck’s sake. I can handle myself.”

With a final glare, he left, slamming the door behind him

You wilted

Mirai never cursed around you

He never spoke to you like that

You… you just wanted to protect him

Did he really not trust you?

You whimpered and crawled onto his side of the bed

It was still warm

You curled up, clutching his pillow and fell into a restless sleep

~hours later~

That morning you had woken up, feeling unwell

The first thing that popped into your mind made you shoot out of bed, limp to the bathroom, and take a pregnancy test

Positive

You prowled around the house, watching the news for any sign of Mirai, eating, and celebrating this long-awaited achievement all alone

You couldn’t wait until he came home and for the time being, you were content

No thoughts of your husband’s death plaguing your mind

But that didn’t last long

You received a call sometime after 12 pm

It was Bubble Girl

She spoke quickly to you, telling you to hurry to the College Hospital where your husband was being held in critical condition

When you got there, you were brought to a room where you were soon joined by All Might, Centipeder, Recovery Girl, Bubble Girl, a green-haired UA student, and Eraserhead.

A doctor came in and explained a few things, stating that your husband wouldn’t see tomorrow

As though in a trance, you were led into Mirai’s room

The dim light showed you his missing arm, the bandages, the oxygen mask, and the hundreds of shiny tubes protruding from his stomach

You let your palms rest on the rails of the bed, looking down at his handsome, pale face, wishing he’d open his eyes and say something

And he did

Your sweet perfume wafted to his nostrils, rousing him from his near sleep

He opened his golden eyes, black pupils watching as you fell to your knees next to his bed, succumbing to quiet sobs

“Y/n…” He rasped

Your head shot up and your (e/c) irises fixated on his ghostly features

“Mirai… You… You dumbass.” You cried, “I told you this would h-happen. I told you I told you I t-told you over a-and over again… I-I knew it. But every time I warned you, you just waved me off. Why? Why do you do this to me?”

“Darling,” Your husband, one hand feebly reaching toward you, “I know. You were right all along.”

“I’m pregnant!” You sniffed, angrily wiping your eyes, “N-Now you’ll never see the baby and I’ll be all alone.”

“You are? That’s… I’m so happy…” He smiled.

The hand came to rest on your stomach

“You’ll be… a good mother. Don’t worry…”

“Mirai… please don’t leave me here.” You whimpered, “I c-can’t do this without you!”

“Yes you can. Trust me.”

His eyes began to close and the hand that warmed your abdomen slipped back onto the bed

“Keep smiling. You have such a beautiful one, the whole world stops. You know that? I couldn’t ask for a better wife to put up with all of my antics.”

“Mirai…”

“Smile for me… one… last… time…

*smiles*

end

LOOK. AT. THOSE. GODLY. SHOULDERS!!!!!!!!!!!

Mirio Togata

SFW

Whew

Mmk gimme a sec to wipe my eyes

Ok

Let’s begin

Mirio Togata is the sun

He is your ray of sunshine in the morning, and you are his ray of moonlight in the darkness

He feels SO FUCKING GUILTY for letting Eri go… 

That’s all he thinks about

Runs his giant hands though his golden locks, blue eyes fixated on the floor, laying rigidly in his bed, overthinking and wishing he’d made a better choice

You’ll find him like this often, curled up under the covers and talking down to himself

“You wanna save a million people? You can’t even save one little girl! You’re nothing but a-”

“Mirio?”

*comes back to reality*

“Yeah, babe?”

“You… you’ve seemed kinda down lately and I-”

“Nope! I’m fine Y/n! Don’t worry about me!”

He smiled at you, but it wasn’t his real one

You walk to the bed and sit down next to him, pulling on his big shoulders until his head was lying snugly in your lap

His legs stretched out and he sighed contentedly

You smelled good

“I know you can’t tell me much, but I… I… you never act like this and I’m really worried. Just… let me know if you need to talk, ok?”

Mirio sat up and pulled you into his arms and soon you were straddling his lap, looking up into his sweet blue eyes, your hands resting on his cheeks

He kissed the inside of your wrists, loving the way you would timidly look to the side and back into his

“I will.” He murmurs, “But, can you stay with me tonight? The bed’s cold without you…”

“Of course, Mirio.” You reply, a shy smile and slight blush creeping onto your face

You two had a nice night of cuddling

He really appreciates that you’re there for him, and getting him out of his thoughts, he’s so lucky to have you supporting him

You’re so in love with the guy, it’s not a problem

When more information started coming in and the heroes started forming a plan, you’d find him pacing around his room, nails digging into his scalp as he mumbles to himself

You never expected him to crack under pressure like this

You were afraid for him

He’d been under pressure before, though you’d never seen him crack like this

You’d been staying with him every night, making him food, studying with him, cuddling, kissing, massaging him, everything you could think of to lift his spirits, but it never lasted long

One morning, he isn’t in his bed and you get worried, but go to school knowing it had something to do with his work-study

Later that day, you get summoned to a college hospital where your boyfriend was being held

Did something happen to him?

Was he critically injured?

Did he die?

Would you get there in time to kiss him goodbye?

Was everyone else ok?

You buried your face in your hands as you waited in the lobby to see him

Then you noticed Aizawa walking towards you so you ran to him and started questioning him rapidly, tears pricking your eyes already

He lay a hand on your shoulder to silence you

“Come with me,” He said softly, “Mirio has been waiting for you.”

“B-But did something happen to him? Is he ok?” You asked, following the slouching man into an elevator

“He did get stabbed in his side and his calf, but it won’t leave lasting damage. Unfortunately, something else happened, but I think he’d prefer to tell you himself.” Aizawa sighed, pushing some hair out of his face

“Are… Are you ok Mr. Aizawa?”

“I got 10 staples. Nothing to worry about.”

A few minutes later, you walked into your boyfriend’s hospital room to find him sitting on the edge of his bed and staring out the window

“M-Mirio?” You said, closing the door behind you

He turned, gingerly lifting his leg over the bed

Then he held his arms out to you

You lurched forward into his arms, and upon feeling the solid, protective warmth of his chest and arms, you started crying

Mirio pulled you into his lap, cradling your shaking form and trying to comfort you

“Don’t cry babe… Everything’s fine! You’re ok, sssh…”

When you manage to stop crying, Mirio helps you sit up in his lap and prepares to tell you the bad news

Rubs your back soothingly, kisses the stray tears away, and says, “Baby, uh… I lost my quirk.”

…

“Excuse me?”

“One of the bad guys shot me up with something, and now I can’t use my quirk. At all.” He bowed his head

“Wh… But… you… what about Lemillion? S-Save a million people, right?”

“I’ll have to take a break from UA for awhile… so I… we won’t be together as much.”

“Yes, we have to! Don’t say you wanna break up, because I refuse! I need you! I can’t live without-”

“Woah, woah, honey! I never said that! Never!” 

He gripped you in a tight hug and you hugged him right back, gripping the back of his shirt and burying your face in his broad chest.

“I was just letting you know… that’s all! We can make this work!”

“O-Ok, you scared me a little.”

“Sorry.”

NSFW

Who said you need a quirk to have sex?

Not Mirio Togata

Despite not having a quirk, he knows how to make you feel good

He’s been home and you’ve been at school and you miss him a lot so one day you decide to head over to his house after school

Before you could even raise your fist to knock, you were abruptly grabbed and pulled into the house and into someone’s arms

Knocked the wind out of you

When you regain your breath, you lose it again because he brought you immediately into a heated kiss

Mirio has been thinking about you… in more ways than one

I’m seeing multiple kinks

Has missed your smiles, your laugh, your tender kisses and your warm hugs, but besides that, it had been almost a whole month of no sexy time beneath the sheets

Now’s his chance

Mirio WILL NOT leave you dissatisfied

He got a big dick and he knows how to use it

When he’s thus sexually frustrated, he’ll probably take you from behind, but hold up your torso so he can mark your neck

“Oooh~”

“Does it feel good, darling?” He’ll ask when he first bottoms out inside you, grasping your sides

“Y-Yes… ohmygod MIRIO!”

“So beautiful when I fuck you, you know that? Such a pretty face…”

It’s safe to say, he loves you

Your shoulders are a different color by morning

And even without a quirk, he’s the same loving and kind boyfriend

NO CRYING!! BBY STAHP

Izuku Midoriya

SFW

Things you need to know

Izuku is a cinnamon roll

Izuku is the sweetest buffest piece of broccoli to exist

HAVE YOU SEEN HIS GODLY SHOULDERS

I tried to draw him yesterday, but he ended up looking like a carrot

Izuku loves you with all his heart

Izuku gives amazing hugs

Izuku will blush if you touch him

It is inevitable

SO

During that sad arc, boi is sad

He’s always in his head, thinking about his mistake of letting Eri go, using one for all, All Might, avoiding Kaccan, All Might, how absolutely stunning you look in that uniform, and how lucky he is to have you supporting him

If you notice he’s feeling down, you take him upstairs, you discreetly cuddle on the couch, take him to McDonald’s, kiss his freckles, and do anything to get his mind off sad things

EXTRA CUDDLES

HE TAKES YOUR HOODIES

YOU SLEEP TOGETHER IN HIS ALL MIGHT MERCH INFESTED ROOM

Possible sleeping positions: Either he is or you are the big spoon, facing each other, him laying on your stomach, he rolls over in the middle of the night and accidentally crushes you under him, or you cuddled under his armpit with an arm on your back

SMALL MIGHT WILL HAVE BAD DREAMS

You need to wake him up and comfort him immediately!!

If you don’t, this is what will happen:

I, author-san will punch you

AND

You are a horrible person

AND

Babey Izukuwu will wake up by himself, crying, whimpering, scared, and doubting thoughts plaguing his mind

Anyway

You notice his zoning out at the dinner table, smiling at his fish again

That night, you enter his room and before you know what happened, you’re wrapped up under the covers with a green-haired sweetheart holding you tight

His hair is fun to touch

His freckles are fun to kiss

So are his cute lil lips

You kiss all of his scars bc he’s kinda insecure about them

He blushes A LOT

Automatically goes on a rant about why exactly he loves you

“You’re so smart and kind and beautiful, and your eyes are so pretty and your voice takes my breath away. I love you so much, I can’t say it enough.”

Continues for the next half an hour until he either runs out of breath, he falls asleep, you fall asleep, or you kiss him to make him shut up

Loves you unconditionally

Remember that

NSFW

Ok

I don’t know what yall are doing when you say Midoriya has a tiny dick

Where tf did that come from?

I’m seeing AT LEAST an 8 to 8.5-inch thing, pale in color, that’s nice and wide with thicc flushed veins going up to the tip

Come @ me

Also, like Tamaki, Izuku isn’t a fucking pushover

In recent episodes & chapters, BOI HAS GUTS TO TALK BACK TO KACCHAN

So brave, yet so naive

Will dom you, but if you wanna ride him, he’s down

He will fuck you over a counter, against the wall, in the kitchen, behind the school, in the closet, etc

When he’s horny, he doesn’t like to be mean or overbearing, he will gently make it known to you by instigating a heated kiss and being VERY touchy; rubbing your sides, squeezing your ass, lifting one of your legs onto his hip so lil Izuku can get some friction, threading his fingers through your hair, etc

So after weeks and weeks of no… activity, horniness takes over and the next night, he’s on you, marking your collarbones and making you scream his name

Into a pillow

He doesn’t want to get caught or make anyone uncomfortable

He��s cute like that

“Mmh, harder Izuku~ Harder!”

“So… tight~ Haah, Y/n!”

Knows how to please his precious girl, especially since she was so supportive during the last few weeks

Plus he has a special notebook just for you

“You like it when I touch you there baby?”

“Y-Yes, god yes~ More!”

“More? Haven’t you had enough? So greedy…”

“Nyagh~ D-Don’t stop! It feels so good Izuku…”

When all is said and done, he’ll treat you like a queen until you drift off, held safely against his chest

He feels a special responsibility and a need to protect you since you were important to him and people could use his love for you against him

Always remember, he loves you unconditionally, no matter how kinky you are

[elles-writing]

When The Worlds Collide - Part VII.

Kili x reader

gif not mine

gif not mine

gif not mine

gif not mine

gif not mine

A/N: Hey guys, next chapter! I hope you’re doing well. I hope you will like this one. We’re moving forward with the main plot and it’s gonna get long, but I feel like you don’t really mind. Also, I’m going to be working on requests (which I should’ve done quite a while ago). (29. 9., Monday)

I have to study math for an exam we have tomorrow, but lately I just try to study a lot, but my grades aren’t as good as I would like them to, I don’t understand why. I’m trying to study more than I did last year, but it always seems like my friends and schoolmates, who are not studying as much as I do, get better grades, and it feels strongly demotivating and I want to cry after every time I hear the results of the tests (today I lit almost cried, I had a bit hard time to hold tears back, when we got the results of test from the subject I’m always studying the way it works for me. I was stressed a bit, but I knew I studied well and took a lots of time and practise to make sure I know it all and I completely understand it...well...I did got C. A C for so much time spended on that subject and with help from my mom.) This chapter has somewhere from over 1084 words (Kili and Fili talking) taste of my sad mood. So yeah. Comment please what do you think of this chapter. ( 30. 9., Tuesday/Wednesday?)

(This is paragraph has been written a day later than previous A/N btw)

So, hello everybody! I hope you are going to enjoy this chapter. My grades kinda improved, I’m getting a good grades especially from English (obviously), where even the girl who gets good grades in most of other subjects is not that good in English. (I did got F from that math-shit-test as most of the class, so we will be retaking it.). I’ve been working on this chapter for a few days, so it’s pretty long, but I think you don’t really mind. (2. 10. Friday)

This chapter has gotten very, VERY long. I didn’t planned it to be that long, but ideas just kept coming to me. Sorry the chapter didn’t came out two days ago as I planned, but sometimes I was struggling to continue some dialogues and scenes, so I needed to find some prompts ideas to help me out. Hopefully you’ll forgive me. Also, yesterday were me and my brother picking some cones. It was windy and a few metres away from us landed a tree (it was not too thick, actually quite thin, but it scared me a lot).  The idea for the apple-picking came to me when I was picking an apples a day after my birthday. Also, a lots of cute gifs. (4.10. Sunday)

btw this is the cake I decorated for my bday.

picture’s mine

Word count: 4789 words

Warnings: maybe a bit angst (if I can call it like that?), fluff, maybe steamy or lemon (make out session)

MASTERLIST

Tags: @moony-artnstuff​  @whenputtingpentopaper​

You can message me if you wanna be added to a tag-list.

You got up and decided to clean up the kitchen a bit. You’ve prepared some food earlier and this quiche was the last thing you were planning to bake for today.

During the cleaning, you were thinking about the way they all got here. This was something that was inside of your mind ever since you’ve probably finally found a first clue to what exactly happened that they have appeared here, and why. You’ve decided to talk with Gandalf, Bard, Balin, Thranduil and maybe Thorin, if he wouldn’t be so stubborn, after everyone else would go to bed. You needed them to actually tell you what happened before they appeared here, otherwise you’d missed a part of the puzzle you were trying to solve.

You huffed and wiped off the desk. Your apron was hanging over a chair, but the flour was still in your hair and on your hands. You thought it would be a good idea to take a quick shower before the quiche was baked and cooled down enough to be eaten.

Thorin was with talking with Gandalf in a hallway. If anybody would hear them, they’d rather got off of the dwarf king’s way, not to mention the rage in his eyes, but the wizard was not afraid of him, of course.

„Thorin, you need to tell her where you were before you appeared here. She can be our only hope how to get back to Middle-Earth.“ The dwarf king glared at the wizard, his hands firmly folded on his chest.

„I’ve already told her. We were escaping from Mirkwood, like I said, Gandalf.“ But Gandalf was not stupid. Obviously.

„And?“ Gandalf tilted his head, looking down at Thorin.

„How could she help us? She’s a human, and from what I’ve saw and experienced in past few days, she does not have any magic abilities.“

But Gandalf knew better.

„This remindes me of that evening in Bag-End. You understimated Bilbo, Thorin, and now you are repeating it. What is so unlikable about her?“ Thorin’s gaze fell to the floor and he was silent. After a while, he spoke again.

„It’s not her exactly. It’s her and Kili. If she will get us back to Middle-Earth, like I hope she will,“ He looked at Gandalf for a while and then he looked away again.

„It will break Kili’s heart. I don’t want him to suffer, Gandalf. He is way too young for-“ Gandalf frowned.

„Kili may be young, and she is too, without a doubt...but all the things are coming in a right order, as they should. It may not be exactly in time, but in the right time, they will eventually come. Don’t forget that, Thorin.“ Thorin looked up at the wizard.

„You don’t understand, Gandalf. The way they look at each other and the way they act around each other, she’s Kili’s One, and once we will leave this place, he will suffer. I have promised to Dis and to myself to look after him and Fili. I can’t do this to any of us, it’d have destroyed all of us if we’d know he’s suffering from separation from his soulmate.“ Neither of them noticed a long shadow, whom came to join the conversation.

„It surprises me how much you care for your nephew, Thorin.“ Thorin tensed.

„Thranduil,“ He spat out and glared at the Mirkwood king, whom was looking over your hallway, finding it interesting every time he walked to it. He never seen anything similar before.

„Truly, it surprises me. It seemed as if all you could care about was the gold in Erebor and Lonely Mountain, but perhaps I was wrong.“ Thorin narrowed his eyes.

„What do you want?“ Thranduil looked down at him, calmly.

„I’m just saying, if she’s your nephew’s One, you shouldn’t act this way towards her.“ Thorin deeply frowned.

„Why are you telling this to me? It’s none of your business.“ Thanduil softly touched frame of an old small mirror, hanging on the wall. It reminded him of those in Middle-Earth, even if in reality it was a mirror you found in a vintage store.

„Isn’t it clear? If she is his One, he won’t leave without her. He would insist on staying here with her, if it would not be possible for her to go with us, well, with him to Middle-Earth. As far as I know, dwarves are far too stubborn to listen to others.“ Thorin opened his mouth to argue, but, even if he hated to admit that, he knew that there was something about it that he knew was right. Kili loved his family deeply, but a relationship with his One was something different.

When Thorin stayed quiet, soft scoff escaped to Thranduil.

„You know it’s true, don’t you?“

„Why are you telling me this?“ Thranduil sighed.

„Because I know how does the loss of soulmate feels like, and this girl is very likable, I have to admit. She’s like a daughter to me.“ Thorin noticed something behind Thranduil’s icy glare. It was quickly gone, but he noticed it.

„She remindes you of your wife,“ He said. Thanduil shot him a glare, but this time, he turned his back to him rather than argued.

„She remindes you of your wife and if you would have a daughter, it could have been someone like her,“ he said.

„So that’s why you care,“ Thorin continued. Thranduil didn’t let any emotion to show on his face, as he turned back to him and Gandalf.

„But why her? Why did it had to be her?“ Thorin looked at Gandalf.

„You will find out, Thorin.“

Oh, great. Another riddle, as if there wouldn’t be enough of them to solve already, thought Thorin to himself.

After you‘ve cleaned the kitchen a bit, you went to take a quick shower. You went as quickly as possible through the living room, so you didn’t have to talk to anyone. You thought that the almost-kiss between you and Kili have made things highly awkward and unsure, and when both of you were avoiding each other’s gaze, you thought you were perhaps right.

When the door closed and Fili heard your steps futher and futher away, he looked at his younger brother. Kili was refusing to look up so he wouldn’t meet your gaze.

„What happened, Kee?“ He nudged him.

„Did I interrupted somethin‘ earlier?“ He asked. Kili sighed.

„I almost kissed her,“ He mumbled. Fili’s eyes widened.

„You did what?!“

„I almost kissed her, Fee, but then you walked in and-“ Fili blinked a few times, still not being sure if he heard correctly. Kili’s voice got more quiet, telling his brother a thing he didn’t wanted anybody to tell Thorin, because he seemed to dislike Y/N. Quite a lot.

„I really like her. She’s very kind, nice, clever, pretty-“ He started listing things he liked about you with dreamy eyes. Fili looked around.

„Alright, I got it, Kee. But why don’t you just tell her?“

Kili didn’t told this to Fili, but once, when you were showing him how does phone works (not that he remembered much, he was more confused, but it was fun regardless), he’ve seen some photos of a guy, when you tapped on a different button, but you have quickly clicked to a different app and he didn’t had your phone in his hands since then. He didn’t knew who it was, but he thought it was probably somebody you were courting.

„I think-I think she’s taken, Fee. How could she not? I mean, look at her-“ Fili looked at Kili and Kili shook his head, but before he could open his mouth, his brother stormed out to find you. Obviously, Kili runned after him, shouting his brother‘s name.

You got out of a bathroom with our hair wet and in sweat-pants and oversized t-shirt, noticing Fili and Kili (you could not miss them anyways).

„Y/N!“

„Fili!“

„What’s going on, guys? What happened?“ You asked concerned. Fili shook his head.

„No, nothing happened! Well, we were wondering, if you are courting someone-“ You looked at them two, a bit amused. You placed your hands on your hips.

„Oh so this is what’s happening. Well,“ You looked at both of them with a dramatic pause.

„I’m not.“

„But what about that male in your phone?“ Kili asked and you remembered you accidentally tapped to your phone gallery.

„It was just a picture from the internet that I used for a character from book. I do use pictures for my reading journal, so it’s more aesthetically pleasing.“ You noticed the way Kili’s head lifted up and his typical cheeky grin found a way back on his face and winked at you. You looked away, blushing, and Fili cleared his throat.

„I will, uh, go back to reading. Don’t be too loud though-“ Kili was immediatelly running after him, whilst Fili was laughing and you chuckled and went after them. You’ve overheard some pieces of their converstaion.

„...don’t haunt for me, I’m your older brother...“

„...that’s why I’m doing it...“

„...IT WILL FALL DOWN!!“ You’ve heard a noise of breaking glass and quickly made your way to the kitchen.

They broke a few glasses you’ve left there. You sighed, not being surprised anymore.

„Are you okay? KILI-!“ You raised your voice when he tried to tidy the glass, but cutted himself accidentally. You shook your head and headed to one of the kitchen cabinets for take out a desinfection, tweezer and a bandage and a few other things. Of course, it would be best if you could get him to a doctor, but he wasn’t supposed to even be in this world.

„Sit down, Kee, I’ll look for some pieces of glass that could be there.“

Oh, how Kili wanted to assure you he accidentally cutted himself many times before by broken glass and used to have much worse injuries! But he also wanted to enjoy your attention only towards him for second time that evening.

You sat down to him and took his hand into your palms. You were touching it softly, not putting too much pressure on it, if there would be any pieces of a broken glass.

There was not too much blood, so when you were done and sure there were no pieces of a glass, you putted some desinfection on a cotton pad and started carefully cleaning it. You were sitting in a silence and you wanted to ask so many questions about life in Middle-Earth and Kili’s life before the quest in general, but you weren’t sure if he’d wanted to tell you about it, and if yes, where should you start.

„So, uhm, I see you and Fili are quite troublemakers, aren’t you?“ You asked with your gaze settled on his palm.

„We aren’t!“ You looked up on him with slightly rised eyebrow.

„Oh, alright, we are. A bit.“ You smirked at him.

„Only a bit?“

„Maybe a little more,“ he winked at you. You started putting the bandage over the cut.

„Oh, so that’s why you’re always breaking my mugs and glasses.“ You finished bandaging.

„It was an accident!“ Kili exclaimed and threw his hands up to air, but he didn’t realized he slapped you to face by accident. You let out an ‚ow,‘ and he looked at you concerned.

„I’m so sorry Y/N-“

„It’s okay, Kili, it was an accident,“ you said. He shook his head.

„No, I mean it! Dwarves are stronger than humans, and I didn’t and don’t want to hurt you in any way,“ He said, cupping your face in his palms and looking over your jaw and cheek.

„I’m really okay, Kili. I know you wouldn’t do this on a purpose,“ You said quietly, feeling his closeness. He looked in your eyes, then on your lips and back to your eyes, as if asking for permission. You did the same thing and cupped his face, feeling the scruff on your palms, and when your eyes locked, you looked back to each other’s lips and slowly closed the gap.

At first, your kisses were slow, a bit clumsy and at some point even awkward, but also careful, as if trying to figure out what to do next – you could tell that neither of you had been kissing a lot before – but it was sweet nonetheless. His lips were warm and you felt his scruff on your cheeks. You giggled and broke the kiss for a moment.

„Your beard is tickling me,“ You whispered and kissed him again, before he could start to say it was no real beard. You will tell him about this later. You wanted him to know you found him attractive and he had nothing to be ashamed of, especially his lack of beard.

You placed your arms around his neck to pull him closer, his hands found their way to your back and pulled you closer, too, so you were sitting on his lap now. Your kisses were more hungry now, with more passion in them, as if you’d never wanted to let each other go. His hands in your hair and your hands in his hair, to keep you even closer, if that was even possible.

When you pulled away and gasped for air, Kili let his forehead let his to rest against yours. You closed your eyes.

„I-love you,“ you let out a breath.

„I love you too, amrâlimê,“ he said and kissed you again, but you smelled a strange smell and furrowed your brows. Actually, it was not that strange smell. You quickly pulled away and jumped on your feet.

„I didn’t turned off the oven!“

„But you turned me on,“ Kili winked at you and looked how your face got stained with soft pink, as you were putting the quiche out of the over and turning it off. You placed it on the cook and looked back at him.

„Oh, so that’s why you’re so hot.“ You said faster than you thought and embarrassed looked away, hearing him to chuckle.

„That was a good one, amrâlimê!“ He said and you sleepishly looked back at him.

„Now,“ Kili smirked as you were tidying up the desinfection, cotton pads and other stuff.

„I think I’d be nice to continue in our earlier activity, amrâlimê,“ he said and winked at you. You smirked.

„I think it would be indeed very nice, Kee, but now we have to prepare the dinner, because I don’t wanna make your uncle even more angry,“ You said half joking. Kili shook his head and furrowed brows.

„It’s okay, I mean, Thorin hated Bilbo in the beginning, but now he would protect the hobbit with his life...he will grow to like you, amrâlimê, I promise you.“ He had his puppy eyes again, as if you could not believe him.

„And I truly mean it, I love you.“ He said and you felt a blissfull feeling along with a lots of butterflies in your stomach while he told you those three words. He loved you. He truly did. And you loved him too.

„I love you too, Kili.“ You said, and in a few seconds, you were kissing again. He pulled you to his lap and you run your hands through his hair, slightely pulling it when he started kissing you on your jaw and neck, to help you to keep quiet. You closed your eyes and let yourself enjoy that moment of closeness, warmth and only you two. When you got impatient, you kissed his lips again.

When you pulled away and gasped to get some air, you noticed Kili smirking at you. You blushed and hid your face to crook of his neck.

„Stop it,“ you murmed and he kissed your hair and hugged.

„What, I can’t even look at the woman I love?“ He said dramatically and acted offended. You giggled.

„You know what I mean. I’m blushing.“

„Blush looks good on you.“

„No, it does not!“ You looked up on him with narrowed gaze and playful lights in your eyes.

„Oh, it does, princess.“ You froze and looked up on him.

„Well, if we are going to be courting, then...I mean, you’re a prince, and I’m not from a royal family...I don’t know how to act as a princess...“ You started stumbling over your words. Kili gently kissed your forehead.

„I don’t care. I love you, Y/N. Don’t worry about it, we can solve that later,“ He kissed your temple. It was such a nice moment.

You jumped up when a knock on a door cought yours and Kili‘s attention. You quickly fixed your hair and clothes and opened the door.

„Oh, Bilbo! I, uh, I just was about to call you for the dinner-“ The hobbit looked relieved.

„Uh, that’s great! I mean, I don’t want to be rude or anything, I would‘ve help you out of course-“ You smiled at him.

„You’re not being rude, Bilbo, don’t worry,“ You quickly checked Kili and found out he was nowhere to see. You furrowed your brows and stepped out of the door so Bilbo could come in.

„Kili? C’mon, it is not time to play hide and s-EEK!“ You screamed when he hugged you from the back.

„You idiot, do you know how did you scared me?!“ You tried to get out of his arms while he was laughing.

„Oh, c’mon princess, you don’t mind.“ You rolled your eyes.

„You are far more graceful and quiet on your feet than I thought. I should be concerned. I don’t want to get scared again when you will jump on me again,“ He chuckled, kissed your cheek and let go of you, because Bilbo started looking quite uncomfortable.

The dinner was not that bad, even if you could sense that something was going on with Thorin, Thranduil and Gandalf. They were way too quiet (not that they usually weren’t, but Thranduil didn’t even talked to Legolas), and Thorin didn’t paid attention to his nephews (he usually told them to stop doing something that was too much, but now he seemed to be lost in his thoughts).

When the dinner was over, Bilbo insisted on washing the dishes, explaining he just wanted to do something like that to feel a bit closer to home (quietly, obviously. He didn’t wanted anyone to have fun from him.).

Meanwhile, you looked through your library, and when you found what you were looking for, you pulled it out and started flipping through the pages.

It was a book about constellations, stars and planets. When you didn’t found what you were looking for, you shook your head and placed the book back. When this repeated a few times, you got back to another source you’ve had – the internet.

You were sitting there for a long time, but at least it gave you some understanding and it was more and more fitting to your theory. But why them, why each one of them...there must be a reason... you thought.

You went to sleep around two in the morning and fell to the bed. Your dreams were full of moon phases, Kili’s puppy eyes and smile and your stolen kisses.

You woke up and felt a smell of something sweet. You furrowed your brows. Who is cooking? You thought. You got up and made your way to the kitchen.

The closer you were, the more you recognized.

„...she said she likes cinammon...“

„Well, I think she once said she prefers maple syrup...“

„...of course not, she loves chocolate!“ You slightely blushed. It was Kili, obviously, and the way he said it could be understood only by you and him. You adored his eyes, which he obviously noticed.

„...Thorin, don’t stand here, I need to be walking there! Just go and sit down!“ That was Bilbo, getting very angry for a hobbit.

„You are not helping!“ He said to someone else and you chuckled. Oh yeah, Bilbo was a great cook, and though he found your kitchen interesting, to say at least, he was a quick learner. And, obviously, the best cook out of them all.

„Good morning, Y/N,“ You’ve noticed Bard. You nodded at him and yawned.

„Uh-good morning, Bard,“ You yawned once again.

„What are they doing in the kitchen?“ You asked.

„That’s a surprise.“

„I can hear them all the way here.“ You both chuckled.

„Well, what time is it?“ You asked, wanting to know how long did you slept.

„It’s going to be ten in the morning.“ He told you and you noticed a bit of his fatherly tone in it.

„Time for breakfast,“ You said and went straight to the kitchen, feeling the delicious smell of pancakes floating in the air. You tip-toed to the kitchen and carefully looked into the slightly opened door.

Bilbo was the main cook, as everyone could say. He was making sure that anybody ate the prettiest pancakes. Then there was Fili and Kili, arguing over your favourite filling. Balin was looking over them along with Gandalf, as they were discussing something and sitting in the corner. Thranduil and Legolas were watching them, but also engaged in their own discussion. Thorin was watching over the kitchen, making sure Kili and Fili weren’t breaking anything. And Dwalin, well, he stood near Gandalf and his brother, visibly not happy with what they were talking about.

You pushed the door open and stepped in, yawning. You were pretty hungry and needed to eat something.

„Good morning, everyone.“ Most of them looked at you with wide eyes, as if coming too early and ruining a surprise for you, yourself.

„G-good morning, miss Y/N,“ you’ve heard Bilbo to mutter, and some other ‚good morning’s‘ from others.

„Are these pancakes?“ You stepped closer and looked over the hobbit. Bilbo was certainly not four feet tall, he was around a foot, foot and a half shorter than Thorin.

It were pancakes. Obviously.

„You did all of this?“ You looked over the kitchen, where some sweet pasteries were and Fili and Kili, whom were arguing over your favourite pancake filling earlier, having a chocolate, maple syrup, a pack of cinammon, some bananas and apples and a few other items lying around the table.

„Yes, we-we did. We want to thank you for your kidness and how you are helping us to find our way back home,“ Said Bilbo.

„You’re always the one to cook, so we decided to cook something for you as well,“ Bard piped up from the doorway.

„But as you can see, we are not really a cooks,“ Fili piped up and nudged his brother. Bilbo shot him a glare and you giggled, causing Thoin’s eyes to soften for a second, which you didn’t noticed.

„It’s pretty kind from you anyways,“ You looked over them with a proud smile.

After your breakfast, which you took to a corner to living room (the’d all stare at you and you didn’t liked that), you’ve decided to go apple picking with them to your backyard. You prepared some baskets and jackets and hoodies, because it was quite cold and windy outside.

After you’ve changed from your pyjamas, you told them you were going to be picking the apples and just in general to go out to your backyard.

It was quite a nice idea.

Until you told them to put on the jackets, because it was cold and windy outside.

„It cannot be here more cold than in Blue Mountains,“ said Kili, seeming absolutely sure. You raised your eyebrow and shrugged your shoulders.

„If you think so,“ you said and made your way out.

You looked around and decided to go to the shortest tree. You noticed Bilbo coming shortly after you.

„Were you picking apples during autumn in Shire too, Bilbo?“ He smiled a little.

„Oh yeah, it was a nice thing to do, through it took a while.“ He looked up at you and you pointed towards the shortest tree.

„I think we can start with this one, most of the apples are pretty much close to the ground, so we don’t have to climb up on the tree-“

„I bet I’ll climb up faster, Fili!“

„Are you sure you wanna bet?“ You and Bilbo turned around and noticed Fili and Kili standing beneath the tallest apple tree that was at your backyard. You frowned.

But before you could say anything, both of them were already climbing up the tree. You were sure they were climbing up trees before, but still, it made you feel anxious.

„I won!“ You’ve heard Kili’s voice, full of pride, and you chuckled.

„That’s great, so now come down, you two!“ You said, walking into that direction already.

You stood under the tree, looking up, younr hands resting on your hips. Soon, they appeared between the branches. You’ve seen Kili’s happy face, through Fili said.

„If I wouldn’t slipped up, I’d won,“ but he didn’t seemed to be that mad at his brother. Kili jumped down and cheekily smiled at you.

„Oh, here’s my beautiful princess.“ He came to you and kissed your cheek. When he noticed your pouting face, he smirked.

„Someone’s mad, as I can see.“ You narrowed your eyes. His brown eyes widened.

„But I won!“ You sighed and looked into his puppy eyes.

„I’m not doubting that, Kee.“ You looked up.

„You were climbing up trees a lot in Middle-Earth, I guess.“ The brothers grinned.

„Oh, of course we did! You should’ve seen Uncle’s face when Kili fell from one tree when he was little and broke his leg for the first time.“ Fili said and both him and Kili remembered that memory. You pointed to tree where Bilbo was meanwhile picking apples.

„I’d rather not seen his face if something would happened to you now. Anyways, I’ll be over there and picking apples with Bilbo.“ You went to join the hobbit again.

You didn’t noticed the way Fili smirked at his brother, when you were out of earshot.

„So you and Y/N, aye?“ Kili’s eyes widened, but he quickly looked away.

„I don’t know what are you talking about, Fee.“

„Oh, so you don’t know? You are always checking her out, don’t you think I didn’t noticed that.“ Kili’s ears reddened and Fili laughed.

„Alright, we’re courting!“ Fili stopped, looked at his brother, then at you, talking to Bilbo, and started laughing again. Kili furrowed his brows.

„You aren’t supposed to laugh!“ When his older brother didn’t stopped, Kili murmed to himself.

„I’m embarrassed,“ Fili stopped laughing to catch a breath.

„I knew it, I knew you two will end up together! Oh, I won, I can’t believe that!“ Kili’s eyes widened.

„You-you made a bet? With who?!“ Fili smirked.

„There’s a few of them. Now let’s go,“ He said. Kili’s jaw fell.

„Wait what? Who-? How-? When-?“

But Fili was already walking towards you and Bilbo to medium-height tree. Kili did a pouting face and decided to join you.

„What’s the matter?“ Kili walked from the back to you and threw one arm around your shoulders and the other one around Fili’s shoulders.

„I will climb up the tree and pick the apples here, but I need someone to put the baskets down. And to make sure I won’t fall down,“ You said.

„Oh, don’t worry, princess, I will make sure that if you fall, you’ll have a soft landing.“ He winked at you and you felt heat raising to your cheeks. Bilbo cleared his throat.

„I-uh-I’ll go and pick some apples where I can reach,“

You climbed up the tree with an empty basket on your forearm and looked around. You placed the basket between some branches, so it was secure, and started carefully reaching for the apples. Kili, Fili or Bilbo would occasionally tell you where you should step, so you wouldn’t fell down.

„More to the left, lass,“ Fili.

„You’re almost there!“ Bilbo.

And so on.

You were almost done, when one of your feet mistaken a free spot between branches for a branch and you were already falling down.

You fell down on something-well, someone-soft. You’ve heard Kili‘s groaning underneath you.

„Are you okay?“ You asked Kili.

„I’m totally alright, told ya you’ll have a soft landing,“ he grinned at you and you playfully rolled your eyes and gave him a peck on lips. He rolled you over, so now he was on top of you, and started kissing your whole face. You were laughing.

„Kili, we need to finish this before it’ll be dark.“

„Hmm, tomorrow is a day too,“ He argued and you took all the strength you had and rolled him over, so you were on top.

You stood up and noticed Bilbo’s jaw hanging open. Fili looked more...well, he seemed to be pretty proud.

[jeromevalseka]

SCAREBAT FIC RECS:

Equivalency Series by @neyiea

The evolving relationship of Jonathan Crane and Bruce Wayne.

Working with the Dark: Their excursion into the Green Zone had proven fruitful, but not everyone seems to have had as good a time as Scarecrow.

There's an Echo of Myself in You: “Tell me, Bruce, what do you think you would see if I used my fear-toxin on you?”

Bruce looks straight into Jonathan’s eyes, keeping his face purposefully impassive as he says, “Nothing that I haven’t already lived through. Nothing that hasn’t already made me stronger.”

Tell Me a Scary Story: It's difficult to have a proper date in No Man's Land, but they make do in their own way. 

notes: this series makes me lose my whole mind! i don’t think my words would do it any justice. the development of bruce & jonathan’s relationship, the slow-build of trust, jonathan’s reluctant character development...amazing. stupendous. everything i could ever want. 

Spooked by @neyiea

Bruce somehow gets wrangled into tagging along on Selina and Bridgit's date to a haunted house. It goes about as well as he expects it to (which is to say; not at all) and his hair-trigger reflexes are set off at the worst possible moment. 

Or:

How Jonathan got kicked while working at his seasonal job, but he also got a cute boy's phone number.

notes: meet-cutes! an alternate universe where teenagers are allowed to be happy! background bridgit/selina! the whole package! 

a moment at the start of history by @queergordon

It must a Wednesday, Jonathan rationalizes. Because it used to be a Sunday, on Sunday something went wrong, in his office. Visions, yes, and acidic smell, sharp and bitter, he recalls this – and then Monday, in his bed, fighting a migraine. Tuesday, yesterday, he’s not sure what he did. But it must be Wednesday, and the visions came back, rushed in like a great, black nasty tidal wave.

notes: no exaggeration....i think of this fic like once a week. it’s set in the future where bruce is established as batman and its just........please read it. 

tomorrow? by @alpacasandravens

It's No Man's Land, and Bruce finds out that maybe he and the Scarecrow aren't so different after all. (a scarebat story somehow featuring neither dark!bruce nor a redeemed!jonathan)

notes: both a really good relationship study AND character study for both jonathan and bruce, that deals really well with how complicated any relationship between the two would be. somehow still manages to be really tender!

those nights by @alpacasandravens

“Friend.” The word is so soft as to be almost unintelligible, and Bruce thinks it probably came from an original sentence where the other words were too quiet to be heard. Something like ‘You’re my friend.’ This was complicated territory. Bruce is glad Jonathan considers them to be friends, but he’s not sure if he would consider Jonathan his friend. At sixteen, Jonathan was an enemy, and at nineteen he would have liked to use the word ‘boyfriend,’ and now - enemy again? ‘Friend’ seems like an oversimplification.

It's never simple, not in No Man's Land or when Bruce returns to Gotham after 10 years, but they do their best.

notes: sometimes....things that are canon.....hurt the most. listen. listen. this is SO good and SO painful and just thinking about it drives me crazy. it’s non-chronological which honestly i think is one of my favorite parts but it also makes it hurt so much more. 

Blue Ink by @she-loves-you

high school au where bruce and jonathan sit at the same table throughout the day (like they both take the same history class but bruce is first period and jonathan is last) and because it’s so fucking boring they doodle on the desks until one day they start writing messages to each other. and one time bruce shows up after school to ask the teacher a question and he catches jonathan writing and he’s like “oh fuck he’s c u t e”

notes: listen. i read this and i was like. jenny slate /SCREAMS/ another really adorable, fluffy fic for when you don’t want to deal with the stress of canon.

a murder of crows by aesthetically

He’d expected Bruce Wayne to flee from Gotham, tail tucked between his legs like the rest of those who could afford it.

Oh, and how wrong he was.

notes: this is the fic that made me crawl back to gotham with my tail between my legs. it’s just unbelievably fun and jonathan’s characterization made me !!!

MY FICS (AKA SHAMELESS SELF PROMOTION):

now, i don’t want to self promote too much......but i also have a few scarebat fics you might be interested in!

i don't want to rest in peace Series by @jeromevalseka

Post-canon exploration centered around the question: what would happen if Bruce and Jonathan met?

take the white pill (you'll feel alright): In his defense, Bruce doesn't mean to sleep with the Scarecrow.

and i want to fight but i can't contend: Jonathan knew fear, just like he knew that Bruce Wayne was running from his own. That wouldn't do.

in the face of blind optimism: Jim Gordon had been enjoying a quiet day in the office. Then Jonathan Crane was arrested.

notes: since these are my fics i won’t say much. BUT if you’re looking for character studies as well as plot you make enjoy them! 

step into my candy store by @jeromevalseka

Jeremiah wasn't the only thing lurking in the Dark Zone.

notes: tldr, jonathan is horny and an asshole.

our lips are getting looser by @jeromevalseka

"You wanna get high?"

It's a bad idea and Bruce knows it. Of course, that doesn't mean he says no.

notes: high school au & shotgunning!!!!!!!!!!! like. 90% shotgunning. that’s literally it. 

say you can't breathe without me by @jeromevalseka

In one world, Thomas and Martha Wayne give birth to a healthy baby boy who they name Bruce. He becomes a hero.

This is not that world.

notes: an au with fem!scarebat wherein bruce isn’t a hero and jonathan definetly isn’t one either. 

[39hystericalqueens]

It’s A Hard Life (Brian May x Reader) Chapter 1

This series was written alongside a companion playlist. Each song on the playlist is related to a certain scene or moment within the story and while this fic can 100% be read without the playlist, it adds so much to the story to listen along as you read. Throughout this series, you will see numbers in parentheses within the text. Each number corresponds to a track on the playlist. For example, if you saw: (1), this would mean play the first track on the playlist before continuing on reading. Some of the songs serve to set the mood, some correspond with a song that is actually playing in the story, and some tell part of the story better than I can and so they help to drive the plot. I will say again that you don’t need the playlist to understand and enjoy this fic but I strongly recommend at least checking it out. 

MASTERLIST

Chapter 1

Warnings: Some swearing

A/N: It’s finally here! The first chapter of my Brian May x Reader fic, It’s A Hard Life. I worked really hard on this so I hope you all enjoy! Additionally, I don’t have a taglist yet so if you like what you read please message me and I’ll be sure to tag you in all future installments. 

Word Count: 4.8k (she’s a long first chapter)

October 1969

*beep beep beep*

*beep beep beep*

It never ceased to amaze you how jarring the sound of your alarm clock could be. Loud and unrelenting, it was especially obnoxious this morning because it signaled one thing: the beginning of the week. Grudgingly, you rolled over to check the time. 

6:45 AM

Ugh. In an hour you’d have to be in class, and not just any class. Professor Wesham’s Intermediate Music Theory course was taught at 8am sharp every morning five days a week. Professor Wesham was a rather vile man with a love for discipline, trick questions, and embarrassing his students in front of the rest of the class. He had no interest in being a professor and mentioned that at any moment he saw fit. Rather, he believed that music theory was a subject that very few could teach correctly, and so it was his duty as a musician to impart those teachings upon young students, no matter how much he hated it. If you could have you would have dropped his class after the first week, but for a degree in music performance, all levels of theory were required.

You looked over at the clock again. 

7:02 AM

C’mon Y/N, gonna have to get up sooner or later. 

With quite a bit of effort, you finally pulled yourself up and out of bed and into the first pair of jeans you saw lying on the floor. 

(1)

____

“...so when we’re looking to find a mode of a scale we can look to the intervals for the answers. Each mode has its own unique combination of whole tones and semitones, so if you know the patterns you can accurately alter the scale…”

As expected, class that morning was hellish. A thirty-minute lecture on the basics of modes followed by another twenty minutes of history and you found yourself slowly drifting back to sleep. Your thoughts were soon taken over by memories of being curled up in bed this morning and fantasies of what you would be eating for lunch in a few hours. 

Maybe spaghetti? Or soup? I could really go for soup today. With luck they’ll have that creamy tomato one that I love down at the cafe...

“Miss Y/L/N?!” Professor Wesham’s voice rang out through the lecture hall  

Shit.

“Miss Y/L/N I asked you a question, but it appears as though you can’t be bothered to pay attention to what I’m saying this morning. Have you heard a word of what I’ve said?” 

You opened your mouth to protest, but nothing came out. 

“That’s what I thought. Can anyone else answer my question? Anyone at all? Or are you all just going to sit there and stare at me like a bunch of deadbeats?!” 

Silence filled the hall and for a moment it seemed as though he was about to give up and move on when suddenly he yelled,

“Susie! What is the C Mixolydian scale?”

From the back of the hall, a faint voice answered, 

“It’s the 5th mode of the F major scale, it follows the Mixolydian interval pattern of whole whole semi whole whole semi whole, and the notes are C D E F G A and B flat.” 

“Correct.”

And with that, he moved on forward with the lesson. 

I could have answered that, you thought to yourself, all the bastard needed to do was repeat himself.

You sighed and silently took notes for the rest of the period. 

When class let out you made a beeline for the door, hurrying out of the building and down towards the green commons in front. You didn’t stop walking until you saw the sign for The Cafe. Located right in the center of the music department, The Cafe was your go-to spot. Coffee and pastries in the mornings, sandwiches and soup for lunch, and full-on dinner seven nights a week. Although technically open to the general public, the music students at Ealing had claimed the place for themselves long ago, and you had never seen it empty in your entire time at the college. Today was no exception. You pushed your way in and headed straight for the counter to order. 

“One creamy tomato soup please,” you said to the woman at the counter, and with your table number in hand, you found a small booth in the corner and collapsed into it. 

It had been a particularly difficult week for you. The new term just started a few weeks ago and already your professors were piling on work. Theory worksheets, composition assignments, and three new solos had all been handed to you in the past few weeks, and it wouldn’t have been so bad if you didn’t also have a job that demanded long shifts late at night. You worked at Selmer’s, the music store in town and, due to your schedule, almost exclusively worked the night shifts from  6 until closing at midnight. It wasn’t a bad gig by any means, in fact you really liked working there. You never knew who would walk through the door. One moment it would be a broke uni student popping in to buy new guitar strings and the next it could be a famous musician like Pete Townshend. Okay so maybe not Pete Townshend, but you had once sold Jim McCarty a set of drumsticks. It was your one claim to fame. 

As you ate your soup you enjoyably became lost in your own thoughts, so much so that you didn’t notice when someone sat down across from you. 

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” 

The voice of your best friend Freddie interrupted your quiet contemplation. You loved him to death but sometimes he really had the worst timing. 

The story of how you two met was actually quite funny. It was back in September of last year, the beginning of your first year of uni. The night before classes were set to start you had gone to a party and somehow ended up right in the middle of a game of truth or dare, only the rules had been altered slightly so that anyone who chose truth also had to take a shot. Being the relatively shy person that you were, you hadn’t taken many dares and as a result found yourself to be rather drunk. 

“Alright c’mon Y/N,” said a guy named Greg (he was in your year and studying music as well) “you can’t pick truth forever.”

“Ok fine, dare”

“I dare you,” Greg continued, “to make out with Freddie.” He gestured to a man who appeared to be just as drunk as you were sitting across the circle. He laughed and said, 

“Whenever you’re ready darling, I’ll just be over here waiting.” With a roll of your eyes toward Greg, you had crawled your way across the circle, straddled Freddie’s lap, and started to viciously make out with him to the best of your abilities in your drunken state. 

The next morning you had woken up wickedly hungover and as you walked down the street to find something for breakfast you had bumped into none other than Freddie from the night before. He had laughed at the state of both of you (“we need to make sure that neither one of us ever drinks that much again!”) and offered to take you out to breakfast and the rest was history. It was definitely an odd way to start a friendship, but you two found that you just clicked together. His outspoken nature balanced out your tendencies to sink back into the shadows, and your level-headedness counteracted his love of making decisions on a whim. It really was, at least you two thought so, the perfect friendship. 

“Hello? Y/N? Is anyone home in there?” Freddie continued as you looked up from your food. 

“Hey Fred,” you said, coming to terms with the fact that your time for quiet contemplation was over. “What brings you down here? I thought you had a class way at the other end of campus this morning.” 

“I did. And then I decided that I was feeling a bit peckish and could go for a bowl of The Cafe’s famous tomato soup, even if it is all the way on the other side of school. But this worked out perfectly, me running into you here, because I have something important to tell you!” 

He dramatically reached his hands out and motioned for you to take them in yours. 

“You know I have been following this band called Smile around for ages.” 

You nodded.

“And you know I’ve been begging you to come out and see one of their shows with me” 

Once again you nodded. At least once a month (if not more) Freddie would try and drag you along to one of their shows despite your efforts to tell him that rock concerts really weren’t your thing. 

“Well recently I’ve started to hang around with them properly, them being the band, and we’ve become rather close. You and I both know Tim of course but it’s the other band members that I’ve really started to click with. We’re even talking about getting a flat together. They still won’t let me sing in the band, but that’s an issue for another day. What I need to tell you is that they’re playing a free gig tomorrow night right here at Ealing and you and I are both going!”

You opened your mouth to protest but Freddie kept talking. 

“And don’t even try to get out of this one. I know for a fact that on Tuesdays you only work until 7, and I also know that you don’t have plans afterward because yesterday on the phone you expressed to me just how boring your week was going to be. So unless within the last 24 hours you have made plans to go out late on a Tuesday night after work, you have no excuse not to go with me to this.” 

You stared back at him in disbelief. 

“Alright Fred, you got me fair and square. I will go with you tomorrow,”

“Excellent!” he exclaimed, “I’ll be at Selmer’s to pick you up from work at 7 PM sharp tomorrow. Oh, this is going to be so fun!” 

“Sounds like a plan,” and then you added, “And just because I’m going this time it doesn’t mean you’ll get me to go next time.” 

“Fair enough,” Freddie said, “but you’re going to have so much fun tomorrow night that I won’t even have to ask you to go with me again.” 

And with that he sprung up and made his way over to the counter to order some food, leaving you alone to wonder what on earth you had gotten yourself into. 

——

The store was surprisingly slow for a Tuesday evening. Two hours into your shift and only three people had come in, and all within ten minutes of each other. To kill time you had started reorganizing the reed display, but quickly lost interest and for the past hour and a half you had simply been sitting behind the counter, listening to the old rock n roll music that played in the background, and thinking about nothing in particular. 

(2) 

🎵Without her I will be in misery (oh oh oh)

In misery (ooh ooh ooh)

My misery (la la la la la la) 🎵 

As the song came to a close you heard the bell over the door jingle, alerting you that someone had just walked through the door. You craned your neck around the counter to see a guy with long dirty blond hair looking around frantically as though he had lost something. 

“Hi,” you said, “Welcome to Selmer’s, can I help you find anyth-“

“Guitar strings!” he nearly shouted, “I need guitar strings!” 

“Okay,” you said slowly, “do you have any idea as to which type of strings?” 

“Oh shit...uh, I don’t know. The normal kind I guess? I just need strings!” he once again looked around frantically, eyes finally settling on the clock on the wall behind you. “Shit! I’m so going to be late!” 

“Ok slow down a second,” you said calmly, “what’s all the hurry about? What, are you about to go onstage any second now?” You had meant it as a joke but to your surprise, he screamed, 

“Yes!” 

“Oh shit sorry I didn’t actually think you were- ok, um, so you don’t know the type of string but do you know what model the guitar is?”

“It’s uh...oh dammit I don’t know.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but what kind of guitarist doesn’t know the kind of guitar they play?” 

“I’m not the guitarist,” he said, “I’m the drummer. Our guitarist broke a string like ten minutes ago so I ran out to grab him more while he helped the rest of our band keep setting up.”

“Ah, I see,” you said. “Well since you don’t know which kinds of strings he uses I’ll just give you some Fender 12 gauges. They’re pretty standard, I’ve got a lot of people who use them so hopefully that should be ok.” 

“Yeah, those should be alright.”

You rang up the package and handed it to him. 

“Thank you so much, you just saved our show.”

“My pleasure,” you said as you handed him the strings, “I hope these will work out for you guys tonight, and if not, well then you didn’t buy them here.” 

He laughed at your comment. 

“You’re funny,” he said. “Normally I would stay around and chat, maybe ask for your number, but I do kind of have to be going or else my bandmates will have my head on a spike. But it was great to meet you…uh….”

“Y/N,” you answered his unspoken question. 

“Great to meet you Y/N, I’m Roger.” Is all he said before turning on his heel and sauntering out through the doorway. You could tell he was trying to maintain a cool, laid back composure despite having burst through your door in a panic not ten minutes prior. You laughed to yourself, wondering if you would ever see him again. 

Looking at the clock you saw that it was eight till 7. Freddie would be here any minute. You got right to work closing up the store for the night. You were right in the middle of locking the window display cases when once again you heard the bell over the door ring. 

“Hello darling I hope you’re ready for a concert!” Freddie’s melodious voice sang out. 

“Hey Fred, just give me two more minutes and I’ll be ready to go,” you replied. 

“I have been absolutely restless all day today thinking about tonight,” Freddie continued, “We are going to have so much fun!” 

He made his way over to the counter and leaned against it, facing your back. “I really think you’re going to like their music,” he continued, “they’ve got a very real sound, none of that formulaic clean-cut bullshit.”

“I told you, Freddie,” you said, turning around to face him, “I make no promises as to whether or not I’ll like them. But they do sound quite lovely from the way you describe them.” 

With that, you shut off all the lights, lock up the doors, and the two of you were on your way. 

____

The concert was being held in the student center at Ealing, right in the middle of the campus. On a normal day the large open room was typically used for fundraisers, game nights, and a variety of other student-run activities, but every now and then the school would allow bands to put on shows. As you walked through the door you were immediately overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people packed into the room. All the tables and chairs had been pushed to the sides making it so it was barely possible to sit down, though there were a few people who had managed to squeeze themselves into a seat. You were about to follow their lead, your eyes fixed on an empty table close to the back, but Freddie grabbed you by the arm and pulled you both up to the very front. 

“Do we really have to be this close, Fred? I can hear just as well from back there,” you said, gesturing towards the table you had so lovingly had your eye on. 

“Darling we’re seeing a rock concert, not the symphony, it’s not just about being able to hear them. Watching them play and being right up in the middle of things is all part of the experience.” 

You looked at him rather quizzically. 

“Alright, but if I get my ears blown out tonight it’s your fault.”

“That’s the spirit! Now I’m going to go and get us both something to drink. I’ll be right back.” 

As you watched your friend disappear into the crowd of students you turned to focus your attention on the stage in front of you.  They had taken the small stage that permanently stayed in the back of the student center and never usually saw anything more exciting than experimental theater pieces put on by the drama students, and had completely transformed it into something out of a whimsical fever dream. Brightly colored metallic fabrics had been draped over the dingy, dust-filled curtain that hung behind the stage. In the center of the stage sat a drum kit with a giant red-lipped smile on the bass drum. To the side, there were two guitars on stands, a pretty standard bass guitar, which you recognized as Tim’s, and a guitar which you had never seen the likes of before. It was a bright cherry red color with a black pickguard and it was oddly round in shape. You had been working at a well-stocked music store for nearly two years now and had never seen any guitar that remotely resembled it before. To top it all off you saw that they had covered the lights facing the stage with different colored translucent films, further adding to the whimsical ambiance. 

You know, this actually seems like it’s going to be a lot of fun. Dammit, Fred, why’d you have to be right. 

You shook your head to yourself and began to look around to see if you could see Freddie anywhere when suddenly everyone started clapping. 

The band was making its way onstage. On bass, there was Tim Staffell. He went to Ealing, studying graphic design, and was a good friend of Freddie’s. The three of you often went out together for drinks. You then looked over to see the man behind the drum kit and couldn’t believe what you saw. Sitting there was Roger, the guy you had sold guitar strings to mere hours ago. 

“Ha!” You said aloud.

“What’s so funny?” Interjected Freddie, who had just appeared next to you holding two beers. 

“I know the drummer,” you said. 

“You know Roger?”

“Yeah,” you continue, chuckling, “I sold him guitar strings a few hours ago. He was in a right panic about it. Apparently, their guitarist broke one earlier and didn’t have any extras on hand.”

“Brian didn’t have any extra strings on him? That must have really caused a panic, I don’t think Brian has ever forgotten anything in his entire life.” 

“I’m assuming Brian is the guitarist?”

“Yeah, and he’s bloody brilliant at it. There he is right there.” Freddie pointed to the man standing on the right of the stage. He was incredibly tall and lanky, with a head full of unruly curly brown hair and deep brown eyes. He was wearing black pinstriped trousers and a white top which he had accessorized with the most interesting looking fuzzy vest. He exuded the most peculiar combination of confidence and recluse, and as he stood there fiddling with his guitar you couldn’t help but think he was the most beautiful person you had ever seen. 

You turned to say something to Freddie, but before you could get any words out Tim had started talking into the microphone. 

“Hello Ealing!” He shouted. He was met with a resounding chorus of cheers and whoops from the crowd. “We are Smile!” More cheers. “You all know me, I’m Tim Staffell, over there on guitar we have Brian May, and back there on the drums is Roger Taylor. We’ve got a good set for you tonight, all originals except for a few, and we’re going to start with a song called Step On Me.” 

At once they struck up an upbeat tune and it didn’t take long for the audience to start dancing and singing along with them. 

(3)

🎵Know what I said when I saw you crying

Hang on that’s folly

I was weak in the head out to meet your lying

You’re just a bad memory 

My life was going to be better

My why did I never ever see she’d step on me🎵

As you listened to them sing you couldn’t help but nod and dance along with the rest of the audience. Fred was right again, they really did have a sound the likes of which you had never heard before. Not only were their harmonies perfectly in tune, but they had an almost angelic quality to them that pulled you in, wanting to hear more. 

“Well now look who’s actually having a good time,” Freddie said to you as they finished their first song. I knew you would like them. 

“They really are something else,” you said, “although I would probably like them even more if I weren’t surrounded by so many people right now.” 

Freddie laughed. 

“I guess I’ll have to talk to Tim about getting you a private show then.”  

They went from song to song, each one more enjoyable than the last, and while you tried to keep your attention from wavering, you kept finding yourself drawn to Brian the guitarist. Freddie hadn’t been lying when he said that Brian was bloody brilliant at what he did. You watched him easily play his way through several guitar solos, making them sound effortless, though with your musical knowledge (and by the look on his face) you could tell that they were anything but that. He played with a look of concentration on his face, never wavering except for the few times he looked up and out into the crowd. It was then, you noticed, that a small smile would cross his face. 

All too soon Tim was at the microphone again, announcing that this would be their last song. You felt as if you could continue to listen to their music for hours and wished to yourself that the show wasn’t over yet. 

“You all have been such a great crowd tonight,” Tim went on, “and so to finish we’re going to be bringing you everyone’s favorite: Doing Alright!” 

If you thought you had liked the songs they had played the rest of the night, then you loved this one. It started out with a slow ballad, complete with more complex guitar work, but as it went on it morphed into hard rock with grit and feeling. You thought the juxtaposition of the two styles was a daring choice seeing as it would be easy to mess up, but they did it with such grace and style so that it completely worked. When the song finally came to a close and the band took their bows you joined in with the thunderous applause and cheering. 

“Fred, I’ve got to say it: I really did enjoy myself tonight. It was a little loud and crowded for my liking but I think the music and the show were able to make up for it, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll come with you again.”

“Oh that’s wonderful darling! I knew tonight was going to be a success. But it’s not quite over yet.”

“No?”

“Of course not! You didn’t think you were going to get away without meeting the band, also known as my new friends. C’mon, they’re probably around somewhere outside packing up.”

You and Freddie fought your way through the crowds of students to get to the door and out into the night air. As Freddie had said, you found Tim and Roger sitting on the back of a van which you could see was full up of their equipment. Brian was nowhere in sight. 

“Freddie! So glad you could make it!” Exclaimed Roger, standing up. “And,” he turned to you, “I don’t believe it. Y/N from the music store, why on earth didn’t you tell me you were coming to the show tonight?” 

“Mostly because I had no idea this was your band,” you replied, laughing. “Freddie here has been after me to see and meet you guys for ages.” 

“And,” said Roger, “what do you think?”

“Coming from someone who doesn’t tend to enjoy rock concerts, I thought you guys were wonderful. I did not expect to enjoy myself tonight as much as I did. I think you’ve really got something special here.”

“You flatter us too much,” said Tim, “if you keep talking like that we’re all gonna get big heads. And Roger’s is big enough as is.”

“Hey!” said Roger, but he smiled. 

“So,” you continue, “Freddie said you guys are thinking about getting a flat together?”

“Yeah, Brian and I found this place up the road a little, Brian’s our guitarist by the way,” said Roger. 

At the mention of his name, you could feel your heart flutter slightly in your chest.

“Freddie mentioned him,” you said, “Did the strings end up working out for him?”

“I thought they were fine, but Bri gets particular about these things. I guess they were the wrong brand or gauge or something like that. He kept going on about how he was going to sound awful tonight and his sound was going to be too abrasive.”

“Well yes, different strings are going to give you different sounds and I don’t know what he usually uses, but you guys sounded just great to me.”

Part of you desperately wanted to ask where he was right now, but you decided against it. 

Against your better judgment, you had let Freddie convince you to stay around and talk with him, Tim, and Roger for a while longer. In that time you learned that Roger was studying to be a dentist at London Hospital Medical School, and Brian was over at the Imperial College studying, as Roger put it, “some sort of space physics.” 

“He’s real into all that,” Roger continued, “but I can’t say the same for myself. I get good marks and all that, professors think I have a lot of ‘promise’, whatever that means, but a dentist for the rest of my life? I’m not sure I could handle that. Nah, I’m hoping to stay in rock n roll for as long as I can. What about you? You’re over at Ealing with Fred and Tim, right? Are you another graphic design nerd like these guys?”

“No, music actually. Nothing like what you guys do,” you added, seeing Roger’s face light up, “classical repertoire mostly. I play the flute.”

“You any good?”

“I suppose that’s a matter of opinion. Personally, I tend to think I’m shit, but you ask any music student and they’ll tell you the same thing.”

“Oh don’t be like that, Y/N,” interjected Freddie, “she’s bloody marvelous. She can play you Bach like you’ve never heard before, although Roger I don’t think you have ever heard it before.”

“Oh come off it, I’ve heard my fair share of the classical stuff.”

“Yes, next time you go to the symphony be sure to refer to it as ‘the classical stuff’ I’m sure you won’t get any funny looks at all.”

You and Tim howled with laughter at Freddie’s comment while Roger gave him a good punch in the shoulder. 

“Dear god, look at the time,” you said a moment later after having glanced at your watch. “Is it really two thirty in the morning?!”

“I suppose it is,” said Tim, “sure hasn’t felt that long.”

“I’ve really got to be going then,” you said.

“Aw c’mon stay out for a little longer with us,” said Tim, “Fred and I hardly get to see you anymore.”

“I know, and I wish that I could, but I’ve got class at 8 tomorrow morning and I should at least try to get some sleep.”

“Oh alright go on, we know you’re right,” said Freddie, “I should probably be going myself, I am quite exhausted.”

“See ya later Fred,” said Roger, “great to see you again, Y/N. You should come round to the flat once we get it, we’d all love to see you again and you can meet Brian as well.”

The flutter was back. 

“I definitely will,” you replied before giving them all a wave and starting back to your own flat. 

[eloquentsins-blog]

smol starter call ??? 

[dearophelia]

20: Carrying while half asleep for Livfam?

Garrus gently combs his talons through Nora’s curls, untangling a few loose knots. She shifts, settling a little more comfortably with her head on his lap, as the cartoon movie continues on. Something about a fish, he hasn’t really been paying attention. Olivia’s running commentary of her emergency meeting and the fight that’s currently derailed everything is more interesting than brightly-colored Thessian aquatic life singing about friendship.

Or maybe buried treasure. It’s hard to tell. He’s saved from having to figure it out by his omnitool beeping softly again.

OS: we really should’ve run off somewhere warm and tropical 🙃

Garrus can’t help himself and he laughs quietly.

GV: well we have been talking about moving 😁 I hear Sur’kesh is nice this time of yearOS: I’m sure me living on the same planet as the Dalatrasses is great for everyone’s long-term health

He snorts; her sarcasm nearly drips through his omnitool and onto their living room floor.

A notification pops up from Quentus’ and Nico’s school: their field trip made it back to the school, they’re all safely in for the night, and would he like to pass on a goodnight message? He types in sweet dreams, we’ll see you in the morning in the response box and then dismisses the alert.

OS: okay, looks like Barro got the fight under control, I guess we’re starting againGV: wait, you meant a literal fight?

She sends him a picture. While it loads, Garrus shifts, letting Nora sit up and tuck under his arm. The sea creatures have rescued their friends and taught the sting ray about friendship. Or maybe they’ve all found and stolen the sting ray’s buried treasure and are now mocking him. He’s never actually caught the whole movie, only bits and pieces; he really should sit down and watch it sometime, it’s one of Nora’s favorites.

The picture loads. Three upset chairs, an annoyed-looking salarian medic off to the side, one C-Sec officer taking statements and two more placing handcuffs on an asari and a turian, purple asari blood on the white floor, broken glass littered everywhere. He tilts his omnitool away from his six year-old daughter and swipes the picture away as another starts to come through.

GV: And here I thought my lunch meeting with the Primarch was exciting

A selfie this time, Olivia rolling her eyes about as far skyward as she can, the assistant director beside her making the exact same face. As pictures of Olivia go, it’s far from flattering. But it’s the answer to the question he hadn’t asked - are you okay? she would’ve led with that if she weren’t - and he smiles softly and saves it to his pictures to give her grief about later. This time, he does show the picture to Nora, who dissolves into sleepy giggles and curls into his side.

OS: I should’ve sold tickets to this. Don’t wait up.GV: Good luck. Nora says hiOS: hi back. Love you both

A little do not disturb symbol pops up next to her name and the chat window blanks out.

Nora yawns and rubs at her eyes. Garrus checks the progress bar - fifteen minutes left. She’s technically past bedtime, but there’s a pretty good ensemble musical number coming up in the finale, and it’s her favorite part. Besides, she’s already in her pajamas and brushed her teeth.

He presses his mouthplates to the top of her head and settles in to watch the end of the movie. Predictably, the last fifteen minutes don’t clarify the plot for him in the least (he’s not really interested in the report he’s supposed to look over once Nora’s in bed, maybe he’ll watch the movie for himself), but they bring a bright smile to Nora’s face. The screen fades to black and, as the catchy credits song starts, Nora makes a sleepy little noise and rests her head against his chest.

“Bedtime,” Garrus says quietly, turning off the screen.

“‘m not tired,” she yawns.

“Mmhm,” he agrees, lifting her up as he stands. “Can you be not tired in your bed?”

Nodding, Nora tucks her head in his carapace. He shifts his hold, settling her more firmly against him, and she loops her arms around his neck. Garrus smiles and carries her upstairs into her bedroom.

She’s mostly asleep in the half-minute it takes them to get there, and he gently lays her down, glad she didn’t make her bed this morning. When he tugs the fluffy yellow comforter up, her teddy bear tumbles out of the covers onto the floor. He picks it up and sets it in her arms, smiling at how she hugs it tight.

“Sweet dreams,” he says, bending over to brush a kiss to her cheek and tuck the covers around her. He waves his hand over the light sensor, turning off everything except for the moon nightlight in the corner and the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Nora murmurs. She curls into the covers and around her teddy bear, and she’s asleep almost instantly.

Garrus smiles and leaves her to her slumber, shutting the door behind him.

When Olivia comes home, only a couple hours before the station’s day-night cycle shifts into dawn, he’s still on the couch, wide awake, almost finished with his third viewing of the movie.

Olivia silently drops onto the couch next to him, steals a piece of Nora’s leftover popcorn, and lifts his arm up, dropping it over her shoulders. He takes the hint and settles his arm around her.

“Why are you watching this?” She takes the popcorn bowl from the coffee table and sets it in her lap.

Garrus brushes a kiss to the top of her head and thinks about making her proper breakfast. “I’ve never seen it all the way through. You know it makes no sense?”

Olivia laughs and nods.

“I’ve watched this three times tonight and I don’t understand any of it.” It might actually make less sense.

“No one does,” she assures him, leaning up to kiss his mandible. “It’s based on a really obscure and complicated asari fairy tale.” She yawns and leans against him. “Why they decided to use sea creatures,” she yawns again and shrugs instead of finishing her sentence.

Garrus hums quietly and Olivia settles against him. “You want to go to bed?” he asks. He should probably get some sleep too: he didn’t read any of the reports he was supposed to, and none of his schedule tomorrow involves explaining a bizarre kids’ movie.

She shakes her head. “I’ve gotta be up in an hour. I’m gonna nap on you, though,” she says around a yawn. She scoots down so she’s lying on the couch, her head resting in his lap.

He takes the popcorn bowl out of her hands, sets it aside, and drags the soft blanket off the back of the couch and drapes it over her. He’s hardly turned off the lamp before he feels her drift into sleep. Leaning over, Garrus brushes a kiss to her cheek.

Hell, he’s going to be here at least another hour. He starts the movie again.

[kiconwrites]

Why You Shouldn’t Suggest Things to Writers

A while ago I received this message from a Tumblr user:

I noticed the first two parts of Through Their Eyes were from the perspectives of both sides of what would eventually become a couple. I don't see why this trend has to end. I am therefore suggesting that the next three parts of it be about Neville/Hannah, Daphne/Theodore, and Michael Corner/whoever (Cho isn't his final ship, as she married a Muggle). I would certainly love to see your take on Neville/Hannah, you've already indicated an interest in Daphne/Theo, and Michael needs more love.

I’ve been sitting on this message for a long time, trying to decide whether or not to reply to it and how.  In the end, I decided to reply privately to the individual, but also publicly as PSA as to why this kind of message is not great.

In a way, this person is correct.  There is no hard fast reason why the “trend” of ships has to end.  But there is one reason: I want it to, and that should be all that really matters.  I am the author, the writer, the creator (aside from what belongs to JKR, of course).  I wrote BIK because I was interested in exploring Dean and Seamus’ relationship and perspective during the HP books.  There was never any original intention to make it into a series.  Then I thought about Parvati and Lavender and decided to do the same thing with them.

I was hesitant about writing a Neville-centered story because he’s such a prevalent character that I was uncertain of how successful the story would be. The appeal of Dean and Seamus (and especially Lavender and Parvati) was that they were so minor that I could really make them into whatever I wanted them to be.  But Neville has so much of his character and his story written in the original series that I wasn’t sure what I could expand upon.

I did consider making the story Neville/Hannah-centered, but I’m not doing that for a few reasons, which I shouldn’t even have to outline but I’m going to anyway:

(Under a readmore bc I know long posts are annoying, and y’all know my answers are always long af)

A. They’re in different houses.  As you may have (but more than likely not) noticed, in both BIK and TIW, Dean/Seamus and Lavender/Parvati are in every chapter together until some chapters near the end.  There are some chapters where one or the other might make only a very minor appearance, but they’re still in practically every chapter together.  This was done on purpose to make chapters in which they’re separated inherently different from the rest of the story for symbolic/growth/plot reasons.

The chapters in BIK are when Dean is on the run and they’re forcibly separated. The chapters in TIW are 48 and 49, when Par and Lav each take a chapter to deal with their own issues, and then later for a reason that involves a spoiler. If I did a Neville/Hannah-centered story, I would want to continue this, but that would be impossible due to their characters being physically separate for most of their time at school (Like, have y’all noticed how many scenes in BIK and TIW are in Gryffindor tower?  So many)

B. In HBP, Hannah’s mom dies early in the school year and is pulled out of school and not seen for the rest of the year.  That would, again, make having Neville and Hannah in scenes together impossible, and I’m not interested in showing various scenes of Hannah at home grieving her mother for a whole year.

C. I ship Neville/Luna during Hogwarts, in the later years.  That would make a Neville/Hannah-centered story a little weird and honestly too much like the Seamus-Dean-Ginny and Parvati-Lavender-Ron love triangles in BIK and TIW.  Been there, done that.  Twice.

D. Regardless of the above point, “canonically” (aka, not in the books, but said/written by JKR), Neville and Hannah don’t get together until sometime after Hogwarts, and I try to keep the Through Their Eyes stories as canon compliant as possible.  This--in my mind--negates the purpose of writing a Neville/Hannah-centered story set during their Hogwarts years.

E. I decided I wanted to explore a more character-driven angle for this story rather than relationship-driven. I wanted to try something different.  I also like that Neville’s the only non-Trio Gryffindor in their year that I haven’t written about yet, and I wanted to dedicate a story to him.  Bottom line: I want to write an only Neville-centered story.

(Sidenote: Like I said, I shouldn’t have to list out these reasons.  What I want to write should be respected no matter what, but I wanted y’all to see that I don’t do things randomly or for no reason.)

Readers should not suggest things to writers (the exception being prompt requests and unless the writer specifically asks for plot ideas, which I know some writers do and that’s great because they asked for it).  Fanfic writers are not being paid by the readers; they’re writing because they love it, and they are going to write what they want to write.

But when readers suggest things, it makes things uncomfortable for the writer because then they feel their ideas maybe aren’t original or good enough, or maybe the reader will think they’re writing things because the reader suggested them but really it was the plan all along.  It can be upsetting, off-putting, and sometimes downright rude (which this user was not, but some people can be).

I do plan on someday writing a Daphne/Theo-centered story; I do plan on writing a Ravenclaw student-centered story, and the student might be Michael Corner or it might not (but he won’t be with Cho, because I imagine Cho and Padma becoming queerplatonic life partners who own Flourish and Blotts together; you can read more here but be warned for TIW spoilers).  I do plan on showing Neville and Hannah becoming friends and getting to know each other here and there throughout the story.  But none of these things will happen because of this user’s suggestion, but rather because I want them to.  And that’s really the point of this.

(Sidenote: people really shouldn’t suggest things to non-fanfic writers either.  No matter how much you love a book series, it can create serious legal issues for authors if you suggest things for them.  It becomes a whole thing with copyright and I don’t really have all the facts but I know it’s bad so please, y’all, stop tweeting your favorite authors and telling them what to put in the sequel)

I’m really not trying to be rude, just clear and no-so-concise.  I’m simply trying to express to y’all that writers have plans for their stories and reasons for what they do or write, or what they don’t do or don’t write.  I love that this user read BIK and TIW and that they feel passionately about the series enough to want to see certain things happen, but in the end they’re my stories.

If y’all want to see a Neville/Hannah-centered story set in Hogwarts, or you feel Michael needs more love, or whatever plot bunny bounces around in your head, I encourage y’all to write it.  Write the stories you want to read.  Take what you’re passionate about and write it yourself.  That’s how great stories happen.

Happy reading, Kicon

PS. I will make an update post regarding All I’ve Yet to Be tomorrow.  Don’t worry, it will still be written, I promise. <3

[for-gold-and-glory]

Weekly Events for Jan 21st to 26

Here are some events G&G Members will be involved in during the week. Or just events that I think are really cool and you should definitely go to. If you’re interested in joining these events just show up or send a message to Aegir, Lirilith, or Aedwen Or join our discord: https://discord.gg/dCRSWTx Tuesday - Primal Tour: Adult Swim @ 8:30PM EST - Costa del Sol, Eastern La Noscea Wednesday -  M-TeK Presents: The Th(Dr)ink-Tank @ 8:00pm EST - Mists, Ward 6: Plot 36 Thursday -  Buscarron Regulars @ 3:00pm EST - Buscaroon's Druthers - Souther Shroud Thursday - World of Light Interlude: Hot Springs Episode @ 7:30pm EST - Clearmelt, Lakeland Friday - January Caterwual at The Darklight Tavern @ 8:00pm EST - Lavender Beds W14, P58 Friday - Mi'ihen's Pit 2: The Prince of Hell, pt. 1 @ 8:00pm EST - Habisphere, Azys Lla Saturday -  King of the Ring Tournament @ 3:00pm EST - Wineport, Eastern La Noscea Saturday -  F.A.T.E.: An Ul'dah Invasion @ 9:00pm EST - Ul’dah Sunday - World of Light Epilogue @ TBA Event Status Guide: * Open, come join us = anyone who reads this is welcome to come join the RP! * Open, please check the link = used for fun events run by other people, its an open event, but check the link to see if there are any special instructions * Semi-Open = anyone who reads this can still join the RP, but contact the GM first so they can introduce you to the plot * Open to “X” = open to anyone who plays a character that fits “X” (usually Garleans), new members and alt friendly * Closed = rarely seen, but used sometimes if the event is not accepting new members, usually for plot reasons

---

Tuesday - Primal Tour: Adult Swim @ 8:30PM EST - Costa del Sol, Eastern La Noscea - It’s time for some aquatic training? Or is this just an excuse to use grant money to have an all night paid vacation in Costa del Sol? The Freemasons have invited their members and adventurers to join them in La Noscea where they have hired several prominent blitzball players to help them prepare for underwater combat. Oh my goodness, what could this possibly be suggesting? Bring your swimsuits. Status: Open RP, come join us! Type: Social GM: Aegir Wednesday -  M-TeK Presents: The Th(Dr)ink-Tank @ 8:00pm EST - Mists, Ward 6: Plot 36 - Love to drink? Love to tinker? Love to create devices that astound as much as they confuse? Or do you simply love solving simple problems with unnecessarily complex  solutions? If any or all of these things are true, then the Th(Dr)ink Tank is for you!  What started as an initially small meetup between racers and mechanics of the C-1 Racing League has now officially opened its doors to all inventors and alcoholics! So come on down, and prepare to make something crazy with friends, or make new friends over something crazy! Status: Open RP, please check the link! Type: Social GM: M-tek Thursday -  Buscarron Regulars @ 3:00pm EST - Buscaroon's Druthers - Souther Shroud https://brp.carrd.co/    - Deep in the South Shroud, Buscarron's alehouse stands as a welcoming beacon for locals, travelers, and adventurers alike. Come have an ale, meet some interesting people, and share a story or two. The local levemeter offers to pay for a drink if you join him at his table, and he might even have a job for the adventurers among us.  Status: Open RP, please check the link! Type: Social GM:  Sven Cloudwrath 

Thursday - World of Light Interlude: Hot Springs Episode @ 7:30pm EST - Clearmelt, Lakeland - A battle fought and won. A companion lost. An interlude in the healing springs of Clearmelt.  Status: Semi-Open RP, contact Aegir Type: Social GM: Aegir

Friday - January Caterwual at The Darklight Tavern @ 8:00pm EST - Lavender Beds W14, P58 https://savothesewercat.tumblr.com/post/189979785344/musical-silliness-at-the-darklight-tavern-in - Musical Silliness at the Darklight Tavern in January.  Friday the 24th at 8pm Eastern, lavenderbeds Ward 14, House 58 Balmung Server Status: Open RP, please check the link! Type: Performance GM: Darklight Tavern

Friday - Mi'ihen's Pit 2: The Prince of Hell, pt. 1 @ 8:00pm EST - Habisphere, Azys Lla -  Word has spread throughout Azys Lla that the late Emperor Xande has returned to usher in a new age for the Allagan Empire. In the wake of his reappearance, it seems the Emperor has requested entertainment, and for this purpose, the infamous Mi'ihen's Pit has been re-opened to sate his demands.

This time, by decree of the Emperor, rather than acquiring captives to pit against the myriad fiends drawn from all over the realm, an open challenge has been issued to all corners of Eorzea. Will you answer the call of Xande, worms?

P.S.: Up to a maximum of 12 contestants can sign up for the colosseum! Sign-ups are on a first come first served basis. Status: Open RP Type: Tournament GM: @MoonZapdos#2048 (Send me a DM if you're bringing a character of Allagan origins!)

Saturday -  King of the Ring Tournament @ 3:00pm EST - Wineport, Eastern La Noscea https://dragoonsdiary.tumblr.com/post/190143402663/king-of-the-ring-balmung-eu-rp-tournament - A fighting spectacle that does not restrict your means to fight or fling dangerous magics, put your strengths forward to fight against unwilling odds and earn title and treasures aplenty!Want to smash your axe against a devious meteor flinging thaumaturge? DO IT!Want to have your carbuncle Floor-tank an enemy dragoon with adorableness? DO ITWant to hit a fish-spitting blue mage with a frying pan? DO IT!!!As long as you leave your opponent in one piece and not on a one-way trip to the realm of the departed, ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE! Come on down to the Iron Feast in Dravania each SATURDAY from the 18th of this month at the 8th bell of the day to participate in the weekly dose of the ultimate trial of combat!And that’s not all, At the end of each month we shall have themed nights ranging from DUO BATTLES, TEAM BATTLES, FREE FOR ALLS and MORE with increased prizes and glory to behold! Status: Open RP, please check the link! Type: Tournament GM:  Aldric Sayrillont / Aldric#7268 Saturday -  F.A.T.E.: An Ul'dah Invasion @ 9:00pm EST - Ul’dah https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLScA4E2heox2A7NOJFXjgC3pZO1HTRRl340-uMFguQQM3irqkA/viewform -  "The rumors of Ul'dah coming under siege soon have been confirmed. An ad-hoc faction lead by "The Caturae" intend to set a new precedent and stir revolution to break the status quo, freeing those that lurk in the shadows with a show of force for a better tomorrow no matter the cost. A figure from "The Resistance" who confirmed the rumors is leading the defense of the city for those who would seek to protect peace in the walls and the status quo. On which side shall you fall?" Status: Please check the link! Type: Action GM: F.A.T.E. (check the link!) Sunday - World of Light Epilogue @ TBA - It’s time to say goodbye to the World of Light. Status: Closed RP Type: Social GM: Aegir

[cashcounts]

Searching for Life Beyond Earth, Finding Our Dreams Instead

How would do you recognize another Earth while you’re on this one?

That’s a question astronomers often try to answer. Oh, the scientists say, they could look at orbital models, temperature models, atmospheric models, formation models. All kinds of models. “None of these models include anything like pollution or warfare or any of the things that make Earth a human world,” says Lisa Messeri, an anthropologist of science and technology. There was a striving quality to their answers.

In the hunt for exoplanets, we often speak of finding “Earth’s twin.”

“We don’t want to find a world with warfare or stricken with poverty,” Messeri says. We want a perfect world, she continues, “a world that is untouched by human activity.”

Messeri herself doesn’t study these great-beyond planets: She studies the people who study them. And in their presentations, papers, and talk amongst themselves Messeri notices a few things: that the astronomers have turned these light-years-away planets into real places—not just plots and pixels—defined in comparison and contrast to this terra firma. Most importantly, though, Messeri sees evidence that while exoplanet science is a field of the present and future, it also reaches, fundamentally, toward the past.

The astronomers Messeri studies often spend their lives searching for so-called Earth-like planets. These worlds could potentially have life. They could have liquid water or continents or oxygenated air. They’re the right sizes at the right distances from their suns, and could have the right atmospheres and oceans. We sometimes call this search one for “Earth’s twin.”

But that’s not quite right, Messeri says: It’s actually the search for Earth’s perfect twin. Earth as it used to be, before humans got to it. A whole-world Eden.

Yearning for Home

After attending a meeting of Kepler space telescope scientists, Messeri read more about the philosophical concept of home, she says, “and what a home is and this idea of ‘Can you ever go back to your home?’ ” She had first picked up this thread in graduate school, and now she returned to work from mid-20th-century philosophers, who’d grown up before World War II and had to continue living after it. They missed their prelapsarian place.

And, Messeri realized, exoplanet astronomers felt that same feeling—for a place that they’d never known: an Earth without them.

There’s a word that conveys that feeling, actually, in Welsh: hiraeth, longing for a home you’ve never had or can’t return to.

Finding Herself

“Anthropologist” wasn’t a thing Messeri initially intended to become. At MIT as an undergrad, she was poised to enter the workforce as an aerospace engineer. She loved space: the existence of it, the bigness of it, the big questions it forced you to try to answer whether you wanted to or not. “But by the time I got to my senior year, I began to realize that the actual day-to-day work of an engineer wasn’t something I was particularly enamored of,” Messeri says. Expanding her interests, she took an elective course about the history of science. The idea that science had a history—that it came from somewhere and had not always been thus—had never exactly occurred to her.

Lisa Messeri says our search for habitable exoplanets reveals our yearning for a perfect world.

But she liked the idea so much that she went on to get a doctorate in the history and anthropology of science and technology. When it came time to pick a dissertation project, she went back to what had first caught her scientific interest: all that stuff beyond our atmosphere, all the people who tried to figure it out. Messeri’s roommate was a planetary scientist and offered to introduce her to some people in her department—people who included Sara Seager, who, back in 2008, wasn’t yet the rock star she is now and hadn’t yet been profiled by CNN or the New York Times. So Messeri began to (with permission) follow these exoplanetary scientists around—watching them code, watching them use telescopes, watching them make sense of the dots and lines decorating x-y axes.

Finding Places We’ve Never Been

Messeri’s scrutiny of these scientists came to focus on placemaking. It’s not a gerund we think about often: transforming a position in x-y-z-t space into something with more sentiment happens seemingly automatically in our minds.

But while it’s normal for humans to do that, it still takes mental work. “Places don’t just exist,” Messeri says. “We have to make them.” Each place is tinted by our particular history, our sensory interpretations, our social contexts. In just about every case, we placemake in places where we’ve visited or lived or of which we’ve seen copious Street Views. “But can there be places,” Messeri wondered, “that are not on Earth, where humans haven’t been?”

It seemed to her that the exoplanet astronomers thought so. They had transformed their planets into places, seeing each of them as a small step on the way toward the real goal: that perfect place, the never-inhabited-by-humans habitable home.

Seeking a Perfect Species

But those homes may not be uninhabited—they potentially may be someone else’s planet. That thought frames the work of SETI scientists, another group of researchers who are looking not just for habitable worlds or for the chemical signatures of biology, but for smart, technologically capable inhabitants. In their quest for advanced civilizations, these SETI—search for extraterrestrial intelligence—scientists bring their own idealizations to their quest. They are usually scouring the universe for a type of species we hope to become: nonviolent and stable, the kind that sticks around long enough to broadcast signals that lesser beings like us might pick up.

Their field began around 1960 and solidified around a conference at the National Radio Astronomy Observatory in Green Bank, West Virginia. There, a young astronomer named Frank Drake came up with “the Drake Equation,” which gives researchers a framework for talking about how many intelligent civilizations might inhabit the Milky Way galaxy. Drake’s formula steps through the conditions required for life to arise and gain intelligence: First comes the rate at which suitable stars form (R), followed by the fraction of those suitable stars that have planets (f*p). Then, one must consider the number of planets around those stars that are “habitable” (n*e), the fraction of those habitable planets on which life arises (f*l), the fraction of those life-having planets on which the life becomes intelligent (f*i), and the fraction of those intelligent civilizations that use technology to send signals to space (f*c).

Some of those variables are straight physics: questions that have easy answers, albeit ones we don’t fully understand yet. The evolution of actual life and serious smarts and the development of detectable technology are less quantified and perhaps less quantifiable.

Proxima b orbits in the habitable zone of its star, Proxima Centauri.

But there’s one more variable in the equation—and it could be the biggest question-mark factor determining whether we can find alien life. Scientists call it L: the length of time that intelligent civilizations keep broadcasting.

What L actually connotes is “the amount of time a technological society usually stays around before it destroys itself or significantly regresses.” If L is small, it could mean humans are the only ones in reasonable shouting distance. If it’s large, there could be many more intelligent others out there.

Humans are the only example of intelligent life that we have. So L, based on our personal stats (and because we could blow ourselves up tomorrow and stop broadcasting signals into space), is on the order of 100 years—the approximate amount of time we’ve been producing radio transmissions. Of course, we could stick around and stay smart for a lot longer and prove that conservative estimate of our own L wrong.

But if SETI finds anything (or anyone), those aliens likely will have been around for a long time (the chances that we’d find aliens that had popped up just 50 years ago is smaller than minuscule). That means any intelligent alien civilization alien civilization would probably have an L much longer than 100 years. And that would, SETI scientists have long said, give humans hope: In addition to knowing we’re not alone, we’d also suspect that however we’ve changed our planet, whatever marks we’ve left on it and each other, we could figure out how to continue existing. Those aliens figured out how, after all—and they’re aliens!

As researcher David Duner, a professor of the history of science and ideas at Lund University, put it in a recent paper, such a civilization must have encountered difficulties like the ones that face us today. “Wars, climate change, pollution, decreasing biodiversity, and so on,” he wrote. “The mere fact that they have survived would indicate that they have a functioning social structure that can handle and avoid crises (or at least that they are able to recover from them), and that they have a complex social system that regulates risks and destructive behavior.” Finding extraterrestrial intelligence, in other words, would show us an ideal version of our future selves—a more cohesive society, one that’s better at stewarding its planet and less murderous of each other.

To search for such a civilization indicates a hope that those versions of intelligence are out there, stably surfing through the universe. These beings may not have kept their Earth-twin planet pristine. Neither would it be that Ur-Earth for which astronomers feel hiraeth. But it would be a place—a real place—that would look nice on a poster. “It may not be perfect,” these ideal aliens may beam in a message to us, “but it will always be home.”

Missing an Imagined Planet

Just as American states have tourism offices and ad campaigns, touting their lush landscapes and theme parks, NASA has an “Exoplanet Travel Bureau.” On its website, you can click to twist and turn around the foreign (illustrated, imagined) surfaces of other worlds, or you can buy a promotional poster that portrays these orbs as vacation destinations. There’s the double-starred planet Kepler 16-b, “where your shadow always has company.” Or Kepler 186-f, “where the grass is always redder,” because it orbits a red-dwarf star whose longer-wavelength light may have influenced photosynthesis. On PSO J318.5-22, “the night life never ends”—because it travels through space starless. On huge HD 40307g, meanwhile, you can “experience the gravity of a super earth.”

NASA produced a series of posters that evoke vintage travel advertisements, suggesting a nostalgia for places we’ve never known.

The posters are done up in the vintage 1930s style of Works Progress Administration advertisements—the Baushaus-inspired, dreamy types that people now hang framed in their hip houses. Those creations encouraged contemporaries to “See America.” NASA, though, wants the viewer to see something else entirely: planets they can never actually visit. The agency’s posters show a two-shadowed solo pioneer facing a frontier; a person in front of a white picket fence, fronting red foliage; a formally dressed and handsy couple at a late-night social event; and a person skydiving toward a planetary surface.

Exoplanet astronomers almost always put these posters in their public-presentation PowerPoints, Messeri says. Here’s what it might be like if we could go to the places we study, the images convey. Fun!

We humans miss that perfect place, creating a bizarro nostalgia that tinges the science, and the artistic representations from the Exoplanet Travel Bureau: the vintage style, the long-gone American-dream fence, the couple that’s happier and having more fun than we are right now. These posters, these planets, present us with the idea that although an Edenic and unspoiled life isn’t possible on Earth anymore, it could perhaps exist somewhere else—a somewhere else for which we’re homesick.

“What does it mean to be nostalgic for something we haven’t discovered yet?” Messeri asks. “To long for a sense of home in a place that’s not our own planet?”

[nivenus]

2017 in Film: A Retrospective and Ranking

So tomorrow’s the big day, right? The day when Hollywood’s elite gather and decide what films are the best?

In genre fandom there’s a reflexive instinct to reject the Oscars, which has long dismissed (sometimes truly impressive) efforts by science fiction, fantasy, horror, and other genre filmmakers. I totally get that, even if it’s not always true (just look at this year’s nominees). But rather than grouse and complain about how we disagree with the Academy, I thought it would be more rewarding to talk about how we felt about the cinema of 2017.

It’s been a really good year, I think it’s hard to deny, even if Hollywood itself (and the world in general) has had a pretty awful one. Even some of the worst films I’ve seen were pretty darn good and the best were truly terrific. It’s also been a pretty stand-out year for genre films in particular, with some great additions to the horror and superhero canon in particular. With that in mind I’ve ranked every 2017 film I’ve seen and invite others to do the same.

19. Ayla by Elias

Ayla is one of two feature-length films I saw at Portland’s annual H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival at the Hollywood Theatre, an experience I can heartily recommend to anyone in the Pacific Northwest who loves horror or weird fiction. The basic premise of Ayla is that a young man who lost his sister as a child and is unable to let go of her memory finds what appears to be an adult and strangely mute version of his sister, who comes to occupy a central place in his life as he neglects every other part of his life, including his living family and friends. Essentially, Ayla is a story about loss and how it can consume us.

Out of all the debut films I saw this year, Ayla is unmistakably the weakest but that doesn’t mean its bad by any means. The central hook driving the story is a compelling one and the performances given by the film’s mostly unknown cast (Nicholas Wilder, Tristan Risk, Dee Wallace, and Sarah Schoofs in the lead) are actually quite good and do a great job of drawing you into the narrative. Unfortunately, the movie just kind of ends abruptly and there’s never really a satisfying explanation for why the protagonist is so obsessed with his dead sister (his other family members have all moved on… why hasn’t he?). Still, it’s a nice showcase for the cast and the director’s skills which are not insubstantial.

18. The Lego Batman Movie by Chris McKay

When it was announced that Warner Bros. had decided to make a spin-off of The Lego Movie centered on Will Arnett’s comically self-obsessed version of Bruce Wayne there was a fair amount of skepticism. Arnett’s Batman was funny but would the joke perpetuate itself for a full movie without becoming dull? The good news is no and The Lego Batman Movie not only is funny but actually tells a pretty decent story. The bad news is that it’s still mostly forgettable.

There’s nothing particularly wrong with The Lego Batman Movie but I have to confess that nearly a year later I barely remember it. I remember all the plot beats and who all the characters were but I don’t remember how I felt watching it. I remember the narrative theme and thrust of the story (“it’s braver to let yourself feel things for other people than to go it alone”) and I appreciated the thought behind it but it didn’t stick with me. Maybe that’s because I already feel that message has been told in more interesting ways. Maybe it’s because the movie never quite escapes the impression of being a merchandising cash-in, unlike The Lego Movie. I liked The Lego Batman, but ultimately I can’t give it more than a solid C in retrospect.

17. They Remain by Philip Gelatt

The other feature film I saw at the H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival, They Remain is an adaptation of Laird Barron’s “-30-,” directed by Philip Gelatt, perhaps best-known to science fiction fans as the screenwriter of Europa Report (an excellent film I also saw this year, but which came out many years earlier and so doesn’t qualify for this list). They Remain focuses on a pair of scientists (William Harper Jackson and Rebecca Henderson) who are sent by a nebulous corporate employer to study strange animal behavior at the former site of a murderous cult that made headlines years earlier. A dark and moody film, They Remain examines the nature of cults, the effects of isolation, and the relationship between humans and their environment.

I was pretty excited to watch They Remain, especially since it was the actual premiere of the film, shown to audiences for the first time. Europa Report really surprised me when I checked it out earlier this year and I was eager to see what Gelatt’s newest film looked like. For the most part, I was very pleased with what I got. Gelatt does a great job at getting into the head of his lead character and the sense of dawning paranoia and psychosis that begins to overtake him at the film’s story progresses. You feel, like him, that reality is unravelling around you. Unfortunately, the film also has a last-minute twist (which I assume is in the original story as well) that didn’t quite work for me and I never was quite sure whether the cult’s past activities were a red herring or an important plot point. Then again, part of the appeal is likely considering such questions for yourself.

16. Blade Runner 2049 by Denis Villeneuve

Man was there any movie this year sci-fi nerds were more hyped for and the general public just didn’t care about? Blade Runner 2049 has at this point become somewhat infamous for being hyped everywhere by every nerd site imaginable and then just sort of dropping to the sound of crickets chirping. Which isn’t to say it wasn’t very well-received in some quarters. Hyperbolically (in my opinion) some have proclaimed it to exceed the original Blade Runner (itself a notable flop at the box office but darling among sci-fi fandom) in every way. Personally? I found Blade Runner 2049 a beautiful and ambitious but ultimately failed endeavor towards profundity.

The frustrating thing about Blade Runner 2049 is that it starts a lot better than it ends (far from the only 2017 film to suffer from that problem). The opening sequence where K visits the old replicant to “retire” him (which remains a chilling euphemism) is terrific, as are many that follow as K tries to uncover the nature of the mystery he’s stumbled on to. It’s only towards the end of the film, about the time that Harrison Ford’s Deckard finally makes his appearance, that things really begin to fall apart and you realize the movie was full of good ideas it didn’t know what to do with (as well as many half-baked ideas that should have been shelved). It doesn’t help that virtually every female character in the film is either defined by her relationship to men, a sexist stereotype, or both. There were parts of Blade Runner 2049 that I really liked, but in the end I couldn’t love it.

15. Alien: Covenant by Ridley Scott

More than anything else on this list I think switching the places of Blade Runner 2049 and Alien: Covenant will be a controversial choice. The funny thing though is that they share a lot in common for both good and bad, which may not be entirely coincidental considering they’re both follow-ups to Ridley Scott’s most widely praised films (even though Scott declined to direct Blade Runner 2049 in favor of Covenant). And like many I was pretty disappointed by Covenant when it finally debuted, though perhaps for different reasons than many (I’m very much on record as having been a big fan of Prometheus).

But despite Covenant’s confused narrative—which clearly wanted to be a sequel to Prometheus but got sidelined into being a more direct Alien prequel instead—I have to say that it stuck with me more. After I walked away from Blade Runner 2049 I rarely gave it another thought, at least after working out my disappointment. But Covenant is full of interesting ideas it actually commits to: the interplay of creation and destruction, the wrath of the created against the creator, and the nature of what it means to love. And if nothing else, Michael Fassbender provided was immensely enjoyable both as the Oedipal David and the gentler, kinder Walter.

14. Logan by James Mangold

Rounding out the three Michael Green scripts of 2017 (the guy certainly got around last year) is Logan, which is an interesting case in how far you can stretch the conventional boundaries of the superhero genre. It’s often been said that superhero films aren’t really a genre, with Marvel’s own Kevin Feige arguing that Captain America, Thor, and Iron Man actually represent different kinds of movies and whether or not you buy that argument it’s hard to argue that Logan isn’t a very different style of film than not only the aforementioned three but also Wolverine’s two previous solo outings. It has been described as a Western (though that itself is a very broad genre) and even noir but a typical superhero film it clearly is not.

I really liked Logan quite a lot when I saw it and had relatively few qualms with it other than some minor complaints about the ending. Hugh Jackman, Patrick Stewart, and Dafne Keen all give phenomenal performances and James Mangold was quite effective at weaving a story about aging, depression, and regaining hope. It didn’t really stick with me though and that’s one reason it doesn’t rate higher. Once I’d seen Logan I didn’t much think of it. Which is too bad because it’s very experimental style is something I’d like to see a lot more of in superhero films (more on that later).

13. Dunkirk by Christopher Nolan

There was a time when I was as big of a fan of Christopher Nolan as anyone. I was immensely impressed by Batman Begins when I saw it abroad in Britain back in 2005 and The Dark Knight only confirmed my intense affection for the way he reinvented Batman. It’s easy to forget now, given how slavishly DC and Warner Bros. have been (poorly) aping his style for over a decade now but Nolan’s take on the caped crusader was genuinely fresh when audiences first experienced it, wiping away not only the painful memories of Joel Schumacher’s take but also the still campy but more fun style of Tim Burton’s. And since then I’ve enjoyed pretty much every film Nolan has directed though with some reservations in a few cases.

I’m happy to say that Dunkirk is no exception: it’s a very solid piece of work that manages to be a war film where the war is actually horrifying and not simply a stage for rousing heroics. It’s fairly notable for not featuring any German characters at all: the enemy is entirely unseen which, although unconventional, is probably a far more accurate rendition of war than is usually portrayed in Hollywood films. The film does, however, fall victim to some of Christopher Nolan’s weaknesses as a director, lacking in compelling human characters to ground the action (though Cillian Murphy’s shell-shocked soldier, who goes unnamed, is a possible exception). Nonetheless, it’s worth seeing if you’re a fan of either Nolan or his frequent collaborator Hans Zimmer, who makes an already tense film even more riveting.

12. War for the Planet of the Apes by Matt Reeves

It’s often forgotten but the original Planet of the Apes film was not thought of as a particularly cheesy or silly film at the time. Released the same year as 2001: A Space Odyssey, the 1968 picture was considered thought-provoking and though the makeup has aged somewhat (the characters look more like humans than actual chimpanzees or orangutans) it remains pretty visually striking. So the fact that the new Planet of the Apes series (which is ambiguously framed as either prequels or a reboot) has garnered critical acclaim is less a course change than a course correction, getting back to the core of the first film and the novel it was based on before the more campy sequels came along.

Rise of the Planet of the Apes and Dawn of the Planet of the Apes were startlingly good. Both dealt with the concept of consciousness, bioethics, the politics of revolution, and non-human animal rights with a deftness that one would rarely expect from a major studio blockbuster. War of the Planet of the Apes, unfortunately, is a bit more of what one might expect. It’s still good, but compared with the pitch perfect execution of Rise and Dawn, it falters slightly. The villain is a little too simplistic, the arc of Caesar a little too predictable, and the plot basically just moves in a circle so that it’s not really clear if anything was learned or gained from the experience. It’s still worth seeing to finish out the new trilogy, but I’ll admit I was disappointed.

11. Spider-Man: Homecoming by Jon Watts

Given his recent faltering (as much a consequence of Sony Pictures’ financial troubles as anything else), one might be forgiven for thinking Peter Parker was a spent force in the superhero business. If you’re not familiar with comics or the merchandising that drives the genre, it’d be easy to assume the web crawling had long since been eclipsed by Iron Man or Captain America. And indeed, there’s hints of that in Homecoming, which features some heavy guest starring by Tony Stark and lots of references to the other Avengers. But Homecoming also proves that in the right hands, Peter’s still got a lot of storytelling potential.

Spider-Man: Homecoming is relatively unambitious by Spider-Man movie standards but where it aims it mostly hits on target. Compared with the cheeky melodrama of the Sam Raimi / Tobey Maguire films or the Batman Begins-style reboot of the Marc Webb / Andrew Garfield films director Jon Watts aims for a fairly simple coming-of-age story with actor Tom Holland at its center. And he more or less nails that. Holland’s Peter is a little self-centered, but in that very typically adolescent way we all are at a certain age and you can tell he means well. It helps that Homecoming grounds its whimsy with Michael Keaton’s take on the Vulture, which although hardly accurate to the comics makes for one of the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s better villains.

10. Guardians of the Galaxy, Volume 2 by James Gunn

When Guardians of the Galaxy originally debuted in 2014, no one would have guessed it would quickly become one of Marvel’s most celebrated films. Indeed, many industry analysts wondered what the hell Marvel was thinking, making a colorful space adventure powered by 1970s one-hit wonders and starring a talking tree and raccoon. But the skeptics were proved wrong and it’s probably no exaggeration to say that the Guardians now stand second only to Captain America and Iron Man in their impact on the Marvel Cinematic Universe. And so when a sequel was inevitably announced everyone got excited.

Perhaps it should prove no surprise than that Guardians of the Galaxy, Volume 2 is perhaps the most hotly contested Marvel film since Avengers: Age of Ultron. I’ve seen people who’ve been moved to tears by it while I’ve also seen people who loved the first film bored and disappointed by it. It is probably no coincidence that Guardians also centers itself much more tightly on the first film’s nominal lead, Peter Quinn, and the mystery of his parentage. For many this resulted in a male-focused film that lost some of the diverse charm of the original. But others (most compellingly Charlie Jane Anders) argued it allowed the film to tell a compelling story about the dangers of toxic masculinity and patriarchal mythmaking. Personally, I fall somewhere in-between. I saw and appreciated what Volume 2 was doing but I can also acknowledge why some people felt it fell flat.

9. Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi by Rian Johnson

Is there any bigger franchise in the world than Star Wars? Marvel, also owned by Disney, is certainly gunning for the title but the cultural impact of Star Wars, I would argue, goes far beyond what Marvel has achieved (so far). Indeed, Star Wars is so big and so popular that it’s really hard to remember just how weird the first movie was. But it’s worth going back through old interviews with the cast and crew and noting how no one (with the possible exception of Steven Spielberg) thought the movie would be a success, let alone a runaway hit that would spawn a massive media empire.

I’m noted among my friends and followers as being something of a grumpkin when it comes to Episode VII: The Force Awakens. Part of that is just how safe J.J. Abrams played it, opting for a story that more or less replicated the beats of Episode IV: A New Hope and a setting that saw a scrappy rebellion once more engaged against a massive authoritarian empire (at the cost of essentially making the original films seem pointless). Perhaps because of that, Episode VIII was a breath of fresh air. After the fun but largely empty adventure of The Force Awakens, Rian Johnson throws us into a more complicated and at times admittedly dorky version of Star Wars… which is really what the franchise has always been at its best. Obnoxiously cute porgs, goofy humor, and odd pacing, I’ll take them all in a heartbeat when coupled with a story that actually has something to say about the Force and which takes its characters seriously enough to show them fail.

9. Okja by Bong Joon-hoo

Netflix has has a bad run in recent months, with a number of high-profile releases that were widely ridiculed or outright slammed by audiences and critics alike. But not all of Netflix’s “original” pictures (actually usually produced by outside parties and then distributed by Netflix) have gone over poorly and last year one picture in particular garnered critical acclaim: Okja, South Korean director Bong Joon-hoo’s newest feature. And it is certainly worth a watch.

Okja is, at its core, about a young girl and her friendship with a strange, fantastical beast dubbed a “super pig,” and raised as part of a massive corporate publicity stunt to raise support for their genetically engineered food. Of course, that’s simplifying quite a bit. In truth, Okja is an incredibly complicated film, one that can simultaneously criticize the packaged meat industry and animal rights activists, which can make you bond with the suffering of a digitally generated meat animal while also not feeling immediately grossed out when her friends and family sit down minutes later to eat some chicken stew. It’s crazy, it’s twisted, it’s unnerving, and it’s very, very good.

7. Coco by Lee Unkrich

Pixar is one of those studios that I always feel a little bit ambivalent about. They’re indisputably full of great talent and they’ve made some great classics, but often when a new film of theirs is released I’ll confess to usually feeling no great urge to see it. I think part of it is that they’ve been so successful that they crowd out most other animation studios and styles, to the point that even non-Pixar films often imitate their look and style. As a fan of traditional animation as well as animated films that aim at a more adult crowd, I’ll admit that bothers me a little. But every time I actually go and watch a Pixar film I’m almost always pleasantly surprised.

Coco is a really great example. I wasn’t exactly sure whether or not I’d enjoy Pixar’s take on Mexican spirituality, though I did make note of the fact that the studio made a special effort to do its research and hire Latin American performers. When I actually saw it though I was won over completely. Coco is an incredibly beautiful film, with rich music and a genuinely moving story about family, loss, and creativity. It is very easily the best Pixar movie I’ve seen in many years and quite competitive against the likes of Toy Story, Finding Nemo, and The Incredibles. So much for my biases.

6. It (Chapter One) by Andy Muschietti

I wasn’t always a horror fan. For a long time I actively avoided horror and was easily spooked by even the most timid forays into the genre. I’d convinced myself that as a person who was naturally anxious, who avoided the appearance of danger reflexively, horror films would ruin me. I eventually learned, however, that the opposite was true. Given the opportunity to experience fear within a confined, prepared context, I actually found I felt liberated. And I also gradually realized, looking back on my childhood, I’d actually always enjoyed getting a little bit scared from time to time.

It, based on one of horror giant Stephen King’s most famous novels, touches on some of that experience. It positions a group of children as the main characters, unusually for a horror film aimed at adults (as opposed to a children’s fantasy film with horror elements) but it largely works, in part because it reminds us how easy it is to feel as children that something lurks in the shadows that adults won’t tell us about. The film is not perfect—it telegraphs some of its scares too early and is uncomfortably comfortable with sexualizing its female lead, Beverly Marsh—but it is a very good example of a horror film that touches on the psychology of fear and the importance of confronting that which frightens us. I’m definitely looking forward to seeing how the second part turns out.

5. The Shape of Water by Guillermo del Toro

Technically, I didn’t see The Shape of Water until this year. But since it came out in 2017 and everyone’s going to be talking about it over the next few days I felt it was important to include. I often feel Guillermo del Toro is one of those directors who simultaneously gets too much and too little credit. He’s by far one of his generation’s best visual storytellers, with an expert eye for set design and special effects that is scarcely rivaled. He also sometimes tends to write simplistic stories with very easy to follow themes and easily identifiable heroes and villains. So I wasn’t sure what I’d think of The Shape of Water. The answer is that it may be del Toro’s most complex film yet.

That’s a heavy claim of course, given how excellent Pan’s Labyrinth is. But del Toro something does here he never does in any of his previous films (to my recollection) which is write actually complex, nuanced characters. The Asset, del Toro’s male romantic lead, is beautiful in that strangely monstrous way del Toro loves and full of love—but he’s also not above eating domestic animals, which reminds us he’s not human and a little dangerous. Colonel Strickland is a horrible human being in the same mold as Captain Vidal from Pan’s Labyrinth—but he’s also not completely dehumanized here and we get a sense of the pain and desperation that drives him as well. Of course, the real star is Elisa Esposito, the film’s mute heroine who nonetheless never feels voiceless and whose earnest desire to be accepted and loved is moving and universally relatable.

4. Get Out by Jordan Peele

Was it a good a year for horror or what? Not every film was a hit but there were certainly a lot of really high profile releases explicitly labeled as horror in 2017 as well as a number that arguably touch on the genre’s edges (such as Dunkirk, Blade Runner 2049, Okja, and The Shape of Water). And the year’s horror extravaganzas arguably started with Get Out, one of the most talked about movies of the year and the long-form directorial debut of renowned actor and comedian Jordan Peele.

What is there to say about Get Out without entirely spoiling its premise or the major surprises? That it’s a horror film viewed through the lens of a black man’s experience in a white-dominated culture? That’s true but seems reductive. That it manages to be both deeply disturbing and laugh-out-loud funny, sometimes within the span of a single scene? Also true. That it will probably make your skin crawl and cause you to question some of your very basic assumptions about the black experience if you’re not black? Definitely. Altogether, Get Out deeply deserves every accolade its earned and makes a very compelling claim for required viewing in the horror genre as well as the examination of race in American cinema.

3. Wonder Woman by Patty Jenkins

If there’s one movie that’s felt neglected at this year’s Academy Awards after generating a huge amount of conversation it is without a doubt Wonder Woman. After debuting to nearly universal praise and an immense box office return (making it the highest grossing DC Comics movie ever without Batman as the lead character) it has been curiously overshadowed in this year’s accolades, especially considering the arguably favorable timing in the age of Trump and #metoo. Perhaps it’s because there are so many other good films to choose from. But for my money Wonder Woman beats many of them.

Wonder Woman is not a perfect film but is definitely excellent. Featuring a compelling and passionate lead in Gal Gadot and built around a story about war, fear, and why helping people matters even if they’re flawed, Wonder Woman impressed and thrilled me… and I’m not even a fan of the character (nothing against her, I just haven’t read the source material). I also have to give the film a big thumb’s up for telling possibly the best love story in a superhero film since Captain America: The First Avenger and for doing so in a way that centered the female gaze. Also, as someone who’s been continually frustrated with how small Marvel’s gods seem, it was gratifying to see some truly mythic mythology in Wonder Woman.

2. Thor: Ragnarok by Taika Waititi

Of course, Marvel had to come along the same year and prove that they can do gods right. I’ve never been as much of a critic of the Thor films as many others have—I thought the first Thor, while silly also had a great message and genuinely great chemistry between its too leads (I for one will miss Natalie Portman, who’s sorely underrated). But there’s no denying they’ve often felt trapped between embracing the melodramatic and mythopoeic origins and staying true to the style and trappings of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. But finally, with New Zealand’s talented son Taika Waititi, someone got it just right.

My greatest fear, going into Thor: Ragnarok was that, like previous Thor films it would be silly but forgettable. That the trailers seemed to be aping the style of the the Guardians of the Galaxy films did not do much to alleviate this feeling. But that was very much not the case. Far from being just a silly romp (which some critics still described it as), Ragnarok is actually a great story that examines the core of who Thor is, both as a Marvel superhero and as an actual, literal god. It also happens to be very funny. But ultimately it’s not the laughs that won me over. It’s Odin’s speech to his son about what it means to be a god, the responsibility that entails, and why it’s the ideas that matter, not the things or places we associate with them.

1. Atomic Blonde by David Leitch

As aforementioned it was a great year for horror. It was also very clearly a pretty good year for superheroes, with both Marvel and DC breaking out of their usual patterns. My number one favorite film was not, however, a superhero or horror film. It was a spy film, a genre for which I have great affection but which has become neglected in recent years. I am, of course, talking about Atomic Blonde.

I’ve never seen the John Wick films—a personal failing many of my friends are happy to remind me of—but if they’re anything like Atomic Blonde, directed by one of the men behind the camera of those films, I understand the love. Atomic Blonde is a pitch perfect spy film, combining intrigue, frenetic action, and the sexy thrills we’ve come to expect from the genre in a seamless fashion. It also happens to have come out right at the peak of 80s nostalgia but while the film makes extensive use of an 80s soundtrack for excellent effect, it doesn’t feel trapped by that style the way many other projects do. Atomic Blonde is without a doubt a modern film, doing things with cinematography and choreography I didn’t even know were possible. I can’t recommend it enough.

And that’s it me for me. I don’t even remotely expect my ranking to line up perfectly with any of yours (heck, my ranking changed several times writing this) but I’m curious. What did you love? What did you hate? Share your thoughts in the comments.

[dansoy18-blog]

Reading Blog

Name: Raydan M. Tangwayan Book Title: The Fault in our Stars Author: John Green Name of Output: Reading Logs Part I- A.) Reflection: Life is always unpredictable. We don't really understand how things tend to happen us. In some points, what we don't expect will occur. Or reversibly, What we expect will never happen. Based on the novel, Hazel Grace didn't really assumed to meet someone that will make her fall in love. There is this Augustus Waters who is also a cancer patient in the Support Group. At first glance to each other, something to be called as magic happened. They become friends and flirt like they've already knew each other. With this scenario, it conveys the fact that at some instances, we meet strangers that makes us feel comfortable to be with. We don't really know who they are, what they do, what they think about the world but it is a fact that we sometimes don't really care if they mean something already for us. At the end, Augustus still died. What do this make me reflect to? In our life, we meet lots of people to learn out from them. They may implicate or influence us and utters that we can't live without them, but the fact is that it doesn't really mean for the two of you to stay forever. You meet to learn, not to be with each other. We meet them to understand that we need to be strong and to continue our journey in this inconstant world. B.) Connect: I can connect this novel to a certain episode of a Filipino TV show, "Maalaala Mo Kaya" (MMK) of the ABS-CBN, as starred by Joshua Garcia and Julia Baretto. The story revolved to the plight, where the two characters beloved each other, 'til slowly broken by the scenario when Julia, had cancer and Joshua begun to be uneasy, watching Julia in the hospital and do stuffs to assist her. Meanwhile, as part of the unpredictable event in life, the character of Joshua died, and Julia was left agonizing with cancer plus feeling the excruciating pain of having her loved person left her due to sudden death. This true-to-life story as conveyed is another testimony that life is really full of surprises. It may not be just good surprises where we jump with gladness and bliss, but also sadness and grief. So, let's just be ready for everything, and everyday should really be our best performance because we don't really know what tomorrow could bring. C.) Question: I really wonder why they have sex with each other, considering their ages, which is still minor. Aside from that, their situation is very uncertain, which is having cancer. So, why sex? I really question the concept of affection in this juncture on the novel. For me, isn't it stupidity and lust, rather than love? Well, Filipino and American do differ in culture and norms, in anyways, so, no hard feeling. D.) Predict: I was really wondering, why is it that the end of the book, which Hazel Grace and Augustus like (in the novel) was hanging and was never told. The author of that certain may have internal conflict, as her daughter died, yet I was really at my pursuit to say that the person behind the novel the two characters love too, will have an end that he will still fight, regardless of what happened to him. Also with the story of Hazel, she might be so down upon losing her love, but in the end, I know she'll be better and will combat with the punches of life in the ring, and maybe she will not win in the end, yet the the thing that matters most is how you play with life's game. Time heals, and moving on doesn't really mean forgetting, rather inviting positivity and realize that everything happens for a reason. Part II- A.) Letter to the Author: Sir John, I really appreciate your skill and intellect in writing such wonderful novel. I know what you've invested for the success of your novel. Time, effort, money, sleep, brain and emotion. I was really moved as to how the story circulated, which conveys the message that life is really an amazing gift from God that we need to cherish. Uncertainty is always inevitable, yet you have showed in your novel that we should always be positive in every way. It's just natural that we lose something valuable for us, but you articulated that it can be replaced by something more valuable. We lose and fail, but we learn something out from those things. In all of our days, we should be thinking that everyday is a new day, and a new chance to make our life better by inviting the spirit of optimism. God bless Sir, and thank you for letting me culled out something from what you've written. Sincerely Yours, Raydan M. Tangwayan B.) Song Composition (book two to be followed)

Reading Log 2 Name: Raydan M. Tangwayan Book Title: A Walk to Remember Author: Nicholas Sparks Part I- A.) Reflection: The novel made me think of how a teenage guy typically have experienced as part of growing. Having an affair like crushies, ball, having little conflict with parents and blushing because of feeling like we already love someone. However, the novel inevitably have a different plot being told. This story actually tells us about how "true" love really means. If we really love a person, we really have to accept everything about them. Whatever she is, as long as we have decided that we are destined for each other, nothing would stop us, even death. The title, "A Walk to Remember", have meant a lot to me. Almost all of us have our distinct walks, depending upon what are situations. So, in every walk, make the most of it because we don't know, it may be the last walk we'll make. B.) Connect: I can connect to the story to a featured report of ABS-CBN news (TV Patrol), about couples marrying each other even if its not really that ideal to do so. The girl was the one with good state, while the man was dying with illness. Though they already know that uncertainty will happen, they still continued the wedding, to utter their vows that they'll be one in sickness, in abundance and unplenty, and even death. Together, they'll live with there promises, as a vouch for their genuine love. True love indeed wins. C.) Question: I was wondering, why is it that almost all of the parents, just Luke that of Lando's father really urged their children to follow them? They may think that, it is for their legacy, but, isn't it very unintelligent and they've resorted out from their responsibility as a parent? Why do politician father naturally act like this? D.) Predict: Jamie and Landon suppose to have a romantic intimate relationship. However, it turned out to grief and sadness because of death of Jaimie. Since Jaimie died, I feel that at the end, after Jaimie died, Landon felt loving other person again as she may have met someone that resembles Jaimie, yet he suppose not to love again because of the trauma of being left again. It may sound too less likely to happen, yet it is not a fallacy that we tend to really have the feeling of fear to be left again. First impression last, as they said. So, it is really possible that as Landon's first encounter to love, it is already pinned into his heart that love is like a gamble, it hurts when we lose. Part II- A.) My feeling about the character: I would like to express my feeling about Landon's genuine love for Jaimie. Landon, I salute you for the loyalty you have for your only one, Jaimie. In this millenial, having and choosing a partner will never be based as to how you intimately feel, rather what you think will the two of you benefit if you will be together. For example, having girlfriend for the sake of having someone to date with, talk with, hang out with and sex with. That's how the youth of today feels for love, I mean lust. The novel was set on 1954, so, I see the big difference. On the other hand, for you Landon, I was really hoping that more people should have to be like you. Love is merely not just about what you feel, and think what's best. It should always be from the heart, and willing to accept all and take the risk, and you did it bro. Thank you so much. B.) Letter to the Author: Sir Sparks, I was not really into books, bit finds interest reading, depending upon the entertainment value I can get from reading. I would like you to know, that through this letter of mine, I can be able to express my admiration to your masterpiece. There are lots of highly intellectual people, like your co-writers, but I consider your book, same as to the Fault on our Stars, Percy Jackson, Harry Potter, and many other books as an excellent form of art ever given to humanity. Sir, I was moved to tears with your plot. Typically, men do really get rid out of the situation when knowing that whom he had affection towards was dying, should directly be left. In your write ups, you disproved the mentality of plastic lobe and lust. You've indirectly sent the message that love is very significant as a human being. Sir, I hope you'll be able to create more stories and invite us to motivate ourselves to explore learning through reading. Sincerely Yours, Raydan M. Tangwayan Reading Log 3 Name: Raydan M. Tangwayan Book: Fifty Shades of Grey Author: Erika Mitchell (EL James) Part I A.) Reflection: The novel is an erotic trilogy, which depicts the darker sides of human, and that pertains to sex.