#heard this one from another blind guy and it got me XD

[razzek]

Speaking of jokes, here's my favorite blind joke (heard on Discord):

Two guys are at a urinal and one notices the other is blind.

"Hey man, can I help you?" says the first guy.

"Sure," the blind guy says. "Can you hold my stick?"

The sighted man reaches for the guy's white cane.

"No, the big one."

[nirikeehan]

Thalia & Garrett Hawke - “I’ve got you!” from PUT THEM IN SITUATIONS XD Shenanigans

HEYO thank you for this prompt. I've always been curious about the Hawke you meet in the default Inquisition world state because for so long I believed he was just A Guy and not the protag of the previous game. So here's an attempt to capture that character as I saw him then.

For @dadrunkwriting

WC: 1776

---

“Where did that damned Inquisitor go?” Hawke asked Varric. They sat in the shadow of a tumbledown stone tower, which seemed untouched since the time of the Second Blight. They were taking a break, Hawke had thought, for lunch. Only once he and Varric and the large Qunari had unwrapped their meager rations of stale bread and hard cheese, Lady Thalia Trevelyan was nowhere to be found. 

The Iron Bull lounged against a stone wall, taking a hearty sip of their precious canteen water. “Saw her go out that way.” He pointed. “Something about wanting to find out where that ladder we found near the canyon went.” 

“Bloody hell,” Hawke groused. “It’s the hottest part of the day. And there’s quillbacks and varghests about, not to mention darkspawn, bandits and the Venatori. And the girl goes off on her own?”

Varric chuckled from where he sat beside by the burnt out shell of an ancient ballista. “You didn’t have to come out here with us, Hawke. We have it all well in hand.” 

Hawke ground his teeth, biting back his response — that he’d seen Lady Thalia picking her current field team back at Griffon Wing Keep. He’d been aghast that she found it perfectly acceptable to head out into the simmering heat with his best friend, a Qunari spy, and a boy who couldn’t be a day over sixteen. (“It’s a bit more complicated than that with Cole,” Varric said unhelpfully when Hawke had complained.) 

Varric aside, Garrett Hawke didn’t trust the others as far as he could throw them, and so he’d heard himself volunteer to replace Cole, who’d been stymied by tying his own shoelaces after he’d shaken roughly an inch of sand from his boot. Now that Hawke had reported the enemy was gathering at Adamant Fortress, he’d needed something to keep him useful to the Inquisition in the mean time. Low-level mercenary work might have once felt beneath the Champion of Kirkwall, but these days, beggars could not be choosers. 

And the Inquisitor herself seemed like she needed all the help she could get. 

Hawke sighed, using his staff to leverage himself to his feet. He was regretting the layers of leather and metal he’d worn out to this Maker-forsaken corner of Thedas. He’d thought he was accustomed to warm climes after the years he’d spent in Kirkwall, but the boiling temperatures of the Western Approach were on another level entirely. “I suppose I’ll look for her.”  

“Don’t go making it sound like such a sacrifice,” Varric cracked. “Thalia’s fine. She just gets curious, is all.” 

He felt a pang of annoyance that Varric would act like he had a better read on anyone in their company than Hawke did. That had been a joint task, those years ago. And there had been a time when Hawke himself had delighted in the unknown, the adventure that might lie around every corner. Maker’s teeth, what’s happened to me?

“She’s young,” Hawke pointed out. “Maybe too young to be running an operation like this one.” 

“Yeah, maybe,” Varric conceded, chewing on a crust of bread. “But she’s got the energy for it. Not like us world-weary assholes.” 

Hawke trudged away, under the archway of the ruined tower, and out into the blinding orange sands. A scorching wind hit his face, ruffling his dark hair and getting grit under his beard. He stifled another sigh and wrapped the linen scarf he’d bought from a vendor at the keep around his face. He’d oft wondered why nomads in this part of the world dressed so, but soon the need for loose-fitting yet constant shade had become inescapable. 

He doubled back the way the party had come, using the prints in the sand to guide him. Four sets of tracks approached, already fading into the rippled dunes. Only one fresher set led away, the side approximately that of a young woman’s boot. Hawke noted they were headed in the direction of the wide canyon, likely proving Iron Bull right. 

Why must the girl climb every ladder she sees? Hawke wondered as he marched. It was a near compulsion, it seemed to him. Maker help them if there was no ladder, but only a ruined wall, or tower, or statue, or even a peculiarly shaped tree. Up she went, climbing with gusto and abandon, on the most rickety of structures, beaming down at the party with a lady-like wave. At least the Tevinter mage and the dour Grey Warden had the sense to tell her she was being foolhardy. Varric seemed oddly endeared and far too indulgent, the way he’d gotten with Merrill back in Kirkwall. Some to think of it, there was a bit of Merrill’s bright spirit in Lady Thalia. As well as her recklessness. But more than that, she reminded Hawke of someone else. Someone he tried not to think of for too long. Dwelling on the past, he’d learned, didn’t wake the dead. 

He reached the lip of the canyon, where the soft sand gave way to hard rock and Thalia’s footprints disappeared. He had to rely on memory from here on out.

Hawke found the ladder jutting from an outcropping of rock, leading to a splintery scaffolding well above his head. “Lady Thalia?” he called impatiently. “Are you up there?”

“Ser Hawke?” floated the girl’s faint voice on the wind. “Is that you?”

Hawke grabbed a rung and began to climb. “You know, I’m not technically a ser. I was never knighted.” 

No, the Champion of Kirkwall had been everything except officially recognized for his accomplishments. Every authority figure in the blasted city came to him for aid, but it was Varric who saw to it that he had lasting recognition. For all the good that had done him. 

Hawke climbed to the top of the ladder, where a rickety scaffolding straddled the space between two cliff faces. Another ladder led down into the crevice, which led to a sudden drop off into the gargantuan gorge they’d been skirting all day. Thalia stood near the edge gazing out on the blighted landscape. The Western Approach had never quite recovered from the Second Blight, that much was clear. Ominous smoke clouds drifted overhead at odd parts of the day, and some areas were still scorched black. 

Thalia gazed upon one such speck in the landscape now, the hot breeze pulling back the strands of auburn hair that fell into her face. Hawke climbed down carefully, frowning at the uneven quality of the structure. “Have you found anything interesting?” 

“Oh, loads. A mosaic piece under that scaffolding, for starters. And do you see the mark of the Blight, over on the other side of the canyon? It’s a living piece of history, right there.” 

“I’m not sure about the living part.” Hawke had seen a lot out here in the Approach, and couldn’t shake how most of it was dead. Bleached white bones of those long deceased. Abandoned remnants of mines, quarries, outposts, forts. At first Hawke wasn’t sure that Serault fellow was even truly alive, behind the obscuring mask. “But I’m… glad you’re getting something out of it.”

He couldn’t bring himself to scold her, although he wanted to. But he had no right; she was not a troublesome sibling, strayed too far from home. Hawke strode up behind Lady Thalia, and tried to see the landscape as she saw it, scowling when he failed miserably. 

“So,” Thalia said, turning to him. “What do you need?”

“Need? Ah, nothing.” He crossed his arms and avoided her gaze. 

The young woman frowned. “You came all this way… and you don’t need anything?” 

Hawke shrugged. “Is it a crime to wonder if you’d be all right by yourself?”

“Are you worried about me, Ser Hawke?” Her voice was light and teasing, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Something flickered inside Hawke; a lightness he hadn’t felt in so long he’d forgotten himself capable. 

“Listen,” he said gruffly. “With the position you’re in, we can’t afford to lose you.”

“I appreciate that.” The way she said it made him suspect she was merely being polite.

An awkward silence stretched, during which Hawke struggled to come up with something else to say. Instead, he thought of Bethany, her bright smile and cheeky demeanor, that damn bandana she always wore around her neck. There was too much of her memory wound up in his perception of this girl, he was beginning to see it now. But who could blame him, when in reality they seemed so much alike. 

Thalia looked away first, down the chasm that stretched out before them. “Hey— hang on, do you see that?” 

“What?” Hawke peered over the side, to where Thalia was pointing, and a cold trickle of dread wound its way down his spine. On an outcropping of rock, twenty or so feet down, was a pile of skeletons. All of a sudden, he wondered what the scaffolding, the ladders, this entire strange little establishment in the middle of nowhere meant, in the past or in the present. “Maker have mercy.” 

“I need to get down there,” Thalia said with impressive resolve. “I need to see how recent this was. Maybe there’s something there that can tell us who these people were.” 

“Thalia, I wouldn’t.” The side of the cliff had nothing in the way of footholds. The outcropping itself seemed narrow and unsteady, and beyond it was a drop that would surely kill anyone. 

But she was already pacing the space, looking for a way to climb down. “I think if I just braced myself like this—”

She planted her boot against the rock, but lost purchase and slid out from under her. In horror, Hawke watched her fall. Without thinking, he reached out into the open air, seized her arm. She let out a yelp, but stopped short, banging against the cliff face. Hawke jerked with the weight of her momentum, but seized the wall for support. “Hold on. Hold on, I’ve got you.” 

It took a few harrowing moments to rebalance themselves, but Hawke managed to drag Thalia back over the edge. She stumbled against him, panting, trousers torn and knees bloody. Hawke grabbed her shoulders to steady her. “Thanks,” she muttered, clinging to him and catching her breath. 

“See what I told you?” Hawke demanded. “You’ve got to be more careful.”

“You don’t have to be so self-righteous about it,” Thalia retorted. “Who do you think you are, my father?” 

Hawke opened his mouth, but words failed him, so he closed it. That wasn’t a can of worms he wanted to open. Not now, not ever. 

[twilightofthe]

gonna put my random liveblog reactions for Ahsoka Ep 1 here

okay so the rebels fam are literally some of my favorite star wars characters i've loved and missed them since 2018 and if anything this show will give me them

i am going with zero expectations except a plea, a plea to just not make me hate it lmao idc what happens just let me have fun

just press the start button coward ass come ON

okay i'm startiiiing Now!

oooh they didn't name it interesting

kk cool drums that's neat we like that

whoa was that sabine's helmet in the intro????

OPENING TITLE SCROLL?????

WE REALLY LIKE THAT????????

y'all the new republic's about as stable as a human jenga tower don't u have anything better to do than find thrawn i'm p sure even the imperials didn't like him THAT much they were xenophobes

former jedi knight? HMMMM

why is it always a secret map

also appreciating the OG "let's open up on big ass ship in space" makes you feel small

ok have i heard this new republic(?) captain actor before he seems familiar

bitch literally anyone could have an old jedi clearance code clearance codes were passed around like

yeah he doesn't trust it either

but i feel like he's actually dickish and we're not supposed to like him so

ah yes rebel soldiers and their stupid-ass egg helmets

wait old white bearded guy you ain't obi wan you AIN'T a jedi

his voice sounds familiar too

i have such face blindness lmao

oh whoops that's a darkside saber his friend has!

she kinda looks like Merrin from JFO

Eh probs some kinda Nightsister of sorts

I'm guessing he's some Inquisitor who got forgotten

Hmm we really paralleling ANH with darkside guy slaughtering all the egghelmet guys on a ship xD

Ok his name is Baylan

And hers is Morgan and the intro crawl mentioned her but my memory is shit so I don't quite remember what she was about except vague Thrawn-related reasons

ooooh name drop!

aaaaaAAAAA RIGHT IN THE EMOTIONS NOOO NO THE AHSOKA AND ANAKIN LEITMOTIFF TWILIGHT OF THE APPRENTICE THEME

ok i'm good lol

ohh wait so there IS a title

master and apprentice

alas it seems like the thing i didn't want is gonna happen but we are staying OPEN MINDED we are going to SEE

ok lots of tall pillars in what looks like another fuckin desert lmao

ey there's Snips

something on the ground? That kinda looks Sith-ish but also I have like no clue

hmm did they kinda fix her montrals or not i can't tell

Ehhhhh slightly

eyyyy wait are those the world-between-worlds lines

the statues kinda look like nightsisters but also like old sith statues

mmm caress the whispering pillar

ok indiana jones time to get your ass out of there before the booby trap

what am i saying she's anakin and obi wan's spawn she LIKES this shit

oh hey she made something happen

i feel like all of these pillars should have been turned at once

the force likes teamwork and that kinda thing

but it also kinda echoes maul and ezra's little teamwork exercise lifting those walls in the sith temple that one time

ope she found something

guessing it's the Magic Maul Map

ooh it's one of those bakugon balls or whatever they were we played with as a kid i had one that turned into a dragon

H U Y A N G

SHOW ME MY ROBOBITCH

armor person hello

what's the mask that's not a mando is it

nah i don't think it is

nah

is it a person in armor or a droid i can't tell

oh subs say droids they're droids

you poor bastards curbstomping droids was her high school internship job she is WAY more qualified than you

wasn't quite expecting ahsoka to play whackamole but good for her that sounds fun

oh hell yeah we stan the droids that self destruct xD

waiiiit yeah i forgot she had a B-wing they're cool!

STILL LOVE ME HUYANG

ahsoka there was NO way you didn't wait till the last moment to jump away from that explosion except to be dramatic

"the order doesn't exist anymore" you shush missy we KNOW you know who luke is he's trying his best

ahsoka lbr do you even know what standard jedi protocol is

Fulcruuuuum

DAMN FUCKING RIGHT HUYANG IS FULCRUM HE DESERVES IT

also he looks so good in live action i forgot to mention that!!!!! <3

"T-6" girl u need to name your SHIP anakin would be APPALLED

well if that's the same ship with the darksiders on at least

h3ERA

HERA

HERA HERA HERA

HERA MY BELOVED

wHERES CHOPPER

WHERES CJASON JACEN WHATEVERTHE FUCK

H E RA

oh right this is mary elizabeth winstead oh boy i hope she does well!

i wonder if ewan was there

aNYWAY HERA

ok unpausing sorry had a Moment

General

Ok so the voices aren't quite matching but we'll see

ooooh hera has a patch on her jacket let's go back to that later

"abilities like you" hera kanan told you what darksiders were like inquisitors tried to kill y'all

she has sabines firebird on her jacket

don't mention thrawn around hera she'll just think of ezra ;_;

oh so morgan was thrawn's

EZRA NAME MENTION

GONNA DIE

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

ok this is nothing on mary's performance she's doing fine but hera's dialogue doesn't quiiiite seem her? we'll see

oh yeah and rosario's doing better this time more natural

IT’S LOTHAL LOTHAL LIVE ACTION LOTHAAAAAAAAL

ITS BEAUTIFUL SO SO BEAUTIFUL

wait who's speaking

THEY SAID EZRA AGAI

THAT'S FUCKING RYDER

RYDER AZADI HELLO YOU WONDERFUL BASTARD YOU LOOK GREAT

Hi Clancy Brown good to see you do you know you have an evil Devaronian twin who's running around bothering Din Djarin as we speak

well at least sabine still hates politics

my dude ryder you know her tf did she say to make you think she was coming at all lol

WAIT JAI

JAI KELL HELLO EZRA'S EX BOYFRIEND

YOU'RE SO HANDSOME MY BOY ALL GROWN UP WONDERFUL

wait ryderrrr c'mon don't be a dick again you were so well

OH HELLO GWEN STACY SPIDERVERSE VIBES

not quiiiiite liking how sabine grew her gay haircut out in this but still digging the bike fit

also hello Natasha good luck pls treat my dear well i love her greatly!!!

hmmm not sure how much i like other non-OG ghost crew giving themselves Spectre callsigns yes i AM being gatekeepy fuck off

good sabine is running from authorities we do love that

hey her voice kinda matches that's great!

oh i'm liking her acting already

i think

SHE HAS A LOTH CAT ON HER HELMET

that's my GIRL

also it's very interesting how the pilots call each other by their spectre callsigns but address sabine--an ORIGINAL spectre--exclusively by name

lothkitty LOTHCAT

LITHCAT WITH THE FOOOOOFYTAIL AND LITTLE SPINDLE LEGS

im gonna DIE

it's so cute i can't even

also getting Emotions(TM) at ezra's old tower

hmm you think sabine has depression

FUCK OFF WITH THAT SABINE SEES EZRA MUSICAL CALLBACK

oh hey hey it's his original message to theeeeem

wait shit yeah it's the new one just to her

ooh it's eman! i can't see his faaaaace expressions but the voice sounds similar? like it seems like he's tryna match taylor's way of speaking good for him

ok yes but ezra is a jedi show pretty please for me don't go there with sabine

ok ok that's enough complaining from me lmao

ACTUALLY NO WAIT ONE MORE *inhales*

i would prefer sabine and ezra to stay platonic friends. no hate to shippers but i just personally would like them to be friends/siblings, that's what would make me happiest because i like to imagine sabine as a lesbian and also their dynamic as friends/siblings just makes me happy

but shippers are of course still welcome here and if they do become a couple i won't begrudge you your fun :')

ok ok ok ok ok NOW i'm done lmao

back to Best Boy sorry bby you were speaking and i interrupted you <3

oh hey hey he did say sister! i'd like that!!!

but also ezra when tf did you have the time to record those both weren't u a bit busy planning the attack on lothal

oh it's darkside goth girl

nice smoky eye

oh wait fuck she's got a PADAWAN BRAID

heyyyyyy i was RIGHT about the temple statues looking like nightsisters!

but wrong about darkside goth girl being one then tho

well masked emo fucker following bryan or whatever his name is is probs an inquisitor

wait wait wait does MORGAN have gold eyes?

ooooooo

oh no wait darkside apprentice has gold eyes again

ugh okay so we ARE getting force sensitive sabine then

alright fine i'll make my peace with it this episode

even though it makes no SENSE

no no pe not going there we are going to have FUN

aaaaa repeating ezra's final dialogue from the rebels finale ;_;

love the mirroring shots to rebels ep 1 RIGHT DOWN TO SABINE WEARING EZRA'S ORANGE

ahsoka and anakin leitmotiff coming back hmmm

oh wait fuck i think ezra drew those lothcats oof ;_;

ok good good we going back to sabine being the rightful art expert in the gffa take second place and DUNK urself thrawn

ok i get they're tryna make them ex master and apprentice but imma say it. imma SAY IT

ahsoka and sabine give awkward exes vibes

BIG awkward exes vibes

m a s t e r

you both know damn well she's gonna take it anyway or at least try who are y'all even kidding urselves

oooh surprise surprise the darksider are former jedi-associated

oh right his name's baylan not bryan

WHY ARE YOU SURPRISED

oh there's goth darkside girl

if anyone hurts sabine's cat i will kill the entire world and then myself

i swEAR TO GOD

WHY DOES THE SHOW KEEP MAKING AHSOKA AND SABINE SEEM LIKE ANGRY EXES LMAOOOO

COME ON

ahsoka ur being emo so hera is allowed to make a dig at anakin

hera you're trying your best girl lmao

it's always rule of three it seems

kinda gives me that mortis trinity vibe

this reminds me of the time i got one of those 3D puzzles from barnes and noble and i was supposed to take it apart and put it back together and failed utterly

ope she did it!

again if someone even TOUCHES that fucking cat wrong i go full john wick

bitch NO SHOOTING NEAR THE CAT

ope they smashed the map

ahsoka my dude i'm guessing you know where sabine lives why didn't u just go find her lmao

wait does sabine have ezra's green lightsaber i can't tell from the hilt because i'm shit at recognizing hilts

i can't even appreciate the duel because i am admittedly pouting but they are both very pretty at least

sabine how r u not getting ur hair chopped off

oh fuck she got stabbed?

maybe shoulda worn ur mando armor

oh and she's still MOVING

oh nope there she goes

oh wait who's Ray? :(

okay

okay okay okay

dave my dude.........

okay so i am going to take some time like a few minutes or so

and process this sabine thing

like if i cannot find a way to come to fucking terms with it i will not be able to enjoy this series

ik ik that sounds dramatic i'm just

hmm ok five minutes

[night-faye]

THERE HE IS!! MACZILLA FIREFOX! He protecc, he attacc, he Macacc. Anyways. In his little edgy cave I like to joke is like living in Wukong's ceiling attic XD good view of the mountain from up there? Adore the lanterns Macky hung up here, he really likes them!! There's some of those during the Brotherhood's dinner scene too. Probably his decor suggestion for their little kingdom :D When we next see him again when the gang drops off, he's in a whole new cave because the last one was over a cliff, this new one seems to be in Wukong's secret room? Would this be the monkey equivalent of couch surfing 🤔 also dwaa, he's just napping with the monkey but lol sir? Why are you opening your blind eye to check, I mean. is it the instinct of possibly being right side dominant? but he's smiling happily at the hugs and MK's choice 🥺 *punches his shoulder* knew you had a heart in there bud! So goofy, he swings on the vines of the shadows. The physics of this power is fascinating. It's a total different plane of existence oooh, I forgot to mention we actually call that void Macky's "Shadow Realm" in the fics :D Lol, I mean. I suppose Wukong has difficulties facing things and that could seem like ignoring them, but not because he doesn't care. I'd say MK is pretty accurate in his assessment here. But the question is: Which assessment does Wukong agree with VS what's true. We're always our own worst critics especially when we internalize *gets dragged off stage-* Somebody's shocked, hard to tease a guy flickering and defeated. "Nice tail by the way. That's new." NICE ATTEMPT AT SMALL TALK LOL. "C'mon misery kid. I've got something to show you." 1) MISERY KID. 2) ITS THE FACT HE HAD THIS GAME PREPARED. Did you know. 3) "As for Macaque, well. That coward has tucked himself away. Somewhere even I can't sniff him out." Why did you have to say it like that. WHY ARE YOU SO OBSESSED WITH HIM. Lmaoo. Anyways, maybe Macky's ears heard Peng was looking for him and was like "peace out" ✌️ 🚶 Being a bird and calling a monkey a rodent and also knowing how to hunt him by scent mmm 🤨 Alright splitting the text and waiting for you to get there so I can just back track on what I said instead of sending another ask going "and here's why I had to reference that last one a lot!" I see you've gotten to where Macky himself confesses that he can ALSO sniff out Wukong. Where's that poetry that's like "I would know his scent even in death." C'MON my guy, you're tattling on yourself here and it's also why I was raising my eyebrow at Peng earlier that is SUSPECT. *looks at me getting dragged off stage above.* hehe, soon. Because yessiree! It's that "Not the Great Sage! He's gotta drag everyone else into his mess." Just like S3 Wukong who flew off saying he needed to stop dragging everyone into his mess :D almost like all those faces they were making during MK's rant meant something, almost like this whole thing about not abandoning your best friend- HAHAHAHAHA >:) BY THE WAY FAYE I HAVE EVEN MORE FUN NEWS. Remember when I was so hooked on Macky's intro? Finally four whopping seasons later. "It's great seeing ya bud!" Yeah he was just throwing Wukong's line here right back at him. Same emphasis on "bud" and all. A whole divorce and couple centuries dead and he's STILL hooked on that. The fact that it was followed up with "just run off like you always do." is extra ouch because it's what Peng always saw him as and Wukong never stepped in and here he's AGREEING. Have you always thought that. I'm glad you're having a breakdown over all the cuteness, as promised ^_^ and the voices yesss, they managed to capture so much nuance here I ADORE IT. Best animated verbal fight EVER.

[immortalcoelacanth]

Security Breach Oneshot: Gregory Kneecaps Moon

An alternate title to this might be "Gregory Kneecaps Moon and Has a Mental Breakdown" XD

I've always been a fan of feral children going absolutely apeshit and Security Breach has only given me more inspiration. I'd also like to apologize to all fans of Moon for that lowkey brutalization of him, but the child was destined to snap at some point. Anyways, onto the oneshot!

Word count: 2233

Summary: It was at this moment that Gregory finally chose violence.

Gregory was terrified.

It wasn’t the same fear that he felt while running through the Mega Pizzaplex. That steady, fast pace beating of his heart which left his palms sweaty whenever he heard a loud noise nearby. The fear for his life that slowly dulled as time went on yet remained a constant in the back of his mind. That fear he was familiar with after all his time spent on the streets, sleeping in cardboard boxes and scrounging whatever scraps of food he could find.

No, the terror Gregory felt as he watched Freddy slam into the ground while that creepy moon guy loomed behind him was something else entirely. It was like his shoes were glued to the ground, stuck watching as Freddy stared blankly up at the ceiling, sparks occasionally shooting out of his head while those too dull eyes looked at nothing. His mouth felt dry and his hands were shaking. He didn’t know what to do, what should he do-

And then that bastard, that moon bitch had the audacity to wave at him.

Like a switch was flipped inside him, the terror that had previously filled his mind immediately turned into sheer, blinding rage.

It was one thing if Gregory was attacked, he was honestly used to having to duck, run, or fight, but for someone as sweet, compassionate, and caring as Freddy to get hurt? For someone he had grown to care about becoming hurt while protecting him?

Someone was going to die tonight, and it wouldn’t be him or Freddy.

All of Moon’s attention was focused on trying to drag the much larger animatronic over to Parts and Service, and as such he was completely oblivious to the sounds of the recharge station door sliding open and the faint scratching of something metallic being picked up off the ground until it was too late.

The sudden, enraged screaming was the only warning Moon got, glowing red eyes looking up just in time to spot the child racing towards him. A rusted pipe was clutched in Gregory’s hands, grip tight enough to make them ache, as the first of many tears started to fall.

Every scrap of knowledge he had on fighting, watching the older kids and adults duke it out over items and food, flowed into his mind. He had seen what he needed to do before, and knew the exact effect it would have.

Moon might not have been a human, but he still had knees.

CRACK!

Before the animatronic could even reach out to the boy and try to wrestle the pipe away from him, he swung. The blow landed and Gregory watched at the joint bent backwards, feeling an immense amount of satisfaction as Moon crumpled to the ground.

And yet, even with his enemy cowering before him, Gregory was far from done.

“DON’T!”

BANG!

“YOU!”

SNAP!

“TOUCH!”

CRUNCH!

“HIM!”

Each shout was punctuated with yet another swing of the pipe, Gregory aiming at every weak point he could think of to both keep the animatronic down and cause him as much pain as possible. An arm broke under the blows, plastic casing splintering and exposing more of that vulnerable endoskeleton.

He only stopped swinging when those glowing eyes dimmed, backing up as Moon fully dropped to the floor, going still.

Gregory panted as he stared down at the deactivated animatronic, eyes flickering between the cracked face and the pipe in his hands. He was once again filled with the urge to lash out, to feel that plastic shell fully break under the force of his rage, but the sound of a static-laced groan quelled his anger.

For now.

The pipe was tossed to the side, promptly forgotten about as the young boy rushed back to his guardian. He dropped to his knees, ignoring the stinging pain of the harsh concrete scraping them as he focused on Freddy. He reached his hands out, wanting nothing more than to see if Freddy was okay, but he hesitated.

What if he did something wrong? What if he hurt Freddy by accident? What if-

“Gregory…”

The static laced voice was enough to snap him out of his spiral, as well as the heavy, metallic paw that gently landed on the top of his head. Gregory froze, tears trailing down his face as he struggled to get his emotions back under control. Slowly he looked up, his watery eyes meeting those of the animatronic.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but before he could form the words he heard the groaning of metal. Joints creaked as Freddy set both his paws on the ground and slowly pushed himself upright. Sparks shot out of his neck, and Gregory swore he could see smoke seeping out of some of the seams.

His fingers felt numb, his heart was racing, and it felt like he was seeing things from a mile away, but that didn’t stop him from trying to help the animatronic. Carefully relying on Gregory for some support, Freddy maneuvered his way over to the closest wall and started standing up.

It took some time, quite a bit of effort, and the occasional pause to make sure the animatronic’s spasms didn’t cause him to fall over, but eventually Freddy was upright as he leaned heavily against the wall. He almost sounded like he was panting, fans gusting under the strain his systems were enduring.

And yet, he still took a step forward. Then another, and another.

“We must… go… not safe… here.”

Each static laced word brought agony to Gregory’s ears, not just because the sounds were painful, but also because of the implication of how hard Freddy was pushing himself to get both himself and his charge away from the, thankfully, still unconscious Moon.

Gregory, of course, was not a fan of this and wanted nothing more than for the animatronic to rest and get fixed. So, after a moment of being left behind, the young boy moved to join the animatronic, dry lips parting in worry as he spoke.

“H-Hey, what’re you-”

Without warning, Freddy dropped to the ground.

Back scraping against the concrete walls and producing an ear splitting sound, his eyes went dim once more as his legs crumpled under him. He was still leaning on the wall, somehow, but it looked like he wouldn’t be moving anytime soon.

It almost looked like he was… like he was-

The young boy shot forward, racing to his guardian’s side. He tripped, stumbled, and nearly fell as he reached out to grab the animatronic’s shoulders. Forgoing his previous worries about accidentally hurting him, Gregory did his best to shake him awake.

“Freddy?!”

There was no response to his plea, and he could feel his breathing start to quicken as panic took over.

He wasn’t waking up, he wasn’t waking up-

“FREDDY-”

Without warning he was pulled towards Freddy’s chest, tugged into a hug. He couldn’t stop the surprised shout from escaping him, and the animatronic mumbled a faint apology before resting a hand atop his head, just as he had done before. With more care than Gregory could ever remember experiencing in his life, Freddy ruffled his hair.

“I should be… protecting you. Not the other way around. ” The animatronic sighed as his glowing eyes landed on the distressed boy in his arms. It seemed as though the static was gone for now thanks to Freddy no longer forcing himself to move.

Hopefully it would stay that way.

“That’s okay! I’m used to that kind of stuff!” Gregory objected while vigorously shaking his head. “I can handle it-”

“But you shouldn’t have to.”

Those words spoken with such conviction, the statement that Freddy had made, left the young boy speechless. Having to be independent, having to stand up for himself, these were things that Gregory had assumed were just a part of life. That he would always have to do things on his own, that he wouldn’t get help.

His parents had always told him to take care of himself, from making his own food to getting dressed and cleaning himself up.

His supposed guardians had always scolded him when he got pushed around and bullied, telling him that wouldn’t get involved and it was his responsibility.

His teachers, the few times he had really attended class and paid attention to them, always told him to be nice and make friends, that he needed to be more mature and forgiving.

No one had ever truly been there for him, everyone had just brushed him aside and treated him like a burden. Like he had already failed at life.

But, Freddy…

The choked sob that burst out of Gregory was only the first of many as he finally broke down. All the stress he had felt throughout the night, his constant fleeing for his life, the insults and threats directed his way from the other animatronics-

The terror he had felt when he almost lost Freddy.

It was too much.

Openly bawling now, Gregory hid his face in Freddy’s chest as he cried. A noise of concern left the animatronic as he did his best to hold the child, his child, as best he could and provide the comfort he had lacked for so long.

Freddy was optimistic, but he was nowhere near as naïve as most assumed he was. He had seen the signs and recognized the implications. From the somewhat dirty, torn clothes, to Gregory’s underdeveloped frame and how distrustful he had been of everyone, even Freddy, the signs were clear. Alarms and warnings danced across his vision, the demand that he report signs of abuse and neglect to the nearest Pizzaplex employee.

It only made him want to protect the boy more.

So, he held Gregory close and did his best to rock him back and forth, humming a lullaby. Some of these things were instinctual, he had been programmed to protect and help children, but others he had picked up throughout the night.

Learning and listening, seeing how the young boy reacted to gestures and words. How Gregory always preferred to be the one initiating a hug rather than being pulled into it, the cringing and immediate attempts to escape. How he liked to be called superstar rather than dear as Chica occasionally did as she hunted the boy down.

He cared for Gregory not because he had been designed to, but because he wanted to.

It was why he had pushed Gregory to run ahead of himself as Moon climbed up the elevator platform and closed in on them. Why he had been so willing to sacrifice himself and get dragged off somewhere if it meant that Gregory would be safe.

Of course, Freddy had never expected the young boy to snap, flee the safety of the charging station and fight on his behalf.

His so very, very brave superstar.

The duo stayed like this for some time, Gregory taking in all the comfort and reassurance he could while Freddy reminisced over everything that had happened so far. After his tears had long since dried, making his face feel weirdly scratchy, the young boy finally backed up. He took a deep breath in, let it out, and looked up at his guardian.

He had been thinking while he had been crying, ever the multitasker, and he hoped Freddy was at least willing to consider his idea.

Please… please…

“How… how about instead of you just protecting me, or me protecting you, we protect each other?” Gregory suggested, watching as those faintly glowing eyes met his own.

It was always hard to read his expressions, but he swore that Freddy’s eyes somehow widened in surprise. Surprise that soon faded and turned into something else, something that he couldn’t identify. Panicking a bit, Gregory backed up and started shaking his head.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay-”

“I would be honored,” Freddy began, reaching out gently brushing away the hair that fell into Gregory’s face. “To have someone as strong as you protecting me, superstar.”

That was almost enough to make the young boy start crying again. He scrubbed at his face to chase away the tears before they showed, and smiled at his guardian. No words were exchanged, Gregory’s expression of joy and gratefulness being enough.

But they could stay like this for long. Freddy still needed to be repaired, Moon might reactivate at any moment, and time was ticking away.

So, with great reluctance, the duo got ready to move.

“Parts and Service is not too far away.” Freddy said as he slowly started to stand up once again, still using the wall as a source of support. “I can be repaired there, although I might need your help. However, you will need to be careful as I might not… act like my normal self. Follow the instructions closely, please.”

“I will, don’t worry.” The young boy reassured the animatronic. However, as all fell silent between them, he couldn’t stop himself from impulsively holding a hand out for Freddy to take.

Embarrassing.

Any sense of embarrassment vanished the second Freddy reached out and completed the gesture, carefully taking hold of his charge’s hand. Confidence and comfort filled him, as did a sense of peace.

Freddy was here, he was alright, and once they got to Parts and Service all would turn out fine.

Now hand in hand with his guardian, Gregory smiled.

“Let’s go!”

                                        xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Mmm, yes, ending off with some found family goodness. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed reading!

- ImmortalCoelacanth

[hobbitsnapes]

YOU GUYS ARE DATING

Corpse x MGK!sister reader

(Found this image on Pinterest so all credit goes to artist, if you know who it is please comment below so I can credit them)

A/N: this was requested by @heyitssab

Tree is tall of sex in this, but it’s more in a joking matter, plus corpse has stated he doesn’t mind as long as you are not a minor or send or tag him. I’m literally 2 years younger than him, and have no intentions of ever tagging him or sending him any of my work XD

Summary: how many idiots does it take to tell the brother and friend they’re dating? Apparently takes 2 very forgetful people, who kept their relationship secret without knowing it.

It had just been by chance, a small chance that he had been scrolling through his tags. liking and reposting art, when he saw a tag from someone he followed. He wrecked his brain for when he had followed her, coming up empty. She was cute, no denying the beauty she had as she laughed in the video. It was a clip from a stream that he didn’t know she had, as he couldn’t even remember her name, wearing his merch as it fit her snug. It fit her perfectly in fact, the large hood covering her face, hiding the flush to her face from her rather large chuckles that left her body. He couldn’t help but like the photo, and he couldn’t help but to press message either.

It was first only small likes to posts, an Occasional message, and a view on their livestreams, but that all changed when he spoke of the song he was working on with her older brother.

It all started that night, when both lay in their beds as they talked, laughed, and felt their hearts flutter each time they heard one another speak.

Her phone rang violently in her bag, nearly making her drop the to go bag all over the ground as she walked. “Hello?” She asked, as she held both bags with her hands as her shoulder gripped the phone as if it’d fall down a cliff. “Hey bug!” He exclaimed, making her chuckle as she heard the booming sound of his voice. She had always detested the nickname, as he gave it to her as kids due to her horrendous fear of the creatures. But, it brought more joy to her, as it reminded her of their youth. Having been adults for years, it was fun to hear such a childish name that’s stuck.

“Hey mopey.” She chuckled, as that was the name she gave him when he was in his emo phase that he never outgrew.

Both talked as she walked towards the elevator, mainly about how his day had gone as she silently listened.

She had always been this way, always the shyer of the two, the one to listen to others first before she said a word. He had teased her for it most of their childhood and teen life, but he had grown to love it, as he could let loose or rant to her about anything, and he knew she’d be there just to listen to him.

“So what’re you doing right now?” He asked, as she got into the elevator. “Just grabbed some dinner a few minutes before you called and nearly made me shit.” A smile painted on her face at his boisterous laughter.

“Are you at home?” He asked, as he heard the sound of the elevator beeping in the background. “No, I’m spending the night with my boyfriend.”

She had mentioned about a month prior that she was seeing someone, the joy it brought him to hear the excitement and joy in her tone as she gushed about their first date.

If this was 7 or 8 years prior, he would be bombarding her with questions about the man, who he was, where he lived, where he could meet him to find his intentions with his baby sister. But, in the last few years, he found himself feeling calmer whenever she’d mentioned her love life. He knew she was smart, and would never date a man who treated her poorly. The few breakups she had, they always ended amicably, her head still high as she told him. So, he never asked her any questions about the man, as he could tell from the few times she mentioned him, he could feel the love this man had for her, and Vice versa.

The strong barreling of her phone alerted them awake, both groaning out as she reached for her phone without lifting her head from his shoulder. “Hello?” She mumbled, voice slurred as the saliva was thick in her mouth, barely awake as she fought to listen in on who dares to wake them up.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, making her equally exhausted lover groan. She shifted off of him, laying on her back as he turned away from her, as to hopefully shut his eyes and fall back asleep. She was used to her brother's large voice, as it hardly phased her after growing up with him. “Colson, why are you calling me this ungodly hour?” “Oh come on, it’s not that early.” “Col its-“ She pulled her phone from her ear, eyes shutting violently as the bright light blinded her “5 o’clock in the morning. So again, I’m going to ask you, why did you call me at the asscrack of dawn?” “You don’t remember?” He asked, making her irritation grow. “No, that’s why I’m asking.” She says, as she rubbed her sleep crusted eyes. “You were coming up today to hang out with casie, remember?” Her hand stopped rubbing her face, as she felt her heart stop momentarily. “Wait, you mean today? I thought I was coming Friday?” “No, both of you settled on today, remember I told you that’s perfect because I have a day off?” She felt her heart pain as she heard the sadness in his tone, knowing he’s expecting her to bail. “Yeah sorry, I thought you meant Friday so I mixed it up, let me get ready and I’ll be out the door okay? Love you” she said, as she hung up the line.

Before she could even move, she felt his arm wrap around her body. A tired groan leaving his lips. “Nooo stayyyy.” He groaned, pulling her body to his. She smiled as she looked down at him, wrapping her arm on his chest and the other behind his neck. “I wish I could live, but I can’t.” Planting a soft kiss against his lips. “Stay in bed for a few more hours, please?” Her heart pulled at his tone, hearing just how tired he was. “I can’t, casies wanted me to come up for weeks now. And it takes a good 3 hours to get there. I wanna spend as much time as I can with them before it gets dark so I can get back safely.” He groaned at this, wrapping his arms around her. “Yeah but it’s only 5, it wouldn’t be safe to drive since we went to bed like, 2 hours ago.” “Yeah, and whos fault was that mister?” She teased, “hmm, sorry but I just couldn’t keep my hands to myself after not seeing you for a few days.” He mused, pulling her body closer to his, planting his lips against hers. A small hum left her lips as he pulled her thigh over his, grabbing the flesh harshly as their lips cascaded together. “Mm, no no no, you’re not gonna convince me to stay here just to go another round.” She said, as she got off from his warm body, throwing his large hoodie over her bare body. “Oh come on babe, are you sure about that?” He said, making her turn around to him. A small gasp left her lips as her eyes took in his milky white complexion. His honey brown eyes looking back at her with a small smile etched onto his face. His hair a tousled mess that resembled a bird's nest, some pieces falling onto his face. “Honey, I’ve been wanting to see my family for weeks now, I see you almost everyday and practically live here. I’ll be back tomorrow so I can grab more clothes from my place okay?” She placed a kiss to his lips, both holding one another in their arms. “I don’t know why you don’t just say fuck that place and just move in.” He mumbled, making her chuckle and heart warm. “Don't you think it’s a little soon though? I mean we’ve only been together a few months love.” “Yeah, but you’ve practically lived here since we got together, you literally just go there to get more clothes that you end up leaving here.” She looked into his eyes as she thought about his words. “Hm, I’ll think about it today okay?” She mused, planting a kiss to his lips. A soft okay leaving him as she got up.

“And babe, remember if you live here, we can have all the sex we want and not have to worry about driving to get one another.” He exclaimed, laughing at the loud honey she screamed from the bathroom.

She couldn’t help but laugh out as she watched, as her niece tried her hardest to braid her fathers grown out hair. It was near impossible not to, as pieces would fall out, resulting in her pulling them harsher, nearly pulling his eyelids back due to the tension from his temples. “Okay okay you’re gonna fuckin scalp me.” He chuckled , as all three bursted out in large laughter.

“So how’s school going this year?” She asked her, as she delicately painted her nails. Both of the girls had found themselves on the floor in front of the nice coffee table, as colson sat and chatted with them. “It’s going really well.” “Oh yeah? Make any new friends?” She teased. “I mean, kinda.” She couldn’t help but hear the wavering in her tone, spotting the faint blush dusting her skin. “Ohh, so there’s a someone eh?” She teased to her, making the preteen hide her face as to conceal the flush. “His names Garrett, and we both take social studies together. He always sits next to me at lunch, and we’ll draw on my notebook.” She gushed, making her smile. “Soo, do you think he likes you?” “I mean, that’s what everyone keeps saying.” “Yeah well don’t worry about it to much cas, you’re not dating anyone for many more years. You’re still a kid.” Her das said, making the young girls face fall.

Y/N knew he was only saying this to protect her, as he said the same thing to her growing up. “Hey, don’t be bummed out about it. He is right, you both are only 12 and should focus on school. But don’t worry, he’ll come around. He was just like that with me up until my current boyfriend.” She whispered, making the young girl chuckle.

“Speaking of which, how are you guys doing?” He asked, as she hadn’t mentioned hun to her in a while. He didn’t think it’d hurt to ask. “Great actually, we’re thinking of moving in together actually.” “That’s great! I’m really happy that y’all met.” “Yeah, I am too.” She hummed, a flush dusting her cheeks.

Both men laughed as they chatted on the phone, talking about anything that would come to mind. What was once only a collaboration for a song, turned into an amazing friendship that caused both of them to call at late hours just to shoot the shit.

A yawn left his lips, as he listened to colson ramble on about another song he was making. “Woah, you tired man?” Colson asked, shocked to hear the sound. “Yeah sorry, was up most of the night last night.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Were you feeling alright?” He asked, worry laced in his tone. He knew all about his friends illnesses, even once being on the other end of the phone during a bad spell one day.” “Oh yeah yeah yeah, was just, up with the misses last night.” He chuckled, a flush blooming on his cheeks. “Ohhh yeah? And how was it?” This shocked him, nearly feeling his heart stop. Like, does he usually know about his sisters sex life? He didn’t think much of it, as he knew just how close both were. “It was absolutely fucking amazing. Like I thought we’d be done for the night, fully tapped out but after like 5 minutes she’d be right back on me for another round.” He chuckled, his flush even worse than before. “Ayyyeee good for you corpse, glad to hear that puss is bussin.” He laughed at this, throwing his head back. “Yeah, it’s bussin bussin.”

Both men talk as they read from their phones, eyes wide in absolute awe of the love they received from the song. They had just dropped it a few days prior, not expecting the cry of joy from both fan bases.

He didn’t even look up from it when she walked in, until she bent down to plant a kiss to his forehead. “Sorry I had completely forgot about the tea I made you an hour ago, but I put it back on the stove to heat it up so if it’s twisting funky just tell me okay?” Before he could even thank her, both their heads whipped towards the loudness from the other line. “Y/N? Is that you? What in the hell are you doing there with corpse!” He didn’t sound angry, more shocked than anything, both of them looking at the phone in confusion. “I, I love here? Remember I told you like a month ago I was moving in with him?” “WHAT!” Both jumped at the loud scream. “Wait so you guys are dating!?” Both we’re even more perplexed, until it dawned on both of them. Their eyes wide as they turned their heads to one another slowly. “Wait you didn’t tell him?” “No? He’s one of your best friends so I thought you did!” “He’s your brother! So I thought you did!” Both whisper, until all three lay silent. That was until, the large cry of laughter that leaves the two, leaving colson even more confused. He wasn’t mad, not at all actually. More shocked and confused than anything. Until he started thinking, it does make sense, all the times they spoke about one another without him knowing, all the times they mentioned-“OH GOD!” He yelled, gagging violently, making them stop their laughing fit. “What's wrong? Why are you yelling?” She asks “like a month ago corpse was talking about how he was tired cause he was up all night having sex AND I HAD NO IDEA HE WAS TALKING ABOUT YOU! OH GOD WAS THAT WHY YOU WERE LIMPING THAT DAY WITH CAS AND I!” Both laugh even harder, as they listen to his ever growing gags.

“So yeah,. That’s literally how we had no idea we were keeping the relationship secret from her brother.” He laughed, as he red the comments and listened to his friends' laughter. She sat beside him, head laying on his shoulder as he told the story. She couldn’t help but to look back up into his eyes, as he glanced down at her, planting a soft kiss to her lips. “Keep it pg guys.” Colson said from the other line, making them chuckle.

[kiki-shortsnout]

Intimacy prompt 34 and 37 for IronStrange pleaze?.

Oh I think Have I Ever is my favorite work of yours in intimacy because there's no way those 2 will get together without being dramatic first haha XD

Hey! Thank you for the ask, and thank you for the compliment, I'm happy you're enjoying these prompts!

Whew! I'm making some progress on these prompts!

***

‘Do you regret it?’

Tony pulled up his sunglasses so he could give him the full effect of his unimpressed stare.

‘Am I supposed to pluck the context out of thin air, Strange? Regret what?’ he asked, flicking his sunglasses back into place, and sinking his feet further into the scorching sand. He heard the breath leaving the wizard’s lungs as he sat up on the blanket, the shift of bare skin across the fibers of it.

‘No, because you know exactly what I’m talking about.’

Groaning dramatically, Tony flung his arms out behind him to support his weight as he leant back, palms stinging from the heat of the sand, glorious, smoldering heat. He didn’t answer straight away, keeping his gaze locked on Morgan leaping through the frothy waves, Peter a few seconds behind her, just as excited.

‘No. No, I don’t regret it.’

His divorce with Pepper wasn’t something he liked to talk about, but their relationship was well past the point of idle chitchat. Hours wedged together on an alien spaceship would do that. They’d stared at death incarnate together, had given everything they could to stop Thanos, and that formed a connection between people, regardless of their backgrounds.

Magical or not.

Tony sat up, inching closer to the shade Stephen had refused to leave the whole time they’d been at Malibu, and taking a moment to eye up his milky white skin. The man looked like he could get sunburnt in the shade. Using magic to tilt the umbrella so Tony could share, Stephen scooped up the seashells Morgan had found earlier, gleaming treasure she had entrusted him with their safekeeping.

It made him smile, how seriously Stephen treated her, and it made an unusual sensation stir in his chest, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time, not since he’d first started dating Pepper.

‘I think she loved the idea of me, what I could be, what I would’ve been if not for Iron Man,’ Tony said suddenly, watching his kids screech as the Cloak chased after them, shaking water from its fabric, indicating it’d been dunked in saltwater.

‘I wanted to be that man for her, I really did, and she’s still one of the most important people to me, not because she’s the mother of my child, but because I love her. I always will, just not in the way she deserves.’

‘Tony, this wasn’t an excuse for you to start tearing your self-esteem into ribbons,’ Stephen scolded.

‘I’m not, I’m answering your question. I knew, we both knew as soon as I leapt aboard the alien doughnut that it was over. We tried to work past it, all of us left behind in the five years you guys were gone tried to cobble our lives back together, but it…’ Tony sighed, scooping up a handful of sand and gazing at the millions of sun-kissed gems, fragments that created a whole.

‘I get it, I suppose it’s hard to love a hero, it’s hard to understand…unless you’re one yourself.’

‘I don’t blame her for wanting me to give up Iron Man, I get it, I just…couldn’t. I tried, but as soon as you came to me about Thanos, I knew I had to go…I didn’t stop to think about how it might affect her, jumping on another suicide mission.’

Tony reached over Stephen’s ridiculously long legs to reach his can of lemonade he’d left there earlier, grimacing at the warmth of the liquid, but grateful for the way it soothed his dry throat.

‘What about you, asshole, you got a special lady?’ Tony asked, deflecting the conversation.

‘Nope, no special someone,’ Stephen stressed the last part, watching the kids in the water and inhaling deeply.

Now that Tony didn’t know. He should’ve really, after the flirty little wink he’d given when they’d first met, but Tony had chalked that up to the man showing off his impressive skills. Tony wasn’t arrogant enough that he couldn’t admit Stephen had an extraordinary repertoire of skills, and the man could fight…but he didn’t have to verbalize it.

Strange had a big enough head already.

‘You were right, this…this was needed,’ Stephen said, waving a hand at the beach, indicating the this. Tony was distracted by the tremble in his fingers, the slender scars across his fingers and the back of his hands, revealing the trauma, the pain he must have felt having pins in his bones.

He could understand that, the story scars left behind, the proof of their hubris.

‘Well, I promised you both, didn’t I? Once we got back to Earth and everyone was saved, we were going to have a holiday. No outer space travels, no insane alien overlords trying to destroy us. Just us, the sun, sea and warm lemonade,’ Tony held his up in a toast, grinning as Stephen grabbed his own can and clinked the side of it.

Morgan had stopped running in the sea and was now digging a hole in the sand with her bare hands, watching as the tide came in and filled it, trying to create a moat of sorts. Lifting her head, Tony watched the briny breeze tease her salt-crusted tangles away from her face. His love for her startled him at times, how he could love another being as much as this. He loved Peter too, the kid had been his driving force to discover the trick behind time travel, and he’d risked everything to bring him home.

Thinking about them both made other feelings surface too, black oozing things that he tried to suppress, negative feelings about why his own father couldn’t have felt the same, if one day he would treat Morgan and Peter with the same cold-hearted disregard.

‘Tony, hey douchebag, you alright?’

The sun overhead burnt his gaze gold as he lifted his eyes, leaving him dazed and blinking back tears.

‘Yeah, sorry, I’m good.’

‘You drifted away there…anything you want to talk about?’ Stephen asked, his tone careful, trying not to probe.

‘Nah, Doc, just my daddy issues rearing their ugly head again.’

Stephen looked at him then, his aquamarine eyes glowing from the sun’s reflection, and Tony felt like his gaze was burning back the layers he swathed himself in, piercing his body and reading his mind. He couldn’t explain it, but he’d always had the sense Stephen knew more than what he revealed, that he could see things in the fabric of the universe that Tony was blind to.

Fourteen million futures, each a glimpse of a possibility, how many more of them were out there? What else had Stephen seen?

‘Tony, you’re a wonderful parent,’ Stephen argued.

‘How would you know!’ He regretted the snap, knowing it was part of his self-defense mechanism, but Stephen didn’t know him that well yet to recognize it for what it was, and he opened his mouth to apologize when he suddenly found a trembling hand across his mouth.

‘Because I’ve watched you with them. I saw you with Peter on the ship, the sheer horror in your eyes when you thought you’d brought him to his death, I could literally hear your brain trying to think of a way to send him home. With Morgan, Tony, you worship the ground she walks on, you’re caring, attentive…’ Stephen trailed off, a slight redness to his cheeks as he let his hand fall.

Tony went to warn him that he was burning from the sun when he caught sight of Stephen’s gaze fixed on his lips. Feeling daunting, he let the tip of his tongue come out to wet his bottom lip, suppressing his laugh when he saw Stephen’s blush deepen, his gaze turning back towards the sea.

He could do one of two things here. Ignore what had just happened and go back to the carefree attitude they were enjoying at the beach, or address the issue and explore the possibilities of what it could mean for them. Despite how quickly his brain tended to work, the way it could create possible scenarios and see them through in order for him to select the best one, Tony found himself hesitating.

‘When you said it’s hard to love a hero…were you referring to yourself?’ Tony asked.

Stephen didn’t answer for a moment, his gaze now on the Cloak shielding the kids from the worst of the sunshine, its collar dipping down as it tried to examine the castle Peter was building beside Morgan’s moat.

‘It’s not hard to love you,’ Stephen answered, his words nearly lost in the breeze.

‘I’ll have you know it’s near impossible to love me,’ Tony joked, his mouth moving faster than his brain. ‘I’m a mess, I forget about people when I’m inventing, I’ll always put the safety of Earth before my partner-’

Stephen’s mouth on his made his ramblings stop, the touch of shaking fingers on his jaw felt like wind brushing over sunburnt skin, blistering and soothing in equal measure.

‘It’s because of those things that I like you,’ Stephen murmured against his lips. ‘It’s not the idea of you I love, Tony Stark, I know who you are. Fourteen million versions of you.’

Despite the surprise he felt at this revelation, the clench in his gut from the anticipation of what this could mean, Tony smiled against his lips, leaning closer.

‘Sorry I didn’t ask,’ Stephen whispered across his mouth. ‘Can I kiss you again, Tony?’ His free hand covered Tony’s on the sand as the other continued to sweep across his jawbone, down to his throat and back again.

‘I could be persuaded,’ Tony agreed with a laugh, pretending to fight off Stephen’s tongue invading his mouth, falling back to the ground dramatically. ‘Why, Doctor Strange, I didn’t know you had it in you!’ he mock gasped, wriggling away from Stephen’s lunge, and getting to his feet as he scrambled down to the water.

‘Prepare to eat seawater, Stark,’ Stephen growled from behind him, giving chase.

He’d never seen himself in this position five years ago, hadn’t been able to see past the frigid metal walls of the doughnut ship as he hurtled forward on his suicide mission, but he was glad events had led him here. Looking over his shoulder at Stephen’s skin gleaming in the light as he pelted after Tony on the beach, he screamed for Morgan to save him, cackling as she ordered the Cloak to stop the Sorcerer Supreme.

This wasn’t where he saw his life at all, divorced, a beautiful daughter, an all but adopted mutant child, a sentient Cloak and a potential wizard boyfriend, but he was happy.

For the first time in years, he could say with complete honesty that he was content with his life.

[chibiwritesstuff]

Could you do a headcanon for how the dorm leaders and their S/O would react if their kid(s) from the future magically appeared on campus?

I might have gone overboard with this... but at the same time, I feel like I rushed this. I’m so occupied by work that I have to slowly work on this from midnight to six am before heading to bed then go to work around 10 am for two weeks now... I hope it turned out the way you like it. Yes, the ones with unique magic is inspired with FGO’s Noble Phantasms... I’m still stuck in that hellhole of a gacha game. I think you can tell who my faves are by the length I’ve written for them XD

Now, let’s enter this twisted wonderland~

“Queen’s Rose Maze!” All five of the Heartslabyul main guys heard. “Traverse in the twisting maze of the Queen of Roses!”

All of them rushed towards the location of the voice only to see a tiny Riddle with (h/c) hair instead.

“What did I do?!” Heartslabyul A-kun whimpered as he seemed to be stuck in a rose maze.

“As stated by the Queen of Hearts’ Rule #186: Never eat hamburg steak on Tuesdays. You just broke a rule and you must be punished.” The kid scolded. “To think this is what my esteemed father deals with everyday…”

“By father, I assume that would be me?”

Surprisingly, Riddle seems to take this information in stride. The kid will turn around and his suspicions were confirmed.

The kid will run and hug him asking if he’s doing a good job. He introduces himself and everything Riddle asked, (s/n) answered perfectly.

Well, until you showed up that is.

“Mother!” He’ll call out in joy as he bounced towards you.

And there goes Riddle’s composure.

Oh great seven, you two have children?! Is his first thought followed by, We will get married, have children, and be together forever!

While initial surprise caught you off guard, you slowly accepted the fact that you and Riddle are now interacting with your future child.

When he can finally go back to his time his final words made both of you blush.

“Farewell, mother and father!” He’ll wave happily as he disappears. “I have to watch over the twins you two just have after all!”

Wanna try betting who’s redder? (It’s Riddle)

Someone – more like two – that is not him or you is on his bed.

Who dares occupy my bed?!

The little girl stirred from her sleep and upon making eye contact with you two she’ll screech in joy.

“(s/n)! Wake up! Mom and Dad are here!”

Both of you flinched both from the high pitch voice and the statement she just made.

The young boy will wake up as well and greets you two in a much calmer way.

They’ll tell you that someone’s unique magic transported a bunch of kids to the past and now they’re here.

Slowly but surely, you both can tell that (d/n) is a daddy’s girl and (s/n) is a mommy’s boy.

You all decided to take a siesta together, with the children in between.

When you both stirred in your sleep, the kids are gone. There’s a note stuck on Leona’s chest saying that they have to return to their time and they enjoy the siesta as always.

“Can’t wait to have you two soon.” Leona will mutter as he pulled you to him before going back to sleep.

A girl is crying in the lounge and it's disturbing the customers causing a bunch of complaints, forcing the twins to abandon current tasks to find the girl.

As soon as the girl spotted the twins, she grabs on them. “Uncle Jade, where’s daddy?”

Oh, Jade and Floyd are gonna have a field day with this. They kept questioning the poor girl about everything about her time to the point of scaring her.

“Aw, what a cute girl.” You’ll end up cooing.

“Mommy!” Tears are forming in her eyes as she hugs your legs tightly. “Mommy, I’m scared.”

“(y/n), I wasn’t aware you have a child…” You hear Azul trail off at the news.

He’s crestfallen on the fact that you have a child already. He will start doubting himself, thinking, of course, your relationship wouldn’t last, he’s not good enough, that he didn’t realize the kid is running towards him.

“Daddy! Uncle Jade and Uncle Floyd are scaring me again!”

“D-Daddy?!” He’s so taken aback he fell on his bum.

Jade and Floyd are laughing at his reaction while you just stared back and forth towards the child and Azul.

Ironically this is the time one of Azul’s customers decided to eat and run. Just as he asked the twins to deal with it the kid waved her magical pen.

“Everlasting Summer Spree!” And the guy is now over buying almost everything in the lounge. “Splurge in the joys of summer and shop to the fullest!”

Azul is so proud and started babying her with the very money she earned from one customer alone.

When it's time for her to leave he’s crying… which made her cry as well.

Looks like I’m going to be stuck with crybabies… is the only thing you thought of as you smile.

“Papa!” Echoed in the middle of the party that Kalim assembled.

When a young boy tackled him, Jamil was ready to grab the said kid until he noticed their features, and boy did he paled up upon the sudden realization.

“Oya, do I remind you of your papa?” Kalim smiled and hugged the kid. “That’s flattering, kiddo!”

“Uh, Kalim you might want to take a real good look on that kid,” Jamil said as he readied to call you on his phone.

When you arrived at the Scarabia dorm, you see Kalim pampering a young boy that has your eyes and complexion. A table full of food, toys, and jewelry scattered around to make the kid happy.

“Mama!” The boy called out to you while your brain is trying to process everything.

“Isn't (s/n) so cute! He’s really smart too!” Your lover kept on praising the kid as he played with Jamil, who looks like he wants to disappear.

Your mom mode instincts kicked in and scolded the two for overdoing things.

They kept saying sorry as Jamil finally got out of the predicament.

When the kid can finally return to their original timeline, he’ll give one last hug to the entire Scarabia dorm’s students before leaving.

“I’m so excited!” Kalim will tell you with a blinding smile. “Arent you excited as well?”

Vil was looking for Rook when he saw the said man playing with a little blonde girl. The archer noticed his presence so he beckoned the girl to come with him.

“Roi de Poison looks like your beauty runs in the family.”

The little girl did a curtsy as she greeted him. “Greetings, father. I’m (d/n), your daughter from the future.”

He’s amused, seeing as the girl acts gracefully by greeting alone. After doing his usual 5-second head to toe judgment, he nods and beckons her to follow to Pomefiore for a spa day.

No surprise but as they walk the premises of the campus, lots of stares and gossip started spreading.

Before either Vil or Rook can do anything, she once again spoke. “Father, may I ask for permission to use my unique magic?”

This piqued his interest, “Very well, show me what you got.”

“Smile of the Princess~” With an elegant smile flashed to everyone, “Hark, for the fairest’s daughter has graced you her smile~”

You just happened to walk by when you saw the commotion. Color yourself surprised when you saw a girl with Vil’s beauty and grace but with your eyes and preference of hairstyle cast her magic.

You might not have magic but you are quite good at noticing the quirks of everyone’s unique magic. A smile crept on your lips as you realized what her magic really does and who she might be.

They all got enamored with her and waited for her command. “Do get lost and focus on your duties, you pitiful potatoes.”

“As you wish, princess.” Everybody affected by her magic responded and went on their merry way.

“Oh my, so your magic is similar to Monsieur Multi.” Rook happily commented after the display.

“That’s incorrect.” (y/n) responded, already figuring out the true nature of her magic. “Smile of the Princess merely makes her target pay their fullest attention to her. It's her charisma that made them follow her orders.”

“So you noticed as well,” Vil confirmed which you happily nodded.

“Greetings, mother.” She curtsied and introduced herself once more. “We’re currently heading to father’s dormitory to treat our skin. Would you like to join us?”

Ah, so your hunch was right…

“She is going whether she likes it or not,” Vil answered for you as he smirked at your flushed face. “We do need a family bonding after all, don’t we, my dear sweet potato?”

“Yeah… what he said.” You sweatdropped as you unwillingly got dragged to their spa day. “Are we seriously ignoring the fact that she just said we’re her parents?”

“Are you opposed to having children with me?” He raised an eyebrow before facing your kid. “How many siblings do you have?”

“My older brother remains in my timeline with his acting job, father.”

You all end up doing the said spa day and enjoyed getting to know your daughter. You can't help but sigh in relief when she told you that she choose following Vil’s lifestyle of her own will rather than being forced to.

When she has to leave, rather than curtsying, she went and hug both of you instead.

“I know father’s at work and barely spend time with you but please don’t leave him…” She looks away with a sad smile. “He doesn’t mean to make you lonely.”

Against Vil’s protests, you grabbed his hand and raised it with a huge smile. “I promise I won’t let him go until he tells me to.”

Cue to Vil blushing, Rook laughing, and (d/n) smiling as she waves goodbye.

“You better keep that promise, you stupid sweet potato…” Vil mutters under his breath with a small smile.

The one rare time he leaves his room is when he visits you or he’s out to get his pre-orders. Today’s reason is visiting you.

He hears giggling from his brother and what sounds to be another child. He’s so curious if Ortho made a new friend that he didn’t even process the fact that there’s another person in your dorm.

“Big brother! Your son is here!” Ortho happily announced as he pointed at the giggling boy on your lap.

“AAAHHHH!!!!” Idia.exe has crashed. Please restart your system to continue.

“Ahaha, dad is still so jumpy as always.” (s/n) stood up and walked towards him. “Hi, dad! I’m (s/n), your son from the future.”

He’s the main suspect from all these time-traveling shenanigans. Creating a time machine wanting to meet you two which led to all the children wanting to go as well.

He explains the mechanics of the time machine along with its timer-based setting to return them to their timeline with no fail.

Idia is now just so invested in how this creation works that he sat down on the couch with his holographic computer typing notes and giving his ideas to the kid.

You’re just happy that Idia is finally interacting with someone else even if it's his son.

Truth be told when he randomly showed up in your dorm, (s/n) geeked out so much on how he unlocked the secret episode on his life story. He immediately bombarding you with questions about your current relationship with Idia.

It was overwhelming… thank god for Ortho’s random visits that you managed to calm the kid down.

In the end you four played video games – constantly yelling hacks when someone else wins – and had a great time.

When the timer started beeping, he gave you three a hug. “I love you guys! Please don’t forget the parent-teacher meeting tomorrow, Dad.”

“I believe that something you should say to future us…” You sweatdropped as Idia held back a nervous laugh.

“I-I’ll try.”

Le gasp from all three of you.

When (s/n) disappeared, Ortho starts chattering on how he can’t wait to be an uncle. Leaving so he can make lots of detailed plans for the future hangouts he’ll have with your son.

“(y/n),” He caught your attention as his face and hair slowly turns to fiery red. “I may be the biggest introvert in the world but I promise I’ll do anything that I can to make you happy.”

“Huh, I guess this is how Hades wooed Persephone to marry him…” You smirked as he covered his face to muffle his screaming. “Should we start planning for our wedding now?”

You two were having a peaceful picnic by the school grounds when a young boy appeared on top of the tree. He lost his balance though and leave it to Malleus’ fast reflexes to catch the boy with no sweat.

“Thank you, father.” The boy with a striking resemblance of your lover spoke as he regained his footing. “This isn’t how I planned to meet you two…”

“Father?” You two both asked.

“Okay, I’m aware that you are god knows how old but I wasn’t aware you have a child?” You can't help but look back and forth between the two boys.

“Neither do I.” He calmly answers, confusion evident on his face. “I haven’t bed anyone in my whole life.”

“My apologies! I’m (s/n) Draconia, your fifth son from the future.”

Cue to you doing a spit-take. “Fifth?!”

Malleus is just beaming in joy from this news, he does love a big family. Oh, he can't wait for the future to come, get married to you and have children… five children!

“There’s eight of us, actually…” He whispered but you both heard it anyways.

Spit-take part two with a bonus of your face being redder than any tomato in existence and Malleus just vibrating in happiness. “EIGHT?!”

He goes on and telling their names and current accomplishments, all to how the youngest sister is about to be born in a few months.

“So, I guess that actually makes it nine.” (s/n) corrects himself one last time.

You passed out while mumbling “Nine… nine kids…”

As much as Malleus wants to keep talking, he chose to care for you first, chuckling at how you passed out from said information.

He brings you and his kid to his room to make sure you have a better mattress to lay on. The two Draconia’s will keep talking about how the future of the family works.

Oh, imagine the horror on his face when tend to always be at doors death every delivery time. Now he knows that it's quite common for humans to die when giving birth.  He second-guesses the idea of having so many children if your life is at stake.

(s/n) have to remind him that they all live, so everything's fine.

After that reassurance, you stirred awake and saw the kid once more. He now wants to snuggle with you on the bed, which Malleus followed suit.

“Mother, please sing me that lullaby again.” He yawns as the older fae encases you two in a hug. “We all love your song…”

You can’t help but smile seeing how adorable your son is being that you hummed the first lullaby your mother has sung to you in your younger days.

You two noticed he’s fading, assuming that he is going back to his timeline once again.

You both placed a kiss on his forehead, saying “We love you, (s/n).”

Malleus chuckles and pulls you close as he peppers your head with kisses. He’s so excited for the future that he’ll share with you and you can't help but feel the same way.

“So… who’s going back to clean up the mess we left at the school grounds?”

[toujoursmiraculous]

Thoughts and Reaction to Lies!

It's another long one because so much happens in this episode! The episode starts with Marinette trying to figure out a "secret" within the grimoire. Literal first thought was that this "secret" may be the key to waking up Emilie. It's obviously going to be of huge significance later, anyway. By looking at that piece on Adrien, it does appear Adrien has an amazing life. And really, that's what a lot of people think. That's the point of featuring him. A life of a celebrity is pretty amazing, really interesting and fascinating. But it's also filled with a lot of stress, chaos, loneliness, etc. But viewers rarely ever see it. As for Marinette, while Adrien has said things about what his father allows that makes him sad, we haven't ever heard him complain to her in any way about that lifestyle. To her, he's a guy whose father has him busy with activities (interesting ones at that) and very rarely ever lets him spend time with friends. I love how this episode parallels Truth! But Adrien's POV. My boy has an episode centered around him, finally!

So we know her standing Chat Noir up is because Luka came by reminding her of a date she forgot she rescheduled. You know she's extremely distracted and stressed when she can't remember a date with Luka or a patrol with Chat Noir, or remember that she planned them at the same time. It's really not her fault, and I feel so bad for her that things are becoming so difficult. "No messages, but don't forget my cheese!" LOL this is perfect. Plagg has to get that reminder in wherever he can! The Chat Noir appreciation was so wholesome to see awww, I bet so many boys in Paris look up to him, so sweet x33 Mr. Banana, Chat Noir, and the man who frequently is Mr. Pigeon just chilling on a bench in the park together. What a scene! lol But Chat wanting them to be akumatized so he could see Ladybug. Big oof. He's going to get his wish, a few times over. Careful what you wish for, Kitty! "A glass of milk as usual, mister Chat Noir?" Okay so when Chat's down, he goes to that bar and has a glass of milk. Or more if he's having a bad day. Awwwww. If you think about it, Adrien probably isn't allowed to have milk. With the fat content and all. :/ Kagami lying to her mother and Nathalie/Gabriel just to spend some time with Adrien. Considering how difficult their lives are, that's pretty impressive to be so brave. Not too fond of the lying part though, since there's not a noble reason for doing so. But I can understand it. We found out Kagami's real passion: drawing! Which is pretty cool. That's one thing Kagami and Marinette have in common that'd make them good friends. Very sad how her blind mother tells her she's not good enough. That just tells you what she thinks of her daughter and what she wants her to do with her life. She's afraid she'll pursue the arts rather than something practical, so best shoot down any thoughts of being an artist now. And then, like with all episodes that have Kagami in them, this is where I start to dislike her. "I want to draw the real you, on the inside." Adrien makes various model poses, none work for her as she knows they're just him being a model. Then he actually poses as himself. A silly, goofy cat having fun and being happy. Adorable. "What do you think of... CAT?" deathglare "No, this is absolutely not natural." "Yes it is. I promise, this is really me!" "NO! This is you when you're acting like a clown!" Adrien looking hurt, "But maybe when I act like a clown, it's really me." Then she takes his hand, (gently) pushes him back up against the wall, her hands on his chest, "That way, that's who you really are." What way? Her telling him how to be is who he really is? He stammers, looking very uncomfortable. "But are you sure?" "Yes... you are perfect." Then she leans in to kiss him, while he's still looking uncomfortable. Right here, she's trying to tell him who he is. What kind of relationship is healthy and a good one one at that, when one side is trying to tell the other who they are, how they must act, etc? That's toxic. Keep in mind, after this scene, during Truth's attack. He found out that Ladybug actually in fact loves (said she prefers) the humorous, "clown" side of him. Yes, she only knows it as Chat Noir for now, but she actually appreciates and loves Chat for who he is. Kagami doesn't love nor appreciate that side of Adrien. Which is a very big and important side of him. We knew this in Ikari Gozen, she couldn't stand the thought of Chat Noir being compared to Adrien, pretty sure she even seemed offended by it if memory serves. But it's laid out more in Lies, it's more direct. (Marinette's done this too in the past, but when she's done it, her tone's more like pssssh please! while she looks off to the side, like she's mostly just telling herself that, to convince herself, rather than believing it.) Kagami thinks she knows Adrien, knows that him being funny and a clown is not the "real" him. Acting like she knows him better than he knows himself. Thinking he's perfect. That was a very hurtful thing to have said and you can see it in his expression the same kind of pain and hurt

he gets a lot. I also want to talk about how watching her back Adrien up against the wall like that and leaning into kiss him made me feel particularly uncomfortable. While they might have a little thing going on, he was clearly not comfortable by it and it just did not sit well with me. This entire scene was riddled with red flags. Adrien smiled at the end of that on his way out, yes, but having someone tell you you're perfect would seem like a compliment to you, wouldn't it? The one you like thinks you're perfect, thinks the facade you put up is perfect and anything less isn't okay with them. That'll end up so well! The almost kissing scenes this episode literally had me like

I'm sorry, I just feel so very uncomfortable by them, I can't help it. xD Just before Chat Noir sneaked up on Ladybug, he almost kissed Kagami right? And yet here he is, being a bit flirty, saying he's missed her on patrols. I also want to point out she tells him to stop with his stupid jokes, because she doesn't want to accidentally hurt him! She could've hurt him by scaring her like that. While she likes his humor, they're only problematic if it puts himself in danger or distracts them from fighting an akuma. "I promise I won't forget our patrols anymore." The looks that passed between LB and CN here is just so cute! OOOF as Luka walks away sad because Marinette had to run off, here comes Adrien, about to do the exact same thing as Marinette to Kagami... Now Kagami's not as accepting of him running off as she was just a little while ago.

Even Andre's like, what the heck was that?! His expression watching Adrien run off made me laugh, I had to share it. I was wondering how Adrien got to the boathouse before Marinette did, as it made it seem like Adrien was there long before Marinette was. He just ran in and started playing along where they were. Good lord, he has a lot going on too, doesn't he? Only difference from Marinette here is Adrien has a built-in and believable excuse he can tell his friends. Kagami's forceful "Adrien, it's time." "Five little minutes?" *shakes head sternly* Who does this remind you of in Adrien's life already? Is this what a good girlfriend, what a good friend would do? And here again is the pattern we see a lot with Kagami. She manipulates situations so that they can spend time together. Adrien wants to spend time with his friends AND girlfriend at the same time. Rehearsing for their band, it looks like. He rarely ever gets to spend time with others, be a normal kid. But no, she drags him away early, making it sound like they had to leave, but it's just her wanting him to herself. When he couldn't go to New York, oh well that's unfortunate you're sad, but we can spend more time together now, isn't that great? It's about what she wants, not what he wants or what's best for Adrien. She spends more time with Adrien (not counting Ladybug spending time with Chat Noir here) than anyone else does by the looks of it, and she doesn't even know him at all. It's really sad. Adrien still carrying around Marinette's lucky charm bracelet in his pocket x3333 This never fails to make me happy. But oof that boy's seriously going to lose it one of these days if he's not careful! There's something different about seeing the Ladynoir scene on the roof that we got in Truth, but from Adrien's perspective. Something about it feels like it means more to me, idk. Adrien gets caught in a lie, saying he lost something but found it. Kagami asked what it was, holding Marinette's lucky charm behind her back. He says it was the lucky charm Marinette gave her, as he's scrambling in his pocket to pull it out seeming a bit frazzled, but realizes he actually in fact lost it (again! he says). But Kagami caught him in that lie, showing him that she actually had it.

I'm not sure if he's so shocked because she actually had it and wonders how she got it, or if he looks like that because he just got caught in a lie. But the way his eyebrows raised a little makes it seem like he's surprised she had it after all and was testing him the whole time. I've always hated the way sometimes someone when in a relationship will test the other one like this. Really not fair in Adrien's case at all. Things aren't always as they may seem. And here's the thing, she's admitting to him that she's lying just to be with him. She lies all the time. Adrien caught on that she was lying, but didn't really understand why I don't think. Earlier in the episode he says, "What are you hiding, Kagami?" he didn't know her purpose for it. Now she says, "We're both liars, the difference is I lie to be with you. You. You lie to get away from me." Which is a yes but actually no situation. It's not that he doesn't want to be with her, it's that he needs to get away temporarily. It just looks really, really bad. Getting off track from that conversation briefly, but that scene where the akuma goes off into the night, with the blurred city lights that becomes clear. Just wow. That shot is beautiful, I can't help myself from playing it back and admiring it. I'm also totally digging the new transformation music! it gives me 90s vibes and makes me happy. Seeing Jagged after Truth is just completely different xD "I fear nothing, I am an artist! I still hold to my fans." Both Roth: "Wrong, you lie to them about your age!" "That's not Rock and Roll!" Had me rolling!! Jagged sure is something XD Chat just up and about to cataclysm the sphere, thinking he'd be okay because he doesn't lie. Except he lies all the time to protect his identity and get himself away from people so he can transform. xD Silly Kitty. The drone as a Lucky Charm is super cool! In Truth, Chat Noir said a truth about how he felt about Ladybug. In Lies, he tells lies to Lies to get her attention. "My name's not Chat Noir! I'm not a superhero! I hate Ladybug! And I think Hawk Moth should've called himself Panfly! It's funnier! Oh, I was about to forget: my favorite dish is cabbage with white sauce! Yummy!" Cabbage...with white sauce... as a dish. Is this like, a real fancy dish or something or is this boy being completely starved? o.o CN: "There are only two more liars left in Paris, and one of them knows how to turn his attention." LB: "No, wait! Don't do that! What if I'm mistaken?" "You know what? I trust you." he lets go, sacrificing himself again "Chat Noir, no! Don't do that! You're crazy!" "Yes, crazy for you, m'lady." Says softly, sadly, "No, you're just crazy unconscious." This ENTIRE scene right here. The love, the trust, the pain in this scene. It's so beautiful and well done that I can't stop getting emotional from it and gushing! Everything's on the line from that decision, and the trust he has for her, the faith he has in her really helps her know she can do what she needs to do. She's always doubting herself, and he's always there to say he doesn't feel that way at all, and it gives her that confidence and courage she needs. The moment Chat Noir is okay, the first thing Ladybug does is run up and smack him, grabbing him anxiously saying "Seriously, you need to stop doing this to me!" The girl is stressed seeing her partner sacrifice himself time and again! IF THIS BOY DOESN'T REALIZE JUST HOW MUCH SHE CARES ABOUT HIM AT THIS POINT, I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY. Any fan that still thinks Ladybug doesn't love Chat Noir and thinks poorly of him, clearly does not understand it at all. My Ladynoir heart is SO HAPPY! I was thrilled with them in Truth, but this is a totally different level. I'm almost in tears with how happy I am. And then I noticed something. I don't know if it's anything or not. But Chat Noir says to her, "Yes, but it's because I find that angry look of yours irresistable." and Kagami turns around to look at him, only him and never Ladybug. Just watching him. Which is a bit... odd. "Ahh, Ladybug..." he sighs. After what

just happened, I don't blame him! x3 These two are honestly fire. When D'Argencort has to step in to keep Kagami from hurting Adrien during fencing... Doesn't matter how upset she is, that's gross to physically take it out on him to the point a teacher has to intervene. Kagami tells Adrien she knows he's hiding something, but that he's sincere, too. But when he asks if they can't be friends then, she responds, "How can you trust someone who lied to you?" and finally gives him back the lucky charm. Ever since Gorizilla, I've been worrying of him losing it for good! Glad she gave it back to him. I've said it already, but he's really going to lose that thing if he's not careful! "When I'm ready to see you again, I'll let you know." and she just leaves. I get she's upset, he's been lying to her to get away when he's with her and all that. But this is worse than what happened with Lukanette. Luka wanted to actually know what was going on, he asked Marinette about it directly. She told him honestly, it's the one thing she can't tell him. Kagami on the other hand never actually asked. During one of the scenes when he was spacing out, she asked what was the matter is all. All she's cared about is that he's lied, and now that he's lied she can't trust him. Doesn't even want to hear him out, not that he'd explain it to her. Kagami doesn't even want to see Adrien for awhile now. At least Luka's more understanding and isn't as harsh being in the exact same situation. This poor boy... But it's also for the best. Marinette and Adrien both after breaking up with Luka and Kagami, decided to transform and meet up to just be in each other's company. They're both sad, but not especially so. "Do you know what the difference is, between us and the rest of the world, m'lady? We can't be completely honest with each other. We have our secrets, and sometimes we have to lie." Ladybug frowning hums in agreement. But at the same time, they both turn to each other and say happily "But we know we can trust each other!" finishing with a pound-it! IT'S JUST SO BEAUTIFUL AND MY HEART IS HAPPY After Truth, where Luka and Marinette were so sad and having a hard time, I really needed such an episode with such good Ladynoir! It really looks like the story is going in a really good direction, in my opinion. x3

[cowboy-anon]

Weston’s Wild West Whump - 2

I DID IT! I FINISHED IT. Holy cow. XD Anyway, it’s a bit of a longer piece. Today, we learn a bit more about Weston, we’re introduced to Graham’s men Dee and Sunders, and we discover Graham is not someone you want to mess with. Enjoy! :D

CW : Animal corpse used as a metaphor, bribery mention, broken bones (and the symptoms that accompany them), concussion, cowboy shenanigans, gun mention and threat (not real), hogtie threat (not yet realized), knife mention, mild cursing, somewhat degrading language, thieving mention, touch of low self esteem, vaguely implied unsafe home life.

(I’m new to content warnings, so if I’ve missed something, please don’t hesitate to let me know! :D )

Tagging: @milk-carton-whump, @unicornscotty, @abitefullofwhump, @alliecat5594, @ihaveacrushonjester (Let me know if you want to be added or removed from this list!

2 - Good Ol’ Righteous Cowboy

Weston has only met Graham twice before this. Once, last week when he came to investigate the ranch’s missing cattle. “Sheriff Graham Miller,” he’d introduced himself. The way he’d carried himself, charming and self-assured, Weston was sure the culprit would get theirs, and if Johnson was lucky, he’d get his cattle back before Weston moved on.

And then Weston found that handkerchief caught on the barbed wire fence, “G.M.” embroidered on it in a stunning shade of blue. As far as leads went, it was pretty thin, but that blue thread and those initials—there was no way it could be a coincidence.  

Which is what led him to his second encounter, dressed in Johnson’s clothes, pretending to be a wealthy man in search of some cattle for his father’s failing ranch. Of course, Weston was nowhere near wealthy, and his father’s ranch, he’d remembered with a shudder, was doing just fine, but wearing Johnson’s Sunday best, he sure as hell looked the part. 

But with Graham being the one to show him around, he could only see so much. Weston was walked past rolling pastures and prize-winning cattle, sure, but no proof. 

Which is what led him to his final attempt at getting it, not exactly a third encounter but one that led to it—this one—kneeling in front of two of Graham’s men, a lasso tight around his middle and with his right ankle throbbing painfully with every heartbeat. 

Despite their lack of history, when one of Graham’s men pistol whips him across the face, it feels strangely personal. Weston can feel the malice, sees the satisfaction on the left’s face when his own snaps sharply to the right. The shock of it almost overwhelms the burn. Almost.

Weston stays there for a second, hunched over with his eyes squeezed shut, reminding himself to breathe, letting out a pained groan instead. Another breath, this time bracing. He shakes off the stinging pain and rights himself with a tight lipped smile. 

His tongue darts out over his bottom lip, tastes blood. Yeah, he’s sporting a split lip now. He winces at the pain, more an ache than a burn now, and blinks back involuntary tears. 

When Weston raises his eyes again, the man has his revolver in hand, arm pulled back to strike him again. God, he hates to admit it, but he flinches, tucking his face into his shoulder, waiting for the blow.

He hears the grunt of effort, expects his view to whip right again in a burst of pain when he hears, “Stop playing with him, Dee. Get his legs.” When Weston doesn’t feel the strike, he allows himself a glance in the direction of the voice. 

It’s the man on the right, face stony with purpose. 

The man on the left, “Dee” Weston assumes, shoots the man a venomous glare, then turns to look at Graham, who’s digging into the saddle bag of one of the horses. 

Graham’s not paying attention when the butt of the gun slams into Weston’s temple. 

Weston hits the ground hard, landing heavily on his shoulder, cheek pressed into hot rocky dirt. His head, oh God. He gasps against the blinding pain, eyes skewed shut as he gapes like a fish out of water. 

“Dee.” Between the ringing in his ears and his ragged breaths, he hears it, a low reprimand but not a surprised one. 

Weston forces his eyes open to look at the two men now looming over him, but he ends up shutting them again. When did the sun get so damn bright? 

“You wanted me to get his feet, Sunders.” Sunders. That’s got to be the other man’s name. And—wait, they’re still talking. Focus, Weston, focus! “ —think he was gonna let us tie him up that easy? Graham likes Randy clueless. The sooner he’s tied up, the less questions we gotta answer. Get me?” 

Randy? Who the hell’s Randy? 

Weston lies there for what feels like ages before the more important thoughts make their way back to him. Graham’s here. Dee and Sunders, they’re going to tie him up. His ankle’s shot, he’s got that lasso around him that’s not going to let him go anywhere. 

And all three of them are armed. Great. 

Weston worms his arm out from under him and eases himself up until he’s propped on an elbow. For a moment, the world spins. Forget cotton. His head’s full of sloshing water, distorting and disorienting and all too heavy for what it is. 

He wants to lie back down, let whatever’s going to happen happen. He’ll feel those ropes dig into the tender skin of his wrists and bite into his swelling ankle. Will they make him walk? No, not with a hogtie. He’ll more likely be draped over the back of a horse and taken back to the ranch, where— 

Where what? Who knows what’ll happen back at that ranch? And what the hell is he thinking, lying back down and giving in? He shakes his head with a sneer. If he’s going to that no good sheriff’s ranch, he’s going angry, not complacent. 

So he pushes himself up until he’s sitting again, lightheadedness be damned, and squinting at Graham’s back, legs stretched out in front of him, he calls, “You needed three guys to get a hold of me, Graham?” It comes out a groan, nowhere near as snarky as he wants it to be, but it’s dripping with sarcasm nonetheless—and based on the smile that sneaks over the sheriff’s face, it catches his attention. “Why, I’m flattered. ‘Course, I probably should’ve expected as much.”

Dee’s at eye level in an instant. He grabs a fistful of Weston’s shirt and jerks him forward, lips curled up in a snarl. “Why, you—” 

But Graham just laughs from his spot by the horses. 

Dee’s eyes, still shining with murder, flicker with confusion, and Weston’s gaze snaps over to Graham, doubled over with warm, genuine laughter. What the hell?

The grip on Weston’s shirt wavers as the seconds tick by. Finally, Weston clears his throat and says, “Sure, I find your stupidity funny, too, but—” 

Graham’s gun is trained on him before he can finish. 

“Dee,” Graham says, motioning with his revolver. It’s a command. Dee barely spares Weston a smug grin before pulling his hands from Weston’s clothes and stepping into place between Graham and Sunders.

Graham squares his shoulders and, accent thicker than Weston’s ever heard it, he says, “What’s funny is you talking about stupidity.” 

Weston knows he should be scared, and he is. He feels it, unadulterated fear, making its way to his shaking fingers, twisting knots deep in his stomach, watching him stare down the blackened barrel of this gun, telling him, Give up, give in. Maybe he’ll let you walk away. 

It’s so damn tempting.

But Weston has already given in to too many people like Graham with the promise of walking away too many times, so despite everything, he balls his trembling hands into fists, meets Graham’s eyes with a pained smirk, and says, “Please, do tell.” 

Graham grins. 

“Good ol’ righteous Weston Casey.” He shrugs past Dee and Sunders and makes his way towards Weston, digits lazily fingering his gun’s trigger, blue eyes scanning him and the barely concealed shock on his face. “Yeah, I’ve heard about you. Hardworking, dependable, new in town. You rolled on in here just last month, didn’t you?”

Weston doesn’t answer. Instead, he changes the subject. “What do you mean, ‘righteous’?” 

Graham stops by Weston’s feet and sits back on his haunches, eyes trailing idly over his body. “I mean your absurd morals,” he says. “I’d heard about it before, but I saw it clear as day when I came to Johnson’s ranch yesterday. You were angry for him.” He laughs to himself, toying with the trigger thoughtlessly. 

But the hammer’s still standing tall by the frame, not pulled back. So the gun’s not cocked yet. It never was. That’s good news. 

“It’s a damn shame,” Graham continues. He’s looking at Weston’s face again, a tiny knowing smile on his lips. Did Weston’s realization show? “The bribe I would’ve paid you—beyond generous. Not that you would’ve taken it.”

“What’s this got to do with stupidity?” Weston cuts in. He’s stalling at this point, he knows it, but he needs something—anything—to distract him from the fear bubbling just beneath his surface. 

“Well, we’re talking about you, aren’t we?” Another flick over the trigger as Graham’s tone shifts, almost amused. “A good, quiet stranger rolls into town, surely minding his own business when something not quite right goes down. A few cows go missing. Nothing special, nothing new. Cattle go missing all the time around these parts. But being him, he decides he wants to investigate.” 

Graham’s voice darkens then. Weston forces himself to be still under Graham’s scrutiny as his eyes travel over his left leg, then to his right. Then to his right ankle, swelling like a cow’s carcass in the summer sun under his jeans. “And he finds out a little too much,” Graham continues. “And he gets in a little too deep. And he decides he wants to do the right thing. Which, in itself, is not a stupid thought.” Graham glances back up at Weston. “But his—your—morals, they get in the way of some really great opportunities. A guy like you would fit into this cattle rustling operation real well.” 

At that, Dee’s expression visibly sours behind Graham, but he stays quiet. Smart or scared?

“I know you won’t take the bribe,” Graham says lowly, “but how about a fair trade? Your work for my money, plain and simple.”  

Weston scoffs to himself. His heart is in his throat pounding so loud he can hear it, but it’s not even a question. He meets Graham’s eyes through his mop of hair and says, “Over my dead body.” 

He means it. 

Graham stares at him, and for a second Weston thinks he might burst out laughing again. But he just smiles, more to himself than Weston, seemingly thinking something over. 

He tucks his gun back into his holster, shoots Weston a big grin. And then his gloved hands shoot out and twist his right foot hard.

Weston’s broken bones in the past. He’s felt that wet snap of the initial break. He’s felt the numb shock before his brain catches up with his body. He’s felt that nauseating pain that accompanies every jostle and movement of the site.

But he’s never felt anything like this.

Weston shrieks, white hot blinding, agonizing pain that he feels all the way to his fingertips in sharp, involuntary spasms. Overwhelming, all encompassing. In this moment, Weston is pain. 

Too much, too much, too much! It’s blaring in his head like a siren, that fear. His face goes hot, then cold. Tears run down his cheeks, but he’s too focused on gritting his teeth against another wail to care.

“See, I gave you a chance just then,” Graham says over his cries. “I offered you a job, nice and respectable like, and you turned it down—and for what?” He leans in close to Weston, a hand still twisted in the fabric of his pant leg. “A few meaningless morals? If you ask me, that’s awful stupid of you.”

Graham wrenches his ankle again, and even though Weston knows what to expect, it’s just as awful as the first time—worse even. Bone grinding on bone, leather on swollen, hypersensitive, hot-to-the-touch flesh. 

He throws his head back with a broken sob. “G-Graham—!” Weston doesn’t know why he says that. He doesn’t even realize it’s him saying it, not in his current state, concussed and half delirious with pain. 

But he definitely hears “Yes, Weston?” through the haze, barely registers Graham’s hand leaving his leg. 

The twisting’s stopped, Weston knows it, but the pain hasn’t. He still feels it, twisting, twisting, the rough seams of Graham’s leather gloves on swollen skin. And he feels dread, prominent, telling him this isn’t the worst to come, not by a long shot, that only makes it hurt worse.

He hasn’t felt a dread like this since his last month at the family ranch.

As the worst of the pain melts from his limbs, just enough for it to be bearable,  his wits start to come back to him, and it occurs to him that he cried out Graham’s name in an agony-induced panic. Then Graham had asked him a question: “Yes, Weston?” His stomach drops at the thought. 

What had he been looking to say? Would he have begged? “G-Graham, please stop! Please!” Or would he have bargained? “G-Graham, I won’t tell a soul, I swear!” Maybe, Weston realizes with a thick swallow, he would’ve accepted Graham’s terrible offer, helping steal cattle for the man he’s grown to hate in the last twenty-four hours to save himself. “G-Graham, I… I’ll do it.”

Graham had called him righteous.

Weston is a coward. 

“Weston, you wanted to say something to me?” Graham is grinning, blue eyes glimmering with mirth. He wants to know what he was going to say just as much as Weston does.

Weston stares at his feet. His ankle is back to that constant throb, but the muscles in his foot and calf are still twitching and seizing from Graham’s rough hands. “Yeah, I did,” he says quietly. “I wanted to tell you, ‘Graham…’”  

He shakes his head, sets his jaw, meets Graham’s eyes with a steely gaze. And then he spits at him, fueled by what little fight he has left, “‘Graham, get your damn hands off of me.’”

Righteous. Coward. 

Liar.

Graham stares at him for a long moment before rising to his feet, that stupid smug grin still on his face when he looks back down at him. 

“I like you, Weston. I really do,” he says, vaguely apologetic, “and you’ve made a lot of stupid decisions today that I could forgive you for. But that decision you made just now, making an enemy out of me? Real stupid.” 

Graham turns on his heel and shoulders his way past Dee and Sunders again, only this time he stops between them and, in a voice just loud enough for Weston to hear, he says to them, “Now, I know I told you two to get him trussed up.” The look Graham gives Weston is chilling. “So tell me, what’s he still doing with his hands free?” Graham casts a final glance at Weston before Dee and Sunders make their way towards him for the second time.

This time, they don’t hesitate. Sunders pockets his knife, walks behind Weston, and tugs his arms behind his back, holding them together by the wrists. “Grab the rope from my horse, Dee,” he calls.

But Dee is standing by Weston’s feet, smiling a malicious smile. “His legs first,” Dee says. 

Weston can’t see Sunders’s face, but he can hear the exasperation in his voice from behind him when he replies, “There’s no way he’s going anywhere on that ankle now.”

“I know that.” Dee crouches down by Weston’s feet, eyes running down the length of his right leg. “But I want to start with his legs.”

Sunders sighs and drops Weston’s arms back to his sides, already aching at the joints from the position. 

“I’ll hold him down.” 

Sunders takes his spot next to Dee and puts pressure on Weston’s thighs, holding him still while Dee goes for Sunders’s rope. If Weston didn’t know better, he’d think they were trying to help him. 

But he does know better, and he knows their intentions are anything but pure. 

He could shove them off, Weston realizes from his spot on the ground. He could, and if he tried, he could get a good solid kick on Dee when he gets back if he uses his left leg. He’d sure as hell deserve it.

But watching Dee take his place by his feet again, Weston doesn’t. Smart or scared, righteous or cowardly—Weston doesn’t know anymore.  He just glares at Dee. 

Dee smiles back at him. “You got him, Sunders?”

“I’ve got him.”

“Good.”

Dee feels the rope in his hands, tests its strength with a few sharp pulls. Then he turns to look at Graham. 

Graham nods at him from by the horses. 

When Dee turns back to Weston, he’s grinning from ear to ear, eyes twinkling with mischief. 

“I’m gonna enjoy this.”

[call-me-sammy]

About Walnuts... or something

Matt Murdock crackfic

Word count: 1444

This was great. Perfect. Awesome. Just what he needed right now.

With a sigh, Matt shed off his jacket, dropping it to the ground next to him. The crack of his neck echoed through the alleyway he’d been forced to back into, as he briefly warmed himself up for the upcoming fight.

Fucking kingpin and his stupid goons. They’ve always had a shit sense for timing. Fuck them and their habit of ruining his good mood.

He raised his fists. The scarf he was always carrying with himself since the last time he had to act quickly without his suit (he’d learned from his mistakes, mind you) was now dangling around his head, covering his eyes and nose. Time to beat up some bad guys.

Five minutes later, with a nosebleed and a few bruises that would surely be a dark shade of purple by the time he got home, he kicked the last goon hard in the side. Not because it was necessary (he was already very much unconscious), but because, frankly, the guy was a dick.

He looked down on himself. Or rather, he dropped his chin to his chest and concentrated on taking in all his surroundings.

Now, the stench of blood all around him became obvious. Fuck, he hated the smell of it. It wasn’t his own blood for once, thankfully, but it was still on his hands. And his face. And clothes. On his shirt. On his white, button up shirt.

Awesome, another one of his good shirts ruined. It just had to be one of the button ups he always wore to work, didn’t it? Those goons had no respect for fashion (or sense for it either, considering what they were wearing). Did they have any idea how expensive good clothes could be??

He let out a huff as he kicked him again, this time in the face (just for good measure), before turning away and making his way back towards his apartment, casually picking up his jacket on the way and slinging it over his shoulder.

He’d have to go buy some new shirts.

--

“Hey, sorry, excuse me, could you help me find some, uh... walnuts...?”

He spoke the last word hesitantly, suddenly not entirely sure if he remembered correctly. He’d heard someone, somewhere, mention them being a good, ecofriendly substitute for detergent. For some reason, he had remembered that conversation today of all days, shortly after his afternoon fight, and he’d thought hey, why not try if it actually works? Doing good for nature and all, you know.

Now, he wasn’t entirely sure about it anymore though. Walnuts. It had been walnuts, right?

“I just need help finding them because I, uh-“

He waved towards his eyes, trying to explain to the Aldi employee why he needed her help.

“Well. I’m blind.”

Yes, she knows Matthew. You’re wearing toned glasses and you have a white cane with you. It’s pretty obvious.

The employee just shrugged. “I kinda figured. So, walnuts, yeah?”

“Yes. Walnuts. I need them for, uh. For washing.” He added dumbly, regretting it immediately. Now she was gonna think him a weirdo, great job Matthew. Who even used walnuts for washing, anyways?

“....and to eat them. Of course. Cause walnuts, uh, they make smart... from what I’ve heard. Uhm...”

He trailed off, as soon as his brain, helpful as ever, informed him he was only making it worse. Yeah, he could really use some “smart” now. Damn it, Matthew, get your shit together.

The girl didn’t even bat an eye, she just shook her head slightly and gently took him by the elbow, guiding him down an aisle.

“This way.”

“Oh, and I also need some new shirts? I got bloo- ...blond. Uh. Blond hairdye, on my shirt, because I was... dying my hair—“

He could’ve slapped himself. You have dark hair, Matthew.

She just rolled her eyes (not that he would’ve known) and got him to the clothing aisle next. Customers.

Five minutes later he stood outside of the Aldi again, clutching a bag of walnuts and a maxi pack of plain, white shirts. He also bought a glass of stracciatella yoghurt, cause he was hungry, and impulse buying’s a thing. Sue him, it just smelled good.

Now he didn’t even really need to wash his old shirt anymore since he had new ones, but he was still gonna do it. He was curious now, if it was really gonna work.

Back at home he dumped all of the new shirts plus the old, stained one straight into his washing machine, then put a few of the walnuts in a sock and after a second of hesitation, just threw it in there too. He started the machine, turned away and then just forgot about it for the next couple hours.

---

“Damn, I’m gonna be late again, damn it damn— Foggy, hey!”

He almost crashed into his friend, while hurrying down the corridor as fast as he could while still trying to look like a normal blind guy.

“Christ, Matt, you gotta slow down or you’re gonna break your neck running into someone, man. Where were you? You’re almost late again, and— oh Jesus, what are you wearing?”

Even without seeing it, Matt could feel Foggy's horrified stare on him. Or, rather, on his shirt.

“What's wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Fuck, Matt, is that blood?”

Foggy's voice was a harsh whisper. He pulled Matt into an empty room, pulling the door close behind them.

Matt sighed. With his luck, out of all the shirts he just had to pick the old one, didn’t he?

“No, it’s-“

“Matt. Stop bullshitting. Man, what did you think wearing an obviously bloodstained shirt to work? Are you insane?”

“Is it really that bad?”

“Yes, it is! Can’t you, like... smell it or some shit?”

Matt was growing increasingly annoyed. He crossed his arms over his chest. As if this was his fault. Stupid walnuts.

“No I can, normally, but I washed it. It just smells like soap now. No blood.”

“So what, you just threw a bloody shirt into the washing machine without doing anything else with it before?”

“Yeah, why, what should I have done with it? Isn't just washing enough?”

Foggy shook his head, incredulous.

“Geez, how are you so clueless about all of this? Wasn’t your dad a boxer? You need to wash the blood out first, with cold water, and then treat it with lemon juice or vinegar or something before actually washing it. It won't wash out completely if you don't, man. I feel like you should know that by now.”

“...wait, how do you know all of this?”

Foggy shrugged.

“Had to listen to one of Karen's rants about it.”

“And why would Karen know that much about washing out blood? I thought I was the one beating up people here.”

Foggy gave him a disappointed look, the words “you gotta be kidding me” basically radiating off of him.

“...she’s a girl, Matthew.”

“Yes, I know that, thank you, but why— ...oh. Right.”

“Jesus, Matt, I thought lawyers were supposed to be smart. But you’re just one hell of a dumbass, seriously..”

He shook his head and pulled Matt's jacket closer together over his chest to cover more of the stains.

“...c‘mon, let's just go to my place real quick. It’s closer, but we’ll still be late though. Well, better be late than have our new clients see you wearing that. Would give one hell of a first impression, that's for sure.”

Matt only hummed in response and was about to walk out again, when Foggy held him back.

“What did you wash it with, anyways? Smells a bit funny.”

Matt had noticed too, of course, but it just smelled a bit different from his usual detergent. There was nothing wrong with it. Not really.

“Oh, uh, with Walnuts.”

There was a short pause.

“....with walnuts? Why would you- what? ...Why?”

“I think I heard someone talk about it once? How it’s more ecofriendly and better for nature and all. Just thought I’d give it a try.”

He shrugged, and then grew more and more concerned and confused when Foggy didn’t respond. Then, after a good five second pause, he burst out laughing so hard that Matt actually flinched.

“Soapnuts, Matt, they’re called soapnuts! Not fucking walnuts, soapsnuts!”

Foggy was laughing so hard he was close to tears, wheezing breaths in and out.

Matt on the other hand was blushing hard in embarrassment. Oh god.

“Oh. I thought they said- I didn’t know-“

Foggy just hugged him briefly, a single tear running down his cheek.

“Fuck, Karen is gonna love this!”

---

About a week later, Matt received a package. No sender, just his adress and the word “walnuts” written on it in black ink.

When he opened it, he found a wooden corset inside. Made out of walnuts. (He looked damn good in it.)

@tallbisexualwantstobeloved @whumpdoyoumean @do-androids-dream-ao3acc

Note: alright folks, what you here see is a weird crack fic me and three other people wrote, just for fun. The idea came from a dumb joke and a, admittedly, pretty weird but hilarious conversation, and somehow we decided to make a challenge out of it? So all of us wrote a fic for it. You can find them here, here, and here. I really recommend reading them cause frankly they’re pretty hilarious XD

Thanks for reading!

[undergrounddweller89]

It's another late at night one between them because reasons, I don't need to explain myself *flips a tiny table*

Killian stood there infront of the fridge, looking over it's contents, he was hungry, he wanted to snack on something...but all Beckett had in his fridge was...health food...he could really murder someone for a piece of cake, chocolate, chips...sleep couldn't find him and he couldn't find it.

He reached in deciding on some fruit flavoured yogurt, he would have preferred ice cream but such is life apparently.

A claw tapping on the fridge door it was a low one the top half a freezer and yes he had looked in there.

The clock ticked loudly for some reason when it was night time, glancing over at the kitchen door, thinking that each tick would be the one to wake Beckett....now if he was on the table for something he could eat, he'd devour him.

Heh there was definitely something between his thighs he'd like to snack on but why would Beckett so much as look at him.

He had been permitted to move in with Walter, of course the scientist had seemed eager, to let him live there, he'd been his first Misson...heh...First villain, did that mean he took his spyginity...fuck he was glad no one could hear that dumbass comment, he even groaned at himself and here he was still standing with the yogurt in hand, wearing nothing, usually he would put on a pair of boxers as a courtesy to Walter but there was little chance that he'd wake up....

"Tristan?"

When he'd heard Becketts voice he tapped the side of his neck, didn't want to give the young man nightmares with his deformed face.

"You know you don't need to do that Tristan."

Walter smiled, sleepily rubbing at one eye.

Killian only made a sound but he did look at him, looks like he'd borrowed one of his shirts...again, but he never complained, they practically swallowed him, they were so baggy on his lithe form it was...was it possible for something to be sexy cute because if so Walter was the damn epitome.

"Was you looking for something to eat, not much in here, should go out tomorrow."

Killian replied matter of factly.

"Oh, sorry, I'm still getting used to making sure there's actually food in the house...I'll go tomorrow...you can come with if you want."

The young man shifted from foot to foot, tugging the shirt down, did Killian have to look so pretty, even with resting bitch face.

"Sounds like a plan...I have not exactly ventured out much

Killian looked Walter up and down, oh yes the perfect snack right there, but out of reach...right?

His robotic eye glowing a brighter blue as he thought of swiping everything off the table and planting Walter on it...did it make him a terrible man that from the moment he'd stepped on him in Venice, when he'd made the comment about having fun he'd absolutely would have done his damnedest to seduce him if he had not been a man on a mission, not blinded by hate for Sterling, he was still baffled by the fact Walter even let him live in the same space as him considering he'd tried to kill him...

twice...

Yes it made him terrible in his opinion.

Perhaps he'd even fantasised about Walter turning at the last minute, instead of deactivating his arm, he could have carried him off somewhere and made him his...

apprentice.

"Hey, Killian, Earth to Mcford, you're gonna ruin the contents of what we do have in the fridge if you leave it open like that, mind closing it."

Walter chuckled reaching up and tapping Killian's nose.

"I can't do that Beckett."

Tristan answered sheepishly, god what was it about Beckett that made him like this...smart, sweet, unique, he really was a light in the world he'd missed, never knew he needed until he knew he needed him.

Walter stepped forward and Killian shifted a little and sucked in his lips, well that was not what he expected the younger man to do, there was a long moment of silence as Walter looked down at him, problem was he liked Beckett looking, liked that he was staring at all of him and it was becoming obvious.

"You know Killian, I wouldn't mind a late night snack myself...I mean if the feeling's mutual."

Killian nearly dropped the yogurt, hands flailing to catch the plastic container, surprisingly being the Villain was easy, being hit on by a five ft nine scientist who looked like the wind could blow him over apparently had him...well like this.

He watched as Walter moved back a little, tucking his hair behind his ear, feeling somewhat embarrassed, oh perhaps he was wrong, that there hadn't been moments or lingering touches, maybe he'd imagined he'd found Killian staring at him

"Sorry, weirdos probably don't do it for you, probably like either some big guy like yourself or a lady with-"

Killian tossed the yogurt back in the fridge and closed the door, oh yes he'd found the exact snack he wanted.

Walter squeaked at the sudden action but when Tristan pulled him forward, claws pulling the front of the shirt to do so he didn't fight, he sank into that kiss, apparently both of them were starving, he reciprocated eagerly, hands sliding along his back, finger tips over scars, Walter could feel him pressed against his thigh, slowly moving.

Tristans hands felt so big on his waist, the man could engulf him entirely and do with him as he pleased, he wanted to surrender to him but the moment he felt his fingers on his bare skin he giggled making Tristan stop.

"Beckett, what is it?"

He looked at him dead serious and was trying not to be offended, had he done something Walter found funny.

"Your hands are cold, you're cold after standing in front of the fridge."

Walter smiled, it was so warm and kind that Tristan couldn't help but smile just a little to.

The machine lights from Becketts home made devices were lined with glowing lights, a soft blue highlighting them both, each of them just marveling at the others beauty, silence passing, just the rising and falling of their chests showing that either of them were alive, still, lost in that moment.

Walter took Killian's hands holding them, leaning up to kiss him sweetly, he kissed his lips, his jaw and then his neck where the sensors were, triggering the masking tech, revealing his true face once more.

Killian instinctively went activate it again, he didn't want Walter to see him like that when they were like this...scarred and ugly...

Walter stopped him, capturing his hand in a gentle clasp stopping him from turning it on again

"You don't need to hide yourself from me...I know it doesn't mean much but to me-"

Killian looked at the hand that held his, watching as it moved, letting go of him to caress his face, to trace the marred flesh between metal plating, over his scalp, leaning into his touch, pressing himself closer a thigh pressed between Walter's thighs a playful smile couldn't help creep up on him, so the scientist was going commando.

His eyes closed as Walter caressed what he hated...some how his touch, so affectionate, so tender, Killian knew he'd do anything for Beckett...he felt fingers teasing the line between scarred flesh and where his hair began, making him shiver that felt lovely, so very wonderful his spine tingling, moaning softly.

"Tristan..."

"Hmm?"

Killian returned still leaning into his touch.

"Don't ever let anyone ever tell you, you're not beautiful..."

Killian's eye fluttered open as the robotic one flickered on when he heard that, something in his chest ached...it was a beautiful kind of pain and he'd known it only once before...oh when had that happened...when had he fallen in love with Walter Beckett?

Cupping Walters face kissing him again, slow and passionate, adjusting himself again so their hips lined, claws on his hip.

"You gonna strip me down to Tristan, body heat is best shared when both people are-"

Killian ripped the shirt open from the neck down, looking like a predator who wanted to consume him entirely

"I thought you liked that shirt!?"

Was the response Killian got but he only grinned

"Oooh Beckett, I think it should be obvious by now, I love what's underneath more."

"Promise you'll call in the morning?"

Walter teased.

Killian paused he noticed the tinge of vulnerability, lifting his chin

"Whoever it was that didn't call you, I'll kill them, you just have to say the word."

Walter shouldn't feel so secure in his hands, so safe, this man had more than once tried to kill him, he did though, he felt as if nothing could hurt him here in this moment.

"They even called me weirdo."

"Tell me a name Beckett, I'll make sure it hurts when I end them."

He growled, there was something though in Walter's look a strange sort of expression and smile on his face.

"I already did, now...are you going to take me to bed or are we both destined to freeze in our kitchen."

Killian's heart was racing at that answer, wonder boy wasn't so perfect after all, oh, oh he was going to absolutely ravish him

"Tristan."

"Yes Beckett?"

Killian answered, face buried against his neck, biting softly at his pale flesh, Walter's hands on him, hips pressed together, feeling him, his warmth, everything.

"Make sure I still feel it In the morning...I want to ache and know it's because of you."

Ohhh Killian was more than happy to comply with his wishes he picked him up, they barely made it upstairs to Tristans room, anyone outside might fear a murder was happening, neither of them holding back, finally giving in to what had always been there, primal and urgent, aching, sating a desire that had been festering between them until the dam broke and the idea of being separated was painful, they shared themselves to the fullest, subdued and weakened by want of one another...no matter what the future held after this, after everything no matter what.

Tristan Killian Mcford belonged to Walter Beckett and Walter Beckett belonged to Tristan Killian Mcford, they were one, they could not define beginning and end between them, one breath only to be exhaled by the other.

Yes to put it simply.

They loved each other.

(Also got tipsy half way through writing this xD)

[theyanderespecialist]

Stripper Dear 2 (One Shot) Valentino X Marie OC (Hazbin Hotel) (Yandere)

[Hello My Sexy Readers, we are here with a part two and it shows more of Val bad side. And Manipulation remember val is a rapist and no matter how much he simps he also has anger issues that does not change with a yandere he is in hell for a reason. Anyways I hope you all enjoy this chapter as well our super sexy readers]

(Marie's pov)

I roll over in the bed. It had been a week since that while fiasco. I did tell Val how I felt about how he treated others, how he treated me, and he seemed to be trying..if I was around. I have a feeling he's a douche if I'm not around. I was just happy he gave me a full week off work which left me sitting in bed, taking baths, napping, and snacking..though I'm pretty sure I've gained a pound or two, I swear they put crack in the sweets. I hear a knock as I looked up letting out a grunt as the door opened as I see Val.

"Oh hey."

"Hello hello hello, it's bright and early, and you're still in bed." He said as I looked at him.

"Mhm.. and I don't plan on leaving." I said. Of course I wasn't, since I'm staying at Val's and his beds are..god they are so comfortable.

"You know I've been thinking it's been a while.." he said smiling as I knew what he was talking about.

"Has it now?" I asked as I smirked.

"sorry, no time. I've got work."

"Wha- I'm the owner, I say you don't have work."

"Mm..I Think the shift manager and my rent say otherwise." I said smirking as I got up. "Then what was that about not leaving?" "Oh I meant I'm not leaving this room unless necessary." I said as he placed his hands on his chest.

"Oh I see, now you see me as your personal bank card. Is that it?" I look at him and smile. "Mhm, yeah." I said as I ducked under his arms as I can hear him walking after me as I smirk. I don't actually have work it's just fun to see him get desperate.

(oh god Marie did a 180. I mean to be fair if you could manipulate a powerful demon Lord into being the one desperate for you, you'd probably do the same and besides it's harmless teasing.

(She so would so would I XD)

"Well I want you o move in with me." He said suddenly and I stopped looking up at him.

"Huh?"

"You heard me, I mean you been hear a week in my mansion and I have grown accustomed to you being here and I don't want you to work as a stripper no more." He says crossing his four arms. "I don't like the idea of other demons looking at you when naked."

"What would I do then?"

He smirked. "I could think of a few things in our free time~" He purrs. "But a job you actually want to do, want to be a baker bake want to design clothes do that. I want you happy as long as other demons keep there eyes off you."

(as long as you dont make this yandere angry he is good but your cross a line and he punish you for his darling only sees that soft loving side unlike anyone else.)

I looked at him as I then smiled and sighed. "Val..and here I was trying to surprise you that I didn't actually have work." I said as I smiled.

"But I can't just not work, getting a job could take a while, I don't want to be out of work and just doing nothing." I said as he looked at me.

"You know.. I should be mad at you for lying.. but I've come to learn you like to play around, but I'm serious. Move in."

"..do I get a choice?"

"Yes. Either say yes or say yes." He said.

I looked at him and then sighed, smiling. Yes he was not giving me a choice but it was because he loves me and wants me close. But I was worried about living off of him I did not want to do that.

"Val..I don't want to live here and not contribute, I don't know if I can get another job."

"I don't care hell you can bake and use me as a model for clothes while you wait but just thinking about that those demons do." I could see he was getting jealous and I smile.

"Val.. they normally behave.. well except for one guy when I went to grab my bag yesterday." I said holding down a smirk.

"What? What happened"

"oh nothing much, just..a handsome demon came over to me..told me how good I looked.."

He grabbed me and pinned me to the wall kissing me savagely I learned fast he was the jealous and possessive type. I kissed back.

"Don't make me fire you." He growled.

I smile. "I know you would never do that, but... I will leave my job but your going to be a co owner of my bakery mr. money bags. You know how good I can bake so it won't be long until demons are flooding in. But..." I say and press my foot on his clothed cock as he had me face level with him. "I think I should earn that money from you don't you~"

He smirked at that tossing me over his shoulder and taking me to his bedroom. I mean he gave me my own room so I could adjust but I did sleep with him every night regardless just lounge in the other bed instead of his during the day.

I won't lie sex was actually still scary in fact all of this, was just from videos I found, but some of it also came from I saw him with some other girls, and they just seemed so attractive. He brought me to the room, putting me down and quickly locking the door as I sat on the edge of the bed, smiling at him as I felt both scared and excited, I mean last time was so nice.

"Mm, so, like last time?" I asked smiling, however he smirked.

"Not at all like last time~" he said as he closed the blinds. What did he mean?

"I won't lie to you I have kinks. Some very kinky kinks. And I am also a man with very high sex drive. So today we are going to push boundaries. I will be rough demanding and in charge. But I will give after care in which I reassure you on how much I love you and make sure your okay this is not to punish or hurt you. It can feel good your safety word if you truly want me to stop is toothpaste. If you say that I will do my best to stop and take care of you. Is anything off the table at the moment?" He asks towering over me.

I was stunned I heard of bdsm before. So I had an idea of where we wanted to go. "Not something to painful.... like no whips or nipple glamps..." I say blushing at the thought

"I know this is just a taste of what we will do~ not going to through you in the deep end." He says. "Strip for me~ now."

I stood up, smiling at him as I pulled off my sweater, then pulling my shirt, making sure to pull it off slowly and then my bra, letting my breasts be free, stoping for just a second to push them together as he smelled as I pulled off my skirt, letting it drop to reveal that I was in fact, not wearing underwear. Every article I took off, I made sure to make it a show. He smirked and pushed me back on the bed. Pulling his pants off along with his clothes. I bit my lip as he cock sprang free.

"Time to put that mouth to work~" He says and I nod first taking him in my hand and then stroking him slowly to get him fully hard. I then start licking up and down his cock and he moans his fist clenching. I could tell even though he took control he was letting me get comfortable enough with the taste.

He was good when he wanted to be. It was difficult, but I got a rhythm as I licked up and down, putting the tip in my mouth before pulling away to once more as I run my tongue across his shaft. I could tell he was getting antsy so I take half his cock in my mouth and almost gag it was so much. He gripped my hair and started to fuck my mouth but was careful to not go to far down my throat. I sucked and made sure he felt just as good swallowing around his thick meat. I knew I wouldn't really be able to take all of it immediately, but I could tell he was loving it.. and I was happy about it. I let out a choked moan as I let him take the lead, my hands stroking what wasn't in my mouth,gagging occasionally but neither of us pulled away.

I was soaking the bed spread with how wet I was. He was close I could feel him twitching in my mouth but he pulled out and came all over my face. I gasp and cough slightly for air and some of his kids got in my mouth. I pant as I catch my breath. That..was actually really fun.. and based on his face, he wasn't done. He lifts me up and pins me to the bed before hand cuffing me to it. I gasp as he does so then he smirked at me and I shudder.

"w-w-what are you planning to do?" I asked, I was a little nervous.

"I am going to fuck you senseless and your not going to be able to stop me." He says and then lines up with me and I do everything to relax for the penetration.

Yet I felt excitement at those words... and he noticed. "my oh my, look at how wet you are."

I lets his tongue roll out and I did not realize how long it could get he barely had to get close to my woman hood to lick my pussy and I cried out. God that tongue of his~~

"Oh god~ Oh yes~" I moan

He chuckles and smirks.

I thrust up into his mouth. "P-Please! Pl-Please~!"

He smirked more and shoved his tongue in. My eyes roll into the back of my head as I moan thrusting my hips more as I feel his tongue hitting inside of me. I groaned as he worked it in deeper filling me to the brim with his tongue

I pant as I could feel every small movement, my hands turning to fists as I dig my nails into my palms as I moan. God...I mean of this was what Val was like..I can't imagine Stolas..oh that's...that's kind of hot.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY!" He snarled ripping his tongue out of me.

Shit I never seen him like this. Stolas was one of my regulars and he was even taller than Val. I did not mean to make him angry but I knew I crossed a line accidentally saying that out loud.

"i-I-I didn't- I-I didn't mean him! Val.." I said even having to try and shrink back, the tone in his voice..

"Val look at me, I didn't mean he w-was hot. I didn't mean him-Val please you're scaring me wh-when you look at me like that.." I whimper.

He pins me to the bed. "You are mine!" He says leaving bruises. "I Never EVER Want you to want another man or woman! You belong to me I loved you first and I am not loosing you!"

I nodded and started to cry and that is when his grip soften. "Oh baby I did not mean to scare, I just hate that you were thinking of another man when I was making love to you.... Or were you trying to make me jealous you minx~"

(Eddie that you? XD)

I look at him. I really wasn't, in fact if anything, I was trying to say Stolas would be too big for me... Val was ..also too big for me but, it wasn't too uncomfortable.. but I think, the best thing to do is play along though I was still to scared to speak as I could only nod.

"Well then I will just have to remind you how much I adore you and that you are mine and I will always only want you~"He says and starts to suck on my neck.

I moaned he knew what spots to hit to make me wet. I have to remember he loves me and I did think of another man while we were making love.

(Valentino's POV)

(Yeah he is a simp but you make him angry you better hope you can pull off making him jealous. Other wise. He will punish you and not in the fun way That is the type of yandere he is)

I graze my teeth over her neck as she would shudder, I could feel the goosebumps on her thigh. "i-I really am sorry..I-It sounded much more like a joke in m-my head.. I'm sorry..boss." she apologized through her moans.

(I mean you bruised her, without her consent dude, that ain't rough play, that's you hurting her.)

(Yeah dude you might be hot but you are toxic.)

"I am not your boss, I am your boy friend and lover, please call me Val." I say and kiss her bruised shoulders.

She looked at me. "O-Okay..V-Val." she said softly as I smile. "Now, I am sorry about bruising you..I wouldn't ever want to mark your skin..at least not n anger." I said as she looked at me. "N-No it's okay, I-I understand why you did it..why don't you let me make up for it?" She asked as I smirk.

"As hot as that is..."I said kissing her. "I think I need to make sure you know not to ever bring another man or woman up again~" I said as I flipped her over on her stomach as she couldn't really get up because of the handcuffs as I angle and thrust in as she cried out. Though..there's something that's so lovely seeing her face in such an intimate moment, doing this position is hot~ besides it really is a more dominating position than having her ride me.

"I won't take you anally not yet, that is saved for some other time. But I am going to be rough, just remember the safety work~" I say and start to thrust into her she cries out but moans soon.

After my five decades of sex all the time I found how to pleasure a woman or man or non binary person with ease. Being Pansexual also helped.

I'd know of she was in pain, that's why I stopped grabbing her. She managed to move her arms so that despite being handcuffed she could grab the headboard as she moaned from under me

I smirked she was such a naughty little slut trying to tease me. I continue to fuck her senseless she came two more times on my cock and I came once as well only to start up again she was a panting mess shaking on my cock.

"Val please~! HARDER~!" She begs.I smirk at that, this was the first genuine beg for me to go harder on her. "Oh I don't know....I think we've had quote enough fun." I tease pulling out. Course I wouldn't actually say no bit she looked at me shocked before she spread her legs, and continued to do so until she was in a full side split...

I stared at her shocked my cock becoming aching hard.

I.. I didn't know she was actually flexible..

"Well~? Aren't you going to keep going?" She asked."or...maybe you want to have my legs over my shoulders~?

I was in shock but did not waist another second. I had her pinned down and Started to fuck her senseless once more. I broke the hand cuffs and flip her over wrapping my arms around her.

She moaned loudly as she wrapped her arms around me, embracing me tightly as we both got lost in the moment. We both came together and I fell next to her.

“I love you Marie! So damn much!” I pant out

(and that's when she knew... she fucked up)

(XD Never sleep with a yandere life lessons not ones like Val at the very least XD)

She panted as she looked at me. "I-I.. yeah.." I look at her as I laugh. "Oh come on, you're not that tired that you can't think of anything else.".

She then smiled. "I love you too val.." she said. Man.. she must really be tired, I don't blame her. I grab her and pull her closer, her back presses against me as I lay my head down and close my eyes. I think a nap..is well deserved.

I am not going to loose her especially not to that bastard stolas.

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS And SNIFF SNIFF Do we smell another a sequel the answer is yassss we are going to show how This with Val is not a healthy relationship and how with someone like Stolas is more healthy I mean a relationship with a demon is still not so good. But it is better than Val. Anyways We hope you all enjoyed and stay sexy our friends!]

[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.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

SAFE

Marcus Álvarez x Reader

Anon asked: Hi! I'm sooo in love with ur writing!! Anyway I'm wondering if I can have an Alvarez one were the reader gets jumped and beaten by some guys and shes found by him but he thinks shes dead the whole time on the way to the hospital and super super fluffy and the reader gets out and he goes on a man hunt to kill them? I'm sorry if it makes no sense it's a rough idea I had of my own XD

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford​  ✨

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: NSFW, smut

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

The only thing you can feel besides the pain running up your spine, focusing in your head through your neck, is two hands holding your left tightly. A soft kiss on the back of it and some tickles because of the facial hair. You’re trying to open your eyes, turning the gesture into an agony. His voice sounds so far that you’re not sure what he’s trying to tell you, but at least, knowing that he’s there calms all the nerves that were consuming you seconds before. And you don’t know how much time passes when your throat begins to work again. Babbling word with no sense, stirring slightly above the mattress you notice that the edge sinks a little more.

“Whe— Where I am…?”

Taking your time, you’re finally able to talk only opening your right eye. The left seems like it’s covered by a cotton patch and hurt like hell. You don't need to be a genius, looking around you, to figure out that you're at the hospital. Some flashes about last night squeeze your mind. You just closed the bar, outside of Santo Padre, guiding your walk towards your car after a long Saturday dawn. And everything you wanted was coming home faster than other days and lie down on bed. You weren't even in the mood for take off your clothes. But you remember a hand tangling your hair in his fingers, before you could open the automobile, pushing you to the ground. Your head hit it, feeling how the asphalt and your neck got wetted by the blood. Disoriented, you didn't know where the kicks came from straight to your stomach, your back, your arms and your face.

“You know… who I am, chamaca?”

Your gaze quickly reach Marcus, with a worried look on his face and two dark shadows under his eyes. Your orbs tour the largest fingers caressing yours, laying your head above the pillow needing to be more comfortable. You're supposing, because of the pain and the punts, doctors could think that maybe you could need some time to also remember your name. But they're wrong. You can feel the fright wrapping the mexican when there's no answer from your lips, narrowing your hand a little more hoping that the gesture can help you.

“Ma— Marc… us Álvarez”. Muttering for a second, you provoke a soft laugh full of happiness pouring out a tear whilst leaning to you, so he can leave a kiss on your temple.

“You're thirsty, mi niña? Do you want water?”

You nod as you can, moving your chin for one second, trying to get up by your palms. The man helps you after pressing a button on a side of the bed, so it can lift up the headrest. Serving some water in a plastic cup and guiding it close to your lips, he places his free hand on your nape making it easier for you to drink from it. Your throat feels somewhat better, even if the liquid forces you to cough two times.

“I'm so sorry, (Y/N). This is my fault”. Álvarez says leaving away the cup, sitting down on the edge of the bed caressing gentle your bruised cheek with his fingertips. He looks disappointed, upset, sad. His gaze over your hand between his again, but you can't understand why he's blaming himself. “Those perros... are Mayans enemies. They should heard me talking about you”.

“Did you…”

“Bishop”. He doesn't need to listen the whole question. “I brought you there. I thought you were dead, and I didn't care anything else. You're safe now”.

That's enough for you, closing your eye nodding as wrapping his arm to pull him closer until your nose touches his chest. He was just another client of the bar you were working in, but with time he became a friend. You started to assist to Mayans parties, helping them when you were free. And El Padrino was always jumping around you, even when you couldn't notice him. His eyes are always on you, controlling everything surrounding you just to work on making you feel comfortable. Last night was like a blind point.

The days pass between some visits by cops trying to get something out of you about that night, Mayans watching the place and the amazing care of Marcus, until they get you on medical discharge. And even if you would like to go home, as a club decision you're going to stay at the clubhouse till the mexicans find the men who assaulted you.

You're falling asleep under the soft blankets with your gaze on the big window covered by the wooden blind, when the door gets opened. Marcus walks inside without turning on the light, sitting on the edge of the bed. There are no words. Just a heavy sigh escaping from his lips, rubbing his face with both hands and giving you his back. Every night since you're staying there, he comes after being outside all day long to know how you feel, how you are and what you need. But now it's different. You can notice that his whole body is too tense. His breathing is somewhat shaky as his heart beating. Crawling with your knees above the bed, you reach him in silence. You don't need a single word to know that they already found those guys who almost killed you. Marcus is tense because you're going to leave the clubhouse by morning, coming back to your house, so he will not able to see you as much as he would like.

With your fingertips touring his shoulder blades slow, going up to both sides of his neck, you leave your arms falls down on his chest feeling how your skin get wet slightly for what you know it's blood. But you don't care. Not even a little.

“What if I don' feel safe?”

You mutter on his ear, touching it with your nose in a smooth caress. You have never felt insecure, because your father taught you pretty well. That night they just caught you off guard. And Marcus knows that right now you're just pretending because you also want to stay with him. But neither of you are too good expressing yourselves.

“You would have to stay here, till you do”. He just replies, lying his back on your chest as you sit on your heels.

“And you would come every night?”

“I would do anything you want”.

His eyes are closed when your lips reach his left cheek, trailing down every mild kiss towards his jaw, till them find his neck. The simple fact of having his scent so close flooding your lungs, provokes a soft chill going up over your thighs. Your fingers sliding under the kutte the enough to take it off and leave it on a corner. You know how tired Marcus is, so you're good if he doesn't move yet, enjoying every touch of yours. And what you have inside your mind it's not to thank him for taking care of you, but because you truly feel things for him, as he does for you. While your mouth and your tongue are focused on his neck, biting, sucking and tasting it taking your time to memorize every inch of him, your fingers unbutton one by one every button his shirt, playing and trying to desperate him just a little.

“Come here”. He demands with a soft growl on air, grabbing your waist as good as he can, to push you on top of him.

His legs between yours, sitting on his lap and facing each other. When his lips almost touch yours, you feel like you could die right then and there. You both have waited for this too long, so when he kisses you taking away your breath, you don't care about anything else. Getting comfy above him with both hands placed on his head, your lips conform to his and every move they made. You're feeling as if you were on top of the world. Marcus nails his fingers on your thighs, dragging them up under the fabric of your shirt. You know that he wants to be careful, being a little convalescent yet, but if you can't even keep your calm, how are you going to ask him to?

Taking off and throwing his black shirt away, his hands travel over your skin up by your sides so soon as your shirt can fly off from your body running the same fate. Your hips begin to dance over him, noticing the lump under his jeans, listening in the background how his boots falls down too. The friction of the rough fabric rubbing your panties with some delicious pressure provokes you a moan sinked on his mouth. You need him more than you could need anyone, letting your hands travel as if they had a life of their own to unbuckle his belt with trembling fingers, unzipping the jeans faster than he can even think. Helping you to slide them right to the floor beside his boxers, you lick your lips having a quick look of his hard cock touching your abdomen. Latent lust burning in your eyes, getting up of Marcus the enough seconds to pull down your panties by the waistband being grabbed by your hands. You're not going to lose more time, you want to feel him inside you, filling you completely.

Tangling his fingers with yours, pushing you slow to him and touring your whole body with his dark eyes wanting to lease it from memory, you crawl above him attacking his lips again. One of your hands go among your skins holding his hardness, stroking him with necessity while the kiss becomes impure and naughty, with your tongues colliding and tangling with each other. Marcus' breathing starts to be more frenetic and wild, stopping just for a second when you tuck his dick between your legs sinking it in your wetness without expecting. It's fucking delirious. His hugeness breaking through inside you, no waiting for your body to amold wrapping his heat, your hips bounce on top of the mexican whilst your lips being unable to separate from the others.

“Fuck, chamaca…” He growls satisfied with every touch, every move and every sensation you give him.

Forcing you to spread your legs a little more and his dick digging inside you deeper, your uncontrollable moans becomes somewhat louder. You don't care if someone can hear you, because everybody knows that this would happen sooner or later. And even if you have to wait too much, no one could stop you now. Marcus is all you want, not needing to go into details, and you are all he needs to keep his feet on the ground. Like the two pieces of a puzzle, fitting perfectly.

Turning you above the bed, pushing you to the middle of it without pulling himself out of your inland, the man roams his mouth over the skin of your throat biting it so gentle that ends up bristling it. Every delicious thrust with his abdomen hitting yours, makes you beg for more and he absolutely loves it, pounding you somewhat faster nailing his cock and playing with your body. One of his hands pinches your nipple, touring them with his tongue and tasting every inch of your breasts, whilst the free arm is surrounding your waist completely. Marcus needs to have you close, letting him do whatever he wants with your anatomy ready to please him, even if the only thing he wishes at this moment is show you every damn thing he can feel for you without using more words than necessary.

Your legs get tangled in his when the man lies down on top of you, looking for your mouth with somekind of filthy desperation devouring them as soon as he reaches them. You can't describe every sensation that it's running through your body ending up concentrating on your lower abdomen, giving you delectable tickles on it.

“Cum insid' me, please, Marcus…” You beg throaty against his face, while he bites your inner lip hitting your body more anxious.

You don't need a nod, nor an agreement, to know that he's going to do it. And even if you aren't using a condom, having left that idea more than discarded for your first time, you don't care about the risk. There are no hazards when you're together and both are conscious about that fact. You can't help but arching your back as soon as he filled you up with his heat and his teeth biting your lips to silence the way that he has to fall apart under your warmth. The ecstasy finds you after some hard thrusts that almost hit your soul, with his hungry tongue tasting yours. Your hands placed on Marcus' head, being easier to drown his full name wrapping by the undeniable pleasure he provokes you, even when his moves become slowly and leisurely, going rough at least till your bodies can't handle it.

You can feel his seed spilling down by your thighs, when the mexican falls exhausted by your side with a fleeting smirk on his face and a hand lying on his chest. Turning his head to yours, he doesn't waste any more time, wrapping you into his arms whilst you two are trying to recover yourselves.

“Maybe… I could feel more safe sleeping with you”. You mutter sinking your nose on his sweated skin, like yours is.

“Then, I will have to stay”.

[renohasbigtits]

Mpreg Ignis (FF15 Mpreg Headcanons)

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: Contains Mpreg (Male Pregnancy. Don’t like? Don’t read!)

(Side note: this takes place in the alternative Ending of Episode Ignis, 2 years after Noctis goes into the crystal. I know it’s ironic that I’m using a blind Ignis Gif but I thought it looked cute. Shut up!)

• This Man is very observant.

• he’ll noticed changes right away towards his body.

•like when he gets suddenly sick to certain smells, gaining some weight, even tho he works out regularly.

• however, it isn’t until he goes to the doctor, he is giving some news; he is Pregnant!

• at first, Ignis wanted the doctor to repeat themselves, thinking he heard them incorrectly but the doctor just smiled while replying with a “Congrats!”

• he usually isn’t lost for words but this was one of the few times.

• he tries to contact the person who he suspects is the baby’s other parent, but to no avail.

• he isn’t sure what to do at first. He wasn’t sure if he was ready since he has to prepare for Noctis’s return.

• but for awhile, he keeps it a secret. For now.

• around the estimated 5 week mark: he starts having morning sickness, and him still having terrible reactions to the smell of food, didn’t help much.

• he starts getting frustrated with the baby’s other parent, he really wanted to talk to them to figure out a plan for their unborn child but they never answered.

• Iggy’s “partner” was a serious hunter. They usually go on long missions. And by long? They mean MONTHS! But They still made time to call Ignis.

• He realized that he’s on his own for now.

• he now obviously, can’t hunt huge Daemons anymore, for his own personal and his unborn baby’s safety.

• he heads towards the doctor as much as he can, to check up on the baby. One time he hears the baby’s heart beat. He immediately falls in love hearing his future child’s heart beating.

• Now he wants to keep the baby. With or without his “partner”.

•around the estimated 6-7 week mark, he hears horrible news.

•his “partner” died in the middle of a touch battle with Daemons. Which is why he’s been unable to contact his “partner”. Ignis is devastated.

•He knows that he has to rise this baby. For his “partner”.

• some time around the 10 week mark; he notices that he’s growing a bump in his stomach. He couldn’t more happy knowing that his baby was growing.

• by this time, he’s already told the people close to him that he was expecting, everyone has had a very positive reaction and congratulate Iggy.

• When Prompto returns to Lestallum, Ignis tells him that he’s Pregnant. Prompto, either shocked or excited, probably both, passed out (rip lol)

• he promised Iggy’s that he would help me however he could. Ignis appreciate it.

• Prompto starts taking pictures of Ignis and his baby bump. True photographer at heart ❤️ 

• around the 11-12 week mark; Ignis asks Monica to help him, which she gladly accepts. She does the heavy stuff, since that is dangerous for Ignis, who is getting bigger.

• of course, Ignis has experienced cravings but tries his best to control his diet, as he often does. (tho if you ask me, he probably gave in but won’t admit it lmao)

• When Gladiolus arrives to see Ignis (already hearing the news that his friend, is Pregnant) Gladio had to look a few times to make sure he was seeing it correctly. his friends baby bump, much Ignis’s embarrassment.

• but other than that, he is really supportive and promises to help Ignis. (Let’s skip a little shall we? xDDDD)

• around the 20-21 week mark; Ignis felt his baby kick for the first time, tho a little uncomfortable, he already feels like he’s close to his baby.

•By this time, Ignis no longer hunts, not just because he’s getting bigger, but because he was tired.

• Ignis was getting more tired, not moving as much since when he did it felt d r a i n i n g.

• on the bright side, he wasn’t getting sick as much.

• Gladio and Prompto helped bring in some gil (Praise these boys)

•around the 28-30 mark, Ignis was getting more excited about his baby’s arrival. (sorry that was short lol)

• lris bought many cute baby clothes and even helped decorate the baby’s room. Tho it was small, it was beautiful.

•Oddly, Ignis didn’t want to know the gender til after it was born. He wanted to be “surprised” as he puts it. 𝘚𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 -_-

•Ignis also has become more motherly around  Talcott and other kid’s for that matter. (at this point he doesn’t give a f u c k about the mom comments anymore)

• Bitch he’s a MOTHER! NO DRAMA! 🤏🙄

• One thing everyone around Ignis can agree on is that; Ignis has become more Moody. Not much in rudeness (I mean have you met Ignis?) Just irritability.

•around the 35 week mark; Prompto managed to convince Ignis to do a maternity shoot (ooooo)

• tho Ignis pretended to be irritated, he actually was enjoying it. The pictures turned out adorable. Ignis privately asked Prompto for  physical copies for the pics.

• 37 mark; 9 Months Pregnant. He was almost there! Of course, he can’t physically give birth, at 39 weeks, there going to be a planned c-section.

• when asked if there was any baby names, Ignis replied, “My lips are sealed.” ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳 👁 👄 👁

• 38 weeks (yeah I’ve pretty much gave up at this point); Ignis felt some minor pain. Eh he’s felt worse (literally!) but as time goes on, the pain worsen. it got to the point where Ignis started taking deep breath’s.

•A week early, Ignis was in labor!!! (weeeeeeee wwoooooooooooo 🚑)

• Monica, seeing Ignis bend over for support knew it was time. Rushed him immediately to the hospital.

• several hours later (am I annoying you guys get with my puns yet?)

• A baby girl was born! (You change it if you want to but I really want it to be a girl 🥺 👉👈)

•The baby didn’t really look like Ignis, she looked a lot like her other parent who, sadly she’ll never meet.

•holding her for the first time, Ignis teared up, holding his little angel in his arms.

• “it’s you and me against the world.” Ignis whispered in his daughters ears.

• A week later, Ignis finally got to take his daughter home.

• Boy, people really fell in love with her.

•cid was basically a great-grandfather xD

•Prompto...Aww prompto was basically cooing her. Taking as much pics of her. (BEST.UNCLE.EVER)

• 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘴𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘰

• (and you bet he’s gonna bring the baby every time he’s going to see Cindy wink wink)

•Gladio, jokingly replied that they now have “another Ignis around.” While lris happy that it was girl. (she needs friends but so do I)

•About that Comment Gladio made, he honestly wasn’t far from the truth.

• As she got older, she was quiet and reserved but extremely clingy to Ignis.

• As he looked at her, Ignis couldn’t help but feel like he was looking at his former partner all over again. He truly misses them.

• Oddly Ravus really grew to love the child and The child grew to love him. She constantly asking Ignis “When’s Uncle Ravus coming?”

•Ravus became more playful and Calm. Maybe she reminds him of Luna.

• ........

•........

•.......

• Year’s Later, When Noctis came back and brought back the light, and survived, Ignis knew he had to get them to meet.

• When Noctis met his 8-year old Niece, he teared up. He felt so guilty for missing out on so much of her life.

• Ignis, now working full-time at the Citadel, has to take his daughter to work with him, by Noctis request, so he could spend some time with her.

•Ignis felt a like proud Mother.

(Sorry that it got cheesy at the end, I was having too much fun 😅 I hope you guys like it! I’m suprised that there isn’t really any Mpreg Ignis. Maybe because he’s hard to write? Idk. But hey! If you want something done right you Gotta do it yourself!)

Also please be nice about it in the comments this is my first Mpreg headcanon 🥺👉👈 (constructive feedback is welcome obviously)