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kujakumai · 3 years

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cleaned up old WIP, 2800 words, AU where Yami Bakura succeeds in switching hosts in DK and Mokuba makes friends with an evil ghost. Not going to be continued but it literally would not leave my brain alone until I finished it.

Things were not going according to plan.

The plan was to take control of a soulless puppet, an easy vessel incapable of interfering with his ends. He had the vessel, had accomplished that much, but he was not expecting the pharaoh and his little friends to succeed and convince Pegasus to give everyone their souls back. So now not only was there a second person in this body he had to keep suppressed, but now he was stuck impersonating a child, smiling through an awkward reunion and then placed onto a helicopter next to a gangly high school student who was watching him like a hawk.

The spirit-that-was-no-longer-Yami-Bakura knew that he was supposed to be Mokuba, but he did not remember the tall one's name. K-something. He had a stupid jacket and hardly took his eyes off him the entire ride, as if he thought his little brother was going to disappear in a puff of smoke when he wasn't looking. Annoying. Infuriating. Luckily it did not seem he wanted to talk, or at least accepted silence. No one expects recent kidnapping victims to say much, which was a boon. A little dazed, a little quiet, a little off, and no one really found it unusual.

They dropped off the pharaoh and his friends, and finally landed at a gaudy and ostentatious house so large it took him a second to realize it was a home at all, an absurd monument to decadence with grounds full of ugly topiaries. Wealth, then. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad. He could work with this. The rich kid in the stupid coat quietly held his hand the entire walk up the driveway, until they entered a foyer just as gilded and obscene as the outside had been.

No, things were not going to plan, and playing grade-schooler was awkward and an insult to his dignity, and he was farther away from the other millennium items as he ever had been. He would have to grit his teeth through it until he could figure out the next step. In the meantime, perhaps, enjoy some amenities.

Richie rich sighed, relaxed his shoulders the moment they got inside. He looked at who he thought was his little brother and gave him a small, exhausted but genuine smile. He struggled with what to say next.

"Mokuba," he said, "I have to check on a few things in my office. See what kind of damage they did. Do you want to come with me?"

"No." Finally, a chance to be out of this idiot's sight.

This answer seemed to surprise him, a twitch of skepticism. "Will you be okay by yourself?"

He nodded. Keep answers short, when you're impersonating.

His face betrayed more skepticism, concern, and the tiniest hint of disappointment. As if rich kid himself was the one who was scared to be alone in his own house. He accepted the answer, though, to the spirit's relief.

Rich kid bent down and pulled him into a tight hug and ruffled his hair. "We'll get something special for dinner, okay? And ice cream."

"I do like ice cream." This was true. Ryou Bakura almost never bought ice cream, and when he did it was the stupid healthy kind that everyone knew shouldn't even really qualify as ice cream, which was another reason he was a terrible host. That and the fact that he was startlingly pale and had the upper body strength of a limp noodle and the personality of skim milk. This would be better, even if he had to deal with the abrupt drop in height.

Rich kid headed off towards the staircase with another tired but trying-to-be-reassuring smile, and it was then that the spirit of the ring felt an annoyance in the back of his brain. A presence. A scratching, biting, flailing presence, screeching mad, which he had been suppressing for a while now but finally broke through.

get out get out get out get out give it back its MINE get out

The host, awake. What a bother. More rambunctious than Bakura, then? No matter. He could handle a child.

that was MY hug and MY headpat and MY big brother and you can't have them he's been gone for ages and they're mine not yours get out get out get out

The spirit pushed back, ignored him. Shush. He had planned to hold this body alone, and he did not intend to go back to sharing. If you're good, I might let you have it back for a little while later.

shut up go away go away go away go AWAY

And then Mokuba Kaiba did something, something the spirit was not accustomed to or expecting at all, something which Ryou Bakura had never been willing or able to do. He shoved, violently, and the spirit of the ring was ripped out of control with some amount of panic.

"SETOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

Why you insolent little--

Seto Kaiba was not aware of the mental turf war happening over his little brothers body. What he did see was his brother scream his name and fall down, and the whole room echoed with a metal clatter as his briefcase fell on the floor and he ran towards him.

The ring had been discarded unceremoniously to a side table, and not-Bakura-and-not-Mokuba-either had no choice but to wait and observe, as a pediatrician on a sudden housecall shined lights in the boy's eyes and rich kid, who the spirit had since gleaned was named Seto Kaiba, looked on in worry.

"You said you heard a voice?" The doctor asked.

"Uh-huh. I think it lives in the necklace."

"You got that thing at Pegasus's house?" Kaiba asked, in disbelief.

"I don't remember. I was just wearing it when I woke up."

"What did the voice say?" the doctor continued, professionally ignoring any talk about magic necklaces.

"Not a lot. It was kind of mean."

"I see." She turned to Kaiba. "He's fine, physically. You might want a psychologist." and Seto Kaiba made what could politely be referred to as A Face. This was not what he wanted to hear, this was news that worried and annoyed him in equal measure, and to some degree was news he had half-expected.

"He's had a rough few months. I'll look into it." and she was dismissed, and Mokuba hopped down from the counter.

"Can we order pizza?" he asked, with big pleading eyes.

Kaiba watched him with dry amusement. "Mokuba, you can have anything you want from any restaurant in a forty mile radius."

"And I want pizza. Real pizza, from somewhere that doesn't also serve caviar."

"Cheap pizza?"

He nodded very seriously. "The grossest greasiest cheapest."

"I can do that. Anything else you want?"

Mokuba's eyes lit up, and soon he was dragging Kaiba by the hand towards somewhere else in the house. "I got to this really hard level in my game I can't get past and I wanted to see if you could beat it, and I found this really cool video I wanted to show you, and I got a really good report card you never saw, and--" and months worth of pent up requests were tumbling out rapid fire, and Kaiba was smiling with affection and some amount of relief.

Loud and clingy, then, was the normal and expected behavior. The spirit of the ring made note of this, as he lie abandoned.

The ring was still sitting on a side table, in Mokuba's bedroom, apparently because no one knew what to with it or thought it mattered much. This was a problem. The spirit couldn't do anything without a host, and now everyone was suspicious, these stupid rich people worried too much and paid too much attention.

He was forced to sit there all night, pondering about how he was going to get out of this mess, when at one or two in the morning he observed Mokuba wake up, and rub his eyes, and hop out of bed. He did not turn the light on, but he did check the time, and reach under his bed to retrieve what appeared to be a small backpack. He took it with him as he moved quietly towards the door, and the spirit saw his chance.

Hey, kid. He was near enough to speak into his head. Maybe this wasn't a dead end.

"You!" Mokuba stopped in his tracks and looked right at the ring.

Yes, me. This could be salvaged, he thought, concocting a plan. This was a child. Play friendly ghost and imaginary friend. Surely it would not be hard to weasel himself into the good graces of a sixth grader.

Mokuba glared at the ring with suspicion. "I don't think Seto believed me when I said you could talk, but I knew it." He picked it up delicately by the string to examine.

Where on earth are you going at this time of night?

Mokuba was the current host, technically, so there was a connection, and 11 year olds are not particularly used to or adept at hiding their own thoughts, especially inside their own heads. The answer, if not in words but in abstract concept, was provided instantly as it bubbled to mind. He was going to the kitchen, as he did once or twice a week, not their personal kitchen but the house staff kitchen, where he would move a chair to stand on the counter to reach the very back of the highest shelf of the third cupboard to the left, which was where one of the cleaning staff kept a pile of chocolate so he could cheat on his diet without his wife knowing, a fact Mokuba knew through surreptitious eavesdropping. Mokuba's end was to steal just enough of it that he wouldn't be noticed, and add it to a stash of snacks and other shiny trinkets currently hidden in the bottom of a pile of legos in his closet.

...You steal food to hide in your closet? Why would a child who lived in a three-story mansion need to steal?

Mokuba was only mildly perturbed by the fact that someone had just read his mind. He was mainly curious, now. "Our dad didn't like junk food, so I always took stuff to keep around." he explained, "I guess I don't really have to anymore, 'cuz Seto will let me have whatever I want, but--" he faltered, unable to finish or give a reason.

There wasn't a reason, and Mokuba knew that. There was no need to sneak or stash or steal anymore, but he kept doing it, irrationally, for reasons that confused him, a complicated swirl of things a child could not name or understand but were very easy for the spirit to read. Fear; compulsion; habit; the illusion of safety; the sense that your life was precarious, unstable; a need to exert control over your surroundings. It was not the food or the stealing that mattered, but of the hiding, of having something they could not take away from him.

Mokuba didn't understand any of that, because he was 11 and 11 year olds don't understand why they do anything. He just knew he liked sweets and hated people telling him what to do and that having bags of chips and other people’s lost jewelry at the bottom of an old toybox made him feel better.

Can I come with you?

"No! You tried to take control of me!"

Yes, but you kicked me out, and you'd probably be able to do it again, so I would be stupid to try. I also like chocolate, you see, and it's very boring to be stuck here on your desk.

"Can you even eat? You're a necklace."

I can when I borrow a body.

"You tried to take over me so you could eat chocolate? I'm not stupid enough to believe that."

That and other things. I can't do very much at all, while stuck in the ring. No food, no sunshine, no running around. It's no fun to be without a body, which is why I am occasionally driven to steal one. Terribly sorry about that. he added, in his most pathetic-sounding tone, Please? I don't have anyone else to talk to.

Mokuba was hesitant, but clearly found the fact of his existence too interesting to ignore. "Fine." He picked up the ring and dropped it unceremoniously into his backpack, which had a dragon on it.

Not trust yet, but tolerance and curiosity. One step at a time.

You shouldn't go barefoot, you know. Socks will be quieter if you're trying not to get caught.

"I didn't ask you."

So Mokuba descended down the stairwell, in the dead quiet and dark of the Kaiba Mansion, with no flashlight because he knew it well enough to navigate blindfolded. The place was decadent in the ugly way rich people's houses were, luxury but without taste, soft carpets and gilded banisters.

Mokuba had not quite realized yet how to think at the ring, so he spoke in a low whisper. "What are you, anyway?"

A ghost. So much more complicated than that, but simple words were suitable for children.

"How'd you end up a ghost in a necklace?"

I died, and then someone put me in a necklace.

"That's not an answer." he followed up, "Do all dead people become ghosts?"

No. Just sometimes, maybe, if the way they died was especially violent or gruesome or terrible.

Mokuba frowned. He had caught on remarkably quickly to guarding his own head, but the spirit could tell he didn't like this answer.

This was delicate, but he risked a push. Was there someone you had in mind?

Mokuba said nothing. He reached the staff kitchen on the lowest floor, and opened the door, slow and careful. He was deciding whether to say anything, as he climbed up as quietly as he could and reached far into the back of the cupboard, scrabbling.

"Our dad killed himself last year. Jumped out a window." He finally said, hopping down with his spoils. He said this the same way one might dolefully report the milk had gone bad. Unfortunate but boring.

You don't sound very sad.

"Nah, he sucked. And he never liked me." he said, "Seto was really really upset though. He was pretending not to be, but I could tell." Now there were feelings there, big and weird and sad and clinging ones. For reasons the spirit could not discern, the simple phrase ‘Seto was upset’ carried with it more weight, a thousand million times more weight, than news of a father's tragic death by defenestration. "I hope he's not a ghost. I don't wanna see him again."

Probably not.

Mokuba sat down cross-legged on the kitchen floor, unwrapped candy in silver foil. "You really can't do anything from in the necklace? Like, ghost stuff? Make things float or anything?"

No. It is a bit like being trapped in a very small box.

Mokuba mulled this over for a little while. "If you wanted to borrow a body to do fun stuff, you could have just asked."

Really?

He nodded. "Not being able to eat chocolate sounds lame. It'd be mean to just leave you like that." He put one chocolate into his mouth and dumped the rest in the backpack, where they covered the ring unceremoniously. More indignities. "Not in front of my brother, though. And you have to give it back whenever I say so."

...I could agree to such a compromise. Your candy haul is impressive, by the way.

"Thanks!" He grinned, emanating genuine pride. No one had ever complimented him for stealing before.

Tragic, the work of great thieves. How the very best of it can never be bragged about, the most impressive of skills gone unnoticed by nature, how the very success of a perfect crime relies on keeping your mouth shut about it. An unappreciated art, where even mastery gains you no respect.

You don't care that this poor man has to go out and buy twice as much food to make up for what you steal?

"No, he's a jerk. One time when I was six they confiscated my gameboy, so I went to steal it back and he caught me and told my dad and I got in huge trouble. So every day for a week I snuck down here and moved his keys to a different place so he couldn't find them. They were all so mad at him for losing them all the time, and he thought he was crazy."

Why was your gameboy confiscated?

"Don't remember. I think I bit someone at school." he shrugged, "They probably deserved it, though."

Mokuba Kaiba. he said, I think you and I are going to be excellent friends.

"Okay. Do ghosts watch cartoons?"

#unsure if this is good enough to post to AO3 #but it was fun!

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weeinterpreter · 3 years

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Could u please write a fic of artemis dying again..? Pleaaaaaaaase i beg u .

He hadn’t thought of them in a long time, but that afternoon Artemis caught himself repeatedly, reminiscing about the two people that were absent in his life.

Juliet Butler had lost her hardest battle almost fifty years ago. The cancer had moved fast. So fast that she didn't even have time to say goodbye. Dear, old Butler never recovered. Alex liked to say that the loyal servant had died from a broken heart.

Artemis sat up, slowly, wincing. Alex was by his side in an instant, pushing a pillow further up.

"And that, despite my healthy lifestyle," Artemis joked, gasping for breath. Alex chuckled, the lines around his eyes growing deeper. A grey strand of hair fell over his forehead.

"You mean caviar and Earl Grey? How did you ever survive without me?" Alex asked, placing a wrinkly hand over Artemis's.

"How ever, indeed," Artemis murmured, examining the age spots on his hands. Their grip had weakened over the years. The arthritis had restricted Alex's movement, but they were still as warm as ever. "You know, I always expected Butler and me to die on a deserted island... or was it at the foot of a volcano? No, no, it was in an abandoned mine shaft. And Bach's... Mozart's Requiem would play in the background, stopping–"

"Stopping at the note, Mozart finished himself before dying?" Alex finished with a raise of his eyebrow. "How very melodramatic."

They shared a quiet laugh before Artemis became serious again.

"I'll be miserably lonely in Hell."

"Of course, you will," Alex said with a snort. "But I'll get you out and then we'll sneak up into Heaven and you start trafficking priceless angel memorabilia. As long as there are no staircases to climb."

Artemis laughed until he coughed violently. He wiped away the tears from his cheek with a trembling hand, and the two men sat in silence, listening to the birdsong outside the window. Almost like their personal little concert.

Suddenly, Artemis frowned. "What time is it?"

"2:23 in the afternoon," Alex said, almost apologetically. "I will say 'hi' to them for you."

Artemis nodded, relaxing. "Did I mention I am still de facto president of the People?"

"Only about 325 times, love," Alex said, rolling his eyes.

Both looked up to see their daughter and granddaughter entering. Roisin – her eyes red and swollen – stopped next to Alex, bending down to kiss first him, then Artemis on the cheek.

Meanwhile, Aisling climbed on the bed, hugging a doll to her chest and regarding Artemis for a long moment.

"Will you get better?"

Roisin's lips trembled, and she turned away, rushing to the window. Artemis waved his granddaughter closer.

"Unlikely," – he wheezed – "but I can tell you where I have hidden my secret fairy treasure."

Aisling's eyes went round.

"When I was about your age, I kidnapped a fairy and stole all her money."

"That's not very nice, is it?" Aisling asked, wrinkling her nose.

Smiling at the indignation in those big green eyes, Artemis shrugged. He didn't finish the story as his body shook with another coughing fit. Roisin lifted Aisling from the bed.

"Grandpa can tell you the story another time, darling," she said. "We'll let him nap for a moment, okay?"

Aisling waved them goodbye. Artemis weakly lifted his hand, but dropped it back on the cover.

"I’m tired."

Alex smiled, his eyes treacherously moist. "Rest. I can read you something, if you like?"

Artemis nodded and closed his eyes one last time.

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markleesthighs · 4 years

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omg i didn’t know you did male reader scenarios! i read the mark and jaemin scenarios you made and i love them!

i watched nct dream arm wrestle and thought of jaemin and jeno who are not idols were childhood friends and practically grew up together with y/n , but y/n who’s from a wealthy family moved away when he was 9 years old to go to a prestige school then he came back 10 years later now they turn everying into a competition, trying to impress y/n with their strength, like carrying y/n’s luggage, where they both do uncessary things just to show their strength and even having somesort of cocky bicep and flexing competition? hope it gets to you! thank you! :D:D:D

-aw yeah! I love writing ones that help include everyone! I’m glad you enjoyed it! This concept is cool thanks for sending it in!

Ten years. After ten years you are finally returning to your hometown. You missed your old friends Jeno and Jaemin. You grew up with them since birth, being an iconic trio throughout elementary school. However your parents didn’t think you were living up to the standards of your family, so they moved to Paris, where you could focus on your education at a preparatory school. Your parents removed their numbers from your phone, not wanting you to cry over spilled milk. They also wanted you to focus on becoming valedictorian, which everyone in your family was. You did become valedictorian and got into a prestigious law school overseas in America. You were coming back to your hometown because your grandparents lived in your old home, and your family wanted you to come back for the holidays.

You were on your private jet plane ride, worried about seeing your old friends. They lived down the block from your old house so you wouldn’t be shocked if they decided to visit you. Little did you know your parents called them up to pick you up from the plane, as a nice surprise. You stepped out of the plane to see two handsome men waiting for you. You didn’t know who they were until you saw them smile, it was Jeno and Jaemin?? They were taller, more handsome, and very muscular. You noticed Jeno dyed his hair blonde while Jaemin dyed it a light brown. Jeno and Jaemin didn’t know what to think of you. You were no longer a kid that sold mud pies, you were a grown adult that made four figures in one sitting.

You hugged both of them and they strangely smelled good. Jeno grabbed your handbag as Jaemin walked to to the limo holding your hand and opening the door for you. They quickly came to sit down next to you on both sides eagerly asking you questions wanting to catch up.

“How’s was Paris?”

“Is living in the states hard?”

“How’s school?”

“Has your fashion sense changed?”

“How many guys have asked you out?”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“I think we should go shopping y/n!”

“No, no, no let’s take y/n out to eat she must be starving!”

“Guys, guys! I just want to rest, it’s been a long flight for me.” You yawned as you rested on Jaemin’s shoulder.

You couldn’t see or hear it but Jeno and Jaemin were silently fighting at each other. Jeno wanted to move you on to his shoulder so you wouldn’t get a strained neck, while Jaemin wanted to keep you there, not wanted to disturb your slumber. Once you arrived at your old house, Jaemin tapped you awake as they both helped you out of the limo. As you got out they rushed to the trunk to help with your luggage, rushing to see who could carry the most. It looked like it was straight out of a cartoon, scrambling to beat each other. (jokes on them because you brought about ten bags)

As they were having their little feud you walked up to the door bell to be greeted by the butler who saw Jeno and Jaemin racing up the stairs with your luggage. Jeno screamed

“I won! Did you see that y/n?!”

“I did, very impressive.” You said in a sarcastic tone. You weren’t shocked by this behavior as you would watch Jeno and Jaemin race on baseball fields after little league practice.

The butler then called the maids to bring your luggage to your room and invited you all into the house. Your home looked exactly the way you left it, still perfectly polished and a few new plants here and there. You all walked into the living room to see your grandparents and your mother and father. You parents greeted all of you as you went to give your grandparents gifts you bought for her overseas (it was Rolex watches). You all sat down and chatted for a bit. Your father would grill you on your education while your mom would ask you if you’re looking to date and how she can set you up with one of her friends sons. Your parents invited Jeno and Jaemin for dinner which they agreed to, because they always remembered how good your family’s dinners are.

You excused yourself to go to your room to changed out of your airplane clothes and Jeno and Jaemin followed like little puppies. They joined you in the elevator up to your room, on the seventh floor. You saw maids putting the final touches on your room as they left seeing the trio enter. Jeno and Jaemin idly kept following you into your walk in closet. They looked at all your designer clothing from custom made pieces to basic sweatpants.

You grabbed your Burberry hoodie, Versace pants, and Gucci slippers as you walked to change, you saw Jeno and Jaemin still relaxing in your room.

“Guys, I’m going to change, no peeking you pervs.”

You said as you closed the door to your closet. You changed into your new, comfortable clothes, throwing the older ones into the hamper. Little did you know Jeno and Jaemin were peaking through a crack in the door. Mischievous Jeno found the crack and Jaemin and him were fighting over to catch a glimpse of you. They only saw your bare back but they still fought over taking times looking. They saw you walking to the door as they ran to pretend they were laying on the bed playing on their phones. You joined them on the bed wanting to fall asleep. Jaemin pet your hair as Jeno rubbed your back. You were interrupted from your daze by the PA system in the house calling you down for dinner. You groaned as you all got up to have dinner.

Jaemin rushed to the table to open and push in your seat for you as Jeno sat down next to you. Jaemin sat down on the other side of you smiling at you, anticipating the meal.

“Tonight we have an Alaskan wild caught king salmon with a lemon beurre blanc sauce, gold flakes, a truffle drizzle, and matsutake mushrooms. For your appetizers we have a platter with caviar along with some seared wagyu steak and foie gras, enjoy.”

You licked your lips, missing your expensive cuts of food, no longer eating Mcdonald’s every other day. You saw Jeno and Jaemin drool looking at the food, which you thought was cute.

“Can someone pass the bread please?” You asked

Jeno and Jaemin grabbed the basket at the same time and they were fighting over who should give you bread. Eventually Jaemin won, distracting Jeno saying that your mom was calling him. You thanked him as Jeno pouted angrily continuing to eat. Jeno knew you loved wagyu so he gave you extra feeding it to you. Jaemin, wanting your attention, also gave you his wagyu feeding it to you. Then the salmon came. It was beautifully presented to all of you, you all ate in in an instant. Jeno and Jaemin giggled at your eager eating. Dessert was some fruit, wanting to have a light and healthy dessert for everyone.

After everyone was excused from their meals, the three of you stayed in the living room raving about the meal. It led to Jeno and Jaemin fighting about who was stronger. Wanting to prove their mouths, they wanted to have an arm wrestling competition. They asked you about what the prize was for winning. You jokingly said a kiss but they surprisingly agreed.

They began by flexing their muscles and you weren’t going to lie, you were drooling a bit over both of them. You watched as they held their hands together and began to wrestle, best two out of three. They went back and forth but not touching the table, you were worried they were going to break the glass table if one of them lost. First winner was Jeno, second time around it was Jaemin, so it all came down to this final match. As Jaemin appeared to be winning Jeno pulled his strength over him and won. He got up jumping around the living room as you comforted Jaemin.

Jeno then smirked looking at you wanting to claim his prize. You walked over to him and pecked his lips. He collapsed to the floor shy. You saw Jaemin look disappointed so you walked over and gave him a peck as well and he just froze. You sat on the couch waiting for them to respond to you.

“So...”

“So, y/n...what now...”

“Are you guys that dense?”

“huh?”

“I love both of you idiots, I thought you guys knew that,”

“We know you love us but...like love us? Like a boyfriend?”

“You could say it like that, I’m sure my parents wouldn’t be shocked if I started dating both of you, to them it means more wealth and more powerful heirs. But to me, it means I get to have double the fun” you said with a wink.

“That also means double the trouble” Jaemin said as Jeno and Jaemin kissed both your cheeks.

You grabbed the both of them to walk to the elevator where you went to your room. You changed into your pajamas and let Jaemin and Jeno borrow some of your clothes (after begging, and wanting their clothes to smell like you). You all cuddled up in your king-sized bed with Jeno on your left and Jaemin on your right. You began watching tv as you fell asleep with Jeno and Jaemin admiring you in your slumber, peaceful in both their arms.

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pluto-art · 4 years

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Syncytium - Chapter 3

Title: Syncytium - Chapter 3 - Sodium Bicarbonate Words: 7,115 Rating: T

Fan Fiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13712482/3/Syncytium

As always, I recommend the fan fiction version, which includes all italics. Other than that, enjoy the full story below the cut!

September 16th, 1993 - 11:48 PM

Two little feet raced pitter-patter down a chatter-filled hallway in A.C.M.E. Arts & Sciences, its occupant laden with pen and petition, eagerly calling out to any hapless individual that came her way as that ever-present tam-o-shanter bounced atop her head.

"Signatures! Come put down your signatures! Sign the petition! Bring baseball back to A.C.M.E.!" Olivia called out, her little jingle ringing in its thick Scottish accent down the corridor and bouncing off the walls. "Baseball for all! Hear you shout! Let them know or we'll strike out!"

Like a fuzzy brown bullet she shot through the school, passing students and teachers, janitors and gym instructors, nearly running into the wall on two occasions, and receiving a sharp reprimand of "Watch it!" or "Land sakes!" from those whose book pages and scarves she ruffled on her flight down the hallways.

"Let your voice be heard! Put your name down! Have a- OOF!"

Olivia gasped as she landed on the hard, linoleum floor, having been knocked back by something tall and firm. She shook her head and looked up... and up... and up, into the stern face of Basil, teacher of Advanced Science and Deduction. Even for a mouse he was rather lanky, towering above Globetrotter and practically a giant to Olivia. The only other mouse in the school who reached his height was Pinky. He glared at her, one eyebrow cocked in silent judgement as he peered down from above, a great slab of papers cradled snugly against his side.

"Oh...," Olivia mumbled, gulping as she quickly stood up, face scrunching, and shook off her clothes, her little tam-o-shanter and petition laying very sorrowfully at her feet.

Basil sighed.

"Young lady," he began, bending down to pick up her hat and place it securely back on her head. "This is the third time this week we've met under unnecessarily chaotic circumstances and it's become... rather an interference in my daily schedule. Would you kindly keep harnessed certain frivolities at play, Miss Flabbergast?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Basil," Olivia muttered shyly, and not unkindly. "I'll be more careful."

She picked her clipboard with petition up off the floor, a little embarrassed.

"Sign my petition...?" she ventured, holding up the paper for Basil to see. He bent down to get a closer look at it.

"What's this for?" he asked.

"It's for a baseball stadium!"

"Baseball stadium?"

"Yes!" Olivia said, nodding excitedly. "So we can get sports back to the school!"

"Sports?" Basil nipped, practically spitting out the word as though it was a nasty slur. "Miss Flim-Flam, the last thing this university of science and culture needs is a bunch of dimwitted degenerates galloping about chasing after a ball. You'd do better to abandon the whole matter, in my opinion."

Olivia hung her head.

"But I doubt it will amount to anything," he continued, picking lint off his cardigan in a snooty fashion. "The most you could hope for is ten signatures, at least. Continue on your hapless venture if you must."

"Really?!"

"Yeeees yes yes. Now, run along."

"Thank you, Mr. Basil! I'll get more than ten. You'll see!"

"Jolly good," Basil replied curtly, sarcastically, pausing to flick a piece of dirt off Olivia's jacket. "Good day to you."

Olivia watched him as he went, his long shoes snapping click, click, click against the floor. She drew out a long breath of utter relief. Basil was fairer than Globetrotter. Anyone was fairer than Globetrotter. However, he still could get a bit cross when rubbed the wrong way, and it certainly wasn't the first time she'd gotten on his irritable side. She'd have to be more careful.

And so, as she continued her trek down the school hallways, calling out as she went (a bit more quietly this time), she jogged rather than sprinted, slipping between passerby with an "Excuse me" or "Pardon" and taking extra precaution not to bump into any more teachers, especially Globetrotter...

"Petition! Come you all and sign! Redefine!"

Maisy tossed Olivia an annoyed glance as she ran past, huffing a little and flipping back her hair as she dug through her locker.

"Since when did the principle allow kids to run around the school? I didn't think he'd be cool with that," she muttered.

Next to her, a chocolate-furred mouse leaned against his adjacent locker, deep in silent conversation as he texted rapidly on his phone.

"Why do you care?" he asked, not looking up at her.

"I dunno. It's just... This is like... a high-profile university, right? There shouldn't be any kids."

"We're kids."

"Um... Excuse me. I'm like... nineteen."

"Yeah. That's young, Maisy."

"Whatever," she spat, flicking her hair back again as she found what she was looking for: a red pencil with yellow flower print slapped all over it.

"Olivia is Flaversham's daughter," Gadget spoke from across the hall at her own locker, snapping her bulbous goggles atop her head as a matter-of-fact. "Everyone knows that." Tillie nodded next to her.

"Okay, but, like...," Maisy continued, pulling out a journal and tucking it under her arm, "... he works. When does he have time to watch her? He just lets her run around the school?"

"Well, isn't Mrs. Judson her nanny?" Tillie offered helpfully, albeit rather quietly. "I think that-"

Several students sprinted by. Tillie paused to let them pass before continuing.

"I think that she watches her in the nurse's office most of the day and lets her run errands."

"Yeah, but-," Maisy began, before being cut off herself as another batch of students trundled by, and then another. "But that doesn't give her leave to just-" More students. "To just run around whenever she-" Even more students. By this point, she could barely even see Gadget and Tillie. "Oh my gosh! I hate not having neighboring lockers!"

"It's lunchtime, Maisy," the male mouse said beside her, closing his phone with a sharp snap. "We should get going."

"Ugh. Fine. I'm starving anyway."

And so off they went, quartet heading for the cafeteria at the prompt hour of 12:00 PM, taking care not to bump into anyone as they entered the huge room.

Unlike the rest of the school, this area was terribly outdated. Or, rather, it had none of the classiness that the majority of the facility offered. Far from being dressed up in a mahogany coat, with comfortable seating, double-pane windows, and classical music that pumped itself like oxygen through the more casual areas of the building, the cafeteria resembled nothing less than something vomited out of an 80s shopping mall. The blue and purple paneling; the flashing neon food signs; the Whitney Houston music trapped perpetually within the speakers. It had it all. Students called it "The Flashback" or "The Blot", depending on who you talked to. The space had been heavily renovated a decade ago in an attempt to reflect the aesthetic at the time, and if the principal in office hadn't been ousted at the time for his radical ways the facility may very well have looked quite different by this point. As it stood, the cafeteria was an eye sore for some, a breath of fresh air for others, and it was a popular spot in which to congregate. If nothing else, the music was a relief. There was only so much Chopin one could take.

Chatter filled the dining area as the quartet entered. Already the tables were filling up, the smell of pizza and dumplings heavy in the air. Once upon a time, the food had reflected the decor: posh, healthy, and expensive. And then, of course, the cafeteria had been renovated, and with it the menu. No one had ever bothered to change the hot dogs back to ham; the grilled cheese back to caviar. Lemon sherbet tasted much better than shitake, and the students liked it that way.

"Think they're gonna have the jelly sauce again today?" Gadget asked, standing up on tip-toe to peer over at the food counter.

"Ew. Gosh. I hope not. That stuff is gro- HO MY GOSH," gasped Maisy.

"What?" Gadget asked, looking around, eyes wide. She hoped another wasp hadn't broken into the cafeteria again. Two had welcomed themselves in in the last week and she didn't think she could handle the stress another day.

"He's here," Maisy stressed, clutching at her heart and grabbing hold of Gadget's shoulder rather tightly.

Tillie and Gadget followed her gaze all the way across the floor to the food bar. There stood Pinky, dressed today in lab pants and a blue and gray striped shirt whose sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Had it not been for the ridiculously long white lab pants that spilled over his shoes, Gadget thought he might have looked rather fetching. As it stood, though, he didn't. Maisy thought otherwise.

"Ugh. He's so hot."

"So hot he melts your brains?" the male mouse quipped, back to texting on his phone.

Maisy shot him a nasty look. Tillie didn't even notice.

"Wow. Clam chowder special," she mused, completely serious as she stared, astonished, at the counter.

"You're focusing on the food?!" Maisy exclaimed, flabbergasted. Tillie remained oblivious.

"Oh, I hope Mrs. Brisby isn't too early today. I rather like lunch break...," Tillie mused, loosening her shawl a little.

"But you also like her classes," said Gadget, smiling.

"I do. They're fun."

"Learning about weeds is fun?" asked Maisy.

"Agriculture is more interesting than you think it would be! You should try it sometime. It's fun!"

"Tillie, the only fun thing about this school is the lunch break."

The dark-furred he mouse with them rolled his eyes, his hands in his pockets.

"Seriously, Maisy? Not even the Chemistry class is interesting?" he mentioned, incredulous.

"Okay, well, that is a little bit interesting..."

The he mouse sighed.

"You're incredible. Our parents are paying good money for this school. You should be grateful. Come on. Let's stake a seat."

A few tables down, a gaggle of mice, moles, and a rat or two sat, chattering loudly. One of them, a black-haired mouse in a frilly, once-piece dress, sash around the middle and dark hair tied up in a bun, stood up in her chair and waved in their direction.

"Maaaaaaisy, girl! Come on! We've been waiting for you!"

"GIIIIRL! I was just about to ditch these losers! Gimme a sec!" Maisy called back, beaming. "Sorry, guys. I gotta go."

"Wha-..? But I thought we were gonna-" the male mouse began, taken aback.

"Sorry, Dex. I forgot I'd promised Marvell I'd be here at noon. We'll catch up later, I promise. Okay?"

"Yeah. Sure...," Dex shrugged dejectedly.

"Thanks, Dex. Bye, y'all!" said Maisy, and she ran off to join the loquacious group.

"Bye, loser!" Gadget joked back, shaking her head. "Airhead."

"Remind me why we hang out with her again?" Tillie asked, as the remaining three headed for the food bar.

Gadget shrugged.

"She's been my friend since middle school. I'd feel weird just ditching her."

"You wouldn't be missing much," Dex muttered, although there was a hesitancy in his voice.

Gadget threw him a sideways glance as she grabbed a tray, Tillie and Dex following suit.

"You know that's not true, Dex. She's a bit into herself, but you know she loves you."

Dex shrugged.

One by one, a steady line of students at the bar filed past the counter, picking off a box of salad here, a cup of macaroni there. Things reached a stand still at the chili bowl. Dex and Gadget stood up on tip-toe for a couple seconds, flattened back out on their feet, stared at each other, and rolled their eyes, sniggering. But of course...

The hold up, as per the norm, was Pip, one of the restaurant hands and the only chipmunk in the entire school. He was terribly chatty, not to mention contentious if you dared complain about any aspect of the food. Either something was wrong and he needed to comment on it, or someone he recognized as a friend had just crossed his path. Judging by the chipper tone of his voice, Gadget guessed it was the latter today.

"So what's with this petition? Lemme see that paper, sister!"

And he whipped from someone's hand a petite clipboard entrusted with several sheets of lined paper. He read through it quickly, nose almost touching the paper.

Gadget, Dex, and Tillie peered around the crowd ahead of them to see who had handed him the paper. Oh. Naturally.

There stood Olivia, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet as Pip perused her petition, a wide, expectant smile on her face. Was there no place she wouldn't invade?

"Hmmm," Pip mused, tapping his foot a mile a minute as his keen eyes roved over the paper one more time. "Weeeeeeell, I don't usually sign these things, buuuuut... baseball sounds like a worthy cause. Ya' got a pen?"

"Here you go!" Olivia squeaked happily, extracting from the inside of her coat pocket a blue pen and offering it to Pip. He took it swiftly and signed the petition just as fast.

"Just make sure you get me a position as umpire!" Pip said, handing her back the petition and pen.

"Oh, I will! Thank you!"

"Say, uhhhh... how many signatures you got on that thing so far?"

"Twenty-three!"

"Heeeeeey. That's not bad!"

"Come on, Pip!" a student piped up, brows furrowed.

"Yeah, we've got class!" a girl vole squeaked from behind the trio.

"All right, all right already! Sheesh!" Pip nipped back, rolling his eyes. "Hey. You keep gettin' those John Hancocks, okay?" he said, winking at Olivia.

"Um... Okay!"

And with that, she was off, not even bothering to grab an apple or a cracker, something that others cast glances at her for. Olivia passing up an opportunity to nab some food? She must mean business...

"She's so cute," Gadget mused, watching Olivia sprint around, on the hunt for more signatures, as she moved up a couple steps in line.

"Yeah," Dex said, arms folded. "She's a trip." Despite himself, he smiled after her. Little kids amused him sometimes, even if they could be a bit pesky underfoot.

As more students spilled into the cafeteria, fingers pointed, some quite shamelessly, in the direction of the food bar. Dex followed the invisible lines to a spot some paces behind them in line. But of course. They were all directed at the new teacher, Ronald Pinkus. The girls seemed particularly smitten, giggling and whispering and acting, in Dex's mind, perfectly idiotic. In fact, come to think of it, as he looked about the room, most of the girls were in deep conversation, their eyes trained on the same subject in the room, including Maisy's group. He shook his head. This was a university, not a middle school. Daftness came in all ages, he supposed.

"What?" Gadget queried, taking notice of the furrowed brow and the folded arms.

"Nothing," Dex muttered, shuffling forward a few paces as the line moved ahead. Both he and Gadget grabbed a plate of chocolate cake.

Gadget looked back at the new teacher and snickered.

"Don't let it get to you."

"She's just as bad as everyone else."

"Who? Maisy?"

"Yeah..."

Gadget shrugged.

"It's probably just a phase. Next week she'll fall for Basil again or someone."

Trays full, they set off to find a table. Tillie waved at them from a corner. They headed towards her.

"I dunno. I kinda...," Dex began, then stopped as they reached the table, sitting down with their trays. Tillie was already deep in her bowl of clam chowder.

"You what?" Gadget asked as she pulled her chair up.

"It's... whatever."

"What?"

Dex picked up his spoon, swirled it around in his own bowl of clam chowder, then set it down. Screw it. He grabbed his fork and dug into the chocolate cake instead.

"I miss when we used to hang out more."

"What are we talking about now?" Tillie asked, only half-interested.

No one said anything right away. Gadget picked at her sunflower seed salad for a minute, then spoke.

"You're her brother. She'll come back around eventually."

Dex shrugged again. He was about to shove another large piece of chocolate cake into his mouth when something lightly bumped his elbow. He turned and looked down. It was Olivia.

"Sign my petition?" she asked, her little whiskers upturned in a wide smile.

Dex couldn't help but mirror that infectious grin. In the distance, something... someone... caught his eye. It was Maisy. She frowned at him and shook her head. Dex frowned back. He took the clipboard and pen from Olivia's outstretched paws.

"You know what? Sure, kid. Baseball, right?"

"Uh-huh! We're going to have a mascot again, too! I hope..."

He handed her back the clipboard and pen and ruffled her hair, or, rather, the top of her tam-o-shanter.

"Break a leg, kid."

"Thank you!" she beamed, and off she went.

Dex smiled. In the background, Maisy shook her head. Dex snapped his fingers and winked, finger-gunning her. She rolled her eyes and went back to talking to her friends.

"Ugh. He's such a tease," complained Maisy to her company, twirling a strand of her long, golden hair as she sipped soda through a straw.

"He just cares about other people. Heck, I signed her petition," the black-furred mouse said. "How come you never hang out with your brother anymore? He's been lookin' kinda sad..."

"He's not even my real brother, Marvell. He's just my half-brother. You know that. Do we look like we're related?"

"But y'all used to be so close! What happened?"

Maisy shrugged.

"I dunno. We just... shifted."

"Don't you mean 'drifted'?" offered up a boy rat next to her.

"Whatever," Maisy shrugged. "Anyway, what do you guys think of him?" she smirked, jerking her head in the direction of Pinky still in line at the food bar.

All at the table turned their heads to look at him. He seemed to be picking out quite an odd assortment of foods: a hot dog, two cups of custard, and several pieces of cheese - just cheese. Every person that passed him a "hello" he greeted with a chipper "Good morning!", and his attitude towards the servers was polite and enthusiastic. Those around him couldn't seem to keep the smiles off their faces. Even the students generally known to be more reserved or stuck up couldn't help but throw him a curious glance. He was, for lack of a better term, "sunshine-y".

The boy rat popped several corn puffs in his mouth, his dry expression unchanged.

"He's kind of a twink, isn't he?"

Maisy slapped him on the shoulder playfully.

"He is not!"

"Dude. Come on..."

"He's not that young," Marvell said, filing her nails as another of their group, a white mouse in a red shirt and with a yellow sash tied about his neck, came and sat down beside her, a cup full of fizzy raspberry water tottering dangerously on the edge of his tray. "He is kinda cute, though..."

The white mouse set down his tray carefully... but not carefully enough. Slip went the cup, the mouse grabbing it before its contents could spill out entirely.

"AH!" Marvell yelped, jumping a little. "Stuart, that's the second time this week!"

"Oh, dear. I'm so sorry, Marvell!" the little mouse said, apologizing profusely as he skittered off towards the food bar. "I'll go get some napkins!"

"Awww, man. I just washed this," lamented Marvell, picking up a corner of her frilly blue frock, now tainted with fizz. "Well... At least it's just water. I can work with this, right? Looks kinda... sassy?"

The boy rat sat up, the better to look at Marvell's new fashion statement. The water had painted the rounded edges of one side of the dress. It could have passed for an interesting pattern if one squinted hard enough.

"Yeah, sure. You could pass it off as the new look," he suggested, smiling.

"Hm," Marvell replied, smirking as she sat back down, ringing out the dress edge.

Maisy didn't seem the least bit phased.

"I think he's kinda hot," she said, eyelashes fluttering as she sipped at her soda noisily.

"Hotter than Globetrotter?" sniggered the boy rat.

"Okay, Globetrotter's in his own league. Okay? I can never compete with that."

"Ummm...," Marvell mumbled, covering her mouth in a vain attempt to hide her embarrassed smile as she pointed to a figure behind Maisy's back.

"What?" Maisy asked, craning around slightly to look before swiftly turning back 'round in her seat again, shoulder hunched as she visibly blushed. "Oh my gosh," she whispered, burying her face in her hands.

The boy rat beside her could barely hide his laughter as Globetrotter walked past them, his nose deep in a very thick, very red, and very heavy-looking book. Had he actually been paying attention to their conversation Maisy might have had more reason to involuntarily add a bit of color to her cheeks. As it stood, however, he had not, and so continued towards the bar, oblivious to the fact that he was now fifth in line behind Pinky.

"That's astounding!" Pinky exclaimed, tray of food all but forgotten as he leaned across a glass awning in front of him, totally invested in Pip's latest story. "But... how were you able to keep the syrup layer from separating?"

"Oh, that's easy!" Pip replied, and on and on he went.

Two students ahead of Pinky peered back, interested. Others behind him simply chuckled... or tapped their foot impatiently. To Globetrotter it was complete gibberish. The culinary arts was a branch he rarely dabbled in unless absolutely necessary. Although I do make a mean rigatoni, he thought to himself before shaking his head disgustedly. Where the heck did that come from? He was supposed to be engulfed in Brownian Motion and Stochastic Calculus, but, as it stood, he found his attention inexplicably pulled towards a much... lesser subject. It was unfathomable how anyone could be so intrigued by such mundane topics as the properties of pancakes and how effectively one might prepare them, but the fanaticism with which his coworker now described it was almost... infectious. Nevertheless, Globetrotter frowned as he checked his watch. 12:18 PM. They were wasting precious time. He was wasting his precious time.

"Will you move along already!" he called out, voice peppered with vexation. "I've got class in twenty-seven minutes!"

"Oh! So sorry!" Pinky called back, paws quickly grabbing hold of his tray once more. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Pip. Good luck with your pancakes!"

"Same to you, my good man!" Pip squeaked back. "What a pleasant fellow," he muttered to himself, smiling as Pinky walked off towards the refreshments bar, laden with food.

Globetrotter huffed and moved forward, grabbing a single bowl of fruit and a cup of cottage cheese on his way down. As he passed the pasta section, he paused, reached out a hesitant paw towards a plate of spaghetti, then quickly snapped it back, sighing and frowning sadly as he moved on to the refreshments, grabbing a banana on his way over and angrily slapping it down on his tray.

He stopped beside Pinky, who was humming and pouring himself some English Breakfast tea. Globetrotter huffed again. Flavored water - a poor man's excuse for caffeine. How anyone could drink that stuff was beyond him. He went for the coffee, pulled down the carafe lever... and grumbled. Empty.

"Is there any place in this building that can afford a mouse a decent cup of coffee?!" he whined, popping his empty cup back onto the others.

"Oh, that's a shame there, isn't it? Have you tried the tea, Brain?" Pinky offered helpfully, as he popped a lid on his own steaming cup.

"I refuse to bow my knee to such a lowbrow form of refreshment," Globetrotter bit back, picking up his tray. "And it's Brian, you nincompoop."

"Well, how do you know you don't like it if you don't try it? Poit!" Pinky replied, unfazed by the retort.

"If I liked it I'd drink it. Good day to you."

And off he went, choosing a spot as far back in the room as possible, Pinky sadly watching him as he picked out a table devoid of occupants. Pinky looked back at the empty coffee cup, a light whimper escaping him as he stared at it dolefully. He turned back to focus on Globetrotter, who was once more lost in his big red book. Students who sat nearby gave him as wide of a berth as they could. Pinky's ears drooped. What a sad little man, he thought. But it wasn't long before they perked back up again. Why, yes. Of course! Beaming, he set his tray down at an occupied table ("Watch this for me, will you?"), and rushed out of the cafeteria, leaving several students at the table to stare after him, puzzled.

Flip. Globetrotter turned a page of his massive tome, popping a grape in his mouth and crunching down on it satisfactorily. Flip, flip, flip. He looked to his right. A girl mouse sat nearby, also buried in a book. A huge pink bow sat atop her head. He recognized her. She was one of his students. Teresa, her name was, if he recalled correctly. She was one of his brighter subjects, but struggled with the occasional mathematical theory. As it was, her nose practically brushed the pages of a book that Globetrotter recognized by sight alone: Calculus by Gilbert Strang. Teresa sighed deeply, her unironed brow effectively relaying her frustration. She looked up... and jumped a little as she noticed Globetrotter staring at her, a light pink almost the exact color of her bow kissing her cheeks. Globetrotter slowly ducked back into his own texts, his peripheral vision catching Teresa shifting her seat over a notch in embarrassment.

A paw reached out to grab for his coffee, and he looked up when it touched nothing. Right. No coffee... Sighing, he popped another grape in his mouth, biting into it rather harder than necessary. Nearby, at another table, several students whispered.

"Did you find out what he teaches?" a girl vole asked, her question laced with ardor.

"Yup. He teaches Trozology," replied a male rat next to her, a pair of thick headphones hung about his neck.

"What the heck is that?" voiced another female rodent at their table, a cream-furred mouse decked out in purple - purple shirt; purple pants; purple socks; purple everything.

"I dunno," the rat shrugged. "Sounds kinda cool, though."

Globetrotter frowned. His ears twitched as tinkling laughter echoed from another table beside him.

"I knooooooow. He's so cute!" chuckled a rosy pink-eared mouse. She spoke in a barely-contained whisper along with the rest of her group, all of which sported bulky backpacks laid out on their table and decorated with all sorts of patches, stickers, and keychains. "I hope I can get a spot in his class!"

"I think he still has slots open!" one of her friends, a field rat, spoke up. "As far as I know, though, no one's actually signed up."

"Whyyyyyy? He's adorable! I'm gonna sign up just so I can stare at that face every day," a girl hamster said.

"What if you don't even like the class?" the second friend spoiled. "Maybe it's a dud. And we don't really have time in our schedules for another course..."

They all paused sadly and contemplatively at this. Then the first girl perked up.

"Well, I guess we'll get him all to ourselves then. If no one else likes the class then we'll stay just for the teacher!"

"Yeah, until every other girl does the same thing. You know we're not the only ones with the hots for him," the hamster said, taking a swig from her soda bottle.

"Well, then I guess we'll just have to fight for him," smiled the rat nonchalantly as she picked at her nails.

"Fight for him?!" yelped the other girls, covering their mouths at their loudness. "Oh my gosh. Seriously?!"

"Yeah! Anyone who comes up, we'll tell 'em to meet us at the park at two. No knives. Just like... nail clippers and hair curlers or something..."

"No no! Wait! We tell them to meet us at the baseball stadium!" offered the hamster, soda pop forgotten.

"You mean the one Olivia's petitioning?" the girl mouse asked. "It's not even built yet!"

"Yeah, but when it is we can tell them to meet there!"

"Winner gets dibs. They get to call first date," said the rat.

"And the loser has to pay for the dinner tab."

"Yeah!"

"Oh my gosh, you guys are so funny," the mouse chuckled.

They all laughed gaily.

Globetrotter's frown deepened, his mouth hanging open, another grape suspended in mid-air. Was Pinkus really... that popular? He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the conversations now swimming about his consciousness, when yet another light exchange, a distant one this time, caught his ears.

"... thinking of actually dropping Globetrotter's class to take that Ronald guy's one. It's just as many credits. Probably way more fun."

Globetrotter gulped. He tried reading a sentence in his book, only to find that he kept gracing the same words over and over and over again. Blast it. He couldn't concentrate. He plopped the book down on the table and went to devouring his cottage cheese, all around him oblivious to the private war going on in his mind.

Why do you care what they think? They're kids. They're idiots.

Yes, and have you forgotten what happened when Basil came to the school two years ago? They went gah-gah over him, too.

They didn't all abandon my class!

Nooooo, but half of them did. And Basil taught a required course at the time. Same as yours. They all went for his. He was much more interesting than you.

That's neither here nor there! I'm still employed, aren't I? My class is still sought after.

For now, and only because it's required. This new guy is significantly more popular. What if his class becomes required? What if it's worse than before? What if you become... old hat?

"No!" Globetrotter yelled, out loud. Half the cafeteria paused to stare at him. He sunk in his seat a little. How embarrassing...

In mock resoluteness, he grabbed the book before him and went back to reading. But he was only truly pretending to read, the bright crimson covers a pathetic excuse for a hole in which the frightened mouse hid.

The truth was that, despite his behavior being anything but amicable, his notorious reputation in the school had garnered him something akin to a celebrity status over the years. The course was required, certainly, even though he wasn't the only teacher who taught it, but the struggle to survive the rigorous schedule and harsh grading system he doled out had become a flat out challenge to the students. How long could you last? Would you manage to nab the ever elusive 'A' during a semester? One pupil even became famous for handing out "I Survived Globetrotter's Class" t-shirts. They hated the teacher, but reveled in the challenge. It was something that Globetrotter became ironically comfortable with over the years. Being notorious was better than not being noticed at all. He couldn't abide the thought of being second fiddle; of falling into obscurity. He'd never had reason to be concerned about it for seventeen years, even during Basil's "reign", but now...? Now he had legitimate competition. In all his years at A.C.M.E. Arts & Sciences, he'd never known an instructor so heavily discussed, so quixotic, so beloved, even on the very first day of his employment. Pinky was new and different, in all the wrong ways to him, yet in all the right ways to the students. And it terrified him.

On a sudden whim, he whipped out a pen from his inside jacket pocket and wrote feverishly on a napkin in front of him. He didn't see the tall figure approach him.

"Hello, Brain!"

Globetrotter practically leapt out of his skin.

"AH! Wh-... You..! Don't... do that!" he remarked, hastily stuffing the napkin and pen back into his coat pocket. He clutched at his heart, taking deep breaths as he rested his head in his palm.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Brain!" poor Pinky replied, resting a hand on Globetrotter's back comfortingly. Globetrotter shrugged it off, literally.

"And don't touch me! I just... h-had this... p-pressed," Globetrotter snapped, still catching his breath. "Who knows where your... paws have... been..."

"Oh, well, they haven't been far, Brain. They're always at my side! Ha-ha!"

Globetrotter cocked an eyebrow up at him, speechless. There was no way anyone could be this inordinately stupid.

"Mind if I join you?" Pinky asked, all innocence, that perpetually sunny smile never leaving his face.

"As I matter, of fact, I-"

"Oh, thank you!" Pinky initiated, grabbing a chair and pulling it close up to Globetrotter. Too close for his comfort. Apparently, personal space was something of a foreign concept to this character. "You know, I don't usually eat in public. Don't want to miss The Brady Bunch, you know? Hm hm. But it's rather nice out here! I might come and sit with you more often."

Heaven forbid, Globetrotter thought, ears reddening.

"Would you kindly refrain from mentioning that abomination of a tv show in my presence? It sickens me. And I don't appreciate your unnaturally close proximity."

"Come again?" Pinky asked, cocking his head.

"Move," Globetrotter said, managing, with difficulty, to push Pinky and the chair he sat in over an inch.

"Well, you could have just asked," Pinky chuckled, still smiling. He complied, scooting his chair a couple more inches away from Brain.

"Thank you," bit Globetrotter, turning away from Pinky and directing his attention back to the giant tome in front of him. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like a little privacy."

"Oh, but, I came to give you something!" Pinky exclaimed, and Globetrotter, despite himself, shiftily looked over as the lanky mouse dug in his pants pocket for... something. "A-ha! Here ya' go!"

And he handed him... a teabag? No. Not a teabag. It was too big to be a teabag.

Globetrotter took it from him tentatively, two fingers holding it away from his body as if it might explode.

"What is it?"

"Chicory root! I just thought that, well, when you couldn't find any coffee it reminded me of my mum. She used to be a big coffee drinker, too. She stopped recently, but she still missed the taste. Chicory root tastes a lot like coffee, only better! M-Maybe you'd like it, too?" Pinky offered helpfully, a tinge of shyness peppering his smile.

Globetrotter looked up at Pinky, nonplussed... and a wee bit confused. No one ever gave him anything; not unless he directly asked for it. To be fair, no one was ever bold enough to even attempt to show him much kindness, seeing as the result was often times a sharp reply and a sinister glare. This newcomer obviously hadn't learned the rules yet.

"Teachers... don't usually give me gifts," Globetrotter admitted. "Not unless I ask for them." Nevertheless, he pocketed the chicory root.

"Perhaps that's because you don't ask nicely, Brain? People give you lots of things when you're nice to them!"

It wasn't so much the statement itself, but the boldness of its deliverance that took Globetrotter aback.

"Sooooo... you're saying... I should be nice... to get rewards?"

"Oh, no, Brain! That would be taking advantage! You should be nice to people, 'cause, well, it's nice! And then they're nice to you! Don't you like making people happy?"

"No."

"Not even a little bit?"

"No one has ever given me reason to."

"Well, maybe they would if you showed them a little smile!"

And he actually stuck two fingers up against Globetrotter's cheeks, pushing up on each side in an attempt to draw something close to a grin on his drooping face.

"Ohhhhhhh. There's that smile, Brain!"

"Would you get off?!" Globetrotter blasted, waving his arms around as he flung Pinky off of him. "I told you not to touch me!"

His cheeks and ears burned red at the sound of laughter nearby. Some of the students had been watching and were now drowning in a hushed fit of giggles. Naturally...

"You dimwit. If you're still sitting in that chair in five seconds, I shall personally have to harm you," threatened Globetrotter, cheeks reddening worse than ever as his paws balled into fists.

"Do I get a prize if I leave in four?" Pinky smirked.

"One..."

"Or maybe I'll get one if I stay longer! It pays to be persistent sometimes, Brain."

"Two..."

"You know, you're rather funny when your ears turn red. Nya-ha-ha!"

"FOUR...!"

"Going, Brain!"

And with that, he was off, picking his food up off his tray to take back to his room, giggling to himself and humming, of all things, "Camptown Races" as he headed for the doors. One of the teachers, a Dr. Dawson, smiled at Pinky as he walked past him. And Dr. Dawson... Oh, have mercy. Dr. Dawson started singing along with him.

"I say. I do recognize that tune, young man!" Dawson said, grinning warmly. "Camptown ladies sing this song! Doo-dah! Doo-dah!"

"Camptown race-track five miles long! Oh, doo-da day!" Pinky sung back, beaming.

Others joined in. Still others. Soon, almost the entire cafeteria, minus Globetrotter and a few stragglers, was decked out in song.

"Gwine to run all night! Gwine to run all day! Bet my money on the bob-tailed nag! Somebody bet on the bay!"

And with that, everyone burst out into hearty laughter, Pinky's wail the loudest of all. He and Dr. Dawson exchanged a friendly word or two, shook hands, and with that, Pinky departed, leaving a trail of chuckles behind.

Globetrotter blinked, his mouth hanging slightly open again. Whatever had happened was... terrifying. This bloke didn't just have an effect on the students, but on the whole school. Even the teachers were getting involved! It was official. This needed to end. He had to be stopped...

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

Pinky was still humming "Camptown Races" all the way back to his classroom. He'd just reached the door when a little someone came pitter-pattering down the hallway after him.

"Mr. Pinky! Mr. Pinky!" she called, hat bobbing wildly up and down on her ruffled, furry head.

"Hello, Olivia!" Pinky said, grinning from ear to ear.

"That was amazing!" she gasped, panting. "Mrs. Judson said she could hear you from the nurses' office. She was singing with you!"

They both giggled at this.

"Well, tell Mrs. Judson that Mr. Pinky is glad she enjoyed the song!" Pinky said.

"Oh, I will! I will! By the way, umm... do you have any more classes planned?" Olivia asked, tucking her paws behind her and rocking back and forth, the pink cheeks only complementing her humble posture. She looked awfully cute.

"Hmmmmm. Will you be here tomorrow?"

"Is that a Friday?"

"I think so."

"Yes! Yes, I will!"

"2:00 PM sharp tomorrow, little lady," Pinky said, winking at her.

"2:00 PM sharp, Mr. Pinky!" Olivia repeated, saluting him. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

And off she trotted.

"Oh! Olivia!" Pinky called.

Olivia stopped and turned around, her mouth in a curious little 'o' shape. Pulling a hand out of his pocket, Pinky tossed her a bag of crisps. She caught it with a trained paw.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed, popping open the bag and tossing a chip in her mouth as she ran off and around a corner.

"Olivia!" Pinky called again, a hand to his mouth.

"Hm?" she queried, popping her head around the corner.

"How many signatures?!"

"Thirty-seven!"

"Woo-hoo!"

"Woo woo!" she called back, before flying off once more.

Pinky smiled, giggling to himself, as he turned the door handle and disappeared inside.

--------------------

Author's Notes:

- Marvell is an original character created by a friend of mine who goes by the cognomen of "Geeky". You can find her lovely art and cute character on Twitter at: GeekyBlackGirl

- Flip phones weren't exactly in wide use in '93, but I cheated here for convenience's sake and story purposes.

- The book that Teresa was reading, as well as the book Globetrotter carried around with him, are actual published works. Stochastic calculus is, apparently, a very advanced form of the subject. Brain considers it light reading.

- Your typical volcano science project is partially composed of baking soda, which, in turn, is made up of sodium bicarbonate. The whole thing is a reference to Globetrotter's explosive personality, and how he views the current predicament as such: one big problem on the verge of erupting and destroying his position if he doesn't do something... and fast.

- Globetrotter going for the cottage cheese and fruit, while sadly eschewing the pasta, is due to the fact that, in this story, he has terrible bowel and diarrhea issues. He's been told by his doctor to avoid certain foods, but finds this... a struggle at times. I dunno why I decided to give him this problem, other than the fact that it amuses me. Lol.

- Olivia is a lot of fun to write. :)

#fan fiction #pinky and the brain

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #397

“you’re my religion, you’re my reason to live / you are the heaven in my hell”

Do you think that you’ll always love who you love now? Even if we're never together again romantically, I will ALWAYS love her at least as a best friend. Have you ever made out with a random person? Yeah, no. If you could do your first kiss over, would you? No. I'm lucky that my first kiss was honestly cute as hell. Do you like your country’s president or prime minister? Well I voted for him, so I obviously can't hate him. He seems to be doing fine so far, though take that with a grain of salt seeing as I don't keep up with politics. Even before voting for him, I just did a small bit of researching on his values. What color is your house? Yellow with white accents. Do you listen to Christmas music during the holiday season? No, I don't enjoy it. Man, Jason's mom sure did, though... I loved how in the spirit she'd get and always played Christmas music in the car during that time of year. I miss that woman and I sure as hell hope she rests easy now. Do you like ginger ale? Solely if I have a stomach bug, and I can only ever sip it. What are you listening to? "Electric Sugar Pop" by Jeffree Star. What’s the last thing you watched on TV? The TMS office has the TV on, and the woman who overlooks it (I have zero idea what her position is called) tends to have it either on a cooking channel or a home improvement one. Today was a cooking one. Is your favorite author the author of your favorite book? I don't have a favorite author. Describe someone you find really attractive: M-Mark Fischbach. *___* If you HAD to look like someone else, but could choose who, who would you choose? Hm... maybe my friend Alon. I've mentioned I feel like a million times that she is like, ethereal with how gorgeous she is. Have you ever seen someone get a tattoo done? If so, what was it? Did they cry or were they in a lot of pain? Yeah; it was a watercolor feather with "ohana" written below it. She didn't cry at all, but she grit her teeth a few times. Do you have anything you couldn’t go a day without? Some form of technology. Have you ever gotten caught doing something illegal? No. What’s your favorite flavor of Vitamin Water? I don't even think I've ever tried it. Is there someone you wanna date right now? Yeah. What first attracted you to the last person you kissed? If we're talking the very first, our vast similar interests. How many brothers does your father have? None. Does your best friend have any tattoos? No. Do you like Ben + Jerry’s? Yep. Man, I want their Phish Food ice cream now. Would you ever wish to be the opposite sex? Nah. Do you think you’re attractive? Nope. What is your favorite card game to play? Magic: The Gathering. I really miss my PS3 where I had Duel of the Planeswalkers installed on it, it was really fun. Do you own a globe? I don't think we still do. What is your favorite wild cat? Perhaps clouded leopards. If your bedroom had three portals to anywhere, where would they lead? South Africa, Sara's place, and maybe a nice little cabin in the mountains for when I'm feeling a peaceful getaway. You can ask any author one question about their story. What do you ask? I have zero idea. What’s a place you have a strong emotional connection to? The pond behind the local community college. Jason and I took our first prom pictures there. Do you take yoga classes? No, but I'm actually considering it since they offer those at the YMCA Mom and I now go to. What is a decision you’ve made that changed your entire life? To let Jason go. It's pretty great, my PTSD has been less of a bother lately! Have you ever made any money from a side-hustle? Could you consider being paid to take pictures once in a blue moon a "side hustle" when I don't even have a main job? Do you ever wonder what kind of person you’d have turned out to be if a certain event never happened to you? Ugh... it's incredibly painful to wonder how life would be if Jason never left. If you could have anyone’s singing voice, whose would you choose? Adele's or Amy Lee's, probs. What are your top 3 favorite genres of music? Metal, hard rock, alternative. Do you think Mars will be colonized in your lifetime? No. Have you ever been homeless? If so, what led to your homelessness? Technically, yes, because Mom couldn't afford the rent. She, my little sister (who still lived with us at the time), and I each were accepted into the homes of willing, kind people, though. Have you ever been on a ship? No. Who was Van Halen’s better singer - David Lee Roth, or Sammy Hagar? David. Which fictional character has the most memorable quotes? Heath Ledger's Joker is quoted all the time, so probably him. What do you think of the "Healthy At Every Size" movement/philosophy? Before I answer this, I want you to keep in mind that this is coming from someone who is obese, so I would positively love to agree with that for my own self-confidence, but I don't. I believe it's a very dangerous mentality. I think you should cherish your body unconditionally, like it's an amazing machine, but I firmly believe you should have an active interest in becoming what is physically healthy. You couldn't pay me millions to convince me that, say, a 300 lb. person is healthy. What was the name of the first person you ever had a crush on? Why did you like them? I think my first *real* crush was this guy Sebastian my freshman year of high school. I thought he was very sweet, funny, caring, and attractiveness was a bonus. What food will you absolutely not, under any circumstances, eat? Sashimi, caviar, raw eggs... Which famous person would you like to be BFFs with? Bindi Irwin, for one. What kind of natural disaster is most common where you live? Hurricanes. Have you ever had an animal get into your attic? No. Have you ever been bitten so hard that there teeth marks were there after? I mean I've had hickeys before if that's what you're asking. Ever gave one? Oh, I guess you were. Yeah. Do you think its weird if guys wear make-up like eyeliner? Not at all. Would you ever date a disabled person? (Be honest) Yes. Would you rather adopt or have your own child? IF I wanted kids, I'd rather have one myself because I'm well aware I personally need that special connection. Stepkids count, too, because they'd be my partner's and therefore very important for me too. What is the most personal question you have ever been asked? Probably TMI, so here's your fair warning, but I've been asked before if I "touch" myself and I was absolutely repulsed that someone would ask me that. Were you abused by your parents? No. If you’re not straight, who was the first person you came out to? Sara. Were you one of the smartest in your class? Up to finishing high school, modestly, I was. Where did you meet your first crush? Art class my freshman year of high school. Do you ever go places with wet hair? Yeah, idc. Who is your favorite little girl? My niece Aubree. She's such a wonderful girl. Does your best friend have kids? No. If you were pregnant, would you want a boy or a girl? Hypothetically, a girl. What place outside of your own home do you spend the most time at? Um, maybe my older sister's house? Have you ever participated in a medical study? No. Do you have any family members who are cancer survivors? Yes, including my mother. Twice. Are you allergic to any medications? None that I've tried. Do you have any licenses other than your driver's license? I don't even have that. If you’re atheist, would you raise you kids believing in God or not? No; I wouldn't intervene with their own spiritual (or lack thereof) journey. They'd learn what they'd learn and decide themselves what they believe. Do you like reading self-help books? No, I just can't get invested in those. What is your opinion on sex change? If you're unhappy with your body, you're more than free to surgically change that with no judgment from me. Do you have any goals for this summer? If so, what are they? Yes, to lose weight. Can you get a strike at bowling? I have before. There was one occasion where my first go was a strike RIGHT after saying I sucked at bowling, hahaha. Do you ever take pictures of negative moments? Well, I photograph roadkill, and that's one hell of a sad moment. I actually wouldn't mind broadening my horizons of photographing negative moments (with permission of course), because I actually find these very impactful and even builds empathy. I will never, ever forget this one picture I saw sometime of an emaciated boy huddled in the dirt with a vulture close by watching him... like fuck, it made me want to sob. No one should ever have to live like that, especially a child. Would you ever post a picture of yourself crying on social media? No. I know that sounds contradictory to what I just said, I just wouldn't be able to do it myself. Have you ever held a newborn baby? Once, when my last niece was born. I'm terrified of holding them because they're just so fragile. Do you know anyone who has twins? My friend just had triplets. What is your favorite country in Europe? Germany. Are you thriving in your life right now? BOY HOWDY- Do you remember to water plants? I don't keep plants. Name three YouTubers you aspire to be like. 1.) Markiplier in a vast plethora of ways; 2.) Jeffree Star for his incredible work ethic; and 3.) Shane Dawson for his incredible compassion. Yes. I know the controversy, but regardless, he cares a lot about people. Who is your favorite character from Harry Potter? I wouldn't know, given I haven't read the books or seen the movies. Do you watch PewDiePie? Not anymore; his content doesn't interest me anymore. I watched him religiously back in the day when he was a serious let's player, though. Do you have a Steam account? Yes. Have you ever played Five Nights at Freddy’s? No, not personally. I like watching LPs of it and I find the story fascinating, but it's not the kind of game I'd enjoy playing. Have you ever tried Akinator? Yes. I don't think I ever beat it, except maybe once. Are you wearing socks right now? No; unless I'm wearing closed-toe shoes like sneakers, I never do. I hate the feeling of them. Can you twerk? Haven't tried, don't wanna. Do you like dabbing? No, it looks stupid. Do you like fishing? I honestly do think it's fun with all the anticipation and thrill of seeing how big the fish is, however I don't support it anymore unless, like hunting, you genuinely need it for food. The only case where I'd go again was if my dad asked me, because that's always been our bonding experience. Do you have a Spotify account? Yes. Have you heard of Blizzard Entertainment? Well, they're the company behind World of Warcraft, so obviously. Do you like bananas? Yes, but only for a VERY short window of time. I am beyond picky with the ripeness of bananas. Are you addicted to anything? Caffeine and technology. Do you know your phone number? I actually don't. Do you swear in front of children? No.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''here for you'' by ozzy osbourne

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kreekey · 5 years

Text

Wedding Bells Are Breaking Up That Old Gang of Mine

Chapter 1/1

Pairing: Linda McCartney/Paul McCartney, John Lennon/Yoko Ono, John Lennon & Paul McCartney

Genre: Fluff

Words: 2391

Summary: That title may sound a bit melancholic given the real context, but all things must come to an end. It’s funny to see the person you’ve known your whole life only begin to settle into themself. There’s a moment of fondness leading up to the split.

Is ‘fondness’ the right word?

It’s pretty amicable, anyway.

Two different kinds of couples have a night together. It’s like a dinner party, except the (Ono) Lennons aren’t really sure how to throw a dinner party. Conversation is had. John entertains the idea of a soon-to-be Beatle breakup. Paul refuses to get his head drilled into. Everyone has found somebody to love.

(See the AO3 Post for author’s notes)

John’s apartment - I guess it’s Yoko’s now, too - was already littered. It was no different from the closets we used to live out of in Hamburg, except this one must’ve cost a few thousand pounds. They had just moved in and half the floorboards were hidden underneath newspaper clippings, clothing, and dirty plates. At least they had the courtesy to move some of the piles against the wall before we came over.

Not that it eased Linda at all. We sat with our knees bumping against each other and hand over hand. I whispered sweet jokes to her in the living room as we waited - I don’t know why I whispered. It was only John’s flat. His home. It didn’t feel like a home, of course. It felt a bit like an alley you might find yourself in after a night of drinking. Funny, considering I used to live in this same building a couple of years ago. Things have changed since then.

Yoko’s bare feet padded in from the kitchen. She smiled in a way that rivalled Mona Lisa, saying, “The food is ready.”

I took Linda’s hand as we stood and followed Yoko down the short hall. She walked with care, making every step deliberate. It all felt very formal for a visit to an old friend’s house.

We stepped into the dining room and found John sat cross-legged on one of the dining chairs. There was a smile underneath all that hair he’s grown out. Two sturdy seats sat across from each other at an intimate wooden table. He beckoned us with the signature Lennon confidence, saying, “Come, sit.” Yoko took his hand and he guided her into the seat beside him. They reminded me of one of those old couples who’ve known each other for decades.

As we settled into our seats, Linda and I gave each other a glance after noticing the food. It could barely be considered dinner. An opened bottle of champagne stood proudly in the centre, surrounded by plates of crackers and half-hazardous dollops of caviar. There was a bowl of a thousand different kinds of foreign cooked vegetables dressed with pepper. At least now I could be sure there was food in John’s house. He seemed so fragile and thin nowadays. Of course, he’s the same fiery Lennon he’s always been. I think.

John reached out for a cracker and he leaned on the table, saying, “Me and Yoko have got ourselves on this macrobiotic diet. I hope you like it, it’s good for you. Gets rid of toxins and all that.” He stuffed his mouth with a biscuit.

“‘‘Macrobiotic’?” I laughed. “I still remember you sneaking Eric’s chocolate at the studio.”

He smiled, “That’s the old me, Paul.”

“We were at the studio this time last year,” I reminded him. That nice familiarity that always came to me whenever I visited John began to creep up. “Eric was yelling at George because his truffle was gone, but you fessed - eventually - that it was you all along.”

“Sometimes John will still slip and eat a chocolate bar,” Yoko said airily with that same enigmatic smile, hands folded in her lap. “But the point is that it’s very healthy. We eat grains and vegetables, you know, that kind of thing. It’s very, very good. That’s why we do it.”

John hummed chirpily, teasing us with his raised eyebrows. Linda put on a weak polite smile for them before staring at the plates. She rarely knew what to say to Yoko. I mean, we know she’s mostly harmless. She’s just from another world. I grabbed Linda’s glass and poured the champagne, nudging her for reassurance. She scooted her chair closer to mine until our knees started bumping again.

We ate sparingly and drank freely. John and I made conversation about nothing memorable, catching up on our intertwined lives. Linda would chime in with something smart before returning to listening. Trying to keep up with a conversation with John makes anyone a bit disquiet. Yoko would often watch, occasionally regaling us with an explanation for something we didn’t know we wondered. Her ideas always had John turning in admiration or ferocious agreement. As the drinks kept flowing, I even began to seriously consider some of their proposals.

“Wait, d’you remember the letter I sent from Amsterdam, Paul? You fancy getting the trepanning thing done?” John brought up after a mention of their peace demonstrations.

Linda and I gave each other a look. John’s letters during his honeymoon were often illegible. Even when you could make the words out, he never made sense.

“You kind of have a hole bored into your skull and it relieves the pressure,” John explained in an instant upon seeing our expressions. He seemed eager, almost bouncing in his chair. My wife gaped at me, eyes widened. I shrugged. It was kind of amusing.

Linda spoke straight to Yoko the first time this night and gawked, “Hold on, do you believe this?”

“We’re always looking for new ways to expand our consciousness,” Yoko replied without the slightest inflection in her voice. I swear I could tell her smile opening up the slightest bit. She giggled softly, “But John is more focused on this method than I am.”

It’s almost startling to hear her laugh. Yoko turned into a sliver less of a mystery. Linda and I made eyes at each other, lips curling upwards. Before we knew it, we were dissolving into laughter. I almost forgot about the people across the table. Linda looked lovely, just like herself, a blush colouring her face as she cracked up without a care. Yoko tittered along shyly, gazing at her husband.

John continued with a wide grin. He gripped the table and leaned in closer. “No, this isn’t a joke! All you’d have to do is just bore a little hole in your skull and it lets the pressure off. We met a doctor in Amsterdam, and he has a paper on it. A scientific paper, a real one. You could get a permanent high from this!”

Linda leaned over and laid her head on my shoulder with a content sigh. It could’ve been a tired one. Wrapping my arm around her and pulling her closer, I replied, “C’mon, Johnny. You must be joking.”

“No, no! Listen, let’s go next week. We know a guy who can do it, and maybe we can all do it together!” John gestured with his hands like he was bursting with genius ideas. I half-expected him to shout ‘Eureka!’.

“Look, you go and have it done, and if it works, great,” I grinned. “Tell us about it and we’ll all have it.” Linda hummed in agreement.

John threw his hands up, saying, “Oh, fine, fine. You’re too cynical about things like this - ”

“Thank God,” I interrupted. Linda almost guffawed.

He gestured to me with another cracker, “You’re no fun anymore, Paulie.”

My wife relaxed against my body, radiating warmth, and looked back across the table. It felt sweet coupled with my drunk buzz. She said, “I just think that there’s so much crap that you’ve got to be careful of.”

“But John’s more open to things like that,” I winked at him, wanting my cheeky smile to push his buttons. His eyes narrowed at mine, though the rest of his face stayed nonchalant. The room turned silent and I realized all eyes were on John, waiting for his usual witty response. Yoko looked at him, unfocused, not a hint of a frown on her face. John bounced his leg in thought.

“Well, whether you believe it or not…” John finally said, a degree colder than usual. “Either way, I don’t resent ye for it - I don’t resent your husband, Linda,” he turned to her. “I feel sorry for him.”

Linda didn’t let her surprise show. John Lennon could catch most people off guard in a snap - not me. She began to sputter before I cut in heartily, “That’s very kind of you, Lennon!”

John chuckled, “No, really, McCartney. If you say no, you mean no. It’s very kind of you not to call me fuckin’ crazy.”

“It’s just not something I would like to do, Johnny. But you let me know how it is,” I said, squeezing Linda closer out of habit. John nodded, turning his eyes elsewhere as if it’s all exasperated him.

“I think John wanted to put some pressure off. For both of us, you know,” Yoko said. Her voice was smooth and delicate, almost jarring compared to the madness a few moments prior. “We are the only people going through the same problems.”

I wondered, ‘What do you say to that’?

But John seemed to know. John understood her, something most people couldn’t do. I’ve been aware of her for three years now. I never really got on that well with her.

“We’re in the same position. Our fame, y'know, the people we know. And The Beatles… for now, I mean. Until you release that album of yours, Paul.” John turned his eyes back on mine.

“Well, the recordings’ going well,” Linda said with a sense of nerves.

“What do you do in the album? It’s refreshing to see another woman working on the album of a Beatle. And you know, when Beatles are recording, there’s very few people around, especially no women,” Yoko said. John gave me an empty look before returning to face his wife. Memories of asking Yoko to go sit in the back of the studio - an act I used to try to hide from John like a dirty affair - flooded our minds. I ignored that thought.

“Strictly speaking she harmonizes,” I answered. As I stared down at her I found myself admiring every feature - as always.

I continued, “But of course it’s more than that. She’s a shoulder to lean on, a second opinion… and a photographer of renown.” She glowed when I kissed the top of her head. I looked back up at the Ono-Lennons, beaming with pride.

“Cor, replaced me already?” John jested. I made an affirming sound, taking another sip of champagne with my free hand.

“Yer killing us, y’know. The band. I don’t understand. I’m not ashamed of The Beatles,” John shook his head. “I did start it all!”

“Well, I’m doing what you and Yoko were doing last year. I understand what you did, now.” I said. It’s stupid to defend it. I shouldn’t have to, it’s only an album.

“Will Paul and Linda become a John and Yoko?” John used that mock-deep voice, the kind he uses when he jeers at the media.

“No. They will become Paul and Linda.” My wife melted in my touch as I wrapped my other arm around her. She looked up at me with a smile.

“Hmm,” John half-lidded his eyes. “Good luck to yer.”

We went on with the evening, skipping over any unmentionables. Linda and I would try to, anyway. John and Yoko didn’t mind. It went well, I imagine. I love them - I know that I love John. I respect him, at least. And John loves her, and there’s nothing to be done for it.

They waved us goodbye at some point early in the morning. As we walked onto the street, Yoko stood with John in the flat’s doorframe, hand on his chest. His arm snaked around her waist. They were so small, so compact. Like they made their own bubble. Impenetrable. There was ‘John and Yoko’ and there was the rest of the world. All that ‘interconnectedness of the whole human race’ (or whatever’s said these days) was hard to sense sometimes. Really, though, they must be in love. I can’t say there’s anything wrong with that.

I gripped Linda’s hand, leading us away. Our steps were uneven, unsure, but we leaned on each other throughout the cold walk back to Cavendish.

“'Trepanning’ - was he really sitting there saying we should do this?” Linda muttered in disbelief. When she looked up at me, there was a smile on her face. She was glad to say what she wanted, especially with me.

I laughed, “Well, John always wanted to jump over the ‘cliff’ - “

“The 'cliff’?” she questioned. It wasn’t in the way some girls used to question me, twirling their hair as if they still didn’t know anything, only to flirt. Linda wasn’t coy. Linda knew who she was, and she knew me.

“Y’know, the cliff,” I said, confident that the explanation will be a tad silly. “The cliff - going full tilt. He once said that to me. 'Have you ever thought of jumping?’ I said, 'Fuck off. You jump, and tell me how it is.'”

Her shoulders shook from laughter, still gazing up at me.

“That’s basically the difference between us.” I motion with my head. “I love John, and respect what he does - though he doesn’t really give me any pleasure. Not with his, y’know, kooky ideas. I get tired from it all.”

“‘Tired’? Oh, Paul.” She squeezed my hand.

“Sorry. I don’t like it either, getting tired.” I sighed. “It makes it all harder.”

“It’s allowed, you know,” she said, sinking into me. “Allow yourself to be tired.”

A smile warmed up onto my face. I nodded gently because she was right.

Linda continued to relax against me, the way I found myself letting go of my worries when I was with her. It felt silly, being in love and feeling like you were 16 and discovering that giddiness again. But it was perfect. She’s the perfect thing to end the night with after a dinner like that. Just the person I need - that I always need. Not that the Ono-Lennons aren’t pleasant - but they’ve turned a hint unfamiliar. They were something that I didn’t want to handle. Linda lifted it all away.

We continued stumbling down the road, mumbling sweet conversation to each other. Reminiscing about the night we just had, giggling at old jokes again. She let go of my hand and wrapped herself around my arm, entangling us further. I wouldn’t mind if this moment lasted forever. I’d go down any path with her. It didn’t matter, because she would always be there; she’s a shoulder to lean on, a second opinion, and someone who believes in me - constantly. I didn’t know how much I needed that.

#beatles #beatles fic #fan fiction #oneshot #fluff #the beatles #paul mccartney #John Lennon #yoko ono #linda mccartney #writing #love #personal #my work #my writing

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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Beneath the Amber Moon, Part 5 (Galactica AU Group Fic) – TheDane & Veronica

Heyyy!! Welcome to Part 5 of “Beneath the Amber Moon,” a group fic set in the Galactica Universe. Click here for previous chapters.

We hope you’re enjoying it! Let us know what you think!

Summary: Day 4. All aboard for champagne wishes and caviar dreams...

/////

Fame looked out on the deck of the superyacht, pride momentarily filling her chest. Everything was perfect, from the precisely iced champagne to the decadent crackers with caviar to the hand plucked organic strawberries and the almost naughty pure chocolate cake she had selected for dessert. Fame had even saved an outfit for the occasion, her new Hermes set in white linen and the lovely goose egg sized sapphire earrings Patrick had given her sending just the right vibe of chic, without it being overdone and redundant.

Bianca looked as she always did, and while Fame was a little disappointed, it was also fully expected that Bianca hadn’t dressed up. Her friend boarded in what she always chose for any tropical adventure, a bright patterned caftan that was almost insulting with its colors.

The waiters handed out champagne, and Bianca took a sip, a smile playing on her lips. Karl had gotten the memo, the man showing up looking like he had just stepped out on the beach on the French Riviera, Sutan and Violet also looking appropriately done up. Fame hadn’t known what she had expected from Violet on the trip, the black haired woman never great company. Even though she was amongst the people Fame generally favored, on this trip she could just as well have been invisible.

Alaska and Jinkx showed up next, Jinkx looking radiant in a red bathing suit that was both age appropriate, and that matched perfectly with her sarong and the delightful emerald on her hand. Alaska was also decked out, the blonde wearing more and more jewels, but unlike Raven, Alaska had a sense of taste and Fame congratulated herself once again on hiring Alaska back when she had been nothing but a just out of college mess. Alaska had grown up to be beautiful, and while Raja and Raven walked on, kids in tow, Fame to give Raven that she was beautiful, that had never been up for discussion, but the Russian was practically dripping with jewels, her lilac getup clearly there to show off her tan and the body that once again looked physically flawless, having spent hours with a trainer.

“Welcome, welcome.” Fame smiled, Juju and Detox of course arriving second to last, but Fame had gotten used to it. Life with kids really seemed so dreadfully inconvenient. “Please treat yourself to the spread!” Fame gestured at an array of luxury treats flown in for the cruise.

Fame heard Karl snort, and she barely kept from rolling her eyes. She was happy she had picked some of the more attractive male staff for the cruise, Karl somehow becoming even more of a man-eater after Sutan had moved to Paris, which didn’t make sense, but who she to judge.

“I can’t wait to spend two days in total luxury with my dearest friends to celebrate, well, me!” Fame smiled, her eye catching on Adore who looked like her usual mess, Courtney on her arm, and Fame sighed, accepting that Adore’s favorite accessory was there as well.

After a toast, Fame took everyone on a grand tour, making sure they knew where the various bars and lounges were, the beautiful guest suites where they’d be sleeping, the wave pool and jacuzzis, the sauna and spa, the movie theatre and library. She directed Raja and Raven’s nannies to the large, colorful playroom outfitted with everything the kids could possibly want, including a wide array of child-friendly snacks and their own personal steward. Julia and Owen immediately voiced their resounding approval, shooing their parents from the room so that they could go nuts.

Fame led the rest of the group back to the breakfast spread on the upper deck. Juju (who procured a phone from her bra the moment Fame looked away, an emergency going on at her salon) and Violet set up camp in one of the interior lounges. Fame had gotten used to Violet’s sour disposition, the poor girl still looking like she wished she was anywhere but in Brazil. She let them be, noting to one of the stewards to be sure to check on them often.

/////

Courtney took a deep breath. She didn’t want to round the corner, but she knew she had to. It wouldn’t do at all to keep avoiding Bianca’s friends, and so she steeled her nerves and walked out onto the sun deck.

“Well well well, what have we here!” Sutan whistled, looking at Courtney in her golden bikini. “If you don’t mind me stating my professional opinion Miss Act, you’re looking like fucking perfection. Karl, have you seen her ass?”

Karl pulled down his sunglasses, straightening his back a little. “She has cleaned up quite nicely.”

“... Thanks?” Courtney offered a wary smile, letting Karl catch her by the hand and pull her into a lounger beside him.

“Something’s different about your face, too.” He studied her intently for a moment before snapping his fingers. “You’re not overplucking your eyebrows anymore. You look a million times better. An inspiration. Have you had your ass measured lately?”

Sutan laughed, pushing Karl. “Save that for Milano, my friend.” Sutan moved, sitting at the foot of Karl’s lounger and handing Courtney a nearby glass of champagne Karl was drinking. He himself was having a bottle of beer.

“How do you feel about Asia?” Karl asked.

“Uh...Free Tibet?”

“No, for work!” Sutan laughed. “You’re basically every marketing department’s wet dream right now. Look at you. You’re bright, bubbly, the all-American-”

“Australian, remember?”

“-Dream, a mature mind in the body of someone who’s so healthy they practically glow.” Sutan smiled. “How do you feel about partial nudity?”

“You would be perfect.” Karl took a sip of his champagne. “The market is oversaturated with garbage from Russia right now.”

“Hey!”

Karl laughed, raising his glass to Raven in the jacuzzi. “It’s a fashion catastrophe waiting to happen. Global warming is kicking in, but instead of CO2, it’s 14-year-olds from Eastern Europe getting fucked by their managers and being dumber than dirt.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Raja looked at them in confusion. “Why haven’t I heard of this?”

“America is so last year sister dearest.” Sutan smiled. “Haven’t you heard? Asia is the place to be if you want to make serious buck.”

“As I’ve been telling everyone for years, but no, we only start believing me when Sutan moves to Paris to follow his dick.”

“I think what Karl is trying to say, very unsuccessfully,” Sutan rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. “Is that there would be incredible career opportunities for you right now in Asia. Judy Hua from China has sent feelers out about a face for her newest collection, and someone like you could-”

“Judy Hua? Courtney is a Guo Pei girl if there ever was one. Act, don’t you even dare consider signing with Elite. They’re a terrible agency.”

“Terrible? We’re the best in the business.”

“Just because you write something, doesn’t mean it’s true.”

Courtney sat back, slightly overwhelmed. This was the most attention she’d ever gotten from either man, and she wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about it. On the other hand, they were both very good at their jobs, both clearly with business on the brain, so maybe she should be listening to them.

Sutan laughed. “Excuse me, what agency discovered and represented Cindy Crawford, Raven Petruschin, Linda Evangelista, Iman, Raja Gemini and Naomi Campbell?”

“You can’t name your own sister.”

“Oh, what’s the sound of that? That’s the sound of you having a 20% transfer rate last season.”

Karl rolled his eyes, turning to Courtney. “If you ever feel like making money off of those 32B’s, don’t go with him.”

“... How do you know my cup size?”

“A lucky guess.” Karl smiled, his eyes glinting with delight.

“Secret of the trade Courtney darling.” Sutan swept in, clearly sensing her discomfort. “Any agent worth their salt has to be able to guess that you’re 5’5, have Swedish or Danish somewhere in your bloodline, maybe mixed with just a little bit of Spanish-”

“Portuguese, how did you-”

“See.” Sutan smiled. “It’s not really that hard.” Sutan looks her up and down. “You’re... What would you say Karl? 115?”

“115- or actually. Courtney. Flex please.” Courtney did as requested, and Karl laughed. “No my man, that’s 117 of Supergirl-made muscles.”

Bianca strode over, hand on her hip, having walked in on only the tail end of the conversation, but already irritated by it.

“Hey!” she barked. “Will you two fuckheads stop objectifying her?”

There was a brief pause, and then everyone - Karl, Sutan, Raja, and Raven, burst out laughing, mocking Bianca mercilessly.

“You fucking hypocrite!”

“Sorry for stepping on your toes, there, B!”

“I guess you’re the only one allowed to objectify pretty blondes, eh?”

“We’re not trying to fuck her, for Christ’s sake…”

Bianca glowered, not quite willing to admit the grain of truth in what they were saying. Courtney was the only one not laughing, meeting Bianca’s eyes and giving her a sympathetic smile. And maybe the look went on a little too long, because Bianca began to feel that familiar tingling, finally breaking off the eye contact.

Courtney bit her lip. And when Bianca pulled off her caftan to reveal a sexy, figure-hugging black one-piece, she inhaled sharply. Fuck, she looked good.

“Court! Come here, boo!”

Courtney looked up to where Adore was calling her, scrambling to her feet and hurrying over, relieved for the interruption, muttering, “Thank god…”

Bianca watched her go, a twinge of regret in her belly.

“Happy now? You scared her off,” Bianca said, and Sutan laughed.

“Come on, B, you must get where we’re coming from. That girl is a gold mine.”

“You’re gross,” Bianca grumbled, leaning back in her chair.

“It’s literally our job to scout talent, Bianca. You just do it for fun,” Karl teased.

“True. Why don’t we just parade a bunch of girls in front of you two assholes and you can rate them on marketability?”

“Know what?” Sutan said thoughtfully. “That’s actually not a bad idea…”

/////

“Do you need any help?”

Juju looked up from her phone, surprised at the gentle tone of Violet’s voice.

“You seem anxious.”

Juju smiled, Violet’s concern so kind. Violet did look a little better, but Juju’s mother's heart had a hard time not worrying about her. If it wasn’t for Sutan’s reassurance, and the pictures she had seen of Violet’s work in Paris, she would be genuinely concerned for the girl.

“My holiday replacement just messed up our orders.” Juju sighed. “It landed in New Jersey of all places and my entire staff has their thumbs up their ass, so now I have to find a courier.” Juju blew a bit of her hair aside, the strand falling into her face. “For such an expensive resort, you’d think their wifi at sea would be better.”

“I still know the number to a great courier company.”

“You do?”

“Mmh.” Violet reached out, holding her hand open. “I can call them if you want?”

Juju gave Violet her phone, a bright smile blossoming on her face. “You’re a lifesaver, Violet.”

/////

“Come here, Gracie!” Alaska cooed, holding out her arms, waiting for Grace to go down the slide.

Jinkx sat nearby with Owen and Julia, patiently teaching them how to fold an origami balloon while simultaneously playing peek-a-boo with Tanya in her nearby high chair. Isolde was wandering around the room unsteadily, trailed by her nanny.

Alaska strolled over with Grace in her arms, bending down to kiss Jinkx on the top of the head.

“Auntie J, is this right?” Julia held up her origami, and Jinkx nodded.

“Yeah, looks great! Just make sure you get the corner sharp…” she pressed down, showing Julia how to make the crease.

“No! Isolde! NO!” Owen yelled as a chubby little hand reached out to grab his paper crane, stuffing it into her mouth. Her nanny scooped her up apologetically, the sound of her shrieks echoing off the walls of the playroom. Her screaming set off Tanya, who began to wail out of either sympathy or competitiveness.

“We can make another one,” said Jinkx, seeing Owen’s lip quivering, giving him a reassuring hug. “Look, let’s use this cool blue striped paper!”

“Those babies are very naughty,” Julia explained to Jinkx, who smiled.

“They’re still learning,” Jinkx said. “I’m sure someday they’ll be as wonderful as you guys.”

Julia raised an eyebrow, the move so like her mother that Jinkx almost burst out laughing.

“Maybe,” she said, and Jinkx grinned.

“I guess we’ll see.”

/////

Adore let out a frustrated groan, peering through the glass at her girlfriends in the playroom.

“What’s wrong?” Courtney asked her.

“I’m so conflicted. Cause I really wanna play with those legos but I don’t want to make Alaska start awwwing again about how good I am with children.”

“You’re not that good with children,” Courtney said. “It’s just that you are a child.”

“Yes! Exactly! Thank you…” Adore sighed. “Why does that room look so fun? Omigod they have mini pizzas. I’m so jeal.”

“I mean, we could play with the kids and eat mini-pizzas...or, we could go to that empty bar over there and drink mimosas and I can tell you about how I almost jumped Bianca’s bones a few minutes ago.”

“Yes! Let’s do that!” She wrapped her arms around Courtney’s waist and pulled her, giggling, into the bar.

/////

“Wow!” Raven let out a gasp of delight as they disembarked from the yacht. An absolutely stunning private beach lay ahead, with what Raven could tell even from afar was an elaborate lunch spread set up for them. She took Violet’s hand, excited that the younger woman was finally joining them, thrilled to have the chance to catch up with her. They had barely seen each other on the trip so far, which Raven had every intention of making up for. Fortunately, Raja and the nannies were handling her girls, which left her free to enjoy the afternoon, and her friends, and the warm sunshine.

“Fame! This looks marvelous!” Raven called, and Fame turned back to her, beaming.

“Just a little light lunch,” she said with a wink. “A meal amongst friends.”

Raven laughed, clearly seeing the various stations with chefs in white coats standing by to cook food to order.

“Yes, of course, just a casual little beach picnic.”

Violet let out a small giggle, shaking her head, and Raven grinned at her, the sound making Raven’s heart clench.

“What looks good to you, Vi? Ooh, look, he’s ready to grill fresh fish for us! Don’t you like Butterfly fish?”

“I do.”

“Uuh, there’s stuffed crab shells too!” Raven pulled Violet with her, Violet’s hand gripping Raven’s tighter and tighter. “Don’t worry, I’ll order for you.”

Violet nodded, thankful that her brief panicked grip of her friend's hand had been read if she was worried about ordering, when she was truly struggling to not vomit everywhere. Raven started piling their plates, Violet once in a while pointing at something Raven made the waiter staff add. The two women found a place near the water, Violet not touching the fish Raven had picked out for her, the scent of the fish making her even more nauseous than the seaweed from the day before, but she kept her lips tightly together, not wanting to ruin the moment. However, Violet didn’t need to worry, Raven not even noticing as she chatted away, happily filling Violet in on everything that had happened since the last time they had seen each other.

/////

“Is there something on my face?”

Raja looked over at Karl, touching her cheek since her friend had been watching her with a wry smile the entire lunch. Raja had both twins on her lap, Tanya making her way through a plate of mangos with the determination only a toddler could have, while Isolde needed help with the tiny bites of chicken Raja had been able to find in the buffet. It was glorious to spend this much time with her babies, Raja often missing entire days of the twins’ lives if they weren’t already up when she went to work.

“Don’t worry.” Karl smirked. “You’re handling motherhood much more gracefully than Juju did.”

“Oh shut up.” Raja laughed. Juju had been a mess for the first few years after Kelly had been born, but there was a world of difference of being a mother in your early 20’s, to having your first baby at 44. Raja had expected Karl to look away, to go back to whatever he was doing, he and Patrick sitting next to each other and often getting into the longest debates about the stupidest things, but this time, Karl continued watching her.

Raja was used to her friend’s attention, though it had grown to become less and less as they got older. The man used to stare at her, unashamed, in a way he had never looked at Sutan when they were most alike. Raja had worn her hair like her brother for a few months years and years ago, and in that period they had even made out a few times when Karl was particularly drunk. Raja had done it for the fun of utterly messing with a friend, the thrill of gaining leverage she knew she could use later, while Karl had moaned Sutan’s name against her lips.

“It’s your own hair, right?”

Raja smiled, flipping her long grey locks over her shoulder. “What are you planning, Mr. Westerberg?” Raja’s hair was indeed her own, and it was a matter of pride for her. Raven loved it as well, her wife almost caring more about the health of Raja’s hair than her own.

“Just wondering if you ever get tired of motherhood and work.” Karl took a bite of his food, Raja barely catching the piece of mango that fell from Tanya’s mouth, the little girl stuffing her cheeks way too tight. “It must be so boring to be stuck in an office all day.”

“Unlike you?” Raja smiled, giving Tanya a glass of water. “You’re not being very subtle right now.” Karl was clearly fishing for an answer to whenever or not Raja would ever return to modeling, and she could see why. There had been a recent upswing in older models, the weight of someone like her wearing jewelry or modeling a handbag, even selling cosmetics in the pages of a magazine giving the brand depth and dependability that a 16 year-old face simply could not provide.

“Would you consider it?”

“For the right price.” Raja smirked, knowing fully well that if she even considered accepting, she’d have a wife that would go ape shit, Raven still far from over her days of throwing plates and destroying vases if she was provoked enough. “Court me, and we’ll see.”

“I just might.”

/////

“Having fun?” Sutan put his hand on Violet’s lower back, his girlfriend sitting at the bar, sipping at a ginger ale, which made Sutan pause for a second, Violet usually only favoring the beverage if she was feeling exceptionally under the weather. “Hey, are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine.” Violet smiled, but Sutan swore he could hear a tiredness in her voice.

“Do you need something?” Sutan pressed a kiss against her hair, the faint scent of lavender calming the worry that was gnawing in his stomach. “I don’t want-”

“I just felt nauseous. It’s already passing.” Violet leaned into his side. “I’m a big girl, remember? I know my limits.”

“Sure you do.” Sutan ran a hand through Violet’s hair, enjoying the closeness.

“Don’t be an asshole.” Violet smiled, though they both knew Sutan was right. “I’m going to go back to the boat.”

“To lay down?”

“To get the sketches I made for Courtney.” Violet had stayed awake for most of the night, working away, the woman pulling pencils and paper from places Sutan hadn’t even imagined they could fit when he had seen her overpacked suitcase, the pile of magazines and clothes taking up all the space.

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“I’m good.” Violet stood up, giving him a brief kiss. “Thank you.” Sutan wanted to protest, but Violet had already left, heading for the dock in her flat summer sandals.

Sutan sighed, rubbing his head. He knew that he shouldn’t worry, but he couldn’t help but feel a little bad about dragging Violet to this humid climate that so obviously didn’t agree with her. However, she had said she was fine, so he would have to trust her. Sutan grabbed another beer and a cocktail from the tray and walked over to sit down beside Bianca.

“I got you a refill.”

Bianca looked up, puzzled.

“Are you trying to get me drunk? Because I don’t think I need to tell you that you’re barking up the entirely wrong tree.”

“God no,” Sutan laughed, pushing the drink closer to her. “So about that panel thing...”

“Are you seriously still thinking about it?”

“It’s not a bad idea.” Sutan smiles.

“Pffft…”

“I’m serious! Like, a model search but with professional critiques?” Sutan said.

“Like in malls? Do those still exist?”

“No! It’s not that- I don’t want it to be like the Elite competition. I always thought that was shit anyway.”

“Fun coming from one of their all-time winners, huh?”

Sutan rolled his eyes. He’d had girls win more times than he could count, but even he knew that it was a bit of bullshit.

“I’m talking about the real deal, Bianca. A show that’s, that’s educating them, getting them booked, showing them what it takes to make it in the business? Like that other show you judge, umh, the one with the designers?”

“Project Runway?”

“Yes!” Sutan takes a swing of beer. “Like that! Project Runway for models, but without the shitty deadlines.”

“We’d need a better name, obviously. Something with models in it. Like, Supermodel.”

“We both know the supermodel died in the 90’s.” Sutan looks at Bianca. “What about.. Star model?”

“You’ve stayed in France too long. Star model, what a shitty fucking name. Even Top Model would be better.”

“Top model! Yes, exactly like that. America’s Next Top Model!” Sutan smiled, punctuating every word with a hand gesture. “I’m just saying Bianca. We could make a killer team, you and I, lend it some credibility.”

“We’ve never worked together on anything, ever.”

“How hard can it be? You have TV experience. And you just said yourself, I know how to pick them. Besides, you know I film well.”

“Debatable, but go on.” Bianca smiled, caught up in Sutan’s words.

“We sweet talk Jinkx, get the capital to shoot a pilot, find some actual brands, hire a few noteworthy photographers. We put them through the ringer - professional level shit, and see who rises to the challenge. Girls turn 18 every day, Bianca.”

“Who would even want to watch that?”

“Everyone who likes to watch gorgeous people suffer, so, essentially, everyone.”

“Hmmm...you’re sick, but you might not be wrong.”

“Cheers to that!” Sutan held up his beer bottle, clinking it against Bianca’s glass.

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thecarlosramos · 6 years

Text

Time Squad’s Adam & Eve Ep

...so back when we started, Dave and I wrote our Time Squad scripts like books. We quickly learned Final Draft once Michael Karnow was hired and set us straight. Here’s an ep that was never made. I believe I wanted Tommy Chong to play Adam but I remember Dave thinking he was too obvious a choice.

This is my thank you to all the TS fans <3

©️®️

In Dagada Da Vida

We open on the satellite where we see a montage of different rooms and corridors as the sound of a dollar bill being inserted and rejected from a candy machine is heard echoing through the ship. We then see Tuddrussel calmly entering a futuristic looking dollar into the candy machine’s money insertor as it once again spits it out. We see Tuddrussel’s reflection in the window as he licks his chops while eyeing a shrink-wrapped donut. We cut back to see him calmly step back off screen. We then hear the sound of a full run as Tuddrussel re enters with a scream as he tackles the machine. We cut back to a hallway as Larry and Otto come out of their rooms to the sounds of laser blasts and screaming. They both run and turn a corner to the sight of Tuddrussel standing over the smoldering candy machine triumphantly holding his laser gun as his chest heaves up and down.

“Oh, hey guys.” Tuddrussel says out of breath.

“Wha…what are you doing?” Otto asks.

“Just getting a donut.” Tuddrussel says as he reaches into the broken glass and pulls out a packaged donut. He then begins to unwrap it with all his strength, which then leads to him biting and clawing at the plastic cover. He then throws it down and blasts it with his phaser. We cut back to Larry and Otto as they shield their faces from the laser fire. Tuddrussel again is left standing in the charred hallway with his chest heaving.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright.” Otto says as he slowly takes Tuddrussel’s hand while Larry cautiously removes his phaser from his other hand.

“Now, you didn’t need all that junk food after all. I’ll make you a nice healthy breakfast.” Larry says cautiously.

“Doesn’t that sound nice.” Otto says in a kindly tone.

“Stupid donut.” Tuddrussel says under his breath.

We then see Otto standing in the kitchen with Larry as he looks at Tuddrussel squeezing two stress-balls in his hands.

“Calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean, calm blue…” Tuddrussel chants quietly while swaying back and forth at the breakfast table.

“Larry, I’m a little worried about Tuddrussel. He’s seems a little…stressed lately.” Otto says as Larry wears a chef hat and cooks diligently.

“A little, ha! His blood pressure is through the roof. All he really needs is a good hot breakfast though. Go out and talk to him while I finish these ‘eggs ala bolognese’. Now shoo!” Larry says while pushing Otto into the dining room. Otto takes a seat next to Tuddrussel.

“Hi buddy, how ya feelin'?” Otto asks Tuddrussel.

“Pretty good, oh you mean…with the donut? Oh that was nothing! I was just a little hungry.” Tuddrussel says blowing off the entire incident.

“Oh, well that’s good ‘cause Larry’s making a great breakfast!” Otto says relieved. Just then Larry comes out of the kitchen carrying two covered silver platters and sets then down lovingly in front of Otto and Tuddrussel. Larry then lifts the lids off the trays revealing Tuddrussel and Otto’s expressions as Otto smiles and Tuddrussel goes from a happy face to a grimace as they look at a very fancy mixed assortment of food oddities.

“What’s this?” Tuddrussel says disgusted as he runs his fork through a runny egg in a piecrust.

“Why that’s ‘gruere preschutto quiche’ in a plumb sauce glaze! It was King Philip of the Vector quadrant’s favorite dish.” Larry says with a smile.

“Larry, what about this dish?” Otto asks while cautiously cutting into a fish plate.

“Oh that’s a pescado brochette with a warm potato galette in an onion fondue with a flying fish caviar cream. I hear it’s quite delicious.” Larry says attentively.

“Wow, this is good!” Otto says with a smile and a mouth full of fish.

“I’m not even going to ask.” Tuddrussel groans as he pushes away a plate of snails.

“Why that’s the ‘Cassolettes d'Escargot’! A lovely little dish I learned to make in culinary school in Brussels. Bon Apetit!” Larry says in a cheery voice. We see Otto chew happily as Tuddrussel slowly grabs the edge of the table in an angry fashion.

“This all looks…TERRIBLE!” Tuddrussel says in a rage as he flips the table over. Otto still chews and swallows what was in his mouth. Larry gasps. “I haven’t had a decent meal in months! Can’t a guy get a sandwich around here?” Tuddrussel continues. Larry looks on in shock when Otto comes to the rescue.

“What he means is…uh, he’s not used to eating such exquisite dishes.” Otto says trying to cover up Tuddrussel’s action.

“No, you were going to have me eat snails! I have been stuffing the mattress of this chair with food for months.” Tuddrussel says with a red face to Larry as he points to his chair that has a bushel of meals stuffed in it. Larry gasps as Tuddrussel continues his rant. “Bacon, eggs, toast! That’s a breakfast! All you make is foo foo soaked in…poo poo!” Tuddrussel screams as he begins to turn bright red while breathing heavily and sweating.

“You…are the worst cook…ever! Ow, now my arm’s gone numb!” Tuddrussel grabs his left arm as he weases out and collapses face first into all the food on the floor in an Inspector Clusaue manner.

“Well fine, I’m never cooking for you two again!” Larry says in a sassy tone while looking down at Tuddrussel on the ground. We cut to black and fade up in a blur from Tuddrussel’s POV to an up shot of Larry and Otto.

“Wake up Tuddrussel, are you okay?” Otto asks.

“Wha…what happened?” Tuddrussel grumbles.

“I think I’m going to have to zap him!” Larry says as his hands begin to glow with electricity. “Clear!” Larry says as Otto steps back and Larry shocks Tuddrussel’s chest.

“Aaaaagghhhh! What did you do that for!” Tuddrussel yells as we cut back to show him jump to his feet.

“Well according to my readings, you just passed out from nervous exhaustion. I was reviving you!” Larry says while he reads charts being faxed out of his chest.

“Sounds more like food poisoning to me.” Tuddrussel says in a sarcastic tone to Larry.

“Tuddrussel, it’s obvious you just need some time to relax, when’s your next vacation?” Otto asks.

“Vacation?” Tuddrussel asks.

“Back in the time Otto’s from employees were allowed a certain amount of time away from their jobs to relax and not work. It was believed that this made for a happier and more productive worker.” Larry informs Tuddrussel.

“Pfft! Well, la-dee-da! That may be fine for some tea-sippin’ pansy, but I’m a cop and we don’t need…” Tuddrussel starts in a cynical tone. Suddenly the ships alarm goes off and Tuddrussel startled by the noise clutches his left arm and falls downward off screen.

“Here we go again!” Larry says as he charges his hands and goes down off screen. We see a blue glow and hear Tuddrussel scream as Otto flinches at the sight of him getting fried. We cut to the ship’s computer as Larry walks up and starts typing coordinates into the keyboard. Tuddrussel and Otto walk up behind him as smoke trails off Tuddrussel’s body. The screen shows an image of a perfect naked couple with blonde hair and blue eyes covered in fig leafs. It reads under them, ‘Adam and Eve, Garden of Eden’.

“Wow, it looks like we’re going all the way back to the Garden of Eden to see Adam and Eve. They were responsible for ruining paradise when Eve ate the forbidden apple.” Otto says. All three begin to walk towards the time transporter.

“Garden? (shivering sound) Sounds awfully organic.” Larry says in an irritated tone.

“Tuddrussel, the Garden of Eden was a utopia. This mission might be just the thing you need.” Otto says enthusiastically.

“Well, It couldn’t be any worse than getting shocked twice by this walking cattle prod.” Tuddrussel says eyeing Larry.

“Hey, I saved your life.” Larry says offended. The three get into the time transporter and bam, they are blasted to the past. We cut to a blue sky as our three heroes blast on screen. The camera has all three in a medium shot close together.

“Paradise huh?” Tuddrussel says skeptically while looking around. We pull back to reveal the three of them sitting on a large zebra. It suddenly starts to kick and jump while yelping. Time Squad Patrol hold on for dear life. Tuddrussel Larry and Otto are then bucked off and fall hard onto the grass and the zebra runs off in a huff.

“Ugh, I’m allergic to large beasts.” Larry says cowardly.

“But you’re a robot, how can you have allergies?” Otto asks.

“I don’t know. I just do. Augh, a snake!” Larry screams while jumping into Tuddrussel’s arms. A devilish looking snake slithers bye Time Squad Patrol.

“(Cough) I think…(Cough cough) I’m having another attack!” Tuddrussel says dropping Larry.

“No Tuddrussel, (Inhale, exhale) that’s just fresh air!” Otto says with a grin. Larry looks around cautiously and takes in a breath and immediately sneezes.

“WACHOO! Ohhh.” Groans Larry.

“(Inhale) Wow, this is kinda nice.” Tuddrussel says with a smile. We pan over the horizon and show paradise. From waterfalls to rolling green hills, the Garden of Eden is breath taking. As the music swells we cut back to Larry spraying an entire can of bug repellent at a butterfly as it falls to the earth.

“Well our mission seems obvious. We need to find Eve, get her to eat one of those forbidden apples and we can be on our way.” Larry says as he sprays the fallen butterfly a couple more times with the bug repellent. We then see some bushes rustle next to Time Squad Patrol. Tuddrussel immediately pulls out his phaser and aims in its direction.

“Who goes there!” Tuddrussel barks in a stern tone.

“Whoa, hold your fire man, we come in peace brother.” A shirtless man says as he rises up out of the bushes. He and the girl with him are hardly dressed wearing fig leaves and other natural covers. The two come out toward our heroes. They both look like flower children. The man has a beard and wild long hair while the woman has face paint and many flowers in her hair.

“Welcome to the Garden of Eden!” The man says. “My name’s Adam and this is Eve, my cosmic soul mate.” Adam says as he gestures to Eve.

“Peace.” Eve says holding two fingers up as she walks over to the gang and puts leis around each of their necks. Larry flinches as Eve gives him a peck on the cheek along with his lei.

“We were going to go on our daily swim in the enchanted lake. Come join us friends. It’ll be groovy.” Adam says walking towards the lake with Eve.

“C’mon Tuddrussel, a swim will do you good.” Otto says as he runs behind Adam and Eve. Tuddrussel follows as Larry is left standing.

“What about the mission?!” Larry yells as we hear an elephant roar in the distance and Larry follows the gang terrified. We then cross dissolve to the lake as Adam and Eve swim around and laugh carelessly. Larry and Tuddrussel stand at the lake’s edge.

“Wow, I haven’t been swimming in years.” Tuddrussel tells Larry.

“Look out dude!” Otto says running past Tuddrussel and Larry wearing only his underwear. (And no glasses) He cannonballs into the lake with a splash. “C’mon in guys, the water’s great. In fact, it’s perfect!” Otto says while treading water. We cut back as Larry is now standing alone. Tuddrussel runs bye him wearing only his mask, shorts and a belt as he jumps into the water almost splashing Larry.

“Last one in is a rotten egg! Woohoo!” Tuddrussel yells. Larry walks to the water’s edge and lightly dabs the tip of his metal foot into the water. We cut in close to see Larry’s metal instantly rust on contact. Larry jumps back in fright.

“Ugh! Rust!” Larry says in a high pitched voice as he scrambles backwards. We cut back to the lake as Tuddrussel and Otto ride dolphins through the water.

“C’mon Larry!” Otto yells in the distance. Larry grumbles. We cut back to Otto and Tuddrussel in the water.

“Man, this is great.” Tuddrussel proclaims.

“I agree, paradise is excellent!” Otto says as Adam splashes him in the face. We cut back to Larry’s point of view as Tuddrussel, Otto, Adam, and Eve splash one another and laugh carelessly. Larry grumbles to himself. We cut to a series of activities between Adam and Eve and the gang. First we see all of them prancing through a flower patch. Everyone is happy except Larry who follows behind, sneezes and falls. Next we see all of them swinging on vines in the jungle. Each one goes from vine to vine in unison like Tarzan. Larry again is last slamming into a tree like George of the Jungle. Last we see the gang all petting a monkey. We pan over to Larry approaching at a sinister looking monkey to the side. He tries to pet it but as soon as his hand meets the monkey’s head it attacks him. Adam and Eve and the gang laugh at his misfortune. We cross dissolve to the woods as we see a light swarm of flies hover over a rustling bush. The sound of a zipper being pulled up is heard as Larry rises.

“There isn’t even a decent place to dump my oil. I’m already starting to chafe!” Larry says in an annoyed tone. We cut to Otto and Tuddrussel as they lay under a tree. Larry comes out of the woods spraying bug repellent everywhere.

“I just saw Adam and Eve singing ‘Kumbaya’ or something on the other side of the forest, let’s figure out a way to get Eve to eat that forbidden apple so that we can finish the mission, leave this filthy national park and get back home.” Larry says in a strict tone

“Leave? Are you out of your mind? This place is great!” Tuddrussel says.

“Yeah, and look how relaxed Tuddrussel is. Just watch…Hey Tuddrussel, what is Time Squad Patrol’s motto?” Otto asks.

“Uh, to protect…and uh, look out or something.” Tuddrussel says as he goes back to sleep.

“Y’see! Anyway, Adam and Eve are really nice. And tonight, we’re gonna trip out looking at the stars .” Otto says as he lies back down.

“Ugh, have you two gone mad?!” Larry protests. Suddenly Adam and Eve walk up to them holding hands.

“Hey, you guys wanna go prance through the flower garden again?” Eve asks.

“You bet!” Tuddrussel says as he leaps to his feet.

“Yahoo!” Otto agrees.

“Groovy.” Adam adds. They all skip away leaving Larry standing alone.

“Fine, I’ll do it without you.” Larry screams.

We then fade up on Larry picking an apple from the forbidden apple tree. Larry then runs off screen in a sinister fashion. We cut to Larry walking up to Eve as she, Otto, Tuddrussel and Adam play with a hackey sack on a hill.

“Hello Eve, you looked famished. Would you care for a bite of this apple?” Larry asks politely.

“No way, we’re not supposed to eat from the forbidden apple tree. And anyway, I’m a strict vegetarian, no fruit! Fruit kills the earth.” Eve says in a strict manner.

“No it doesn’t. Look.” Larry says as he opens his metal mouth and puts the apple in and we hear a sound like an apple being dropped into a bucket. “Mmmmm!” Larry says with a fake smile. He then removes the apple from his hollow chest by opening a lever door in his front and tries to hand it to Eve. “Now you try one!” Larry asks again.

“No. Look man, your harshing my mellow.” Eve says authoritatively. Suddenly the hackey sack comes from off screen and nails Larry in the face. We cut to Tuddrussel standing off to the side.

“Yeah, don’t harsh her mellow. Larry!” Tuddrussel yells. Larry takes the apple and stomps off.

“You haven’t seen the last of me!” Larry says in a harsh tone.

“Man, what’s that dude’s problem?’ Adam asks Tuddrussel.

“Oh, he’s a robot.” Tuddrussel replies. We then cut to a montage of Larry offering Eve apples in different places around Eden. (It will be played as an homage to ‘Green Eggs and Ham’.) We first see the gang braiding each other’s hair as Larry presents the apple and a pair to Eve.

“Would you like an apple with a pair?” Larry asks.

“No!” Eve responds. We next see Eve and the gang dancing around a fire at night as Larry walks up with an apple as a bear stands beside him.

“Could you eat one with a bear? Larry asks.

“No!” Eve responds. We then see the gang playing frisbee.

“Would you like one in a park?” Larry asks.

“No!” Eve responds. We then see Eve and the gang meditating while sitting Indian-style on the ground at night as Larry walks up and whispers to her.

“Could you eat one in the dark?” Larry asks.

“No!” Eve whispers back. Next we see the gang sun bathing on a beach.

“Would you eat one near the sea?” Larry asks.

“No!” Eve responds. Finally we see the gang folk singing while sitting next to a tree as Larry’s head comes in upside down out of a tree’s leaves as he offers the apple.

“Could you eat one in a tree?” Larry asks.

“No!” Eve responds as Larry falls. “I do not like them with a pair, I would not eat one with a bear. I do not like them in the dark; I would not eat one in a park. I do not like them when I tan, I don’t like to eat apples man!” Eve protests loudly to Larry.

“Yeah, lay off!” Otto adds.

“Fine. I give up! If I never see any of you again it’ll be too soon!” Larry says storming off.

“Ah, who needs ya!” Tuddrussel yells. We hold a beat.

“Now who wants to go prance through the flower patch?” Adam asks.

“Well, we did that yesterday but…okay.” Tuddrussel says

“Groovy!” Adam says as the group skips away. We then show the gang prancing, swinging on the vine and swimming two more times as Tuddrussel and Otto seem to grow tired as Adam and Eve continue happily. We end on Tuddrussel and Otto standing exhausted in the flower patch. Also Tuddrussel has grown a beard and Otto’s hair is long. Adam and Eve skip up to them.

“What’s wrong? You guys aren’t prancing.” Adam asks.

“Uh, that’s all we’ve done for months.” Tuddrussel protests.

“Then we’ll just go swing on some vines!” Eve says.

“I’m gonna choke you with that vine!…oh sorry, I didn’t mean that.” Otto corrects himself.

“We’ll catch up with you two later.” Tuddrussel says through his teeth.

“Okay, groovy.” Adam says and the two skip off holding hands.

“If he says groovy one more time…Aaugh! I’m losing my mind. Everywhere I look is a tree or a flower. If I have to see one more rainbow I’m going to scratch my eyes out! Uh oh.” Tuddrussel says in a fit of paranoia as he grabs his left arm and falls over. Otto looks down at him.

“I miss TV.” Otto proclaims. We fade out. We then fade up on Larry sweeping the entrance to a cave marked with a scratch for every day he has spent in Eden. He is a bit rusted and ragged but still his pompous self.

“Larrrrrrry!” Otto is heard off in the distance.

“Where are you!” Tuddrussel yells in a panicked tone. Larry shakes his head in disgust. Suddenly Tuddrussel and Otto spot him and run up.

“Oh man, are we happy to see you buddy.” Tuddrussel says while grabbing Larry’s shoulders.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Otto adds.

“We need to finish this mission and get out of this nightmare world of relaxation and love and swinging on vines!” Tuddrussel pleads. Larry pauses for a beat then speaks.

“Well, well, well, I guess Larry wasn’t so dumb after all.” Larry starts.

“We never said you were dumb!” Otto protests.

“Yeah, I just said you were a terrible cook.” Tuddrussel says.

“Aha! The truth comes out. And now what do you think.” Larry asks.

“I’ll eat all the snails you want when we get home!” Tuddrussel pleads.

“Apology accepted.” Larry says as Tuddrussel kisses his hand.

“Look Larry, I’ve got a plan, but we’re gonna need your help.” Otto says. We fade out. We fade up on Adam and Eve as they stand around the forest. Eve’s stomach growls.

“Whoa, I’m like hungry man.” Eve says.

“You said it dude.” Adam agrees.

“Did somebody say, hungry?” Larry says from off screen as he comes in holding a large silver platter under a dome as Tuddrussel and Otto walk behind him. He sets it down in front of Adam and Eve.

“Wow, is all this for me?” Eve asks innocently.

“Think of it as my little way of saying, thank you.” Larry says raising the lid to reveal a beautifully exquisite looking pie dish.

“Crepe de Chafonne flambé! You see, where I come from we have this thing called cooking! It makes food taste good!” Larry says in a sharp manner as he looks at Tuddrussel. Tuddrussel rolls his eyes. Larry then lights the pie with a flame coming out of his finger as Adam and Eve ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh.’ Larry then blows it out. “Bon apetit!” Larry says with a smile.

“Wait, what’s this made of?” Eve says skeptically.

“Oh, just some things I found…around.” Larry says innocently. Adam and Eve look at each other, shrug and lick their lips devouring the entire plate as they begin to push each other away like rabid dogs.

“Get away, he said it was for me!” Eve proclaims to Adam.

“Stop being so greedy!” Adam yells as they finish the plate off.

“That was delicious!” Eve proclaims licking her fingers.

“That is the best thing I’ve ever eaten. What was it?” Adam asks.

“Oh, just a French recipe for…apple pie!” Larry says letting out a sinister laugh as lighting strikes behind him and dark clouds form.

“Apples? Adam you idiot, I told you it was a trick you dirty hippie!” Eve yells.

“Hippie? You’re the one that’s naked!” Adam says pointing at Eve.

“Shut up!” Eve screams. The two go into a light slapping match as rain falls and lightning strikes everywhere and the ground begins to crack bellowing with red light.

“Aw, look at them. All full of anger and rage. It’s beautiful.” Tuddrussel says with a sentimental smile.

“Let’s go home guys.” Otto says.

“I hate you Larry.” Tuddrussel says as he puts his arm around Larry.

“And I hate you Tuddrussel.” Larry says as he gets choked up and smiles. Larry types the coordinates into his arm and BAM! They’re gone.

THE END

#Cartoon Network #Time Squad

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