My first fanfic! Hooray! This is an idea that I started playing with in my head for a few weeks before I finally just decided to write it. It's going to revolve around mainly Frankie and Mac, but not in the romantic sense. Enjoy, but be gentle! This is only my first fic.
Disclaimer: I do not own Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends
'Why you little…!'Disclaimer: I do not own Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends 'Why you little!' Frances 'Frankie' Foster grumbled as she wrestled in vain to try and pull a rather large bed sheet loose from one of the many washing machines in the laundry room of Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends. You all know the story of Mac and Bloo from Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends. Now, get ready to hear it again, with a new twist. This time, joining the gang of frie.
Frances 'Frankie' Foster grumbled as she wrestled in vain to try and pull a rather large bed sheet loose from one of the many washing machines in the laundry room of Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends. She had tried before to find whatever the sheet had gotten snagged on inside the machine, but that had been to little avail as all she was able to locate was more bed sheet. Now, all Frankie could do was this agonizingly long game of tug-of-war with the animate object, one in which unfortunately at the moment she appeared to be losing at.
'Oh but Miss Frances, just think of all the water that we'll save if you put just a few more sheets at a time when you do the daily wash.' She said sarcastically to herself in a mockingly fake British accent, before slipping into an angry rant. 'Stupid Mr. Herriman for stupid telling me to put more stupid sheets at once in a stupid wash! Conservation my ass! Do I have to go through this every single day just so Sir Fuzz-butt can save a couple dollars on the water bill? Screw that! I just…want…this…to…come…OUT!' she screeched, going at it again in her one-sided tug-of-war-game. However, after another good minute of fruitless pulling, supplemented by plenty of angry swears, Frankie finally threw her end down with an angry groan. Massaging her temples, the defeated redhead sat down dejectedly in a nearby pile of clothes waiting to be washed.
Once again, her all-too-numerous duties as caretaker of Foster's seemed to be getting the best of her once again. Why did this always happen?This made absolutely no sense to her at all. It was basically the same routine every day; get up, feed the friends, clean up for the friends, clean up the house for the friends, clean the bed sheets and clothes for the friends, feed the friends again, etc, etc. With nothing to do but cook and clean, it seemed like she should've gotten this down easily long, long ago.
But no, Frankie reminded herself with a groan. It could never be that easy. It was always something. Dinner would burn to a total crisp just because she got sidetracked for a minute. Every time she would need to make an emergency trip to the store, the Foster's bus would conveniently break down. She would be ordered to go and break up a water balloon fight on the ninth floor while she would still be cleaning up breakfast on the first floor. Sometimes she would simply mix things up in all the chaos that went on at the house, like accidentally throwing the turkey for that night's dinner into the dryer and tossing the good towels into the oven.
Also of course, there was always the endless parade of bizarre messes and accidents that it was always her job to clean up every day. Just last week, much to her great displeasure, she found that she had to suddenly deal with what felt like two tons of tapioca pudding that 'mysteriously' appeared in the fourth hallway, covering the walls from head to toe. Five hours straight, ankle deep in gooey gelatin dessert, that had not been a fun day as she remembered none to fondly. However, of course, not even this was the worst of her troubles. Through all the cleaning, cooking, mopping, stewing, fixing, Frankie never had a second's rest from the constant orders, lectures and reprimands of one Mr. Herriman. Always criticizing her work, giving her five new chores when she just finished one, always needing her at the most inappropriate at times (how many times he burst into her room while she was dressing she stopped counting a while ago), all his stupid sayings and proverbs, etc. etc. Despite the fact that he was her beloved grandmother's imaginary friend, one day she would just like to grab the stuck-up rabbit by the ears, take a mop handle, and…
Whoa, geez! Let's not go overboard here! Just forget about it. Frankie thought to herself with another depressed sigh. She just had let it go. That was the way things were, that was the way they were going to be. She had to face the facts, suck it up, and take on her endless list of chores, alone, as she always did.
Well, not completely alone. As if on cue, the laundry room doors suddenly burst open. Frankie reacted quickly by shielding her eyes, as almost heavenly rays of light flooded the room and shined down upon the dejected twenty-two year old. As if sent by divine intervention to aid the girl in her hour of need, a small figure, gloriously bathed in light, slowly entered the room. After he few steps, he halted, turned to the aid-stricken caretaker, and proclaimed…
'Geez, Frankie, turn some lights on in here!' Mac said as he flipped on a couple nearby switches. 'I know you don't like laundry duty, but c'mon! It's like you're working in a dungeon here!'
For one of the first times that day, Frankie could feel the beginnings of a small smile take form on her face as she watched the little eight-year-old deposit his mop and bucket nearby.
'I'm all done with the floors, Frankie. They're so clean you could probably serve dinner on them tonight!' he declared with a grin. The girl chuckled at his upbeat attitude and gave the boy an affectionate pat on the head.
'Oh Mac, I'll say it again, you're simply the best! Thank you soooo much! I swear, I would've gone crazy if I had to clean up every hallway floor after this. Then again, if it wasn't for you and Wilt too, they probably would've had to ship me off to the loony bin months ago. Now then, if only SOMEONE was as cooperative as you…' she said with a growl, shooting the still half-unloaded bed sheet a dirty look.
'Stuck sheet?' Mac asked, noticing the evil glare the girl was giving the laundry.
'Yeah.' Frankie grumbled as Mac helped her up from her nest in the laundry pile. 'I swear, I'll been wrestling with that thing for a good ten minutes now, and it still won't come out. Nuts to what the bunny says, from now on we're putting on smaller loads in the wash. Anyway, can you lend me a hand here?'
Mac nodded, grabbing on to it while Frankie held on from behind. 'Okay, now on the count of three, we both pull. Got it? One…two…three! WHOA!'
Mac's extra help did just the trick for the stubborn sheet. With the pair's combined effort, it instantly came loose from the machine with one swift tug. However, once it was freed, Mac immediately let go, leaving Frankie to become caught up in the overwhelming momentum of their duel pull. With a squeal of dismay, the girl tumbled backwards, landing rather ungracefully into a pile of dirty laundry, which just happened to unfortunately consist mainly of socks and imaginary friend undergarments. Once Frankie sat up, a sweaty sock sat draped over one ear like a very peculiar earring, while a pair of underwear hung neatly from her ponytail. The very sight caused Mac to burst out laughing, earning him a very irritated look from Frankie.
'What? What's so fun-EEEWWWW! Oh, sick! Grossgrossgrossgrossgross…' Frankie screamed in disgust, frantically batting off the dirty clothing. Mac only laughed even harder at her utter dismay,while she shot hima very dirty look.
'Hey, stop it! Seriously, This isn't funny!' Frankie snapped as she wiped away one last tube sock. The boy quickly put a sudden halt to his laughter when she got up and stood over him menacingly, arms crossed and face distorted into an angry frown. For a few moments, Mac just stood frozen in fright, unsure of what to do next. Only after a moment of this stern treatment though, Frankie's frown suddenly flipped itself over into a devious grin.
'Now THIS is funny!' In a few lightning fast movements she grabbed Mac and playfully tackled him back onto the laundry pile. Immediately his laughter started up again full swing as Frankie tickled him furiously.
'Aha! Now I gotcha! Tickle tickle tickle!' she laughed, while Mac desperately tried to squirm his way out of her grip.
'Ack! Tee-hee! N-no! Hahaha! F-Frankie, cut it out! Ha ha!' he tried to plead through his incessant giggling.
'Cootchie cootchie coo!' Frankie just replied, redoubling her efforts.
'Heeheehee! Cutitout! Cutitout! Ha ha! B-backup! I need backup! Whoahaha!' Mac yelled.
'Backup? Now what are you-OOMPF!' Frankie grunted as a small blue blur darted into the laundry room, landing square on her back.
'You can't do that to my best friend!' Bloo yelled in a heroic manner as he held on to Frankie's sweater hood and rained down small blows with his little fists. 'Now you must pay the price! Prepare for a world of hurt! Take this, evil caretaking fiend! And that! Yeah! Pedal to the medal! Bam! You got nothin'! Pow! I have the power! Take this, and that, and a little more-
While pinning Mac down with one hand, Frankie easily reached around her back, snagged Bloo by the arm, and plopped him unceremoniously besides his creator.
Mac Fosters Home For Imaginary Friends X Reader Lemon
'EEK!' Bloo squealed as Frankie began give him the same Mac was getting. 'I take it back! I take it back! Uncle! Uncle!'
'Ha ha! I'm invincible!' Frankie laughed triumphantly as she had both child and friend in her tickly grip. 'You really that you could take me on in here, on my home turf?' she joked. 'I can take both of you on anytime! No one can stand up to Frances Bridgett Foster in the laundry room!'
'What about us who are taller than you when standing?' Someone asked from behind. Frankie turned around to see an unusually lanky imaginary friend peeking in from the hallway, wearing a ridiculously happy smile plastered on his face.
'Stay away, Wilt! Just because you're twice my height doesn't mean I won't take you down too!' Frankie laughed, never ceasing her efforts on Bloo and Mac, who were both practically screaming with laughter at this point.
'Oh, we'll see about that!' Wilt chuckled, joining in on the fun with as he bounded in.
'You'll never take me aliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive!' Frankie squealed as Wilt grabbed her with his good arm, hoisting her up in the air and flipping her upside down. Frankie squeaked in dismay as she quickly reached down (or up in this case) to keep her denim skirt in place while she hung in her precarious position. However, while focusing on this she left her sides completely unguarded, which Bloo and Mac attacked with no mercy.
'She's all yours, guys! Go for it!' Wilt laughed.
'Unfair advantage, YES!' Bloo yelled triumphantly, tickling her ribs relentlessly.
'Ha! Who thinks this is funny now?' snickered Mac as Frankie wriggled helplessly in midair, laughing hysterically.
'AAA! Stoppit! Tee-hee-hee! No fair! No fair! Three on one advantage! Hahahaha! Stoppit, guys! Sto-'
'WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?' someone suddenly yelled through the chaos. In an instant, Bloo and Mac put a halt to their assault on Frankie, while Wilt quickly but gently set her down. Quickly, the four stood at attention to the rather large rabbit that had just entered the room with a very dignified hop. Mr. Herriman eyed the four with a very stern glare, eyeing them like a drill sergeant would his troops.
'Miss Frances and Masters Mac, Wilt, and Blooraguard! I'm quite surprised at all of you! You all know full well that such roughhousing is strictly forbidden!' he reprimanded them vigorously. 'And especially you, Miss. Frances! Such behavior from you especially is simply unacceptable! Being house staff, and of course being a house resident since you were but a child, you of all people should be fully aware of the house rules by now! I can't but imagine the atrocious model you're setting for Master Mac at this very instant! Well Miss Frances, what to you have to say yourself?' he demanded sternly.
Despite the harsh rebuking, the still-giddy Frankie was forced to bite down hard on her lip to keep from giggling throughout the entire lecture. Clasping her hands behind her back and blushing a bit, she acted more like a naughty child than the twenty-two year old culprit she actually was.
'Um, heehee…er…laundry's almost done, Mr. H.' she managed to say rather sheepishly.
'The floors are all mopped too.' Mac chuckled, wiping away the tears from his eyes.
Mr. Herriman continued to glare at them harshly before finally relenting. If there was one thing the stuck-up rabbit couldn't argue against, it was a job well done.
'Right then! I suppose I can't argue against that! But just you remember, I want no more of such fuss out of any of you. Agreed? Excellent! Carry on!' And with that he turned about and hopped briskly from the room, only to poke his head back in after a few moments
'Oh, and Miss Francis, please start preparing for dinner shortly! I'd like it served no later than in an hour, at six o'clock precisely.' He reminded. Frankie, who had been hoping for some free time since the mopping was completed, naturally groaned unhappily at this.
However, she wasn't the only when to react unfavorably to this news. The instant he heard the time, all the pallor seemed to drain from Mac's face, as his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates in pure terror.
'It's 5 o'clock already? Oh no!' he gasped in horror. Immediately he began to make his way towards the doors.
'Geez, I'm sorry guys, I'd like to stay longer but I really gotta go!'
'Aw, c'mon man, it's only five! Can't you stay for dinner or something?' Bloo protested unhappily.
'No Bloo, I really gotta go! I, uh, I have, er, homework! Yeah, my teacher gave me a lot of homework tonight! I need to get home now so I can get it all done! Yeah!' Mac babbled as he anxiously backed away.
Frankie gave Mac a look of concern. 'Shoot Mac, again? This is like the third time this week. What's up with your teacher lately? It's like overnight she transformed into the schoolwork Nazi or something. Is everything okay?'
'Oh, you know, she just want to keep us busy! Heh heh!' he laughed nervously, still anxiously backing towards the door. Frankie shrugged.
'Well, I guess if you gotta go, you gotta go. Thanks for your help Mac! You did a great job today!'
'Yeah, see ya tomorrow buddy!' yelled Bloo.
'Don't let that homework get the best of you! Good luck!' said Wilt encouragingly.
'See you guys!' Mac called back with a smile, waving vigorously as he left the room hurriedly, sprinting down the many flights of stairs at Fosters and out the front door. Once he exited the gated entrance however, the smile instantly vanished from his face as he slouched over unhappily. With a weary groan he turned to the right, walking oppositely away from his apartment and instead in the direction of downtown.
'Too much schoolwork to do…pfft! Yeah right.' He grumbled miserably. 'I wish.'
'Gee Bloo, Mac was awfully lucky you and Wilt were nearby.' Chuckled Frankie as she scooped the last of the laundry into one of the machines. 'I swear, the kid was probably gonna die laughing if I didn't stop. Hee hee! Oh man, that was great!'However, Bloo did not find the whole thing as funny as she did.
'Yeah Frankie, um about that whole 'coincidence'…' he said nervously, choosing to look at the floor rather than face her.
'Wait, what?' she asked worriedly. This did not look good.
'You see, er, I was already kinda looking for you because…'
'Oh God, don't tell me…' Frankie said wearily, rubbing her temples.
'Do you remember the tapioca incident that uh...'someone' caused last week that you had to...uh...y'know...' he stammered
'Don't say it! Don't say it!' the panicked caretaker began to beg. 'If you're going to say what I think you're going to say…'
'Um, ha ha, er, the funny thing is, um… I, wait, I mean, 'he' showed up again, and…er…well, you managed to take care of the tapioca so well and… do you think you could to the same thing with vanilla pudding?'
'You…you…you…didn't…' she tried to get the words out, but couldn't as something caught her eye. Frankie's jaw dropped and her eyes bulged in absolute horror as she looked behind the small imaginary friend at the white, goopy mass that was beginning to slowly ooze past the laundry room and down the hallway. By the time she was able to comprehend what had happened, Bloo had long fled the laundry room and was racing as fast as he could to reach refuge in the farthest corners of the house. His breath coming in ragged gasps, the small light-blue friend had already raced up five flights of stairs before the entire house seemed to reverberate with the loudest shriek any Foster's resident had every heard.
'BLOOOOOOOOOOOO!'
Well, there you have it!The begining is only an introduction and pretty light-hearted, but this is going to get darker and more angsty as it progresses. Please read and review!'Hi, Bloo.'
Bloo stood pouting in the front doorway of Foster's after answering Mac's knock.
'Hi Mac, ready to leave yet?' he asked sarcastically.
Mac blinked. 'What?' he said. 'Bloo, are you annoyed with me because I haven't been able to stay here long the past few days?'
'Oh, noooooooo,' answered Bloo exaggeratedly, his eyes widening in mock concern. 'No, no, I don't care at all that you've only been here like, five minutes this week.' He turned and slouched off into the foyer.
'Come on, Bloo.' Mac shut the door and followed his friend. He swallowed carefully; he'd been developing a sore throat. 'I told you I've had a lot of homework.'
Of course, he'd had the same amount of homework as always, but it felt like more because he'd started helping Terrence out with his, after the older boy accidentally let it slip that he was probably failing enough of his courses to get held back (he made Mac swear on pain of Indian burns not to tell Mom). First Mac was showing Terrence how to use the spell-check on his computer (the boy's spelling and grammar were atrocious, which is what had sided the principal with Mom so fast in the Essay Incident); next thing he knew he was helping Terrence with the Geometry flashcards Ms. Yeates had made. He didn't need to know Chemistry or Spanish or American History to help Terrence review from the textbooks, and he liked doing it. It felt nice to do something with his brother that didn't involve toilet water or spitballs or anything that left marks on the skin. Not to say that Terrence wasn't still kicking him around occasionally, it was just that the older boy was so busy studying most of the time after school now that he didn't make an event out of abusing his kid brother like he used to when he was bored. The best perk was that Terrence let Mac use his computer now when he wanted to, so Mac didn't have to beg Frankie anymore to let him play around with hers (which was never any fun because Frankie tended to hover over him the whole time making sure he didn't do anything catastrophic to 'her baby').
Bloo whirled around suddenly. 'Are you avoiding me?' he accused.
Mac stopped in his tracks. 'What?' he said again. 'Bloo, come on, why would I do that?'
Bloo marched up to his creator. 'You've been spending an awful lot of time away from this house, mister,' he pointed out, prodding Mac in the chest with one shapeless hand. He drew back, the corners of his mouth turned down and his lower lip trembling. 'Don't you like me anymore?'
Mac knew it was an act but he wasn't callous about it. 'I'm sorry, Bloo,' he apologized as Bloo turned his back on him. 'You're right...I'll stay longer today.' He gently cleared his aching throat.
Bloo whirled around gleefully. 'All right!' he enthused. 'Come on! There's lots of stuff we could do! Um...now let's see, what can we do around this dump...'
Mac smiled and followed Bloo deeper into the house.
The next day Mac was sent home from school with a fully-developed sore throat. Mom left work early to take care of him, and when Terrence came home he found Mom on the phone with the pediatrician. She finished up her conversation as he was dumping his backpack on the couch, but before he could ask her what she was doing home she grabbed her coat from the closet and said, 'Terrence, I need to take your brother to the doctor. If we're not back by six go ahead and eat something out of the fridge.' She hurried down the hall and Terrence heard her speaking to Mac, asking him to get dressed. They came out a few minutes later, Mac looking a little pale.
'What's he got?' Terrence asked bluntly.
'The doctor's not sure but he wants to see him right away. See you later tonight sweetie,' Mom replied, and then they both left.
Terrence tried doing a Spanish assignment but couldn't get into it so he turned the TV on instead to watch a rerun of The Loved and the Loveless. Mom and Mac were home by five, and Mom put Mac to bed immediately.
'He dyin' or what?' Terrence asked boredly when Mom came back into the room.
Mom gave her son an exasperated look and went to the kitchen to fix dinner. 'Dr. Baliwaran says Mac just has a sore throat, and that its not the strep that's going around.'
Terrence looked up from the TV. 'So...he's stuck in the house, then?'
'Yes, for a while,' was the reply. 'I've asked Mrs. Stephens to stay here during the day, that way I don't have to take off of work.' Mrs. Stephens was a kind old lady who lived a few doors down all alone with her cats.
Terrence looked back at the TV and pondered. This wasn't Mac's first illness since leaving Bloo at Foster's, but it sounded like the first one that would confine him to bed for more than a couple of days. Was it all right if Mac didn't go to the foster home for several days at a time? What about a week? Or more? Terrence stared in the direction of the TV, not really paying attention to the program anymore. Would Bloo get adopted to some other kid? An interesting idea. Terrence wondered why he never thought of rendering Mac bedridden before so he wouldn't be able to go see Bloo. That would have been pretty sweet. Well, now was the opportunity for Mac to lose Bloo once and for all, it seemed. The only downside to this was that Terrence would pretty much lose the trump card he held now regarding squealing on Mom about the secret daily visits to Foster's. That kinda sucked.
Terrence was in a quandary. Let Bloo rot all alone at Foster's until he was taken away by another kid or make sure he stayed there so Mac could keep on visiting him until Terrence dropped The Big One on Mom and got Mac grounded for life, when the time was really right. It was a tough decision.
'Hello,' said Frankie, opening the door. 'How can I help...' She trailed off uncertainly. 'I...know you, right?'
Terrence slouched on the porch, hands deep in pockets. 'I'm Mac's brother,' he said.
'Oh, yes.' Now Frankie remembered him. She lost her friendly demeanor. 'Mac isn't here.'
Terrence rolled his eyes behind his glasses. 'I know he's not here,' he said. 'That's why I'm here. I – '
'IsitMacisitMacisitMac?' Bloo suddenly bounded into view excitedly. When he saw who it really was he growled like a savage hyena. 'What are you doing here you – ' Suddenly he stopped, gaped at Terrence, and fell on the floor laughing fit to bust a gut.
'What's the matter with you?' Frankie asked, annoyed, having to sidestep the rolling blue friend to keep from being knocked over.
Bloo sat up halfway and pointed at the less-than-pleased looking teen on the porch. 'Oh man, oh man!' he wheezed between fits of giggles. 'The nerdwear is priceless!'
Terrence blinked a couple of times, then advanced with his fists clenched. 'Come out here and say that, you little turd!' he yelled angrily. Frankie, who had heard enough about the way Terrence treated poor little Mac, stepped between them.
'Hey!' she said sharply to Terrence, blocking him from entering. 'You are not welcome here. If you don't leave right now I'll...I'll call Mr. Herriman!'
Bloo stopped laughing at once and stood up. 'Ugh, please don't,' he said. He peeked around Frankie's legs. 'Too bad, so sad, you can't come in to play Terrence,' Bloo sang. 'Why don't you go home and find something nice and simple to do that doesn't require too many brain cells.'
Terrence reddened, glaring at Bloo, then he remembered why he was there. 'Oh, okay,' he said coolly, turning to go. 'Have a nice life with your new kid.' He went down one porch step.
Bloo frowned. 'What does that mean?' he called.
'Yeah, what does that mean?' added Frankie.
'Oh,' said Terrence casually, half-turning back, gripping the straps of his backpack. 'Well, with Mac sick in bed for what might be a long time and not being able to come over here to keep you from being adopted – well, you can take care of yourself, can't you?' He descended another two steps.
'Waitaminnit.' Bloo swerved around Frankie to come out onto the porch. 'Mac's sick?'
'Oh yeah. Way sick.' Another step.
Bloo narrowed his eyes. 'And you came here to gloat about it, is that it?'
'Nope. I came over here to take his place so you don't get adopted. But it was a bad idea. Never mind.' And with that Terrence went down the rest of the steps and started walked down the pathway back to the sidewalk.
'Woah, woah, wait!' Bloo zoomed ahead of Terrence and blocked his path. 'Hold on. What's your scheme?'
Terrence shrugged. 'I just want to do something nice for my poor sick brother,' he smirked, enjoying himself just a tad.
'Aw, that's really sweet,' said Frankie brightly.
'No it's not!' yelled Bloo, pointing at her. 'This is Terrence. Terrence is not sweet! He's evil! Evil I say! He's the firey incarnation of Beelzebub himself!'
Terrence grinned. Cool.
'Oh come on,' said Frankie, coming down the steps. 'It might be the only thing that keeps you from getting adopted before Mac gets better. Let's ask Mr. Herriman if he'll allow it.' She smiled at Terrence. 'Come on in, Terrence, and we'll get you a soda or something.' She turned and went back up the steps. Terrence treated Bloo to an extremely smug look before following her.
Bloo seethed on the path for a few moments before flouncing irritably after them.
'Yes, yes, I think I understand,' Mr. Herriman harrumphed thoughtfully after the situation had been explained. 'Yes, I do believe Mac's own sibling would make a suitable substitution during his absence. Master Blooregard, you can consider yourself in this young man's custody for the time being.'
Terrence shot Bloo a satisfied smirk and Bloo turned a shade lighter.
'But Mr. Herriman!' the friend whined.
'Not another word about it. You've been enough trouble around here as it is, and I expect you to behave for your temporary guardian.' He turned to Terrence. 'And as for you, young man, I expect you to be on your best behavior as well.'
'You got it, Mr. Cottontail.'
The rabbit might have frowned, if anyone could tell the difference. 'That's Herriman,' he clarified, then hopped off.
Bloo stood before Terrence defiantly. 'I am not hanging out with him,' he asserted to Frankie, pointing up at the boy.
Terrence shrugged. 'Whatever,' he said. 'I just have to come over here every day, no one's said I have to babysit your blue behind.'
Frankie frowned. 'Then what are you going to do while you're here?'
Terrence shrugged again. 'I have final tests coming up,' he replied. 'I need to do my homework.'
'Ha!' screamed Bloo, waving his arms. 'Terrence doesn't do homework! He does...Terrence things! He's up to something!'
'Oh knock it off, Bloo!' snapped Frankie. 'He's agreed to come over here every day after school and the weekends until Mac gets better, and you're being very rude!' She turned back to Terrence. 'You can use the library. Would that be okay?' she asked him kindly.
Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends Mac X Reader
'Yes ma'am,' said Terrence, laying it on thick. As soon as Frankie turned to lead him to the library he made a point of turning his head to sneer at Bloo. Then they went up the stairs, leaving Bloo alone in the foyer to simmer in fury.
'Whatever he's up to, he won't get away with it,' Bloo muttered darkly.
'Who's up to something?' asked Eduardo, wandering in from the back yard.
'Mac's evil brother!' exclaimed Bloo so loudly that Eduardo jumped several feet in the air.
'Evil brother? Oh no!' cried Eduardo, trembling. 'What he do?'
'I don't know yet,' Bloo admitted. 'But whatever it is, I'm going to stop him, no matter what it takes.' His eyes narrowed as he rubbed his hands together, and he gave an evil chuckle. 'No matter what it takes,' he repeated, and erupted in full-blown maniacal laughter.
'You're scaring me,' whispered Eduardo.
'Oh, sorry Ed,' Bloo apologized quickly.
'Terrence!' Mom yelled when her son dragged himself through the apartment's front door well after seven, covered with yellow feathers and hardened black paint. 'What on Earth have you been doing?'
'My homework,' snapped Terrence, stalking off to the bathroom.