#// just realized uh...happy...april fools????

[ravenclaw-for-all-seasons]

Be my Valentine? Mattheo Riddle (1/2)

Mattheo Riddle had never been the type to get all soft and sentimental, which is exactly why his friends were completely dumbfounded when they caught wind of his elaborate plans for Valentine’s Day.

“You—you actually planned something?” Theo stammered, watching as Mattheo adjusted the bouquet of enchanted blue roses in his hands. They shimmered slightly, their petals shifting between different shades of blue—Ravenclaw colors, of course.

Draco narrowed his eyes. “You do realize what day it is, right? Valentine’s Day, not April Fool’s.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes. “Yes, Draco, I’m aware.”

Lorenzo let out a low whistle. “Wow. You’re really in deep, mate.”

Mattheo just smirked, shoving his friends aside as he made his way toward the Ravenclaw common room. The whole castle had been buzzing about the infamous Slytherin bad boy actually putting effort into something romantic—a rare sight, indeed.

But when he finally saw you, his usually cocky demeanor faltered just a bit. You were sitting by the fireplace, nose buried in a book as always, completely oblivious to the whispers of students watching to see what he'd do.

Clearing his throat, Mattheo stepped forward. “Happy Valentine’s Day, love,” he said, holding out the bouquet.

You blinked up at him, clearly surprised. “You… got me flowers?”

Mattheo chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well. They’re enchanted. Thought you’d appreciate the charm work.”

You smiled, setting your book aside and taking the bouquet. “They’re beautiful.”

The whispers around you grew louder as Mattheo suddenly pulled out a small wrapped box from his pocket. “And, uh, I also got you this.”

The entire room went dead silent.

Theo, watching from the entrance, nearly choked. “A gift too?! Is he possessed?”

Ignoring them, you unwrapped the box, revealing a delicate silver bracelet with a tiny raven charm dangling from it. Your heart melted. “Mattheo, this is—this is perfect.”

He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, but the pink dusting his cheeks gave him away. “Figured you deserved something nice. You put up with me, after all.”

You grinned before standing on your toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “You’re the best.”

Mattheo smirked, throwing an arm around you as he turned toward his dumbfounded friends. “See? Told you I could be romantic.”

Draco shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

Theo just sighed. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

But Mattheo didn’t care. Not when he had you smiling at him like that.

You laced your fingers through Mattheo’s, ignoring the way his friends were still staring at him like he’d grown a second head. It wasn’t every day that the infamous Slytherin bad boy voluntarily planned something thoughtful—let alone something as sweet as this.

Mattheo, never one to enjoy being the center of attention for this kind of thing, turned to his friends with an unimpressed look. “Are you lot done gawking, or should I put on a whole bloody performance?”

Theo crossed his arms. “I mean, at this point, you might as well. Maybe recite a sonnet?”

Draco snorted. “Or get down on one knee?”

Mattheo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Merlin, you lot are insufferable.” But then he turned back to you, his fingers playing with the bracelet now fastened around your wrist. His voice dropped to something quieter, meant just for you. “I do have more planned, if you’re up for it.”

Your brows lifted in amusement. “Oh? What else does the great Mattheo Riddle have in store?”

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you, now would it?”

Before you could respond, Pansy Parkinson strolled past, doing a double take when she saw the two of you. Her eyes flickered to the flowers, the bracelet, and the way Mattheo’s hand was still holding yours. “No way.” She turned to the group. “Alright, which one of you Obliviated him?”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, but before his friends could add more commentary, he tugged you toward the door. “Come on, love, let’s get out of here before they start a betting pool on whether or not I’ve lost my mind.”

“Too late,” Theo called after him.

As you walked down the corridor together, you looked up at him, your heart warm at the effort he’d put into today. “You really didn’t have to do all this, you know.”

He glanced down at you, his usual smirk softening. “I wanted to.” He squeezed your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You’re my girl, and I figured… well, you deserve something special.”

Your smile was radiant, and Mattheo felt something unfamiliar stir in his chest—something warm, something undeniably real.

You squeezed Mattheo’s hand, warmth spreading through you at his words. The boy who was known for his sharp tongue, reckless behavior, and general disregard for authority had just planned an entire Valentine’s surprise for you. If that wasn’t shocking enough, he actually seemed nervous about it—like he genuinely cared about making the day special.

“So,” you said, nudging him playfully as you walked, “where are you taking me, Riddle?”

His smirk returned, the mischief back in his eyes. “Patience, love. You’ll see soon enough.”

Despite the vague answer, he led you with confidence through the castle, his pace quickening as you reached the grand staircase. Students whispered as you passed, still in disbelief that Mattheo Riddle—the Mattheo Riddle—was walking hand-in-hand with his Ravenclaw girlfriend, looking genuinely happy about it.

When you finally reached the Astronomy Tower, you gasped softly. The usually cold and dimly lit space had been transformed. A thick enchanted blanket covered the stone floor, radiating warmth, while floating lanterns hovered around, casting a soft golden glow. A small spread of food was laid out—chocolate, fresh fruit, and what looked like your favorite pastries from Hogsmeade.

You turned to Mattheo, eyes wide. “You… did all this?”

He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets, but you didn’t miss the way his ears turned pink. “Well, I had some help with the food. Obviously I wasn’t about to bake or some shit.”

You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you did all this.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, his gaze meeting yours, something softer in his expression now, “I figured you deserved something nice. Something… I dunno, special.”

Your heart clenched. The notorious Slytherin troublemaker, the boy who acted like he didn’t care about anything, had gone through all this effort for you.

Overwhelmed with emotion, you stood on your toes and cupped his face, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. He stilled for half a second before melting into it, his hands settling on your waist, pulling you closer.

When you pulled away, you grinned. “You’re actually a big softie, aren’t you?”

Mattheo groaned, resting his forehead against yours. “Don’t let that get around, love. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

You giggled, tugging him down onto the enchanted blanket with you. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

As the two of you sat together, sharing chocolate and watching the stars, Mattheo realized something—he didn’t mind being soft, not when it was with you.

[cupcakewebkinz]

April Fools shitfic... No more explanation.

(Uhm this is full of nonsense so read at your own risk because I'm so not sure how to tag any of this)

There's wholesome Shellevision at the end, implied Ragebait, and a lot of ooc moments. It's a joke, so don't take it seriously please. Happy April Fools

It was a normal morning in Gardenview, well, that's what Shelly assumed as she groggily walked into the elevator to get her breakfast. She had a killer stomachache and her body was sore, but she assumed she had simply slept wrong so she just wanted to get some food and coffee and hoped it went away eventually. She yawned as she pressed the button to go to the cafeteria, then she just sat down beside the control pannel and leaned against the wall of the elevator, taking a deep breath as she closed her eyes. She felt like shit... She probably looked like it too, but that's okay, she knew she would be fine. Maybe. She looked over when the elevator opened earlier than expected and saw that she was on the right floor... Though she swore the cafe was further down than what it felt like. Maybe she's just wrong... She had no idea. She just slowly got up and walked out of the elevator, walking into the dinning area of the cafeteria. She looked around a bit before she decided she'd talk to people after she got food and just walked over to the counter to order, however she stopped near it as she started questioning her sanity even more. There were a bunch of child sized Rodgers, all staring up at Sprout, all chanting "we are the Rodgerlings, feed us research" as the strawberry man stared at them with fear. It was clear Sprout had no idea what to do, so he did what he could do and grabbed some educational cook books and threw them as far as he could, and the army ran off after them. Sprout sighed in relief before going back to his usual spot... So Shelly quietly approached and looked up at him. He looked back at her, then raised an eyebrow. She blinked a few times... Usually he was the first to greet her, but maybe he was tired?

"Good morning Sprout, uh, do you guys have any-"

"No. Go away. I'm not feeding every goddamn toon here anymore, I'm done. I would've quit if I could, but nooooo, I gotta pretend we're selling shit still! Go bother Cosmo or something, I need a fucking drink." He snapped, then he grabbed a bottle of rootbeer and turned away from her, making Shelly squint at him in pure confusion. What in Delilah's name was going on today..? Why was everything so weird..? She rubbed the back of her head as she slowly walked away, looking around to see if anyone could possibly have anything she could eat. She was so hungry... It felt like she hasn't eaten in months. She swore she ate last night though, and that Sprout was just fine last night, and that there was only one Rodger last night. She couldn't wrap her head around any of this... She soon realized that Gigi had a box of donuts in hand and walked over to her, wondering if she'd possibly share any of them. However, before she asked, Gigi just hissed at her like a cat and protected the box like it was her prized possession. That... Was honestly kind of normal, Gigi didn't like sharing her collections, but she usually was much nicer than that. Shelly decided not to question it as she raised her hands up to show that she didn't want to harm her, backing away from her before turning and just speed walking away. She looked around again, hoping to maybe find someone sane, and sighed in relief when she saw Goob. How could he possibly hate anyone? Maybe he'd share something with her, or explain why everyone was being a jerk, or maybe just give her a hug. However, when she walked over, he just stared at her in confusion.

"What? I don't have anything for you." He stated simply, then frowned at her when she silently asked for a hug. He just shook his head, so she lowered her arms and just hugged herself instead, sighing as she tried to hold back her tears. Goob even hated her... What did she do to deserve that..? She decided to look for Vee, maybe her partner was normal, maybe she'd be able to make her morning a little better! Yeah! She looked around as she walked away from Goob, looking for her partner to maybe just get some answers at least. Though when she found her, she froze immediately as she saw Vee laying across a table with plates balancing on her antenna, Glisten casually putting more on there while Yatta and Looey watched in amazement. What the fuck?

"I told you guys, I can balance things really well. I bet if I had a nose, I could balance more on there too. I'm just that good." Vee stated as she looked at the circus duo, though Yatta started clapping anyways.

"You're like, so cool though!! That's so cool!!" She replied happily, getting a head tilt from Shelly as she slowly walked over. What the hell..? Was she losing her mind..? They were not acting at all like themselves, Vee usually avoided Yatta like the plague, Glisten usually wouldn't be helping anyone do stupid stunts like this, Looey even was oddly silent and Yatta was so still- Shelly felt like she lost it, what was going on!

"Heyyy... What's going on over here..?" Shelly quietly asked, watching as all her friends just looked at her like they didn't know who she was. Even Vee was confused, and she was her girlfriend! Why would her girlfriend forget her?

"Why the hell are you here? Didn't you tell me you wanted nothing to do with me?" Vee snapped at her, getting a death glare from her immediately afterwards. Glisten soon followed, crossing his arms and just shooting her the nastiest glare imaginable. Shelly felt so heartbroken and confused, why would she ever say anything like that? She just shook her head and turned away from them, hugging herself as she quickly walked off and looked around for anyone else to talk to. She needed to figure out what the hell was going on... Why her own partner hated her... Why everyone hated her... Why everything fucking hurt so much. She found Finn talking to Shrimpo at a nearby table and chose to approach them, sitting down at their table. They both looked at her and smiled, which filled her with relief until she realized... Shrimpo was smiling. That shrimp never smiles... What the hell?

"Hey Shells, what's going on today? Finally done yelling at everyone?" Finn asked casually, making Shelly just stare at him like he was insane. What was he talking about..?

"Uh, yeah, I guess so, why is everyone so mad at me? I don't remember a thing..." Shelly admitted, getting a concerned look from the two as they looked at each other.

"I hate being the one to ask this, but did you hit your damn head? You were screaming at everyone and told Vee to fuck out of your life for kissing Glisten as a joke. You were definitely an asshole, even more than I usually am." Shrimpo casually stated, shoving the box of donuts he and Finn were sharing over to her for her to eat. She immediately shoved them back as she looked at the table, her body now shaking like a leaf, her hunger no longer there. She did... What? Before she could even ask, she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she looked over at who it belonged to. It was Astro, looking absolutely concerned and confused.

"Shelly can we... Go talk in the hallway for a second?" He asked, and she just nodded as she quickly got up, hoping that someone around here was normal. She turned and looked at where Vee had been before they could even move... And she immediately spontaneously combusted upon eye contact. Looey was now sobbing, and Yatta just slowly blinked. What the fuck? Shelly must've asked that one out loud as Astro now was giving her a glare.

"Shelly Fossilian, watch your mouth." He warned softly, then he gently started leading her off, and she just silently accepted it. Though when they were in the hallway alone, Shelly moved away from him slightly, hugging herself again as she chewed on her lip, still praying to Delilah that Astro was sane. And surprisingly... He seemed to be his normal self, as he just looked at her with a concerned look as held her shoulders and looked her in the eye.

"Shelly, I am so sorry this is your dream, I came to wake you up. Because I genuinely am concerned for you." He stated, and before she could ask, he punched her in the face.

Shelly shot up in her bed with a loud whimper, her body shaking horribly bad as she felt her face. No pain. She looked over at her side, her eyes filling with tears of relief when she saw Vee there, sprawled out and snoring in sleep mode. Shelly couldn't help but sit there and watch her sleep as she quietly cried a little to herself, wondering what the hell just happened. She looked back down at herself and took a deep breath after a bit, then looked back at Vee as she wiped her tears away on the sleeve of her pajamas. Vee just kept sleeping, having absolutely no clue what Shelly was going through, and she was planning on keeping it that way. Though her plan failed when Vee went to roll over onto her other side and promptly fell off the bed instead, quickly sitting up in a daze afterwards.

"Oh... Man, that was a weird dream..." Vee just mumbled to herself as she climbed back into bed and plopped back down, laying all sprawled out again simply because she found it comfortable, then she looked at Shelly, tilting her head a little bit afterwards.

"You doing alright, Fossil? You look like a wreck..." Vee asked quietly, and Shelly just nodded, smiling a little bit. She's just so glad Vee was back to herself... That dream was so weird and felt so real, she'll never be more grateful for one being a dream than that one. She'd also never talk about it... That was just, a bit too much for her sanity.

"Just a nightmare, I'm okay, I'm just glad you're here right now. Could... We just cuddle for a bit and talk about dinosaurs?" Shelly replied quietly, and Vee smiled immediately and sat up, holding out her arms for her. Shelly just flopped down against her, smiling a little now, getting all snug against her girlfriend as she was held tight by the other.

"Obviously you can Shelly, you can always talk about dinosaurs with me. You should tell me about Oviraptors again, since you got interrupted last time." Vee suggested happily, which made Shelly giggle and nod, happy to see the happy go lucky side of Vee right now. She knew she was so lucky to know about it... And right now, it was really comforting, even if Vee will never know about it, and instead would learn about oviraptors that night. Well, oviraptors and other dinosaurs, as she knew she couldn't go back to sleep. Not after that mess... Vee was thankfully very understanding and willing to listen to her ramble all night, even if she did fall back asleep while listening. Shelly didn't care, she was just glad to have her right there to distract her from... Whatever that was. Hopefully the next morning would be actually sane... And Astro never brought up what they both witnessed because she was sure she'd cry if he did.

[a-lil-doodler]

i just realized i forgot to post my april fool's art (even without tumblr having upload issues) so uh-

happy late april fools?? idk man this weird dating sim is probs gonna give me a virus-

bonus static n w/out the filter version

[ferditheas]

For the prompt: Rhea OR Edelgard, 42. — foolish :)

tysm for the request anon!! i had a hard time picking what direction to go with on this one, but i'm pretty happy with the one i chose. set in FEH continuity for reasons which will become apparent. prompt list here!!

-

"I believe your desserts are already gone, Princess Lissa," Edelgard said, her even tone not betraying her disappointment. She had truly been looking forward to eating some sweets - especially on a day such as today. "You must be an excellent chef."

"Huh?" Lissa said. Edelgard wondered if the young woman was not used to being complimented. She thought that was a shame - though their interactions had been limited, her relationship with Lissa had been nothing but pleasant. "Uh, I bet they're not! Maybe you should just look a little closer!"

Perhaps baked goods looked different where Lissa came from. That would explain how Edelgard missed them the first time. Once again, she began to search the common room. But still she saw no plates, platters, nor trays.

What she did find were scraps of brown paper placed upon the counter. Upon closer inspection, she realized they were crudely cut out to resemble the letter E.

From behind her, Lissa began to giggle wildly. "Ha - I hope you - haha - enjoy your BROWN E'S! Happy April Fool's Day!"

What?

Oh.

Ah. Well. Edelgard understood the wordplay, but...

"April Fool's Day? Is that what you call New Year's Day in Ylisse...?"

[judesmoonbeauty]

Ikémen Villains: Surprise Bag Prologue (April Fools Day Story)

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere. Note: This is the prologue of a story yet that is not yet available. The story set will most likely not be purchased, but this was too funny not to translate the prologue at least. Dividers: @/natimiles

I think I've developed a tolerance for the extraordinary since I became a fairy tale keeper.

However, there are things that happen in Crown that easily surpass even my experience level.

Jude: Good morning, Kate. I'll make you happy today.

Kate: Jude, did you hit your head?

Jude: What? I haven't been hit anywhere. I'm fine.

Kate: What happened to your usual prickly attitude? A cold? An Injury? Let’s go to the hospital anyway!

Ellis: Damn, what the hell is going on here?

Jude: Oh, Jude. 

Jude: Huh? Why is Jude me?

Ellis: That's my line. Why did you become me?

Kate: Uh, what?

Elbert: Ah, well! That was very amusing, wasn't it?

Kate: Al….. eh, Elbert?

Kate: Then you don't mean to say that Alfons in the back...

Alfons: I looked in the mirror and saw Al.

Elbert: It's interesting to look at yourself objectively in this way.

Elbert: Oh, Elle. Please speak with more energy, because it’s creepy to me.

Alfons: More….energy?

Alfons: Aha……!

Elbert: I was wrong to ask you to cheer me up. 

Kate: Maybe, maybe not. 

Kate: Jude and Ellis have switched places, and Elbert with Alphonse!

Kate: How did you get into such a weird situation? 

Ellis: It was probably caused by that quack doctor.

When the entire Crown gathered to pursue the matter with Mr. Roger, he laughed teasingly.

Roger: Sorry, sorry. I didn't realize the effect would be so great. Aren’t I a genius?

Victor: Roger, this isn’t good! How could something so cute...be such a big deal?

Liam: Victor, your thoughts are leaking out and your words don't match your expression.

Roger: I've been researching whether the curse can be passed on by replacing a cursed person with a normal person.

William: Your insatiable inquisitive spirit is astounding. But then shouldn't we experiment with humans and cursed people?

Roger: It would be dangerous if something happened to them other than the cursed ones. We need to experiment with these guys first.

Harrison: What do you think we are? We die normally too.

Elbert: It's time to sink these muscular glasses into the Thames.

Ellis: That's right. If we put a weight on it and dump it in the water, that's the end of it.

Kate: Hey, please stop saying such disturbing things with Elbert’s and Ellis’ faces!”

Jude: But Roger is amazing, isn't he? He can make such an amazing medicine.

Liam: Jude is being so fluffy. No, it's confusing!

Roger: Don't worry. If you let me take your data, I'll make you a proper antidote.

Roger: If I make an antidote, I can try it on someone else later, I guess…..

Harrison: Did you just say something disturbing?

Roger: No?

Elbert: I mean, how can I negotiate with you? I'm too speechless, please die.

Harrison: Wow, eh…….Liam? Hey. Are you sleeping?

Jude: Sorry, it’s my fault for poking him on the forehead. I was just wondering if I could use Jude's ability.

Roger: Oh, so you've inherited the ability too? Aren’t I a genius after all?

(It’s getting hard to keep up!)

Kate: And, in the meantime, please give them the antidote, Roger!

Kate: I can only imagine what would happen if Her Majesty were to hear about this.

Roger: You’re right. I might be fired.

Roger: So, keep an eye on them to make sure they don't snitch on me, little lady.

Kate: Huh, Roger? Wait!

Ellis: Tch……good for nothing. Get carelessly fired.

Jude: Oh, Jude. No smoking in my body. 

Ellis: *Cough*…first of all. Ellis, you should at least smoke one of those cigarettes and train yourself.

Elbert: Don't you think this face would make up for any wrongdoing?

Alfons: Kate, is this spoon beautiful?

Kate: Oh, I think I'm going crazy..!

I hope this is a bad lie on April 1st. But the scene in front of me tells me it is true.

At this time I still do not know. That more comedy awaits us in the future. To be continued…..if you purchase the story set once available.

[Master List]

[blackcatxmagic]

The question that Vivian asked him should have been an easy one to answer. This was his brother and sister after all, and he had known them their entire lives, 16 years. Or was it 17? Griffin had a moment where he mentally kicked himself because who the hell didn't remember their own siblings' ages? But Griffin had been very much on the periphery of his family for sometime now, so it made sense he couldn't remember. Don't justify this, he thought, frustrated with himself. While it was true that Griffin hadn't been close at all with his parents for many years now, decades even, he had tried hard to remain close to his siblings. But had they ever been close? After all, they were very young when Griffin had left Cardinal Hill for Providence. Regardless though, Griffin wanted to be close now, so he should know their ages. They're 17, he remembered now. They just turned 17 on April Fool's Day.

Griffin realized he still hadn't answered Vivian's question, and while his internal debate hadn't lasted very long, the pause was still longer than generally warranted such a simple question. "You know," he said finally, "I don't really know the answer to that. I uh...I've been gone for a long time and am just now here living with them again. They're 17, and I know Sparrow loves horror, and Colt is more of a comedy guy. Neither likes historical movies, which is great because those are boring as hell." Griffin laughed, feeling better now - he did know their preferences, at least a little bit. "So either I'm renting a horror movie and a comedy, or you've got something that's both," he said. Griffin sighed, knowing he was rambling, and he looked down at his t-shirt. Even now that he was aware of his own rambling, he still continued. "Sparrow made me this shirt when she was 9," Griffin said, the shirt just a simple white t-shirt she'd decorated at school with his name written on it sparkly letters. "She looked really happy when she saw me wearing it today," he went on, "mostly I think because I still had it, not so much that I was wearing it. Of course she was a typical teenager, pretending to be aloof about it. But I could tell she was happy." Again Griffin sighed, adding, "I don't know why I'm telling you this. I guess to prove to myself I'm a good brother."

Vivian was doing the boring part of her job. Stock management, making sure that the returned video tapes were logged as such. It was such a menial task which she didn't enjoy at all. But it had to be done, and everyone had parts of their job which they didn't like. She liked her job overall, so she grinned and bared the boring stuff when they came around.

When a man came up and asked for help, she smiled. She welcomed the excuse to drop the boring part of her job in exchange for the fun part of her job: talking about movies. A recommendation for his brother and sister? Should be easy enough. "Of course I can help. What kind of movies do they like?" She asked.

[pierce-walker]

self-para  \  the sand runs out. men’s bathroom, rhee’s bar and grill. approximately 11:20 pm.

trigger warnings: knives, blood, murder, death.

i’m falling through the hourglass and i don’t think i’ll ever make it back so i throw stones at walls i’ll never climb, victim to the sands of time i’m falling through the hourglass, the hourglass.

Pierce would be lying if he said he hadn’t been distracted lately. His father had grown increasingly pushy in the last few months, begging and pleading for money. It was honestly pathetic, but the constant harassment was starting to wear him down. It was getting to the point where he felt he had only two options: either give him the change or cut him off. In addition to that, self-publishing his music had turned out to be a lot more complicated than he was expecting. But he was tired of keeping it to himself, tired of only showing his craft to Kahlan, to Emi, to Adee. It was beyond time for him to finally take the leap.

His phone buzzed again, and he jolted, his leg crashing into the surface before him. The glass of beer resting untouched on the table tumbled, spilling amber liquid all over him. He sighed, staring at the mess for a moment. The beer slowly rolled across the table like a wave, dripping over the side when it reached it, directly onto his jeans—just his luck.

Before cleaning it up, he tugged his phone out of his pocket. The number he’d expected flashed on-screen and he rolled his eyes, setting it on the other side of the table, away from the beer puddle. Slowly, Pierce got to his feet, moving towards the bathrooms as quickly as he could. Hopefully, no one was in there, and he could clean up before anybody noticed he was gone…or saw the mess on the table.

The bathroom was indeed deserted, and he sighed in relief as he moved toward the paper towel dispenser, grabbing a couple to begin the hopeless task of cleaning the alcohol off of his jeans. He patted off his pockets, feeling something stiff below the fabric.

Quickly, he dug out a small, folded-up piece of paper. Unfolding it, he realized it was an old draft of one of his songs. With a small laugh, he dumped it and the paper towels into the trash can. He didn’t need that draft anymore—the final was sitting on his kitchen table, waiting for him to finally deal with it tomorrow.

Grabbing a couple of extra paper towels, he moved to the sink, running the water to wash his hands. He also splashed some on the denim, hoping it would help rid the already-forming stain. As he did, he heard the door click open behind him. 

“Sorry,” he said instinctively, not looking up, “I’ll just be a sec. Those tables are super easy to jiggle, eh?” Pierce chuckled. Whoever it was didn’t deign to give him a reply.

Eyebrows knitting together momentarily, he turned off the sink faucet, dabbing the last of the water from his jeans. Perhaps the recent events in the town just had him on edge, but something about the idea of being alone with someone in an enclosed area didn’t sit quite right with him. Pierce took a deep breath, stepping to the left to throw away the towels in his hand.

He never got the chance to step back.

Shooting pain drilled through the back of his abdomen, harsh enough for him to stumble forward, catching himself on the sink. His eyes darted down, red viscosity already mixing into the beer stain on his jeans. He should've trusted his instincts more.

Mouth open in a wordless O, he looked back in horror at his assailant. The masked figure was standing across from him in silence, silence as sharp as their blade; still in their hand, blood dripping from its point. Pierce could already feel the burn in his side, his arm snaking around to press a hand over the gaping hole. The knife hadn't come out cleanly, leaving a ragged tear in his shirt—the edges were already stained dark brown with blood. 

Suddenly, urgency ripped through him. If he didn't move, he was going to die in this bathroom. Jerking into motion, Pierce clumsily whipped backward, using his momentum to stagger into the killer—because that's who they were, he was certain. They didn't seem to expect it, stumbling up against the wall. Immediately, he pushed towards the door, trying to put as much distance between himself and the other person as possible.

Foot slipping on the tile quickly slickening with his blood, he fell against the door, banging on the bottom. Somehow, it had been locked—the wood barely moved under his fist. A muffled cheer went up from outside. No one could hear him, and Pierce's heart sank at the realization.

Sharp pain tore a cry out of him as his assailant caught him messily on the leg once more. He blinked, trying to see through tears of pain. He could feel his heart thumping weakly against his chest, his breath coming in shallow gasps, and all he could think was this is it. I'm going to die here.

Pangs of regret began to numb the pain from his wounds, closing like a fist around his heart as he lay panting on the tile floor of the bathroom. Regret that he’d never be able to publish a song, and regret that he’d been selfish enough to keep them to himself. Regret that he’d never told Finley he still loved her, and regret that he’d never moved on. Regret that he’d never looked into his birth family, and regret that he’d never cut them off—too much regret for too little time.

The world was already flickering, and he screamed as another jolt of pain ran through his leg, though no noise came out. Through his dim and blurry vision, he could just barely make out the figure in front of him, pulling his leg towards them. They were trying to get him away from the door. He reached out an arm helplessly, every muscle shuddering before it dropped to the ground, the sheer strength needed to lift it already gone. 

There was nothing he could do.

[humanityinahandbag]

Eddie's April Fools joke would be him bringing Steve a baby that he's watching while he volunteers at the foster center (because kids aren't as judgemental as adults and he can actually do some good without getting nasty looks or whispers about satanism and murder behind his back).

He'd show up at Steve's door and hold out a wide eyed, rosy cheeked, somewhat confused baby like, "Steven, I know it's been a few months since our night of passion, but she's yours. I'm taking you for all you're worth!"

And it's such an obvious joke. Such an obvious prank. He'd just been taking this kid out for a walk and getting some fresh air.

But jokes on Eddie, because Steve wouldn't even think before lighting up, reaching out, and snatching the baby to his chest like oh aren't you so sweet, do you want to come inside? Yes you do!

Eddie tries to explain that it's a joke, but Steve just grabs his hand and squeezes it tight and the words die on his tongue.

"Bah phhhfp," said the baby, giving Eddie a look like, dude, you've got it bad.

Steve didn't drop his hand. His fingers were warm and strong against Eddie's. "Where'd you find her?"

"... foster?" Says Eddie. "I'm uh. I'm watching her?"

"And you brought her here?" Steve's eyes crinkled at the corners. His smile was sunshine.

Eddie opened his mouth. Closed it. Nodded. And then nearly fell backwards when Steve brought the hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

"Glooof," said the baby, staring at Eddie. You're an idiot if you don't make a move right now.

Thankfully, he didn't have to. Not when Steve was giving him a tug over the threshold.

"C'mon. Let's get you both inside. I think she needs to be changed. You got a diaper bag hiding somewhere under all that leather?"

It was meant to be a joke. It doesn't land as one. Because somewhere in Steve's head, the paternal switch is cheering, lit up so brightly. Free baby? And the person he liked brought him the baby?

Well. Then there's only one real solution to the problem.

(For Eddie, that solution hits him just as quickly. Especially when the guy he's been in love with since the sixth grade is holding a baby to his chest, shirt speckled in spitup and drool, making coffee the next morning, smiling across the kitchen at Eddie so softly and sweetly. Well. He was done for long ago. Might as well fall all the way.)

Ten years later, Eddie and Steve are sitting on a park bench watching their daughter April try to sacrifice her stuffed bunny on top of the jungle gym.

"You do realize that she was supposed to be a joke, right?" He'd say to Steve, a little teary eyed and so unbelievably happy.

"Jokes on you," Steve would reply easily. "Because I kept you both."

Jokes on him indeed.

[theknightmarket]

Okay uh...this is the first time I'm requesting any egos but I just have to. You're the best writer for them I've ever had the pleasure of reading from. So I'm thinking maybe some Yancy and reader (preferably if they're from Heist) pulling some shenanigans around Happy Trails and slowly Yancy realizing his feelings? The shenanigans can involve the guards, Yancy's friends, or even the warden!

"Came for the accent, stayed for the crisis."

In which Yancy and a convicted thief run their own April Fools' Day. TW: cursing Pages: 20 – Words: 8,500

[Requests: OPEN]

The sounds coming from the corridor may have made any outsider think this was a theme park, which, while not all that different in context, was incorrect - if only for the fact that the rollercoasters, ring-toss games, and Ferris wheel were swapped out for sticky tables, rusty metal bars, and subpar plumbing. These may not have been mutually exclusive, but in Happy Trails Penitentiary, you would have better luck tracking down a perfectly innocent prisoner than a waffle. Or, for that matter, someone who wanted to be free. 

Happy Trails was notorious for being one of the only prisons in all of America that nobody wanted to leave. It wasn’t any different, there was still a fair amount of police brutality and a difficultly established hierarchy, but there was one thing that no other jail had that this one did. 

And that was not a something, but a someone: a young man who went by the name Yancy. 

Despite him having spent the majority of his life in a cell, nobody knew if that was his real name, or just a random thing someone had given him once. By the accent, he definitely wasn’t an Englishman, but that, too, was up to interpretation. Some said he was from Ohio, some said from Boston, but all agreed that it didn’t matter anymore. He was in Happy Trails Penitentiary, now, so who cared where he was born? 

Thus, this became his home. Yancy spent his days and nights in the confines of the walls, and he cherished the moments he spent with his friends, hell, family. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t leave, nor that his choices were limited in a lot of things, because he was with the people that he loved doing the things that he loved. It was a difficult task to imagine life outside, and it only sweetened the deal when you arrived. 

You knew next to nothing about prison-life when you first got kicked up the ass here, which, granted, was a lot more than he could say for your friend. You were a confusing pair, to say the least, but he wasn’t sure if you would adjust well. At first, admittedly, you didn’t; you picked fights and messed with the guards, and when your friend disappeared? Hell had no fury like you scorned. Yancy didn’t even know if you were still at the prison with how often you were chucked in solitary. 

Eventually, though, you settled down. You seemed to realize that this was where you were, and there was no changing that. You chilled out, got better, tried making conversation. Yancy was the first to welcome you properly, because he’d been where you were. A freshly-sixteen high school dropout was like early Christmas for the prisoners, until he found his group and made the place more homely. There was no denying the stray convicts who could make your life hard if you got on their bad side, but the vast majority were small time criminals who just didn’t want to leave. 

After your botched heist, you fit right in. 

And, yeah, you might be asking how this whole origin story resulted in yourself and Yancy getting chased down the hallway by the prison’s Warden, himself adorned in a pink afro, sunglasses, and the loudest shirt on the market. You weren’t exactly sure, either, but that didn’t stop you from squeezing Yancy’s hand and pulling him through a doorway. Your state-issued shoes clacked against tile, squeaking giving you away in a heartbeat. The sleeve of your jacket whipped past the Warden’s hand, and yet, against the prospect of being caught, a smile dashed across your face. It matched the one on Yancy’s mouth, soon to be interrupted by an accented laugh. 

You nearly let out a ‘woohoo’ in excitement, but you considered that too far, and you needed to catch your breath enough to get back to the Warden’s office. That thing was a fort right now, both of your faces were beet red from the running, amongst other reasons, and you were becoming awkwardly aware of your grip on Yancy’s hand. Getting caught was not an option, lest you wanted to face a month of solitary for this stunt – even though it was probably warranted. 

It all began at the very start of this morning when the sun barely peaked past your barred window and the guards had yet to wake everyone else up. You treasured this period, because it was the only time you were given free reign of what to do. Sure, during free time you had things to do, but you had to be doing things, whereas now was the perfect time to lay in bed, staring up at the top bunk and be at peace. A yawn broke the silence from that very place, but you considered the source to be the only thing that made a shorter rest worth it. 

“G’morning,” Yancy called sleepily. Even as early as this, his drawl was still present. 

Your response was more chirpy than usual, “Good morning, Yancy.”

His eyebrow’s rose unwittingly as he swung his legs over the side of your bed. “What’s got youse all hyped up?” He couldn’t think what made this day special. It wasn’t visitation day, it wasn’t Christmas, and it definitely wasn’t your birthday – so what was he missing? 

“Because,” you practically sang, strapping on your shoes and tying your jacket around your waist, “today is the first of April.”

Before Yancy’s feet could touch the ground, you secured your hands on his shoulders and grinned. He might have been scared had he not trusted you with his life, so he just returned the smile in appreciation of your mood and rolled up his own sleeves. 

For a second, you were confused. You didn’t expect much, maybe a laugh or a little sound of realization, but Yancy didn’t seem to know anything about what you were talking about. 

“April Fool’s Day,” you stated. 

His expression only shifted into concern. 

You, albeit overdramatically, gasped and moved your hands from his shoulders to cradle his jawline. “Yancy, have you never heard of April Fool’s?”

Not giving him time to respond, you assumed he hadn’t and knocked your forehead against his. With your eyes closed, you failed to notice the flush that exploded across his cheeks, the color blooming like a flower where your breath touched his skin. 

“What are we going to do with you,” you muttered, and by this time, Yancy’s entire face was beet red. He could say the same to you because this was not entirely out of character for you. You always had been touchy with him after becoming friends, and five months was enough time for this to be habit. 

He was stuck in this purgatory until you finally stepped back, not removing your hands however, and exclaimed, “You’re coming with me!” 

Bluntly, he replied, “What?”

“You’re coming with me.” Although you didn’t expand on that idea, you still took Yancy by the elbow and tugged him towards your corner. A while ago, you had designated the two available corners of the room for personal belongings, and yours had stayed concealed by a blanket for the past week. It had worried him slightly, but the guards were unperturbed, so he thought it fine to not ask any questions. Coming towards it now, though, he wished he had. 

“Prepare to be amazed,” you whispered, and you grabbed a corner of the fabric. 

In one, fluid movement, you ripped it away and threw it back onto your bed, revealing below what could only be described as an armada of materials. Yancy was stunned, and he stood completely still with his arms hanging limp for the next few seconds while he took in the pile. 

Multiple folded bedsheets made the foundation - some spotted, some plain, some covered in either blood or grenadine from the kitchen – followed by cans of neon paint and bags of fake moustaches on top. This, accompanied by a worrying number of handy tools, gave him pause and reason to ask, “Was’ all this for?”

Your grin grew manic in the short amount of time for you to remove a paint can without everything clattering to the ground. “This,” you lugged it to the desk, “is what we’ll need to enact the best pranks anyone could think of in a prison.” By the blank look on his face, Yancy still hadn’t a clue what you were talking about, so you started to explain.

“April Fool’s Day is celebrated by, uh, not a lot of people,” you admitted, “on the first of April every year. Nobody really knows where it came from, but that doesn’t stop it from being one of the most fun holidays in the year or me from going all out.” You removed a paintbrush from the stack of tools sitting next to the mismatched pile, and, after peeling the can open, dipped it in.

Yancy edged into view, slotting between the bunk bed and the desk, to ask, “Don’t you think we’re gonna get in trouble for dis?” 

You laughed, looked at him, and he quickly found comfort in your reassuring smile. It was like a tender fire sparking in the dark, a campfire that he could curl up next to and fall asleep until the next day. This tended to happen a lot, and it’d picked up recently, like the wind warning of the future. He didn’t want it to be a bad sign, so he stuck with what he knew; it made him happy to see you smile, he liked being happy, so he liked you, and there was nothing more to it. 

“We might.”

His smile wavered. 

“But you don’t have to worry about that.” You bounced towards him and tapped his jaw. “I’m an expert at this.” 

He had to trust you, it wasn’t as though he had a choice in the matter, anyway. A long time ago, he had decided that whatever you were doing, it would be fine in the end. Letting his shoulders and smile relax into a more natural one, he teased, “Like you were an expert at heists?” 

“Hey—” you flicked neon paint onto his shirt, staining it a slight green, “—I am an expert at heists, I got that part down to a T, I just don’t know how to pilot a helicopter.” 

“I think that’s part of the heist.”

“Nah,” you shrugged and did your best to reseal the paint can, mostly hitting it with your fist until it was in the rough shape it had been at the beginning but with a brush sticking through a hole. 

Yancy let one last, boisterous laugh through his lips, before you started to delve into the plan. 

You would admit that your plan seemed farfetched when you first brought it up to your cellmate and ironing out the details and getting the logistics down was a chore, but Yancy was quick to offer up his help. You appreciated it, trying to not let it slip that he lowered the risk of you getting caught a significant amount, and you reconstructed the plot to include the favors of his connections. Your improv skills had degraded since getting incarcerated, but that heist was a thing of beauty if you considered the need for thinking on your feet – which, you did. Half of that thing didn’t even have a plan, it was just ‘get in, get out, go home’. You faltered at the ‘go home’ part, of course, but you digressed. Your improvisation skills were needed now, and you had employed them well by the time of the breakfast bell. 

Keeping maniacal giggles to a minimum, you were the one to pull Yancy towards his main table, where his group of friends met you. None of them had the full picture, except for yourself and the ringleader, so they were all giddy with anticipation. They asked questions about who the victim was, why you’d chosen them, and you tried your best to answer them without giving too much away. Yancy, meanwhile, was somewhere else. 

Conducting the plan had been like a script – it was easy, efficient, and only needed muscle-memory from him to work fine – and that meant his mind was left to its own devices as his body helped you out. Every time you turned to him or asked him over your shoulder to pass him a screwdriver, he couldn’t take his eyes of you. He flailed his hand for the tool and handed it to you soon after grasping it, just so that he could watch you work. It was a reward for a duty he was unaware he had performed, but he must have done it well, because what a reward you were. Your company alone made his heart flutter, and he considered a doctor’s visit when your hands brushed. He ignored that they were breaking a lot of the prison’s rules, and, instead, the only thought at the front of his mind was that this, spending time with you… it was nice. 

“You ready, Yancy?” 

He blinked. Returning to the present, he waved away those feelings and moved his attention to his friends, including you, who were looking at him in excitement. 

Not sure what he was agreeing to but placing all trust in you, he nodded. 

Immediately, you pounced off the table, a tiger on the hunt, and everyone else watched on. Your shoes skidded against the tile as you carved a path to a particular guard. He stood alone, and, just as you had arranged, next to the breaker. Poor choice of the prison to put the box in the cafeteria of all places, but you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so you nodded to the man and twisted on your heel to watch the hall. 

Chatter dropped, rose, and then dropped again, as if in sync with the flickering of the lights, before it flipped on its head – the fluorescent bulbs completely cut out, but a panic swirled. Guards, prisoners, even Warden Murder-Slaughter himself came out of his office and exclaimed some southern curse. It didn’t demand all of the attention, though, because that belonged rightfully to the spider-webbed convict leaning against one of the walls, helpfully, in the center of the room.

Jimmy the Pickle was your victim, and to answer Tiny’s question, he deserved your first prank of the day for punching one of your only friends through a goddamn wall. You would have done worse, but then you’d never have met Yancy and the gang, so you had some things to thank him for. Not enough to get him completely off the hook, of course, so a little neon paint was light punishment. 

A myriad of doodles and names adorned his body – more befitting of a graffitied high school yearbook – but the swirly mustache, horns and ‘nerd!’ worked here, too. 

From his seat atop the plastic table, Yancy could only watch the Jimmy’s reaction, mainly of confusion and then immediate rage as he stomped off to find whoever did this to him. Luckily, it was in the opposite direction to you, who was rushing over in quick step to slide next to him. Even coated in shadows, you were unabashedly red, and, when you turned to meet Yancy’s gaze, grinning ear to ear. If you weren’t in public, you’d be laughing like a maniac. The hushed chortles were evidence of this. 

“That was amazing,” you sighed, once the lights crackled to life and the restless gossip of the prisoners returned to normal. 

“We doing another one?”

Yancy’s eagerness caught you off guard, as did his sudden proximity to you. You didn’t know why he was so ready to pull another prank, but you decided that, if he was having fun, who were you to put a stop to that? All he was asking was to pick up the pace, and to deny the sparkle in his shimmering eyes was to deserve the death sentence. 

“Sure,” you conceded, “gimme a second to grab the blankets.” With that, you sprinted off again, almost stumbling over your own feet to get back to your cell.

His eyes trailed after you, fighting back the instinct to catch you with how many times you nearly tripped. You were worryingly similar a newborn deer – no control over your feet and even less knowledge of your surroundings. It was a strange and unfamiliar impulse that pushed him to lean forward on his seat, but a well-known pressure on his shoulder kept him down. 

Sparkles McGee peeked into view on his left. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, boss,” he joked, though there was the underlying tone of not joking. 

“Whady’a mean?”

“I mean, your new ‘pal’.” 

Having been practically raised inside the confines of a prison, Yancy wasn’t all that good at social cues. Sarcasm was difficult for him, bluntly told jokes he had a hard time figuring out, but the jumping of Sparkles’ eyebrows and the wink upon saying ‘pal’ didn’t leave much up to interpretation. That blush from earlier returned tenfold when he realized what his friend was insinuating. 

“I-It ain’t like that,” he responded quickly, but he didn’t entirely believe the words coming out of his mouth. 

“Uh-huh,” Bam-Bam joined in with a poorly disguised giggle, “and you don’t look at them like a love-sick puppy.” 

“I don’t!” It came out much more defensive that he had meant, but it was still the truth, wasn’t it? 

Tiny’s hand came to rest on his upper arm before she whispered, “Yancy, it’s okay.” 

“We’re just friends, guys,” Yancy still persisted, and he took off from the surface before they could think to stop him. Standing tall in front of his group, shoulders levelled and voice as sturdy as he could get it, he wished them a good breakfast and all but fled the cafeteria, hands tucked in his pockets and a scowl on his face. 

For the better half of an hour, he took to wandering around Happy Trails. He trusted his feet to take him wherever they felt he should go, while his mind relayed the conversation. He wouldn’t lie to himself, right? What point was there to convincing himself that he didn’t have feelings for someone – there wasn’t one, so, clearly, he didn’t have any to hide in the first place. To him, that made the most sense. Of course, his stomach flipped, and his heart pounded whenever you were around, he would risk ten years of solitary to stand close to you, and he was pretty sure he saw heaven in your eyes, but that didn’t mean anything special, right? Just plain old friends.

Why did it hurt to say that?

“Hey, Yancy!” 

Ordinarily, he would be annoyed at someone interrupting his brooding, but tilting on his heel revealed it was you who called his name. 

Yancy let a grin spread across his mouth while you bounded up to him. If anything, you’d be the puppy in the relationship – but you weren’t, because it wasn’t like that.

Skidding to a stop, you looked out of breath. A sudden fear of you running a fever toppled him, and he brought a hand to your forehead with little forethought. You weren’t too hot, but you should have gone to the medical bay, all the same.

“I’ve been looking for you,” you huffed, one half out of fatigue and the other out of annoyance.

“Ah, sorry,” he muttered. He didn’t expand on it, and you didn’t press, so you just moved on to shoving a pile of blankets into his arms. They were surprisingly soft for being in a prison, but, then again, he hadn’t a clue where you had gotten them from.

“I took them from the Warden’s office.”

Oh. Well, that was that. It explained where you got them, but it also made fear flicker about in his mind. The Warden would surely notice they were gone, what if you were caught, taken to solitary confinement, chucked out of the prison altogether? Just the thought shocked him to his core, and he stayed completely paralyzed while his thoughts ran wild. 

As if you could sense his inner turmoil, you pressed your hands against his jawline – a habit you’d long since picked up to calm him down. 

“Yancy, we’ll be fine,” you promised, “it’s just a bit of fun, we’re not gonna do any serious damage to the place. It’ll all be back to normal tomorrow, so the Warden won’t have anything to be mad at us for.”

Goddamn your reassuring smile, there it was again! Saving him like a knight in shining armor in his time of need. 

After taking a few deep breaths, he nodded back to you, making eye contact and avoiding biting his lip. 

Another laugh from you. “There you go, Yancy!” Another knocking of your foreheads. Another blush. 

There was a moment in the day when everyone was on edge. For the past few hours, a group of people were protected at all times. Now, however, nobody was safe. They’d glance up at the ceiling, waiting for the tiles to give way and unleash hell – they’d train their eyes on every exit and entrance as if daring a biblical flood to rush through – they’d mutter to themselves about who they thought the next victim would be, and send pitiful looks to the poor soul. 

The blindless a thief experienced was burned into his memory, his assumed death playing heavy before he had been able to throw the bedsheets off of himself. One of the guards still stared scrutinizingly at her fellows for any sign of them actually being a prisoner in disguise, and the general consensus of treating this like an infiltrated war base had been reached after the guard dogs were released on the officers’ private quarters. Any trust between each other had crumbled to the ground due to the actions of two wayward convicts. Yancy and yourself became names to fear amongst most of the occupying forces, to the point that Yancy’s gang had been separated and sent to their cells to stop them from conspiring with you. It was havoc, and there was just one more idea bouncing around that would be the end-all-be-all of the night. 

“Yancy, I have a plan—” you swung yourself up to his bunk, “—and it’s gonna be amazing.” 

While you made yourself comfortable, your cellmate leaned against the wall with his arms behind his head, trying his best to appear relaxed. The events of the day took a toll on his heart rate, but that wasn’t exactly a bad thing. His first attempt in April Fools’ Day had been a raging success, not only in the pranking department, but in the, well, you department. Nearly every second had been spent with you, laughing about people’s reactions, and plotting your next mission, you leaning in just close enough that he could feel your breath on his ear as you whispered the best ideas. What made it all better was the fact that, even though you both knew you could do this alone, you had chosen to do it with him. A grin stretched across his face as he thought back on how many times that you’d asked him to do the little things, like passing him items or giving him a leg up. All those times that you could have just improvised, but you didn’t; you chose him.  

However, as much as he was still trying to appear relaxed, it was becoming considerably harder to do so when you found that the comfiest place to be was slotted between his legs and looking up at him from his lap. You didn’t seem to mind the proximity, going so far as to push yourself further up him, but Yancy was certainly aware of your arms resting beside his thighs and the pressure of your head on his stomach. Now, it was a harder venture not to flush. 

“So,” you began, and he was suddenly reminded of why you were in this position in the first place, “this is me spit balling, feel free to chime in with stuff, but I think we should go after the Warden.” 

A grimace overtook his face. He usually loved your ideas, but the Warden? Number one, it was unimaginably dangerous, and, number two, he had his own reservations over risking his relationship with the man. It was no secret that he was the closest thing Yancy had to a father figure, and, as much as he hated to admit it, he relied on the Warden as a backbone. Take away him, and all of his confidence would go down the drain in a second. On the other hand, though, this was you. Yancy could trust you, he was certain of that, and what reason did you have to put him in the line of fire? 

The internal conflict must have been visible on his face because you were quick to bring your hands to his jawline and smoothen out the stubble. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you pointed out in the softest tone you could muster, “I just think it would be nice to go out with a bang. It’s your choice.” 

It was at that second that - with you staring up at him, calloused hands pressing down on his jaw, the assuring twitch of your mouth, and the gleam of rigid determination in your irises – Yancy came to a revelation. It wasn’t sudden or surprising, it was more like when you zone out in a car and then notice that an hour has passed and you’re already there. Like expected clarity. 

Yancy would do anything, as long as it meant being with you. 

Now, he wasn’t entirely sure what that meant in relation to anything else, but this was an undeniable truth as stark as a glistening geode surrounded by rock. If that was all it was, then it was good enough for him, but if that meant something more, he wouldn’t fight it. How could he when it was someone like you?

This conclusion settled in his mind, he leaned forward barely an inch and pecked your forehead. “Youse is gonna be the death of me.” 

Despite the dusting along your cheeks, you laughed. The metal of the bunk bed almost seemed to get warmer with your unadulterated joy, and Yancy found himself unable to resist giggling along with you. His shoulders bounced, you smiled wider, and you only began to calm yourself down when you realized you hadn’t even told him the plan yet. 

“First of all, we’ll probably have to haggle for the stuff, but I think putting the Warden into 80s clothing would be a great time for everyone.” It was anyone’s guess as to where you came up with this stuff, but he nodded along anyway. “We could go for a wig, those stupidly curly ones that you can stick a comb in—oh, and if we can, we should try and get a pair of roller-skates on his feet, ‘cause it’d be really funny, and—” 

Your mouth was moving, and sound was coming out of it, and you were making your plan up on the spot, but Yancy paid it little mind. He was focused on the way that you shifted as you talked; your hands moved centimeters at a time, like you were subconsciously acting it out as you went, your fingertips pattering along his skin as you did so. While you spoke at a normal pace, the cogs in your head visibly spun a mile a minute behind your eyes. The determined gleam had shifted into passion, a look he’d only seen once before, and yet it was a very recent occasion. 

You’d been laying side-by-side in the air duct, waiting for an unsuspecting victim to walk underneath your blanket trap, when you’d filled him in on the traditions of other holidays not widely celebrated. Guy Fawkes Day, a lot of independence days, and pancake day, which was the only self-explanatory one out of the bunch you told him. All of these, you had inane knowledge on, but the look in your eye when you ranted about them had him drifting off, just like now, only to inspect the way it danced along the black and white ridges, disappeared under your eyelashes and…

He probably should have been paying attention. 

He only snapped back to reality when you were interrupted by a yawn. Your hand disappeared from his cheek, a sensation he felt his eyebrows fold in at, and covered your mouth. An attempt to continue was, again, cut off, and it only succeeded at making you more annoyed. 

“Youse, uh, youse sleepy?”

You shook your head, opened your mouth, and promptly yawned again. Yancy raised an eyebrow. You huffed.

“Nope,” you replied, and he waited for another sign of your tiredness. 

It came, and you were forced to accept that you may have been a bit fatigued by the day’s events. 

“We can go to sleep, if you want?” he offered. 

“But you don’t do pranks on the day after April Fool’s. It’s tasteless.” 

“Just a nap, then?”

“Yancy,” your tone was pleading but the intent wasn’t there. It dismantled seconds after he pulled those puppy-dog eyes, a tactic you were certainly familiar with after the many times you fell to it. 

And now would be no exception. 

Huffing, you slouched in your makeshift seat. Yancy’s striped sweatpants were surprisingly comfy for a prison uniform – or maybe that was just him. Either way, you were content to slip into a dream then and there, completely forgetting that you were still on Yancy’s bunk and him holding you up. Not that he minded; he, too, was happy to relax into the cushion, trying to avoid jolting you too much in your slept. Technically, it wasn’t lights out just yet, but your pranking had thrown everything into disarray. It would take a week to get it all back to normal, and the guards would probably stick you in solitary next year just to save themselves the pain. 

He laughed to himself, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. You were pleasantly warm against the cool air of the cell. What a panic you’d made – his little imp. 

He drifted off without pausing to think. 

To say that you were startled awake would be an understatement; your eyes blew wide, you fumbled in surprise, and your face almost made great friends with the concrete floor. If it hadn’t been for Yancy gripping your waist before you could fully fall out, the scheme from earlier would have all been for naught. Heart racing and breath still rapid, your gaze flitted from wall to wall, checking your supplies and wondering what the hell woke you up in the first place. 

Your answer came not a minute later, when an officer came strutting down the hallway with a baton that he was helpfully clacking against the bars with. The hallway was dim, and the rest of the prison was silent in your sector – it must’ve been lights out, if the guard yelling, “Lights out!” wasn’t anything to go by. 

Internally, you groaned. Had you missed your chance? God, and it would’ve been so fun, too. All people had were the memories of you two vaguely terrorizing the prison, not the big blow-out you had wanted. Your hair dusted against the wall as you flopped backwards. 

“It’s too late,” you muttered, disdain evident and disappointment lacing it all. 

In another scenario, Yancy would have grimaced and tried to raise your spirits. He would have told you about the songs he’d practiced, or the up-and-coming movie night the prison was planning. However, this was not another scenario. 

Instead of letting you wallow, Yancy dragged you with an arm around your shoulder down the ladder and onto stable ground. You moved like a fluid, as you always did when you were annoyed, and simply watched as he got to his knees and checked underneath your own bed. 

“I don’t think dust bunnies will help us,” you tried to joke, but it fell on deaf ears. Instead, Yancy was fixated on bringing forward the small lockbox he had stored down there since before you had arrived. He’d never had to use it before, leading it to be shoved right at the back. Even now he was having trouble finding it with the darkness of a sheltered hiding place. 

While Yancy ran his fingertips at the edge of the wall, you inspected your stash of equipment. This plan was a spur of the moment kind of thing, so none of what you had would be helpful, but the nap would have given someone time to steal what you rightfully bartered for. A quick glance over suggested nothing was off, though you didn’t remember getting pink paint, and you checked off your mental inventory as you went. 

“Ah,” Yancy mumbled, pushing himself out of the space and towing a medium sized box with him. Time must have meddled with his memory, because it felt slightly bigger in his hands than it had before. Then again, people had the poor habit of growing. Brushing the thought aside, he sat back on his haunches and clicked it open. 

“Uh…” 

Yancy wasn’t always this unsure, as if bravado was in his blood, but this definitely knocked him off his high horse. What should have been an unassuming lockbox with nothing but a few lighters, combs, and a jagged, old key, was, instead, full to bursting with bright clothes and accessories. If that wasn’t weird enough, it was exactly as you had described during your plotting phase; a curly wig, practically doused in pink, a flamboyant, open-chested t-shirt, and roller-skates. Sweat dripped down his back when he considered the implications, but you merely dashed forward and removed the afro. 

“This is great!” you exclaimed, swiveling to Yancy and wrapping your arms around him.

Yes, you were aware this meant someone had broken into your cell while you were sleeping, and, yes, you recognised someone overheard your entire plan, but did you care? Hell no! You had all the materials you needed to pull off your best prank yet, and if you found the person who provided them, you’d probably shake their hand and spare them from future endeavors. The best clue you had was the small, bright pink mustache painted on the inside wood.

A manic grin blazed across the bottom of your face, and you squeezed slightly tighter in excitement. He patted your back, less enthusiastic but happy that you were. He was more concerned with an intruder hearing last night’s – or this night’s – moment. Lips pursing and hands coming to rest on your waist as you pulled back, he wondered why he held it so close to the chest. 

“Come on,” you whispered. Your hand collected his, and, with the key in your other hand, you escaped your cell to wreak even more havoc.

 

A ticking of a clock pricked up the hair on his arms, the slow patter of rain outside the window tapping the inside of his ear, and every other little sound sending off warning bells in his mind. Warden Murder-Slaughter stared at the front door, as if his glare alone would keep him safe. It was the only defense he had – except for the wooden planks bolted to the windows and the dozens of locks on the single entrance. He couldn’t be blamed for his paranoia, if it could even have been considered that, as he’d seen with his own two eyes the consequences of not being vigilant, and he did not like what he saw. 

So, his eyes drying from not blinking, the Warden accepted having to be awake for the night, just to see himself make it to the next day. It would be the April 2nd, then, and he would be free to wander the halls of the prison like he owned the place, which he did, and it was shameful that he was forced into hiding in his own goddamn office. 

The burning embarrassment wavering in his chest didn’t stop him from flinched when knocks arose on the door. His hand twitched, he fought back blinking, and with the most confidence he could muster, the Warden called out, “Who’s there?”

A pair of shadows cast from underneath the door shifted. “Uh, just me, sir.”

The Warden wasn’t stupid; he knew that when people said ‘just me’ that it probably wasn’t just them. It did sound like one of his lackeys, but he wasn’t willing to take any chances with wayward prisoners on the loose. 

“And you would be?”

They made a sound of disappointment, like most of his staff did when he didn’t recall their name, though they answered all the same. “Jacob Dalt?”

“Middle name.”

Unseen, Jacob shook his head. The Warden had never been so paranoid, and yet, there he was, cornered into his office with the fear of God in his heart. "Markus."

“First pet’s name.”

“David.”

“Social security number.” 

“Sir!” The handle rattled and the door shook, but Jacob stayed behind the door. “Look, sir, if you don’t want to come out, that’s fine – but it’s getting late, and we’re all worried about you. You’ve been in there for the entire day, you haven’t even shouted at the guys upstairs for the lights, yet, and we know how much you love doing that. Just,” there was a vague fist hitting the door, “are you okay?” 

The Warden was pretty sure he could trust the boy, nobody could mimic the overzealous care of that guard, so he rose from his chair with a huff and dismantled all the checks and balanced he had installed to keep himself safe. It was a full minute before he swung the door open and waved him in. 

“Yes, I am fine,” he replied as he re-did all of the locks, “I’m just on edge.”

“I can see that.” 

Jacob flipped around with a concerned smile, while the Warden focused all of his energy on getting the door secured once more. Both of their backs were turned to the rest of the room, which meant more than a few things; the swiveling chair was unoccupied, the window was clear to the outside, and the vent above the desk was out of their view. It was flawless timing, and you didn’t even need to bribe a guard.

Encouraged by your descriptive hand gestures, Yancy dropped as subtle as he could to the worktop, hoping that his shoes wouldn’t make a sound and sprung to hide behind the fake plant in the corner. You pushed yourself out seconds after him, and, lucky for you, the clicks of metal against metal distracted the two others enough for you to hop to the ground and crouch in the leg hole. The sight of your partner was worryingly familiar to you, causing a twitch in your attention, but the spark of adrenaline burst through you in the next moment. 

After gently shoving the chair further away from you, you were able to listen in to the conversation. Nothing stood out to you much – the guard was talking about the Warden’s health and that of the prisoners – until all of the security measures had been returned and the boy offered a single piece of advice. Take a nap. It was perfect, almost too perfect, really, but as said before, you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, and it appeared neither would the Warden. 

The man, sighed, waved the officer away, and was forced to fiddle with the locks for a fourth time when he realized he had no way out. It only worked in your favor, because he was slowly getting more pissed off at the situation you’d worked to create. Proud was swelling in you, and you tried to remind yourself where you were so you wouldn’t get swept up in it all. You were in the middle of a mission, the chance of getting caught and Yancy’s reputation on the line. 

All the pieces lining up bolstered your confidence so much so that, when the Warden came to sit back in his chair, you didn’t move. Instead, you stayed flat against the wooden panel and steadied your breath as he flopped into the comfortable hold of old leather. You were tempted to grab ahold of his feet and yank, but the sane side of you told you it was beyond stupid. 

Yancy, meanwhile, was panicking. You weren’t even supposed to be out of your cell, much less the Warden’s office. If he were to find you, there would be hell to pay, and sweat dripped down his neck as he thought what would become of you. Solitary was a granted, but you might get kicked out onto the streets of normal society! He couldn’t imagine anything worse – although, he also couldn’t figure out why. He liked you, he knew that, but why did the mere possibility of being separated shake him so much? He had half a mind to rush out and distract him so you could escape, and it irked him that he didn’t know why it seemed natural, like there was no other choice for him. 

“Yancy,” a voice hissed at him. Heart thudding in the chest, he glared through the leaves only to see you waving at him from the side of the desk. The Warden had fallen asleep quickly, and, based on him sleeping through frequent rehearsals late at night, would continue to be until you woke him. 

Doing your best not to giggle too loudly, you withdrew the pink afro and sunglasses from your shirt, a moment for which Yancy made sure not to look. There it was again, something had changed and, for some reason, even though he’d seen you get changed plenty of times right in front of him, it was awkward to spot a single inch of your collarbone. Was he sick? Had he caught something from last night’s food? His mulling over left him dazed and delirious when you snapped your fingers to get his attention. 

“You okay there, Yancy?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, squatting to get on your level, “jus’ think I’m, uh, comin’ down with somin’.”

“As soon as we get back to our cell, you are sleeping for the next day and a half.” 

With tentative hands, he removed the Warden’s shoes and replaced them with the pair of roller-skates. It probably should have concerned him how well they fit, but he had learned not to ask questions by now. 

“And youse’d take care of me?” 

“Of course.”

Once everything had been properly settled onto the still-sleeping man, the two of you stood from the ground and stashed whatever he had been wearing before into the document cabinet. Your masterpiece was complete, and, now, it was just a matter of waiting until he woke up and left the room for the entire prison to see. You could get out the way you came in, so he wouldn’t be worried by any broken locks, and the sunglasses were the same weight and shape of his reading ones. This was perfect, this was the grand finale you had wanted, and you couldn’t have done it without Yancy’s help. 

You turned to him with a grin sweeping across your face. “Thank you,” you whispered, and leaned forward to lay a kiss across his cheek. 

Yancy’s heart thundered, his breath caught, and he almost felt his hands shake. 

But not from the kiss. 

It was from the Warden’s eyes snapping open with a look furious enough to frighten a crazed bull. It was maddened, inconsolable, and pointed straight at the both of you. 

Keeping the locks unbroken was thrown out in favor of bursting through the door shoulder first and flinging yourself down the hallway. It hurt like hell, sure, but the adrenaline lighting your veins told you to ignore it and just run, so you grabbed onto Yancy’s hand and did just that. 

The situation was manic, a feeding frenzy in an ocean of sharks. You tripped past the kitchen and the storage room, curbed through the washroom, and soon enough, found yourselves in your wing of the prison. It was nice to see Yancy’s friends as you ran by, Sparkless calling out your names like a commentator at a racetrack, and Tiny helpfully pointing to the man gaining on you. Bam-Bam made certain gestures towards you that Yancy caught, which both made him smile and explode in a furious red. 

The cafeteria was next on your hit-list, as you skidded between benches and leapt over tables. The Warden’s enraged shouts propelled you forward, though you didn’t miss yelling back remarks that only made him more annoyed. Your partner was just along for the ride, at this point, but he tugged you out of the way of a food cart as you ran. After sending him an appreciative glance, you made it out of the hall. 

A few guards peeked out of the staff room when you passed, the squeaking of your shoes making it difficult to be stealthy about this, but they preferred to exchange looks than interrupt… whatever it was that you were doing. They gathered it was something to do with the pranks, but the gleams in your eyes told a different story. 

With a final burst of energy, you swung Yancy into the Warden’s office and shoved the door closed behind you. The locks were useless, now, so you settled for vaulting over the desk and maneuvering it into a barricade. Yancy jumped to help, and you were quickly safe in the make-shift bunker. 

Flopping into one of the chairs, you sighed. That was… more eventful than you had expected, but it was good. Great, in fact! Reliving the glory days granted you the adventure you had been missing. 

From his spot leaning against the table, Yancy chuckled lightly, which turned into small laughs and then full-blown chortles. Never in his life had he imagined he’d be getting into pranking his surrogate-father, with you, no less. 

“That was…” he started, only to continue with giggles. 

You nodded before letting your head fall backwards. You might just join Yancy for the day and a half nap. 

After a few seconds, he regained his breath and spoke again, “I, uh, really enjoyed doin’ dat with you.”

“I enjoyed it too, Yancy.”

Your head propped up, wavering side to side, that feeling returned full throttle. It was the feeling when you’d been chased, sure, but there was something different about it. The warm wasn’t from his blood running through him, but a fuzzy, comfortable feeling – it was an emotion he wasn’t familiar with, and not being able to put a name to it was, well, annoying. He wanted to tell you how he felt, but describing it would be inefficient and, he feared, inaccurate. It was like a bunch of small emotions bundled into one, messy glob. Caring, joy, a little bit of worry. It made his heart sing and his face flush and his throat swell with all of the words he wanted to say but couldn’t. 

Coughing, he spoke, “And thank youse for doing it with me.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I think dis’ is the best April Fools’ Day I’ve ever done, and youse didn’t have to take me along with it so, thank you.”

With a near-silent laugh, you made your way to sit next to him on the desk. The wood was kind of hard, but it made wrapping an arm around him that much easier. After the run, he was warm and stable.

“I should be the one thanking you,” you admitted, making Yancy look at you with confusion, “When I first came here, I was dead set on getting out. I thought that if I didn’t, then I’d be wasting away my life and betraying everything I’d worked for – and then I met you. You made it home, y’know. Now, eh, I’d much rather be here than in the outside world.” 

Yancy blinked, though, really, he wanted to jump and dance with you around the room. You wanted to stay for him. Not for the songs, or the free healthcare, for him. It might’ve been April Fool’s, but he was pretty sure it doubled as Christmas for him.

“Really?” he mumbled, and his eyes met yours. They were practically pools of sincerity, so vivid that there was a sheen of vulnerability over your irises. 

“Come on,” you pulled him close, “I came for the accent, stayed for the crisis.” 

It was a happy moment, so, so happy, that Yancy was furious he couldn’t express it with words. His mouth dried up and his mind flurried about like birds’ wings. You weren’t talking anymore, and it looked like you were about to pull away for a second. 

So, Yancy did the only thing he could think to do. 

The bone of your jaw was firm, the strands of your hair were soft, and the skin of your lips was delicate. Kissing you was something he had never imagined, and yet he couldn’t help but wonder why he ever held back. Carding one hand across the nape of your neck and the other secured around your waist, he poured all of his attention into the feeling of you against him. You pushed forward, and he did, too. It might’ve been the pounding of his heart or the banging of the Warden against the door, but he didn’t care! This perfect moment surrounded by chaos nestled into his memory, added to by the feeling of you smiling against his own mouth. Yancy held back a chuckle himself, before once more becoming engrossed in dancing with your lips.

It was in this moment that Yancy put a name to the emotion that had been stirring in him since the morning. Love – and the admission only had him leaning further in. 

You only broke apart because of the fatal flaw of human design – needing to breath, but even then, you went back in for another kiss milliseconds after catching air. Yancy was all but overjoyed to, not feeling bad about ignoring the Warden for the first time in his life. He had something better to attend to. 

However, that stance was changed slightly when the boards that used to be covering the windows crashed to the ground in splinters, followed by a body. Just one look at the wig and jacket, and Yancy was jumping to his feet and onto the chair you had abandoned. Thankfully, you had neglected to refit the vent, meaning it was easy for him to grab your hand and lift you towards the ceiling. When you were securely inside, he brought himself up, and you latched onto his arm to pull him towards you, barely missing the Warden’s hand by an inch. 

“So, again next year, then?” Yancy joked, to which you responded with a laugh and another short kiss on his lips, leaving the Warden’s southern curses to echo behind you. 

[Again, sorry for the lateness – I still hope you enjoyed this and our cute lil’ boy being all confused about emotions. I’m still not over him losing to Dark in the poll. I mean, yeah, I get it, but c’mon, how could they do this to the Boston boy??]

[3d-wifey]

Living in Devotion

Pairing: JFK X Reader

Synopsis: Truth was, you were always counting down the seconds until you could be with him again, and you were sure he knew that.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Smut, infidelity, slight angst, h*ndjobs

A/N: Uh, happy late April Fools. This was kind of based off of this tiktok. This is kind of like crack treated very seriously. 🧍🏾‍♀️Enjoy ig.

AO3: Living in Devotion

You never really realized how thick the walls of your dressing room were. Not until the sound of the band playing at full swing was nothing more than muffled background noise. Not until the loudest thing in the room was the sound of the door clicking open.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. President?" You didn't bother turning around, electing to look at him through the mirror as you touched up your lipstick. You would be called on stage in twenty minutes and you didn't have any time to waste. He closed and locked the door before walking around the room.

"So, it's Mr. President now?" He inquired, picking up a framed photo of you and your little sisters.

"It's always been Mr. President. Don't act like we're closer than we actually are, Jack." You scolded, but the smile you barely held back betrayed your amusement.

Truth was, you were always counting down the seconds until you could be with him again and you were sure he knew that.

"I can't come listen to my favorite bird sing?"

"Your favorite, huh?" You drummed your fingers along your wooden vanity as you looked at the clock, fifteen minutes, "What's that there behind your back?"

You turned towards him as he placed the photo face down and you couldn't wipe the grin off your face as he approached you with a swagger.

He brought the hand he had hidden behind his back forward and presented a bouquet to you with a flourish. He gave them to you, red chrysanthemums, white lilies, and purple irises.

You had been given flowers before, but never from him, and you never expected them either. You had mentioned offhandedly the kinds of flowers you preferred, but you were surprised he even remembered.

"How did you know I was performing tonight?" You hadn't told him about this show like you usually did with your others.

He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his breast pocket that you recognized as a flyer for tonight's performance with you listed as the main act.

"I've never missed one of your shows before, I don't plan on starting now." And then he smiled, placid and brilliant, and you couldn't fight the urge to pull him down into a kiss.

You would never be his wife, that position was already filled by Jackie. You'd always just be one of the many people to sate John's appetite. That's what you had to tell yourself, a reminder not to fall too deep. But you already knew it was too late for that.

Because when he did things like this: bringing you your favorite flowers, showing an interest your family, supporting your career; it made it hard for you to remember who you both were.

Between these four walls, you were no longer a socialite and he was no longer the president. Neither of you was burdened by the responsibilities that hung over your heads. He was just Jack and you were just the woman in love with him.

His lips were warm and a little chapped. They parted slightly, allowing your tongue to slip in. You could feel the soft puffs of his breath tickle beneath your nose as you carded your fingers through his hair.

The wrapping around the flowers crinkled and brought you out of your trance. You pulled back and didn't mention the tint of red you left behind on his lips.

"A bouquet of my favorite flowers, huh. Now, which poor intern did you make buy these?"

"I'll have you know I got these myself." You turned back to face your mirror, your back to his front.

"Is that right," you moaned as his lips trailed a lazy path down your throat, "Color me surprised." He trailed his hand down your stomach and hiked your dress up enough for him to reach the apex of your thighs. You gasped as a callused finger rubbed your slit through your panties, barely managing to refrain from humping his hand like a dog in heat.

"God," he groaned into your neck, "You're practically dripping already." It was true. Your arousal had started soaking through the cotton of your underwear before he even touched you.

"Be that as it may, we have less than te—" you yelped as he began rubbing slow circles against your clit, "ten minutes before they expect me on stage." You could feel the hard bulge in his slacks press into your ass.

Was it odd that you were a little touched that he came all this way to seek you out, rather than getting help from a working girl? Yes, but you've long since accepted the oddity that was your relationship with the president.

"We obviously can't get much done in," you checked the clock again, "eight minutes. But I'll indulge you if you go sit." He pulled himself off your back with a reluctant grunt that made you chuckle.

John settled himself down on the bed in the corner that you only ever used for particularly late nights, and as it seemed, late-night visitors. He reclined back onto a pillow against the wall, a perfectly polished black shoe tettered on the edge of the bed as you stood in front of him.

"I take it there are guards stationed outside the door," the only reply you got was a smirk as he began to unbutton his slacks, you sighed, "At least we won't be disturbed." Though it definitely won't do anything for you both in terms of gossip. As you lowered yourself to your knees, you wondered what the rumor mill would be saying about you in the morning.

"This is all you'll get for now," you wouldn't take him into your mouth, you needed your voice to be intact for your performance after all, "but if you stick around after my set, I may be inclined to be more giving."

You did crave it; the taste of him on your tongue and coated on the back of your throat. You often felt it manifest like an itch only his presence could scratch. You were one of the most prominent singers on this side of the United States, yet he always managed to make you feel like a common whore in his presence.

Precum dribbled into the snatch of brown hair at the base of his cock. He hissed as you took him in hand, tightening and loosening your grip as you moved your hand up and down.

"I've missed this," he cursed as you left red-stained kisses along the length of him, "Missed you."

His hips jerked without rhythm the quicker you moved your hand. He clenched his teeth around a moan, nails digging into the bedsheets.

"Don't hold out on me now," he grunted as you ran your thumb over the weeping slit, "You know I love it when you sing for me, Jack."

[wallspikes]

Chapter 4

hiiii everyone happy APRIL FOOLS! but this isn't a joke... its a whole new chapter... 3k words of my guys. still no name for this -- worlds worst title creator here. i might call it on the wrong foot BUT idunno. i cant post this to ao3 until i get a title </3. ANYWAY no warnings for this i don't thinkkkk... HAVE FUN! if you have any title ideas tell me in the notes.. please...

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Gio, no doubt sitting in the ruins of a sand dune beyond the lengths of repair, and more than likely covered in a plethora of various bug bites, felt that he was building more bridges than he had burned in the past day. The little man hadn’t sprinted off towards the closest patch of grass the minute he’d sat down to make himself comfortable — though, they still looked ready to jump away at the first sign of danger. They warily planted their feet and chewed on oversized oats just a few feet away from his outstretched calf. Gio counted that as a win, in his book.

The time on his phone was a little after twelve-thirty. He finished off the last of the granola bar, tucking the wrapper into his back pocket as he stared at the little man in a halfhearted contest that he was sure to lose. The expression on their face was uncertain, their eyebrows upturned in worried arches, their cheeks a blotchy red; Gio felt bad for making them stand there. “You can leave if you want,” he shrugged, “I’m not trying to keep you here… but, that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate this, of course!” 

Gio leaned into his palms and fixed them with a thankful grin, “I felt like I was going insane last night, thinking about whether you were real or not. Like, everything felt real, but it was so unreal that I didn’t know if I was imagining it somehow.” His smile turned toothy, “So, thanks for talking to me— or, uh… standing with me. It's nice to not feel crazy.”

The little man shifted in their spot, awkwardly kicking sand to cover their feet and shaking it off again. It almost seemed like they were going to speak, but the words never came. Instead, they ran their hand through their beard, fingers catching on sticky knots matted by honey from the granola bar. 

When he still failed to coax a word from the little man, Gio listlessly shrugged. He watched them tug at their beard, wincing slightly each time their neck jerked from a particularly stubborn clump until the secondhand pain became too much to bear and he realized he had the means to help. “Do you want some water?“ He asked, leaning over to pull a bottle from his backpack, “It might help get rid of the honey before you tear out all your hair first.”

The little man quailed as Gio reached behind himself, the movement far too sudden. Gio turned back to see the man had leaped a few steps away from his calf, the granola bar clutched tightly to their chest as they eyed the nearby brambles of bamboo. Their expression had quickly changed to something more frantic, a content pinkness that had grown on their cheeks from the chance at a good meal draining to frightened paleness while their already-upturned eyebrows nearly met with their hairline. “Woah, sorry,” Gio whispered, and held his hands up in surrender, grasping his water bottle in a fist, “I won’t move so fast anymore. Sorry,” he apologized again, slowly pouring a capful of water and placing it where the man once stood, “I wasn’t really thinking.” 

It took a few moments of bated breath, but eventually, the little man found the courage to reach forward, pull the cap back towards themself, and gingerly pour some water through their beard, making sure to catch a few drops in their mouth in the process as well. Gio watched, satisfied, but wished still that he could get a closer look at his little midnight guest. He slowly pulled his legs into himself, making sure the man was watching him warily before hunching over and digging his elbows into the sand as if studying a particularly interesting insect.

The little man shrunk under his stare, worrying the granola bar between their hands as Gio propped his head in his palm. As they found themselves locked in a one-sided staring contest, Gio couldn’t help himself from absorbing each little detail, from the way the man’s hair bristled as he looked over them to the worried curve of their brows that hadn’t seemed to relax. Their hair was thick and full, and out from it stuck two large, round ears that twitched back at every move Gio made, no matter how slow. “I hope you don’t mind me being here so much,” he mumbled, “I can’t really tell…”

Again, there was no response — it wasn’t like he really expected one from the man, though there was a faraway part of himself that held out hope for a simple nod, or even more daringly, a word, even if it never came. A wide-eyed stare and the occasional nod of the head proved to be his only consistent partner in conversation. Gio studied them a few moments longer while he hovered overhead, watching their Adam’s apple bob and their feet shuffle in place as their fingers bore holes in the oats of the granola bar, held tightly in a white-knuckled grip. Fascinated as he was by the man’s features, Gio was beginning to worry all this studying might kill them. He sat back on his heels, reached to check for the time, and felt the weight of his eyelids double the second the number ticked on screen. 

Gio yawned, exhaustion beginning to catch up with him as the night continued in its standing lull. He turned his head up to the night sky, past the tall bushes and the bamboo to stare at the stars, and sighed. “I should probably go home.” More of a statement than a suggestion, he reached behind himself for his backpack. “Are you headed home soon?”

The redhead straightened up a bit at being addressed, and responded with a quick nod. They took a few steps towards the bushes. 

“Cool.” Gio craned his neck over the bushes, then through their lower brambles. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was looking for — a small, dollhouse-like structure beneath the leaves, or a glimmer of light? — but he saw nothing. He tugged on his backpack. “Do you want a walk back?” He tried.

They looked uncomfortable with the suggestion, slightly curling in on themself while they bared a set of awkwardly grimacing yellowing teeth. They shook their head for good measure, though Gio had already gotten the message. Understanding, but disappointed, he nodded. “Well, what if we meet up again sometime…?” Gio held out hope for another shot.

No harsh reaction immediately followed the inquiry, which Gio took for a good sign, though the long pauses of blank stares were equally just as unnerving. He held his breath while he waited for an answer, watching the little man thoughtfully square their jaw as their eyes quickly snapped to meet his, like they were searching for the source of an ulterior motive there. For some reason, Gio felt himself getting nervous — was he hiding something? He didn’t think so. Regardless, he did his best not to show it. 

When the little man found nothing in his eyes, they subtly let their jaw relax and rumbled an exhausted growl of relief. Their expression betrayed the sound, their brow still pulled tightly to their nose, upturned with worry — Gio had half a mind to ask if they always looked like that, though he was beginning to become more unsure if the question would be answered with a ‘no.’ But, even so, as they hesitantly shrugged — a response that could realistically be a polite decline, had the little man meant it that way — Gio was ecstatic. “That’s great!” He exclaimed, the cold nervousness that had seized him just moments before making way for a giddy feeling of enthusiasm. “What’s best for you? Should I come here, or do you want to start coming to me…?”

Shellshocked, but too reserved to correct Gio if their attention had been to deny, they slowly pointed at him. The man seemed fairly settled in his decision, though Gio was still a bit unsure of the agreement. “You want to come to me?” The little man nodded. “Okay, yeah! That works fine.”

He knelt on the boardwalk and leaned over the lip until he spotted the little red-headed man slightly tucked away into the foliage. “I live on Pacific, if that means anything,” he grinned, pointing through the trees and bushes, “It’s two walks over, just skip the first one — the gray house with the deck on the left is mine. I’m there pretty often, if you need anything. Or if you just want to say hi…?”

The little man glanced in the direction he was pointing, as if to politely consider the offer before giving their answer — then nodded. Gio, hovering upside down over the edge of the boardwalk, gave an excited thumbs up, “Great! My family’s fine, so if you see them, don’t get too concerned. But, uh, I’ll try to find time out there at night for myself, so you can talk to just me, if you want.”

The man didn’t respond this time, their expression only tightening a bit — an expression Gio couldn’t quite get the read on he would have liked. He left the conversation at that. “I hope you… feel better. Sorry, again, about everything.” A pause. “Yeah,” he added, “I’ll see you later… Have a good night, man.”

Gio stood, dusted off his knees and knocked the sand from his shoes, gave the tattered net a grim once-over, and had half a mind to break the thing over his knee — but, ultimately, decided against it after remembering the last time he was whacked from the recoil of a fishing pole. 

As he walked home, suddenly more aware of each footfall with the knowledge of the man who lived beneath the boardwalk, Gio let his mind wander to his family — how would they react to seeing a man a fraction of their size? Living, breathing, thinking? Would they take it well?

Should he even tell them…?

Gio let the thought ruminate. There was no guarantee they’d even see the little guy if he never told them about them. If the stranger showed up at their doorstep looking for a conversation, Gio was certain they’d hide from unknown family members, whether they knew about them or not — though, they’d probably appreciate it to hide without peering eyes… Gio shrugged to himself. He wouldn’t tell his family, to save everyone the hassle.

Plus, he wasn’t sure he had taken the news so well himself.

Sure, stumbling across the little guy in the gully left him fascinated and even more curious by the bizarre discovery, but he thought back to the feeling of the man in his palm… they couldn’t have weighed more than a few ounces — not even a pound — and when they stood before him for their silent conversation, Gio couldn’t help but notice how pale and thin their body was. 

Gio slowed his pace as he thought. Was the stranger hungry? Sick? He wished they had taken more food, if that was the case. He could spare it easily, though, with the way the little guy struggled to carry their cargo after the hopefully generous-enough offering, the issue seemed not to come in the offering, but in receiving. There was no way they could have comfortably brought more food home. Maybe he could bring some more interesting things next time he planned to look for the stranger again. Or, he could wrap a few provisions in some napkins and leave them on the little man’s doorstep, once he knew where it was. He just hoped the man was eating comfortably.

The idea that they weren’t bothered him. He’d never seen a person like that before, but the fact that there was one meant that there had to be more — were they all so thin? Hanging so closely to the threat of starvation that their skin pales and pulls tight to the bone? He hoped not. He hoped his little stranger was just an outlier. 

Gio realized, as he found himself a few paces from his doorstep, that he hadn’t been watching his feet while he was lost in thought about the nutrition of the little man. In a heart-wrenching panic, he glanced back at the boardwalk, dreading to find any unfortunate soul who’d wandered into his path, but thankfully found nothing in the dim reflection of moonlight off the wooden slats. He sighed, and resigned himself to his screen-paneled front door — where he made sure not to let it slam behind him, or let the hinges squeak too loudly.

As his phone’s clock turned past one-thirty in the morning, he turned its flashlight to the floor, kicked off his sneakers, and softly found his way up the stairs, around the bend of the hallway and—

“Hey.”

Gio jumped, nearly dropping his phone, but catching it before it could make a parent-waking clatter. Shining his flashlight down the hallway, Nicolette poked her head from her open bedroom door. “Nico!” he hissed, narrowing his eyes at her through the darkness, “What?! Why are you even awake?!”

“It’s not that late. Plus, I heard you sneak out at eleven-thirty and wanted to know where you headed off to without inviting me.” Nicolette leaned against her doorway, “Were you hanging out with Monty again?”

Gio shrugged — it seemed as good a coverup as any, “Yeah. They wanted to sit over by the bay.”

“Why’d you have a net?”

Gio’s flashlight slightly faltered. He could feel this conversation twist itself into an interrogation as the moments passed and the questions became more detailed. It was rare that a Clark sibling conversation could last more than a few minutes without turning into some kind of debate, and it seemed Gio couldn’t save this one’s meager life. “How did you know I had a net?”

Nicolette gestured into her room with a shrug of her shoulders, “You’re not the only one with a window.”

He grit his teeth, “We were catching crabs.”

“What’re you?” Nicolette scoffed, “Seven?”

Gio turned back down the hallway to his own bedroom door and slid his bag inside before he whispered again, his voice exasperated, “Whatever! If you wanna keep talking, come over here. We’re gonna wake up mom and dad.”

His sister huffed, but pushed herself off her doorway nonetheless. She made herself comfortable on the foot of her brother’s bed and leaned her back against the neighboring wall as Gio closed the door behind them — making sure to give the hallway a quick, cursory glance, just in case.

Gio flicked on a lamp and shook some of the long-clinging sand from the legs of his pants — Nicolette fixed him with a studious gaze. He paused. “What?”

She narrowed her eyes, “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing’s going on with me,” Gio lied.

Nicolette ignored him. She pointed to the band-aid on his hand, “First, you come home with your hand mauled. Then, you wander off at night with a net, and won’t tell me where you went. What are you really trying to catch?”

“I told you already,” Gio shrugged, turning to rummage through his dresser for a set of pajamas, “it was a fly. And I was catching crabs with Monty.”

“Yeah, you know that’s not true,” Nicolette called his bluff, a triumphant smirk in her voice, “Plus, I can see your face getting red from here.”

She was right. Gio could feel his face getting warm, too. That always happened when he lied or started to get nervous. Usually, he’d find the chance to hide the pinkness of his cheeks before it got too obvious — his most common solution was to run away — but with his sister sitting so firmly on his only hope for safe haven, he’d have to resign himself to embarrassment. “Fine,” he rolled his eyes, “That’s not true.”

Nicolette perked up. “Okay… then tell me what is!”

Gio crossed his arms. He loved his sister, but he wasn’t going to let her strongarm him into giving up all his secrets so easily this time. Maybe he didn’t want to tell her. “Well, y’know, maybe I don’t want to tell you,” he echoed his own thoughts, “Why do you always need to know everything?”

She thunked her head against the wall, “It can’t be that serious.”

He shrugged, doing his best to keep his cheeks from turning red. He was lying in every way — not only verbally, to his sister, but to himself. It was that serious. “I don’t know. Maybe it is.”

“Ugh! Gio!” she exclaimed, her voice still a whisper, “Just tell me!”

He wanted to tell her badly. Gio took a deep breath, and he held it for a moment, trying to keep himself from spilling the entire story of the stranger right then and there — but, as he opened his mouth to exhale, the dam broke. “It’s a… little man?!” Gio could have shouted with all the pent-up bewilderment of the nights before, if not for his parents’ room just a few doors down, “Like, really little. I saw them and they bit me and then I just couldn’t… stop thinking about it! I think they live under the boardwalk.”

The room was silent. Nicolette fixed him with an incredulous stare, her eyes tinged with a softness of worry after her brother’s seemingly nonsensical story. “A little man…?”

“A little man.”

“Okay…” she started slowly, then cocked her head, “You're sure you’re not sick?”

Gio wiped a hand down his face with a tired groan as his cheeks turned even redder for a different, embarrassed reason. “Whatever,” he mumbled, and strictly pointed at the door, “Get out so I can go to sleep. If you want to actually listen, find me in the morning.”

Nicolette rolled onto her feet, resigning to let whatever tall-tale Gio was telling settle for the night. “Fine, fine.” She shrugged and pulled the door open, stepping into the hallway — but not without turning in a sharp about-face to leave her brother with a final threat, “Expect to hear from me tomorrow.”

He closed the door behind her, an unamused expression atop his still-rosy cheeks. With the quiet click of the door handle closing, he flopped heavily onto his mattress. For a moment, he stared blankly at the ceiling, an image of the little man forming in his memory to play back the motions of the night. He wanted to laugh. Sharing a granola bar with a stranger past midnight is a novelty story to begin with, but for that stranger to be a fraction of Gio’s own height was taking the story to an even further, funnier degree. 

He could feel his smile crack. It was funny. Gio quietly laughed to himself as he changed into his pajamas and began his nightly routine — silently down the hall, so as to not alert his parents, or possibly his sister again, who uncharacteristically kept her door open a crack as if to listen for any suspicious, brotherly noises. He thought of the little man in their home, wherever that may be, following a routine just the same as Gio’s as they prepared for bed. He hoped they enjoyed the peanut. And he hoped the chunk of granola bar would hold them over for a while, since it looked like a Thanksgiving turkey in their arms. 

He kicked up his bedsheets and slid beneath them, finally placing his glasses on the bedside table for the night with an exhausted sigh. Tomorrow, he’d have to find time in the night when he could convince his family to give him some space as he sat on the deck.

That was, if the little stranger even came to visit.

[randowriters]

In Heart

D&F: Here is the last of the three fics! Hope you enjoy it!

Lily: And happy April Fools!

Map bot never minds helping DJ and Freddy with their romance. Heck, she’s a sucker for the whole thing. Even when it’s a secret affair. Fazbear Entertainment’s policy forbids romance because of how nasty the altercations can be when something goes wrong. She’s seen some of them: the notorious Romeo and Juliet employees whose “quiet” relationship blew up into a fierce argument that divided the human staff for a few weeks. The food employees whose subtle romance at the food court turned sour one day and begin sabotaging each other’s stations. Oh, and there was also the music department’s fiasco that was a “war” between employees! All of it dating back to two humans who were in a relationship “on the down low”, and one of them decided to steal the other’s work for a raise.

Map finds them interesting, more so than the ones that the humans watch in the break room. She loves watching the affection, the caring nature that blossoms between lovers, and the cute little things they do for one another. The bot even got to play a part of them. Mostly delivering, covering…and cleaning.

So…so much cleaning.

Although Map bot isn’t one for disasters, seeing the disasters of these romances were fascination. The ripple effects they had on the work force, the destruction it creates, all to suddenly fade away as if they never happen. Love is a complicated thing that can either become a beautiful scenery, or a violent spiral. So, for DJ to reveal that he and Freddy confessed to each other. Well…she has done EVERYTHING to keep such a sweet relationship safe and whole.

One of them is helping these two with their long distance problem.

Map had researched everything on long distance relationships. The chances of them being successful are…not particularly high. In fact they have a very…VERY low percentage. From higher chances of cheating to occur to simply falling out of love. While neither Freddy or DJ will ever cheat on each other, or stop being in love, it was something the bot didn’t want to leave to chance.

“Done!”

The S.T.A.F.F. Bot stares up at the grinning music man. The disc jockey had been working on a new song, humming out certain parts to see which instrumental tune would fit best. Even playing it over to the staff animatronic for opinions. Map bot had been leaning against the stage, pondering for a while. “Freddy is going to love this one!” Map bot’s eyes widen. Of course! “WAIT.” She gazes up at the robotic spider, “WHY NOT ADD SOMETHING ELSE TO IT?” DJ tilts his head, “Add something else?”

“A GIFT CARRIER!” suggests the bot. The animatronic spider blinks, “Gift carrier?”

“A GIFT CARRIER DELIVERS THE GIFTS THAT YOU WISH TO GIVE TO THE PERSON OF INTEREST FOR YOU!”

Map remembers seeing those carriers coming in the megaplex, bringing gifts and handing them to the one of the employees with a song and a smile. “Neat, but uh…” The music man hesitantly scratches his cheek, “I can just send the song I made through text.”

“BUT THAT IS WHAT YOU ALWAYS DO!” Map bot raised her voice. Her hands animate as she continues, “YOU SHOULD MAKE THIS MORE INTERESTING THAT WILL DAZZLE FREDDY!” Seeing the surprise on the giant animatronic’s face made the S.T.A.F.F. Bot calm down. “A-AT LEAST FOR TODAY!” She added. DJ rubs his chin as he thinks on it. “Yeah…I guess I should!” He smiles, “Here’s the music!”

The worker animatronic receives a message with the music attached. Yes! Now to get this in motion! “I WILL ALSO MAKE SURE HE RECEIVES IT IN THE MOST ROMANTIC WAY WITHOUT DRAWING ATTENTION.” Map bot promised. The disc jockey chuckles as he watches her rolls away with a thumbs up. He then pause as he realize something.

“Just remember not to draw attention to yourself!”

==============================================

Map bot understands to keep things on “the down low”. As a S.T.A.F.F. Bot, staying out of everyone’s attention is simple. No one pays that much attention to the staff animatronics, they are basically invisible. Anything they do go unnoticed, unless one does something serious enough to warrant that attention. Like glitching out, getting destroyed, ruining anything, things that don’t happened too often…Well the “destroyed” part does, but that’s totally different topic. Point blank, a S.T.A.F.F. Bot can easily get away with doing anything without drawing any gazes to them.

Which is why she rolls along to Fazerblaster with six heart shaped balloons in each hand.

Freddy happened to turn around just in time to notice her. “Oh! Hello, Map bot!” The orange glamrock greets, “Are you delivering all of this to someone?” The bot may not have a mouth to visibly show it, but her happiness just radiates from her. “YES.” She beamed. “TO A VERY SPECIAL BEAR, FROM A LOVING ADMIRER!” The animatronic worker even did the twirl she remembered seeing a carrier do one time. To add a bit more to the flare, she decides to play the gift for the lead singer.

He gasps, “This music!” His ears wiggle as excitement sparkle in his stare. Now to finish it off by giving the robotic bear his gift via text message. “FOR YOU!” Map said. The look on Freddy’s face as his cheeks flush, she couldn’t help but feel pride. “This is so sweet!” The bot’s chest puffs up the more she listens, “Although…” Her eyes opens, catching the hint of confusion on his expression.

“He could have just sent the song to me through text.”

The S.T.A.F.F. Bot’s eye twitches. “HE WANTED TO DO SOMETHING INTERESTING.” She answered with annoyance. The glamrock bear quickly raises his hands, “I know, and I appreciate it!” He then begin fiddling with his fingers. “I am a bit more…simple, is all.” admits the bear animatronic. All Map bot could do is stare at him. All that hard work…gathering spare balloons, finding the machine to blow them up, even the strings used to tie the balloons took a while to obtained. Yet, the lead singer still prefers simplicity. Her shoulders slump.

Freddy blinks, “Map?” The bot doesn’t reply. Instead, she shoves the balloons into his hands. “ENJOY.” She said. Dejected, the staff animatronic heads out. “Wait.” Map bot stops. She glances back at the concerned glamrock. “Is something wrong?” He asked. The S.T.A.F.F. Bot wonders if she should tell him the reason. What if it ends up causing the animatronic bear to feel insecure about the relationship? Then again, she didn’t want him to continue worrying about her…“I WAS THE ONE WHO SUGGESTED IT.” Map bot reveals, “AS A WAY TO HELP.”

“Help?” Freddy tilts his head. Sighing, the animatronic worker turns to him. “ONLY THIRTY-ONE PERCENT OF LONG DISTANCE RELATIONSHIPS ARE SUCCESSFUL. MEANING THAT THERE IS A SIXTY-NINE PERCENT CHANCE OF FALIURE.” She explained. The bot drops her head in shame, the one time she decides to fully insert herself in a relationship willingly and she messes up. A hand gently pats her shoulder. Surprise, she gazes up at him.

“Map bot, thank you for your concern.” The robotic bear warmly smiles at the staff animatronic, “However, I can assure you that our relationship will not fall apart so easily.” A sad expression appears on Map bot’s face, “I AM SORRY…” The glamrock leader chuckles, “Do not be sorry! It was actually a very interesting gesture to suggest!” Seeing the happiness radiate from Freddy gave the robotic worker assurance that things are still well.

Good…

“In fact…” the orange glamrock smiles, “If you do not mind, I wish to use your service for today as well.”

=============================================

“No way!”

DJ couldn't help but be happily surprise at the sight. Map bot had returned to the DJ Arena, wearing the space gear from Freddy's attraction as requested from the glamrock leader himself. She even has the fazer-blaster in hand! “FROM THE INTERSTELLAR DELIVERY SERVICE, YOU HAVE A MESSAGE FROM THE SPACE RANGER HIMSELF!” says the staff animatronic as she poses. She then plays it out loud:

“Thank you for sending me such a lovely gift, my dear Titan! I hope that you enjoy mine!”

The music man burst into laughter as his hands covers his deep red face. It’s the first time the bot has ever seen him like this! A warm feeling within her swells. Once the laughter dies down, the disc jockey lowers his hands for her to see his bashful gaze. “Maybe doing this wasn’t so bad, after all!” He chuckled.

In the end, the two animatronics came to an agreement to let Map bot do her gift carrier idea. Albeit, only under special occasions and for them to be minimal. She gladly did so whenever the opportunity arrives. Though, with how extravagant the Pizzaplex tends to be on the holidays, she finds herself going a bit overboard during those times. Still, the S.T.A.F.F. Bot is thankful to be able to help the two romantics in any way she can.

[oreomonsterhunter]

Best Friends to Lovers —Jaehyun

Ok so hear me out

Jaehyun is such a classically romantic guy, but falling in love with someone is a different matter for him entirely

He can’t wait to be a sap and sweep someone off their feet, but it’s kinda hard for him to develop feels if he doesn’t really like the other person

Plus he takes forever to open up to friends, forget about opening up to a potential partner

So basically he’s 100000000% the type to fall for his best friend

I mean, he loves you but one day he figures out he Loves you

It probably hits him like a truck, too

One night you’re both sitting on the floor of your apartment—you ordered takeout but your table is Too Small for him, as he’s complained on multiple occasions

And he’s just said something funny to make you laugh, but you were unfortunate enough to be taking a sip of your drink at the same time

So you end up snorting some up your nose, and now you’re coughing and cursing at him, and he’s just sitting there smiling like a dimpled idiot

And suddenly it hits him

He’s always thought you were beautiful, but he was surrounded by beautiful people every day, so that wasn’t the important thing, you know?

But there you are, sitting cross legged on the floor in an old pair of sweats with holes you’ve sewn up like ten times. Your hair slung back in one of his favorite hair bands that you either stole or he forgot at your place (he can’t even be mad, since you got him a pack of ten for his birthday). And your cheeks are fire truck red now, after hacking up a lung and yelling at him

And he loves every single part of you

And he’s been falling for you since the very beginning, one step at a time

Just like you tbh

Only you weren’t quite as clueless about your own feelings. You’d known you had a big old crush on him for a while now, you’d just refused to acknowledge it

You were still in shock that you’d somehow befriended the sweetest, most talented guy (and he happened to be drop dead gorgeous) so forget about some silly crush

You couldn’t even comprehend the embarrassment if he ever found out and didn’t feel the same way

What neither of you realized was that you both had the same reason for not confessing: you wanted to save the friendship

Because you both fell for your best friend, how could you risk messing it up? (Or maybe you became best friends with your crush, hard to tell the order tbh)

So how on earth were you going to realize your mutual feelings?

It would take a miracle, or divine intervention. Or maybe Johnny getting the two of you hella drunk and locking you in a closet

Jkjk he wouldn’t

…..or would he 👀

Yeah he totally would

Johnny can absolutely see through jaehyun, he’s known something was up since basically the beginning

And now that he’s hung out with you a few times he can read the room—the feeling is very obviously mutual. To everyone but the two of you 🙄 so he takes matters into his own hands

You’re busy grabbing extra snacks from the pantry when you hear the door slam. When you turn around you find jaehyun staring at you wide eyed

And then he starts banging on the door and yelling at Johnny, so you can put two and two together

“I’m not letting you two out until the repressed feelings stop being so repressed. Call me when you’ve made out or something”

Silence. Absolute silence in the pantry. Your heart is racing fast enough you’re kinda concerned about a heart attack

And jaehyun can’t even look at you, he’s blushing so hard his ears look like they’d burn you

So you just sit there in awkward silence until you can’t take it anymore

“I’m afraid of butterflies”

Now he’s looking at you, and the expression on his face is a little less “I want to die”

So you follow it up with another confession; you’re on a roll now

“I ate way too many of those snack cakes when you bought them, so I pretended I hated chocolate so you’d stop getting them so often”

And now he’s smiling at you, and the dimples loosen your tongue more than is probably safe

“You’re literally the most attractive person I know, inside and out”

Scratch that, definitely more than is safe

“You like me?”

And suddenly he’s staring at you and you realize what came out of your mouth and the world is spinning a little so you backtrack 😅

“Uh what no I didn’t say that I totally said ‘I’ll fight you’ not ‘I like you’. Damn jae, get your ears checked”

And the dimples are back. Frick frack you’re weak for the dimples. He’s leaning against the door and smiling at you, just a little hint of a smile. That only makes you babble more

“Stop looking at me like that, gosh I hate when you do that face I have butterflies all the freaking time, dammit” and oh no did you seriously just say that

“Uhh please stop approaching me with the dimples and the flirty face. I know that face. I don’t want it near me. Nope totally not”

Unfortunately for you, you’re a terrible liar and he knows all your tells

Now he’s got a cocky smile, something you’ve only ever seen when he’s on set or sending a selfie with the boys in the back. And your tummy is tumbling faster than an Olympic gymnast by the time he cages you in between his arms

He props both hands on either side of your shoulders, leaning in with that intimidating (and oh so gorgeous) eye contact

“I wish you’d told me sooner,” he says softly

And then he’s KISSING YOU

And you have NO IDEA what you’re doing or what’s going on and you wish your brain would turn off so you could enjoy this perfect moment while it lasts but it Won’t

So when jaehyun finally pulls away, looking like sex on a stick with those lips and his eyes all dark and smoldering, you just make a fool of yourself

“Haha what’s happening? Is this a dare? April fools?”

But jaehyun just smiles, knowing you too well. The humor is just a deflection anyway

So he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, watching you with the softest expression

“It’s just me thinking you’re the most beautiful person, inside and out,” he tells you, completely serious as he echoes your earlier words

And those butterflies are back. Or perhaps they never left. Because you’re reminded that this is jaehyun, your best friend, the one you can always count on. The one who listens to all the stupid shit you say and takes it to heart. The one who will always come when you call, always help when you ask, always smile when you laugh

And he likes you too *wiggle* imagine that

He doesn’t kiss you again. No, instead he stays there, just a few inches away, looking into your eyes the way he couldn’t before

And he’d be happy to stay there like that forever, but you get impatient and get on your tiptoes to steal a second kiss. And then a third because the second was too quick and you needed to remember what it felt like

And jaehyun just grins against you, since that was his plan all along

The man is a master of letting you come to him

Those teasing stares? Intentional af

He figured you’d get the hint that he was flirting eventually

Apparently the flowers and chocolates weren’t enough for your dense self

So after this he only gets more obnoxious with his flirting, since apparently you never got the message lol

But when it comes to turning your friendship into something more intimate, he’s happy to take it as slow as you need

Which basically means teasing you until you jump his bones

He’s a big fan of that saying “you catch more flies with honey” and has every intention of catching you, and keeping you for good

But for right now......you need out of the pantry

Masterlist

[mcheang]

Alya decides to ask Lila for more details on Ladybug saving her, and Lila (being too vain to look at anything on the Ladyblog that isn't about her), makes up a story about having a been captured by an akuma whose rampage she didn't realize was witnessed and/or well-documented by Alya, and/or was one of her classmates or related to one to the classmates.

Timing

Alya asks how Ladybug saved Lila

Lila had watched the videos on the Ladyblog and had to choose a small, inconsequential akuma to base her story on

Lila: oh it was Mr Pigeon. I think he was angry at some tourists for shooing away his pigeons because they wanted a nice photo. So he started targeting newcomers like myself. I was just walking out of the airport when (she snaps her fingers) just like that, I was floating in a cloud of pigeons.

I was terrified I would fall to my death when the pigeons vanished with the akuma. But it wasn’t the miraculous cure that saved me, it was Ladybug! She swung by on her yo-yo and reached out a hand to grab me while I was falling and screaming like crazy.

Mr Ramier was so sorry he offered us all ice cream. Ladybug and I just clicked over ice cream cones and she said we should hang out again.

Alya: uh huh. And when was the attack?

Lila: the 2nd of April

Alix, who had been listening with the others, frowned. “That can’t be right. That was a Saturday, correct?”

Lila nodded. “Yup. I had the weekend to settle before attending school.”

Alix was still frowning. “But Mr Ramier couldn’t have attacked you then. We would have known about it.”

Alya: not exactly. Mr Pigeon is so common nowadays that even I have to rely on videos from the public instead of rushing over there myself. There’s not much point in remembering when he was akumatized at that point.

Alix: no, he can’t have been akumatized because we were with him when the Owl decided to arrange a Pigeon-friendly zone in the park.

Kim: oh yeah, we just tried to argue with Sabrina’s dad to let the man have his Pigeon corner.

Max: I remember!

Mylène: me too

Ivan: me three

Lila: it was a night attack, so that’s why you didn’t know.

Max: you don’t know how stubborn Mr Damocles is. He refused to let anyone leave until he won the argument, which lasted till 9pm. By then even Mr Ramier was so sleepy, I doubt he would have noticed tourists

Lila: he’s very sensitive to Pigeon matters

Ivan: he also was sent home by Sabrina’s dad because he and the Owl sent all of us home when he saw how tired we all were. I was there to see Mr Ramier enter his home, promising to go straight to bed

Lila: he must have seen the incident happen from his window

Max: there is no way. Mr Ramier’s home isn’t near any popular tourist attractions. And his window only looks out on the empty road.

Lila: maybe you got the dates mixed up

Alix: no. I specifically remember those first few days of April. First was April Fool’s. Second was Mr Ramier and the Owl. Third was a studying cram session since I couldn’t study the day before. Fourth was when you arrived.

Lila: then it must have been Mr Ramier’s twin brother. Why else is he akumatized so often? It’s because his twin is just as Pigeon nuts as he is.

But even that excuse was sounding ridiculous by now.

Alya: you’re a liar

Lila: no, I’m not!

Alya: prove it. The next time an akuma is defeated, I’ll wave Ladybug over and ask her if she knows you

Lila: she wouldn’t reveal our friendship. She wants to protect me.

Nino: then why did you brag about it on Alya’s blog, and didn’t even try to take it back

Lila: I...I...

Marinette: as happy as I am that you all finally opened your eyes, we don’t want another akuma. So just ignore Lila until she says she’s sorry. Oh, and Lila, i’d try to stay calm if I were you. If you do turn into an akuma, and when Ladybug defeats you, Alya will probably question her about your relationship. Do you want to be called out as a liar on the Ladyblog?

Lila did not and could only hope Alya would not remember her by the time the next one showed up

Alya deleted her interview and posted an apology, referencing to deleting posts where she did not do proper research. While Lila was not mentioned, some followers immediately connected the dots.

[timbertumbr]

PRANKED (Chase Brody X Reader X Marvin) An Early April Fools Special

First Oneshot with the egos shall be SAD DAD and The Magnificent Magician. 

Warning: Wholesome Pranks Ahead. ;)

It was April Fools and you decided to hide at the egos’ house. Unfortunately, the pranks didn't stop. Fortunately, they were orchestrated by Chase and Marvin.

"TRICK SHOT!" Chase yelled while throwing a Teddy bear over the couch. It lands in your lap and you flinch, not expecting the extra weight in the bear. 

You pick it up and examine it, finding a zipper in the back. You pull the zipper and inside the bear was wrapped chocolates. 

"Aww, that's sweet of you guys," Marvin started snickering while Chase was still celebrating over his amazing trick shot.

"Mind if I join the festivities?" 

"Oh heck yeah! We need someone to pin it on," Chase joked, you laughed.

"I'm glad you guys are doing the pranking this year,"

"Yeah, it's WAY more fun to juke people out with something wholesome with something even MORE wholesome! The reactions are the best!" Chase exclaimed.

"Yeah and Anti was banned to do any pranks after the uh, 'body' incident," Marvin pointed out, you nodded. 

"True. Welp, I'll get the silent party poppers!" You announce, turning to walk to your bag.

"THEY MAKE THOSE?" Chase exclaimed in surprise.

"Yeah, you just got to ask the right people,"

 

First victim on your list, Henrik. He's once again overworking himself, so you three decided to gently remind him he needs a break. 

You count down from 3 with your hand before you all pulled the strings on the silent party poppers, confetti raining down on the good doctor and his office.

"Vhat zhe-" He's cut off from swearing up a storm by the confetti moving on its own and turning into a mini confetti tornado. The confetti disappears, replaced by a large bouquet that landed on the doctor’s desk. The doctor stared at it before shaking his head with a small smile.

"Alright, you got me," He admitted while the two egos high-fived each other and you approached the doctor with a big ole teddy bear.

"You gotta take a break doc," Henrik raised a brow. 

"But zink of all zhe injures! April Fools is full of dangerous pranks and-" You cut him off by giving him the bear.

"Breaks are good though. Can't have ze good doctor all stressed out," He takes the bear and looks at you before sighing.

"Fine," 

"Excellent! Onward, to our next victim!" 

"Whoo!" And with that, the three of you leave the office. Henrik watches as you leave before hugging the bear, a smile appearing on the doctor’s face.

Anti stared at the bear with a neutral expression while you three watched from a distance. You had given him a teddy bear with a little knife while his back was turned and he's been staring at it ever since. Sure, he may not be allowed to prank on April fools but that doesn't mean he shouldn't get a wholesome prank either.

"Is he… okay?" You ask slightly concerned.

"Knowing him he's trying to figure out how it's a trap," Marvin muttered, Chase nodded in agreement.

"Let's just leave him be. He'll realize it one way or another," You nod and sneak away from the suspicious demon.

Throughout the day, the trio had pranked everyone. Jackie got a thank you card from someone he saved and nearly crushed Marvin while hugging him and thanking him profusely. Robbie got another stuffed animal and he was hugging it all day. Marvin got Jamesons watch to work again and the mute man was ecstatic.

Shawn got Cuphead and Mugman plushies, he hugged the crap out of all of you. Bingsepticeye got an upgrade and was SOOO happy! There are so many others to list but they ended up becoming really happy.

"Phew, that's all of em. Who knew wholesome pranks would be so tiring?" You couldn't help but agree with Chase who collapsed onto the couch. 

"Well at least everyone’s happy, at least, I think Anti's happy?" Marvin wondered, Chase suddenly sat up.

"Aw crap! I forgot to record their reactions! Maaan…" Chase muttered disappointed, Marvin frowning. The reactions would've been a good memory to keep.

"Well, you're in luck," You take out your phone and hand it to Chase. While Chase and Marvin watched the recorded reactions of their fellow egos, you ran off to grab something from your car. 

"Haha! We should have a movie night where we just show this," Chase suggests, Marvin smirks.

"That sounds great," As soon as Marvin said that, you came back with a pretty old book and handed it to Marvin. He took one glance at the cover and stood up surprised.

"Where'd you get this?" He asked bewildered.

"Illinois gave it to me, said the previous owner didn't need it anymore," You explained, Marvin grinned, put down the book, and hugged you. Chase saw an opportunity and took it, hugging both you and Marvin. 

"Thank you Y/N," 

"Yeah, you're the best!"

"Hey, you're the one who came up with the wholesome pranking idea, not me. Now, who wants to eat chocolate and watch comedy shows?" You ask, pointing to the teddy full of chocolate. They agreed and you ended up watching comedy shows all day, that's one way to spend April fools.

Want to Request? Please Read this before you do so.

[thedipster]

Coffee and Conspiracies || Sink Demo

Bill.

All Dipper could think about since the April Fools debacle was Bill: When? Why? What? Where? Who? How?

Hadn’t he been vanquished? Hadn’t they done this whole song and dance before? Hadn’t he gotten in trouble for it? Damnit! He should’ve noticed this all sooner, except he didn’t, except he’d been so preoccupied with his own feelings that he’d failed to notice that Mabel was dealing with Bill.

He wished she stayed.

He understood why she didn’t.

Mabel was brave and she was good and she was not the type of person to be possessed by a demon and then commit one’s life to figuring out why and how it had happened. She deserved to finish school somewhere peaceful and get a good job and ten boyfriends and everything she wanted.

Dipper, meanwhile, had dumped a bunch of newspaper clippings from his thesis work on his dining room table of all the past reported Swynlake alternate universes and was trying to see if any one of them indicated people possibly realizing it was a dream – had Bill just been in Swynlake all along? Had there been a part of him hiding in the wake and was the remnant in Dipper’s head just fueled by it? Did this have something to do with the inherent make-up of the town?

His head was spinning. He almost didn’t notice the knock on the door, but thankfully he did, and he answered it, eyes glimmering with theories, theories, theories, theories.

“Merida!” he exclaimed, truly happy to see the one person in town he felt he confide this theory too. “Thanks for coming – I know I was probably not super, uh, clear on the phone but uh – do you want a drink?” He realized maybe he should be a decent host before Merida caught sight of the mess that was the dining table right now.  

@heart-of-dunbroch